I live in a cage like the other 524 men in East Block, San Quentin’s main death row housing unit. Built in 1927, East Block is a massive concrete and steel structure that looks like a large castle from the outside and a massive human warehouse from the inside. The cell I live in is four feet wide, nine feet deep, and seven and a half feet high. I’ve lived in this steel and concrete cage for nearly thirty-two years.
I am here for an event that happened at a time when my impulses were less restrained and my maturity still in development. My life should have been much different. This is how it actually turned out.
In an attempt to tell my story with honesty and integrity, including the dangers I face each day, I expose some of my deepest fears, pain, and desires. I share these candidly by detailing events and personal thoughts over the course of my life up to the present time. Some of these experiences are violent and criminal in nature. I use descriptive words such as warrior, gladiator, and rage, as well as racially charged slang. I don’t include these words to glorify or sensationalize my actions. I feel great remorse for the pain I’ve caused. Rather, I include these words because they’re a real part of my life and necessary to an understanding of how I developed into the man I am today.
I’ve faced conflict much of my life, and in prison survival depends on the decisions you make and whether you can defend your position each time. As you read, I invite you to ask yourself, what would I have done?
The most important question, though, is this: Who holds the key that sets us free? If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll understand, or at least take with you a sense of what some of us have gone through to find the answer.