My refusal to let the justice system control the narrative without my fighting back, took a turn for the worse when I refused to abide by correctional service demands to drop my appeal and postpone an upcoming parole hearing. False and demeaning accusations flew off the shelf for months, including suggestions of sexual misconduct against my own children. Despite the degradation, so vile, purposefully done with expectations that it would silence exposure of the system’s willingness to engage in this type of disgusting manufactured intimidation, my determination to defend myself produced a most revealing conversation with a prison case manager that the average citizen would never be privy to beyond ‘Poor Man’s Justice, and this post.

“Conversation with Case Manager, Carter Alexander, Ferndale Institution, November, 1992.

“David,” Carter said, “…we want you to get through this. If you drop your appeal and postpone your parole hearing…for just a couple of months, you will be able to get out of here; back with your kiids and on with your life.”

“Carter,” I replied, “I have a right to my appeal, and I have a right to my parole hearing, without the correctional service interfering with it. These people lied to me, they lied about me. What about my rights? Who stood up for me? Who gave these people the right to strip me of my citizenship? Who gave them the right to coerce and manipulate the court process?”

“I told you before…,” Carter said, his voice cracking, “No one believes what’s been written. It’s all under seal…no one will ever see it.” Carter pleaded, “What you did was wrong. It doesn’t matter about the circumstances. You are here now and have to do whatever you can to get out of here on parole—trust me, that’s the way it works.”

I saw a tear in Carter’s eye as he spoke. ( I felt for this man. He was experiencing a crisis of consience, something I saw in many others during my incarceration; good people, struggling with institutional demands to adhere to demeaning mechanizms of control)

Carter continued—“I think you’re a decent person and I don’t want to see you ruin your life fighting this system. If you try, you will lose. It had more power than you; change your attitude, go along with what you’re told, and get out of here!”

“I know what I did was wrong,” I said, “…I can’t turn back the clock, but the deception used in the courts, and with what’s been written since, it is also wrong!”

“David…you have to understand that most of the counseling for your feelings will come only after you’re out in the community. This system has to deal with the public’s feelings and emotions. You’re taking this to personally, and that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You’re smart enough to understand what’s happening. Nothing has happened just by chance. If you want to call it ‘playing the game’ then play the game! Get out in the community and back with your kids. We’ll pay for a counselor to help you on the outside.”

Carter took a breath, then continued his plea, “…Postpone the parole hearing and drop the appeal. In a couple of months, you will get out on parole and get this dealt with.”

Holding fast to my refusal to give in, days later, I listened in frustration as Carter Alexander addressed the Parole Board on November 24, 1992, ten days before my appeal. “…My major opinions are expressed in the report. Um….I believe that Mr. Mitchell, um, still requires extensive psychological treatement, and, uh…unfortunately, that has just started, and I think he needs to have extensive treatment before he stops being a risk.” —The Board denied parole!

Quiet conversations will continue inside the Appellate Court…Stay tuned!