Transcript
08/22/16:Mon Today is the down day for my building. That means we eat all (3) meals in the pod, our laundry is taken out and cleaned, commissary and property purchases are brought to the pod, and any maintenance needed is taken care of. At about 8 AM I'm called to work on my job as trash recycler. I'm paid 45 cents an hour and I get (30) hours a week. I was sorting the trash and lost in thought. The table where I work is on the prison boulevard in a hidden corner. The investigators office is at my back. A window above my head opens and the investigators tell me I'm to return to the pod immediately. It scares me a little bit since this is the 1st time this has happened and I don't know what it could be. I'm in the work pod and have done worked it out with the commissary women and my cellee to get my commissary order. It's not much even though its the payday for work order. Most of my money is taken off for court fees, and forced DOC withdrawal of savings, until it gets to $1000.00, which I'm supposed to get in addition to the $25.00 thats been withheld years before, if and when I'm ever released. Lots of us have little hope of every seeing that, since theres no parole in VA. even for the ones who still go up for hearings, like me. I made $56.00 on my payday and all I got was $30.83. Anyway, back to the story of 8-22-16. I began straightening my work area a bit and start to return to my pod. I go right around the corner and the investigators door is right there. He steps out and says,"Why when I told you to go to your pod you began putting stuff here and there and taking stuff out of your pockets and throwing it here and there?" I said, "I was just preparing to leave." He had me come into the building and told me to empty my pockets. I didn't have anything illegal. He asked me why was I so nervous and another one said he could hear it in my voice. I said, I'm not nervous, I'm getting pissed off at y'all for treating me this way for no reason. They said,"Come on, get into that cell right there, we are gonna strip search you. They did so, looked up my ass and all. I had nothing. They got on the radio and had master control close the cell door. They left and came back a bit later and showed me a picture of a grossly fat naked woman. He asked me, what's this? I said trash. He said, really. I said yeah. I had found the picture earlier in the trash. I had just layed it aside on the table. I was gonna show it to my co-workers who pick up trash, sweep, and keep dog shit off of the boulvard and rec yards. They would of looked and thrown it stright in the trash paper where it belonged. The investigator said he was gonna charge me and take my job. I didn't believe he could. When I got to the building they had called the Lt. and told him he may need to lock me up. The Lt. said, "are you ok?" I said, "they said they were gonna give me a charge and take my job for trash", which is my job! He said are you going to your cell? I said yeah. He told me he would call them and see what is going on. I wasn't allowed to return to work that day the officer came and got me in the pod. He took me to the booth and served me with a 224 poss. of contraband charge. Pictures of nakedness is now a No No in Va. Later that day I saw my Sgt. boss in the pod. I asked him what the hell is going on? He said, I don't know, you tell me. I said they gave me a charge for doing my job, and told him, that shit won't stand up, and would be thrown out. He told me, I better hope so, or he would have to take my job. Later that evening I was feeling real low so I got my bud Cowboy to let me use his phone ID # and money to call the editor of "The Voice", Earl Cole. Its a newspaper that covers Buchanan Co. Va. and Tazewell Co. Va. I've contacted him many times in the past. He printed an articule about my case in the past, and is getting ready to do so again. He also has a radio show and had a lawyer friend of mine in N.Y. named Alan J. Binger on his show talking about my case. I had just resently sent Earl a copy of the 28 U.S.C. SS 1983 informal brief that the U.S. Ct. of Apps. (4th cir) had allowed me to file. [This brief is about a suit I've brought against the prosecutor in my case, trying to get DNA testing which none has ever been done of the trial evidence. The alleged murder scene, nor the clothes the victim was stabbed (117) times in has ever been tested.] I had also sent Earl a (25) page written summary of my case. I had gotten my bud, Brian Strebe (AKA) Mouse who is the law library clerk to E-mail a letter on my J-Pay.com kiosk to Alan Binger. Alan then forwarded the letter to Earl. We're giving Earl all this info because of the new articule he's getting ready to print. Mouse is a good help to me, he worked as a para-legal on the street. He has helped me on my case for years. He's in the pod with me here. He's fired from the law library right now for fighting with an old man in the (PBU) Positive Behavior Unit, who attacked Mouse while he was talking on the phone. Mouse will get his job back though because he built the law library here at RNCC. Mouse and I have been at other prisons, Red Onion, and Wallens Ridge together. We been cellees and been locked up for being drunk, and for making mash and liqour, (AKA) clear. Anyway, Earl answered the phone and said, yeah Eugene I got your mail, and the E-mail from Alan, but I been so busy I've not had time to go over it. He said, you know I bought the radio station in Cedar Bluff Va, don't you? I said, yeah, its in your paper. He asked, me did I get a subscription to his paper? I said, I get it passed down from another. He told me, you will begin getting it yourself this week. I said, Earl, I can't afford that. He told me, its free. Earl told me he is getting it set up so Alan and I can talk on his radio show at the same time, but he wants to wait till he gets the Cedar Bluff station at full capasity, so the audience will also be in Tazewell Co. Va., the county of my wrongful conviction. I said, Earl, you need to go to J-Pay.com and register under my name and ID# so we can E-mail each other. He told me he would do so, and he did. 08/23/16:Tues. I went to work as usual this morning I heard one of the yard officers say to my Sgt. boss, should Casey be out here - I heard he got a change The Sgt. said, I've not heard anything. I know that I was allowed to work only cause the other recycler was on suspension because he had a charge for tattoo ink, naked pics, and gang related parafinalia. That chrage resulted from our cells being tossed on the 2nd of this month. Someone in this pod is jealous of the outside workers, they dropped a note to the police that we were moving all the dope between the buildings. So on the 1st after lunch all of the Boulvard, K9, and Recycling, 8 of us, were called to whats called Old Seg. We were all given a piss test. We all passed it, so the next day, after lunch, before we could be back in the pod we were the whole pod all taken to the gym and strip-searched, and piss tested. The cells were tore all to hell. When we got back it looked like a tornado had hit. The whole pod passed the piss test. But, anyway, back to the 23rd. After work I had an E-mail from Earl saying he had gotten on my mail list, and added me to the papers mailing list. Wed. 08/24/16 Today it was all the ordinary things of a day, chow, work, outside rec for an hour and sit around the pod, or in the cell being bored. I E-mailed Earl and told him thanks and that I was gonna E-mail Alan Binger and tell him all that we had talked of. I did so and got an almost immediate response from Alan saying thanks. Alan Binger has been a god send to me for a long time. Even though he's a lawyer he has never helped me in filings toward the case. He believes in me though and has read much of the case. He has given me money and made copies for me many times. He's ran upon hard times for the last few years though and doesn't give me $ anymore. He dropped everything once and came to Va. from N.Y. to interview a witness who knows I'm innocent cause he was present at the murder and seen who committed it. Fri. 08/26/16 This morning right after b'fast I was told I need to pack my property and move from cell 306 to cell 318. 306 is a handicap, wheelchair friendly cell. I'd only been in 306 for a couple months with Donnie. I've known him for several years, even at other prisons. I moved in with Charlie. He is a funny looking little dude who ain't wrapped very tight. I then went to work and thats about it for the day. Oh yeah, I received my 1st "The Voice" in the mail. I don't know how long I'm gonna get it. I didn't ask cause you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. 08/29/16 Mon. At 5:30 AM each morning the lights come up, they're turned down at around 10:00 PM each night, never out. The intercom announces that its (15) minutes till count time. We've got to be standing, if not we will be charged. Some of the kitchen workers are housed in this pod. I have it set up so that each monday (our down day) instead of the normal breakfast tray, he sends me a tray of guda cheese and about (50) pink sweetner packets. It costs me $2.00. I've gotta cut corners and save $ any way I can. Food from the commissary is very expensive and most of the chow hall meals are nearly un-eatable. We don't get any meat worth a shit. Its all processed turkey, feet, assholes, and wattles. We get potatoes a lot, but they are unpeeled, and badly prepared, usually over or under cooked, and left in water so long they're slightly fermented, or gray to black in color. The vegetable is always carrots and cabbage, zucinni or squash, all badly prepared. I've not seen peas, corn, greenbeans, tomatoes in years. The turkey stock, or chicken stock we eat comes in blocks that looks like hamburger, when prepared its called meatloaf, salsbury steak, dinner patty, turkey patty, chicken patty. Just a reading of the menu is very misleading. Anyway after b'fast and pill call, I get Nyrottens for nerve damage done to my wrists from being left in handcuffs, blackbox, waistchain, shackles, and shock belt for (5) days. It about tore my hands off and left big scars. Anyway I'm called to work after pill call, its a little after 8AM. I get outside its kinda foggy. I put the trash into the cart from in front of the (4) housing units. Its quite a lot of it. I've been working about a hour and a half and I hear the yard officer hollering my name. I figure I'm being called to the building to have my disciplinary hearing on the charge. I had been talking to the inmate disciplinary hearings advisor all week and everyone agreed the charge was BS. It never put the naked picture in my possession. in the trash on the trash table. The advisor throught he could get it thrown out without me even appearing at the hearing. The yard officer told me the yard was being closed down due to fog. I looked around and barely saw any. I said it was (10) times worse when I came out. He said, Casey do as you're told, he escorted me back to my building, there was no one on the rec. yards or anywhere. He said you may have to finish up after the 12:30 count. I said OK. When I got into my pod the commissary woman had just arrived. I asked could I get mine in case I was called back out. They gave it to me. I spent my last $5.25 on a chilli bean, a refried bean, (12) mayonaise packets, and a pickle. At a little after 1PM the intercom in my cell said I was to return to work. The yard officer had told the Cuban K9 worker to help me. He and I worked for about 1 1/2 hours and the recycling worker who had been on suspension for about a month returned to work. He had beat his contraband charge. He had done so because the contraband the c.o.'s had taken out of the cells on the 2nd had all just been piled on a cart, and no one was sure what came from where. The returned worker and I worked for awhile, he said, you had your hearing yet? I said, I'm expecting them to call me at anytime. He said, you may ought to go check on it. I said surely they will call me, they know they called me out to work. A few minutes later our boss Sgt. was standing at the gate to the enterance of our building and calling my name. When I got to him he said I will be over to get your shirts tomorrow. I said, I've not had my hearing yet. I came into the pod and the hearings officer was standing there. I asked him had he called me? He said, No. I asked all the officers had they called me back to the building? They all told me no. I went back onto the yard, aiming to finish my job. The yard officer hollered and said, Casey, why are you back out here? I said, no one in the building had called me. He came across the yard and met me at the gate. He said, Casey, your hearing was held in your absence and you were convicted, now your job has been taken, and you're not to come out here anymore. I said, but y'all called me to work twice. He said, but, Casey, if you had only said your hearing was scheduled for today you could have returned to the building. Its a rule that you are not to leave your pod on your hearing date. I said, I didn't know either of those things. He said, I'm sorry Casey, I'm just doing what I'm told. I returned to the pod the hearings officer and Lt. was in the pod. I asked them why, you knew I was right over there working, and had been called out to work. The Lt. said you're not to leave the pod when you have a hearing, its even posted on the info channel on the T.V. He said, you can appeal it. I was devastated. I turned and walked away. I've felt cheated ever since. That was (3) years of charge free sucking it up, trying to do my very best in any situation, and programing. I did nothing deserving of a charge, much less be convicted and lose my job. That one stroke will cause me to be hungry on most nights, for at least a year, before the rules allow me to have another job, it will kill my security level III score allowing me a transfer closer to home, where I may of been able to convince my children who are now grown and never knew me and who have told me they don't love me, to come see me. I now see why again, anew, fresh, why I spent (16) years at Red Onion + Wallens Ridge getting shot at, getting attacked by dogs, being locked in a cell much of the time 24/7, making mash and liqour, and just not giving a fuck, makes sense. Its easy. NOTE: My name is Freddie (Eugene) Casey Independence, Va You can also reach me at J-Pay.com by E-mail. I pray this week in my life is posted in its entirity, just as its written. I've told the whole truth and tried to do as well as I could to let you know as much as possible about anything I spoke of. I've got 100's of pages of a handwritten journal that covers years of 1st hand prison life. I've got 100's of pages of handwritten notes and letters to lawyers. I've got 100's of pages of conversations verbatum between a lawyer and myself who was representing me on a habeas corpus hearing on my wrongful murder conviction. I got 100's of pages of all the documents allowed me in a case. I got notes of how the murder victims family sought help from every authority known to civilization in an attempt to free me and put the real murderer behind bars. I barely knew the murder victim upon sight, and I never knew his family on the street. Sincerely, Eugene Casey
