Uncensored, August 20 to August 26, 2005

Uncensored, August 20 to August 26, 2005

Greetings everyone.

Welcome back to another chaotic walk through a week at the Texas Death Camp. Starring your host Clinton Young, and with a guest appearance by Steven Woods, my partner in chaos (his Mohawk included!)

Well this week has been fairly interesting. Starting on the 18th of August, 2005, I was awakened by a Sergeant instructing all level three’s to pack up all personal commissary bought clothes, which include boxers, t-shirts, gym-shorts, socks, and tennis shoes. Now the death row plan which governs how we are treated states that level 3’s can have these items unless put on property restriction for a disciplinary case. Well Warden Hirsch, whom is the death row warden, decided he is not bound by the rules and guidelines of T.D.C.J.

Well, Steven and I decided that if the Warden breaks the rules , then there are NO RULES. So we are not bound by the rules of T.D.C.J. either. If those of the law are above the law, then there is NO LAW. Ya dig?

Warden Hirsch just took it on himself to take everyone’s clothes. The only clothing item we can buy on level 3 is gym-shorts during the summer time, so we can wear them to recreation. We are allowed to have them by federal guidelines which governs state prisons, the same guidelines that allow us certain hygiene products and correspondence supplies. It is our (death row prisoner’s) rights.

Well Steven and I inform the rank that we will not be giving up our property because we are allowed to have it. If they want it, they will have to come and take it.

So we began to prepare for the use of force (pepper spray or tear gas, whichever they decide to use and 5 man cell extraction team.) We put on our homemade gasmasks and all that good stuff. We waited for 6 hours, til shift change, which is at 6:00 pm, for the team to show up. They never showed up! Which was aggravating because I sleep during the day. Instead of being asleep, I was pacing my floor waiting to get pepper sprayed and fight 5 guards in riot gear just to defend against the theft of my clothes! They are trying to take them without my permission and according to their guidelines I am allowed to have them. I look at it as if they are stealing my clothes. They never show up, so I go to sleep.

The next day on the 18th, I go to recreation in my sections dayroom. I got my shoes and gym shorts on. Smile. I walk around proud that “I” am the only level 3 with commissary shoes! I could have kept my stuff longer, but I said to hell with it and jacked the dayroom and made them come take my clothes! (o-yeah jack the dayroom means to refuse to leave the dayroom.) Needless to say , I surprised the rank!

Well while I was in the dayroom, pest control came around to spray peoples cells for bugs. We can choose to let them do it or not. They got to Stevens cell and he said he wanted them to spray his cell. The guards cuffed him and opened his door, he stepped out and then sat down on the floor and refused to walk back in his cell. The had to carry him back in his cell. Smile. He will write his own account of that incident.

After they finished up with Steven, they went to get a team to get me out of the dayroom. The team showed up and the sergeant was armed with a .37mm grenade launcher. I was ordered to strip out of my clothes and exit the dayroom. This happened several mores times, as I was refusing to do as ordered.

Next the sergeant locked and loaded the CS gas grenade, aimed and fired. BOOM! CS gas was everywhere. The second time they went to shoot a grenade, the damn thing didn’t work. Smile! They quickly got another one ready and it worked! Frown!

After the second grenade, they popped open the dayroom gate and in the team came. I made contact with the shield and the first man on the team. BOOM, BANG, BAM!!! We all wrestled for a short time and they got me down.

After I was cuffed, they stole my shoes off my feet. They cut my clothes off, damn perverts! Instead of walking to my cell, I made them pick me up and carry me. I told the sergeant “Since you cut my clothes off of me, you all are going to have to carry me to my cell.” So they picked my naked ass up and carried me to my cell. Smile.

The next day, Steven and I started a fire. We actually started it right in front of the fire exit door! Smile! It was a big one and was burning real hot because of the air draft that comes under the door from the hallway. The building is all steel and concrete, so it isn’t like we can burn the building down. However, we did catch the paint that is on the door on fire! The paint is on the building , so as we see it, we “officially” caught the building on fire! Smile! A first!

The door got so hot that the metal started making popping noise and was still hot 2 hours later. Needless to say, I am quite proud of that one!

Also earlier during the day, Steven again laid down on the floor and made them carry him back to his cell. They have to use a camera to record it because anytime the officer touches us outside of medical assist, it is considered a use of force. Steven will also write about that event.

Aug. 26,2005-

I am feeling much better this week than I was last week. I have behaving moments here and there. The stress just becomes too much at times.

The article I wrote last week was written when I was in a bad mood. I got all kinds of stuff that shows I was wrongfully convicted and sentenced to death, yet I can’t seem to get the help needed.  It does get frustrating!

We all sit in these cells all day. That is a lot of time focusing on our self. At times I only think about how events affect me, and I also tend to gauge people on a level with myself. Not many can live up to that, because not everyone sees the world as I do.

In here, Richard did, Steven does, and a few select others do. It actually gets to the point that I want to cuss people out around here. I just feel like yelling, “You stupid coward, why don’t you stand up for yourself?” to some of the guys in here. The machine is already taking our lives, why let them have more.

I know that society has its warriors, educators, and so forth. If everyone was a warrior, then society would fall amongst the weight of chaos. Steven and I were the only ones who stood up and protected our clothes from being taken. I am not mad at the others because that makes Steven and I stand out. I like to be unique, and so does my comrade Steven! That is why he has his hair cut in a Mo-hawk. The only one on death row. Smile!

I use my warrior spirit in positive ways. Well I actually consider all my actions positive. Even if others see them as negative. My truth is not always going to be the next man’s truth. Although I do understand what is socially accepted as positive and negative. I focus my warrior spirit in socially acceptable positive ways as well, such as the fight against the death penalty. Not many have the drive that I do and that is what is upsetting.

On another note. I got a letter from my Mother. It seems that we might be on a productive path in developing a positive relationship again. I was thinking that maybe I am too hard on her. She has been through some hell, with plenty from me!! Like the song goes “I turned out to be the only hell my Momma ever raised.” To those who don’t know, that is from an old country song. Smile.

My Mom tried to do all she could do for me, I gained and learned a lot from her. Being raised by a strong minded independent woman has its benefits, especially when it comes to all the lovely ladies. Smile.

On the topic of lovely ladies, a lot of people that write always ask what I miss most. I would have to say the feeling of holding a lovely lady in my arms, more so one that I have feelings for. I never felt comfortable around other guys because of all that has happened between my step Father and Father. True enough my step Father is a much better person than my biological Father, however we did have our moments. Anyways, I never felt close or comfortable around other guys.

But my Mother was always my safe haven, so I have always felt comfortable and at ease with women. I was extremely close with my ex-fiancée. She was he one I was with when I got arrested on this case. Her uncle was also the first victim in the case that got me on death row. (She knows I didn’t do it, and that is all that matters to me!)

Well I have to take something back. There were two guys in the free world that I had a tight bond with, one was my Grandfather and the other was an associate of mine whom I spent a lot of time with and even shared a house with. When someone would ask one of us about the other, it was always “where is your brother?”

Well he got caught up in a mess and got charged with murder. He didn’t do it, a guy he was with did it. He was with two brothers when the crime happened. Well he testified against one of them for the prosecution. Seeing that the same thing happened to me, I don’t have much love for a snitch. So now this dude means nothing to me. In my eyes he is complete trash! Some people want to be big and tough when they are getting away with stuff, but as soon as they get caught, they roll over.

One of the co-defendants in my case cried when he got caught. When I saw him crying on his video statement I said, “why is he crying now? He wasn’t crying when he was shooting people in the head. He was a Billy the Kid badass then” He wasn’t confessing on tape, so he was not crying out of remorse! He was crying out of fear of what was going to happen to him. Nothing bad did happen to him really, he testified for the prosecution and only got a 15 yr sentence for robbery even after admitting on the stand in my trial, that he shot the first victim. Well he did say I held him hostage.

You know the biggest flaw to the story that I held him hostage? It was the fact that he had a loaded pistol! He helped the Prosecution, I didn’t. He goes home in somewhere between 2-5 yrs. Maybe 10 at the most! I wait to die!!

The cops told me when I first got arrested that I was going to get the death penalty. Well the chiefs exact words were, “You will get strapped to a gurney with a needle in your arm and you will die, unless you help us.” I just gave a nervous smile and said, “I want a lawyer.” I thought at the time he was just trying to scare me. Well someone give the man a trophy because he is a prophet! I never thought I would actually get convicted. I guess I was too naïve.

Anyway, back to the home front. My baby sister just turned 15 on the 7th of August. Damn how the years fly by. I still remember when she was in diapers and would stand up on her toes and start dancing to Billy Ray Cyrus “Achey breaky heart” Smile! Ha! Ha! She would stand on her toes when she would dance, that was back in 1991 or early 1992. Sadly though a third of her life, I have been locked up.


Well on to other events. For the record, for those that do not know, c/s means change/subject, and CS gas is a type of chemical agent used to gain control and disperse riots.

Well guess what? I am sure most can remember one of the past articles I wrote about the government of Texas trying to make ex-District attorneys, also know as prosecutors, automatically qualify as death penalty lawyers! Well my lawyer dropped his case. I will be damn, I should have kept my mouth closed. The judge appointed a lawyer from near Midland, Texas, which is where I got tried and convicted and sentenced to death. This lawyer was a prosecutor for 8 yrs. He of course knows all the puppets in my case, prosecutors included. I didn’t even know he was my lawyer. He has not written to me. The judge did not let me know or anything. I found out by writing my direct appeal lawyer, asking him the status of my first appeal. It has not been ruled on yet. Well he wrote me back and told me about my new prosecutor that will act as my lawyer! Then a couple days later I get a letter from my old state habeas corpus attorney. The one who dropped my case. He informed me that he was not aware of who my new attorney was! So basically the only people who know who my new lawyer is, is the judge, prosecutors, and my direct appeal lawyer. The court didn’t bother to inform anyone else! These assholes are trying all they can to kill me.

Well now I have to write the court of criminal appeals to let them know that I haven’t been informed of my new lawyer and I was told of who it was, but not properly informed by the courts. That way I can object and protest this new pawn for the prosecution. So if I ever get a good lawyer to represent me in the next phase of my appeal, he will have plenty to raise hell about.

I am going to bring this to a close, so I can get started on my other letters. I got to work even harder now.

Effort is the path to progress.

Unity is the key to success.

Use the pain to fuel the fire.

Stand tall, fade all, never fall.

Clinton Young
Polunsky Unit
3872 FM 350 S.
Livingston, TX 77351