A few days ago I completed an electrical job on a new chapel at Forcht Wade Correctional Center in North Louisiana. There were nineteen lifers sent up there to do the work, all skilled craftsmen of their various trades. I remained on the job eight days longer than everyone else in order to install the sanctuary light fixtures when they finally arrived. These were over eleven thousand dollars worth of fixtures and I felt repsponsible for their installiation, so thus I volunteered to stay to complete the project.

But there was another reason why I choose to stay there just a little longer. Nearly everyone incarcerated at FWCC were short timers, many with only days left to serve. I especially enjoyed being around these younger folks, many of them just out of their teens. I sort of became a patriarchal figure to these youngsters, often engaging in long conversations about life on the outside and inside of prison. I paid particular attention to warn these guys of their projected futures if they return to a life of crime or drugs. Many of these young men were highly skilled craftsmen themselves, which showed me they were quite capable of earning an honest living in the free world without having to deal in drugs or other illegal activity. I especially emphasized to them the necessity to stay way from so-called friends who were destined to approach them upon their release and tempt them into doing again the very same thing that landed them in prison. I believe I reached them by saying, “when this happens, ask the guy where was he when you were in prison? Did he come to see you? Did he send you any money to make your life in prison a little easier? Did he talk to you on the phone or send you any letters? The answer to all these is naturally “No”.  Then I told them they should tell the guy that he wasn’t a real friend at all and to get our of your face. Because if he was a real friend he wouldn’t try to get you involved with the very same thing that sent you to prison.

I told those guys that if they did fall for the temptation and become reacquainted with drugs or crime, the so-called friend who talked them into it would be the very first one to sell them out if they both were caught. His logic would be that you have already done time and it would be easier on you than him, so you can take the fall. That’s the way those people think, and that’s exactly what would happen. So choose your friends wisely and stay the hell out of prison.

One other item of interest that I shared with those young men and that I would like to share with the readers of this blog is I asked those short timers to e-mail a friend of mine who is trying to help the many lifers he left behind when he was released from Angola himself. He started a non-profit organization called V.O.T.E. (The Voice of The Ex-offender) in Louisiana. His purpose is to create a huge voting block where he can almost dictate law changes to the lawmakers and politicians. If he can make the organization big enough, he can almost name his own governor in the next election. I encouraged those youngsters to join this group and become registered voters, which they didn’t know they could do under the first amendment of the La. Constitution upon their release. You are not disenfranchised as most people think once you come out of prison.

There are an astronomical number of ex-cons in Louisiana. A recent statistic I read in a Cry Justice Newsletter stated that one of every 35 people in the U.S. is either in jail or prison or under parole or probationary supervision. That figure is scary. The commentary in the article containing that stat said, “Either the justice system in this country is the most corrupt in the world, or we have the most evil people in the world.” I believe most people would tend to accept the former rather than the latter as true.

I want all you ex-offenders who read this to understand the potential power of the vote if  you would join the V.O.T.E. organization to help us. My friend’s name is Noris Henderson, and his goal is to have at least a hundred thousand ex-offenders as members. I would like to see at least a half million. that would be enough to encompass the vast majority of voters in every district of the state for senators and representatives. With that much persuasive power over the elected officials, threatening them with being voted out of office if they don’t comply, the organization could cause to be changed laws like the legalization of marijuana, reduce the punishment for simple drug possession, put a stop to police entrapment with undercover cops selling drugs or buying drugs, change laws like those which don’t conform with the rest of the nation concerning lifers, change the make-up of the pardon and parole boards to seat only qualified people who are not biased against offenders, create a system of rehabilitation that really works for offenders so they can be better prepared to reenter society. There is no limit to the good laws that this organization could force the lawmakers to pass. The only way to fight politicians is with politics. By threatening the politicians with losing ther jobs, anything is possible and this the only language they understand. Special interest groups could forget it. They woud no longer have control of our government. There would be more ex-offenders listed as registered voters than them. All you guys would have the political pwoer to change what we all know is a corrupted, evil and unfair system of justice in Louisiana.

My friend, Noris Henderson, can be reached by e-mail at saboor108467@msn.com. Please tell him that I referred you to the organization.

Best of luck to everyone who has ever seen the inside of a prison and knows what I am saying is true. You guys have the solution and the cure within your grasp. Please act on it now.

For anyone who wishes to contact, my address is changed to:

Denny Brown, #124044
Camp C, Wolf 2
La. State Prison
Angola, La. 70712

Nothing But The Blood

You sit, alone, in your cell. Three bare walls and the bars to look through, your only opening to the outside. You get out of your bunk and take a walk. Four steps from the back wall then four steps to the back wall again… again and again.

You stop, look down into the sink. You notice a jumping spider. He notices you too. You stare. He stares. You win the starring contest. He runs towards a crack. Just for fun, you reach and try to catch him. He’s too fast. You feel a sudden emptiness. Your only company has run and hidden away. Even a spider hates the sight of you.

You turn and look out of your cell. The lights are out. Everyone else is asleep. The quiet is a welcome thing because the sounds of negative conversations get too much to bear.

You remember an old song by Simon and Garfunkel. “The Sounds of Silence.” This is when you realize the sounds of silence are the thoughts within your mind. those haunting thoughts of days gone by. Where did you go wrong? Why did you do this? Why didn’t you do that? Your thoughts overwhelm you. It’s just too much to feel this way. An emptiness in your chest, as though your heart has gone away. But you know it hasn’t because you can feel the pulsing of your blood that pumps to your brain, feeding the thoughts, your aching heart keeping it alive.

You hear the inner voice. It can’t be your own. You’ve never seen these images before. The images that play upon the screen of your closed eyelids. How horrible they are. What is this that torments you so horribly? This voice. It’s not your own. This hideous laughter of someone or something that sends chills down your spine.

Fro some reason you call on the Lord. “Jesus Christ!” you say out loud. “How much is enough?” you whisper to the wall. A tear runs down your cheek.

You grit your teeth and clench your fists. Then you see a book covered with dust. You stare at it for a full minute. Some throwed-off inmate minister gave it to you a couple of weeks ago. It still sits where you threw it after you gave the clown your indigent package request. They only sent you one bar of soap. How the hell is one bar going to last 30 days? You laugh out loud. Then you pick up the book. It says “bible” on the cover. You blow off the dust and open it up. you begin to read it.

Then you smile. A peaceful feeling flows through your veins that have been feeding your brain with that old blood. Now this is the blood of Jesus’ word. Fed by the blood. Now your thoughts change a little. Those thoughts being fed by the blood of Jesus.

You lie down in your bunk and you read and read. You close the book. You hold it against your chest, where your heart is located. You close your eyes. You go to sleep with a smile.

Nothing but the blood of Jesus…

After having served 33 1/2 years in prison for a crime that everyone who looks at my case feels it should have been a manslaughter, you would think that someone, somewhere, would understand the overall situation and give someone a break. But who cares when it comes to a prisoner? After all, we are the ones who broke the law. We are the ones who went that step further and did wrong to be thrown away and forgotten about. There are so many other problem situations that people would understandably feel more inclined to care about than unfair treatment, sentences, or anything concerning a convict.

What about the homeless? What about the poor? Disease, war, education, elderly, etc… I just saw on the news, where 8 homeless people burned to death because they were trying to build a fire, in an abandoned building, in New Orleans, to stay warm. Another group of people who society turns their backs on because they maybe bring shame on the face of American society. For whatever reason those people were homeless, their problem should have been addressed by the people of a society in the richest and most powerful country in the world. It should not have happened.

If anybody reads our blog and feels the problem of overcrowding in prison should be addressed in some way, please feel free to add your opinion and feedback onto our blog of Redemption for All.

All of our nation’s problems are important and should not be ignored, including our prisoners’ problems.

Chuck Unger
87945 F
LSP

Let Us Help

Prison is no fun place to be. It can also be a very lonely place after many years of oppression and degradation by those who are our captors and keepers. We’re all dumped into one category and looked at as the same lowly scum of the earth, regardless of our change that put us here to begin with.

Every one of us would love a second chance. A chance to go back out there and maybe do something to make a difference. One realizes how disastrous that one bad choice turned out in their lives here and to be able to rectify those wrongs would really make a big difference not only in our lives but possibly in the lives of those out there who could use help and good advice from those who made bad choices and ended up here.

Personally, if I could be of help to someone out there, with a problem, who sees themselves going in a bad direction but can’t seem to find a fork in the road to lead them to a better direction, I would love to be of help and so would a lot of men here as well.

Here is what I had in mind. There are a lot of people who want someone to talk to but are afraid to because of what others will think that are close to them. Us convicts are here, in prison, away from society and we will never ever see you since we are practically in another planet. We could be that someone for you to talk to where you can seek advice for those sensitive issues that you have nowhere else to turn to.

Just send your thoughts and words to Kevin Dillon on Redemption for All and specify who you want to talk to or anyone at all and he will send it to us anonymously and we will send what we think back and check back a week or so later to the blog and Kevin will have our feedback there for you.

I just want you, out there, to know and realize that not all people in here are forever bad people and even us forgotten cast away people could maybe help and make a POSITIVE difference in your life.

Take care and offer us a prayer because all God’s people need it.

Chuck Unger

Rodeo Reality

Twice a year we have a rodeo here in Angola. The third weekend of April and every Sunday of October. This is set 6 months apart. Seemingly enough to carry us through from one half of the year to the next.

I say carry us through because for some of us, that is exactly what it is all about as far as making money that we need to live a little more comfortably here.

Our basic needs are met already: food, clothing, medical, etc. But if one has habits and simple desires those needs must be met monetarily by either assistance from friends or family or, as I am about to explain, hobbycraft that is sold at our bi-yearly rodeo.

We are allowed to work in hobby shops where we can do leathercraft, woodwork, art, jewelry or any other type of crafts we can muster up to sell at the rodeo.

The rodeo originally served as an entertainment where convicts starred as participants in what a rodeo is all about. Riding unwilling farm animals in a contest of who does it best.

But as a side attraction the authorities way back then allowed us to sell our hobbycrafts to the people who came to see the rodeo. This part of the rodeo has grown to gigantic proportions.

Each item we sell we are charged 20% by the authorities. Where all of that money goes we really have no definite way to know. We can only assume that money is used elsewhere that is in no way affiliated with us, the convict, hobbycraft, salesmen, or even the general prison offender population.

Due to overcrowding here, we have all been double-bunked. Since there are no funds to build new housing facilities they have stacked our beds atop each other to make room for more. Despite our not having enough bathroom showers and toilets to accommodate it all and space to live reasonably comfortable, we are stacked atop each other and packed like sardines in a can. Where does all of that generated 20% money from hobbycraft go?

People are being poured into the system and are barely being trickled out. Like a water balloon attached to a running faucet, one day or some way, it has to burst. Then the citizens of Louisiana will get soaked then drained of more money in taxes to pay for it all.

Who cares if a bunch of murderers, rapists, thieves, drug addicts, and robbers get severely exploited? But in the long run the citizens of the free world do too.

The only answer is to relieve the pressure and start letting people out of here. A rodeo that makes Lord knows who richer as the prison overcrowding gets worse and worse is unacceptable. This exploitation goes on right under the noses of the taxpaying citizen of Louisiana.

You can’t sweep such a severe problem under the rug. There are only roaches creeping under that rug waiting to get fatter as they feed upon this growing problem. The only real answer is to start letting people out of here.

Chuck Unger

The Lifer Story of Denny Brown

Born in New Orleans in 1945, I was named Denis Brown. At the age of ten many significant events changed my life. My mother married my step-father, who adopted my older brother and me, changing our last name to Newton, a name that was to cause a substantial amount of turmoil in my lifetime. In fact my name became a subject of ridicule throughout my childhood and well into my adult life. Having to suffer hundreds of times the agony of being called Dennis The Menace, or fig Newton, in 1984 I finally had enough and legally changed my name to Denny Brown. You would have thought that would be the end of my misery, but it was just the beginning.

In 1988 my life was in turmoil. Having become an electrician by trade in 1965, it was really not that difficult to find a job, but locating one with any permanency was the problem. The one I was working at the time of my arrest was 160 miles round trip from my home, ten hours a day, five and six days per week.

My common law wife had split on me again for about the umpteenth time, leaving our two-year-old son with my mother, who was fighting me for permanent custody. My bills were paid up-to-date, but money for the lawyer would have to be accumulated. My job was a demanding one, and with the amount of work time and traveling time involved, every day I found myself totally exhausted and miserable because I was alone.

I had always been a drinker, but I felt I was a responsible one, working hard for my money, paying my bills on time, taking care of my obligations. But even though I was a responsible person, acute depression, coupled with excessive drinking, and physical and mental exhaustion makes for a very volatile concoction. Based on many years of research, the experts refer to my situation at that time as social shock.

A person suffering from social shock can and often becomes dangerous. I had never been a dangerous person before, although I had my normal share of being angry at others for wrongs done to me. The victim in my case was one such person.

To fully understand my mental state in 1988 you have to see the overall picture of my life. I was well-educated, intelligent, a hard-working expert at my craft, but my life had become meaningless. Everyone must have meaning and purpose in his life, or it’s not worth living. I had tried to commit suicide four months before my crime by consuming a quantity of sleeping pills. When that attempt failed, I felt even more miserable. About one year before my crime a man came up to my wife and tried to hug and kiss her. She was attempting to push him away when I grabbed him and pulled him off. I slammed him against a brick wall and told him in no uncertain terms that if he ever put his hands on my wife again I would kill him. One year later, alone and completely miserable with myself and the way my life was heading, I was in a bar drunk when this same guy came in. He had been told to stay out of the bar because he bothered the customers, often clearing out half the clientele within minutes of his arrival. The guy was nothing but white trash, unclean, ugly, ignorant and had never worked a day in his life, still living with his mother on welfare at the age of 32. When this bum stood next to me at the bar all I could see was red, but I restrained myself. He left shortly after that. I don’t remember much after that. According to the court records I was found guilty of shooting the man while he was walking down the side of the highway. Call it bad luck for him, worse luck for me. I was arrested, convicted for the crime and given a natural life sentence.

When I was arrested the intake booking officer thought he would be cute by changing my name on the records back to Denis Newton, even though I explained that to him that wasn’t my name any more. I managed to get the name changed back to Brown while I was in the parish prison waiting to come to Angola, but after I arrived at Angola, the administration changed it back again to the Newton name, telling me I had to go by the first name on my commitment paper, rather than the second. The placement of the names was a clerical error by the clerk of court. I had to take the administration to court in order for me to send and receive mail under my legal name of Denny Brown. So as can be seen, the old nemesis name still haunts me.

My memories also haunt me. Most people in the free world fail to realize that a man sorry for the crime he committed can never forget the most catastrophic event in his life that robbed him of his freedom. One bad decision, one wrong choice such as this becomes the worst turning point of his existence. There is no escaping that memory, ever. That in itself is even more torturous than being in prison, a mental anguish that becomes a permanent nightmare.

Being in prison drives many men crazy. In order to retain some semblance of sanity, men become absorbed in various activities. Some spend their days watching TV or listening to the radio. Some work in the hobby shops. Some play cards at every opportunity. Others, like myself, read or write every day. Unlike most of the population here I have become active in prison reform, trying everything I can to force the laws in Louisiana to change so that I can regain my freedom.

I was forty-two years old when I went to jail, fortunate that I was able to experience some sort of life on the outside which most people would consider normal. I have owned homes and property, I have had three relationships which brought my four children into the world. I have had good paying jobs and contributed to society by wiring hundreds of structures and facilities. I was a registered voter and never missed an election. But none of that counts when you have a life sentence that never goes away, a sentence of death by imprisonment.

Louisiana is the worst of four states and the District of Columbia that have life sentences without parole. My goal is to change that along with my misfortune. I strive to show the people in the free world that not everyone deserves to die in prison of old age, that at least some of us could easily return to society as better, improved, remorseful men determined to show the world we are worthy of a second chance. Some of us are still human, not animals as we are often portrayed to be in the movies. Only a few convicts are depraved, mentally sick individuals. Those of us who would do well as free men are stuck in the same rut as the incorrigibles. I am a first offender with a second degree murder charge. If my crime would have taken place in California instead of Louisiana, I would have been freed after seven years. Now I am closing in on 23 years of incarceration and have reached the age of 65. I can only guess about how much longer I will be around, but there is one fact I am sure of. I will die trying to regain my freedom so I can be with my family again.

Written by:

Denny Brown
#124044, F-4/L
La. State Prison
Angola, La. 70712

via http://www.economist.com/node/16636019?story_id=16636019.

via http://www.economist.com/node/16640389.

A person learns a great deal while in prison. He learns patience, he learns understanding, he learns tolerance. Those are a few of the positive aspects of prison life. On the back side an inmate learns indifference, which wages a constant war with compassion for dominance in his nature. But perhaps the greatest lesson to learn in prison is introspective, knowing yourself.

Those who learn this last lesson will see themselves clearly for the first time in their lives and do everything possible to correct the flaws in their characters. The ones who do not do this or won’t do it, preferring to remain unchanged, are the ones we improved men say should never be released, the incorrigibles, the mentally ill, the sociopaths. Yes, that is correct. A huge number of us inmates believe some people never should be released. If it were up to us good inmates, there would hardly be any recidivism at all because we know who the really bad guys are.

This is where the system barges in and begins to screw the process up so royally, I am surprised the general public hasn’t recognized the farce for what it is—a money game.

This is how it works:

The laws are created by a bunch of self-serving politicians, playing upon the sensibilities of the public, in order to continue reaping the profits of their employment in civil service.

The worst of the crimes they (the politicians) say is murder. “Oh my God! He’s a MURDERER. We don’t want to do anything that would help him get out of prison. Lock him up and throw away the key. Let him die in jail. He did the crime—let him do the time.”

There are dozens of phrases used today to justify their actions. But the bottom line is, who is a murderer? A soldier killing his enemies in a military conflict is a murderer, but it’s sanctioned by the government that makes the law, so it’s okay. A policeman killing someone in the line of duty is a murderer, but the states says it’s justified, except for the few times the cop kills an innocent person. Then the victim’s family is usually paid off rather than the cop receiving a life sentence as it is in Louisiana for everybody else.

The anti-abortionist claims any woman who has an abortion is a murderer, but the laws don’t cover that controversial issue, so no one goes to jail.

Animal rights activists claim scientists who experiment on and eventually kill innocent animals are murderers, but no one is punished for this.

The person who pushes the buttons to lethally inject a criminal is a murderer, but that’s okay, too, because it’s a state sanctioned killing. This is another way of saying it’s okay for us to kill someone we feel isn’t worthy of living, but it’s not okay for you citizens to do it. “If you do, we’ll throw you away for the rest of your natural life.”

The United Nations has grasped this concept well in their Declaration of Human Rights. They are opposed to all killing and condemn the death penalty everywhere. The U.S. has never ratified this yet, so we are one of three industrialized nations left in the world who still kill people by law.

Most of the nation operates their legal system under the belief that if a person does a crime, give him some time, try to rehabilitate him as much as possible while he is incarcerated, then release him. In Louisiana it’s give him a life sentence and let him die in prison. Most of the general public here are under the assumption that lifers eventually are released from prison. They do not know we are sentenced to death by incarceration.

What I fail to understand is that mine (2nd degree murder) is a lesser crime than first degree murder, but yet I am sentenced to die by incarceration. The only difference between my crime and first degree murder is the death penalty was not an option for the D.A. It seems to me that wasn’t a concern since the life sentence I was handed down is a death sentence, too.

Now, let’s get into the money aspect. When we argue to the lawmakers, “Look how much money you’d save the states if you’d just let a few deserving lifers out of prison.’ Their mentality is “I don’t care how much it costs. You have to pay for your crime.” The truth of the matter is, the lawmakers aren’t paying for anything. The taxpayers are. It is you and their constituents who do the paying. And the longer a person staying in prison and the older he gets, the more it costs.

We can’t even get the lawmakers to agree to allow us a release even if we pay them for the privilege of participation. Why is this? They know the state would make money and save money by releasing some of the 4,500 lifers who would go back to the free world and do well. The only answer it could possibly be is they are making even more money by keeping us in prison.

The money game begins when a person is arrested as a suspect for a crime. In Louisiana most of the people accused of a crime are indigent, or not wealthy enough to afford a high-priced lawyer. In most cases a court-appointed lawyer is assigned to represent you. Mine was paid a whopping $175.00 to defend me at my trial, while the D.A.’s office had two top notch assistant D.A.s teamed against me with unlimited resources. It was not exactly an equally playing flied. My case was lost before the judge banged his gavel and began the trial.

All through the trial process, the states and its agents are making money. After a conviction and before the prisoner is sent to a state facility, the sheriff of the local jail who houses you is making money for keeping you there. In Louisiana it’s about $26.00 a day per inmate. Some sheriffs house hundreds of state prisoners until they are squeezed into the already overcrowded system. And as soon as one is transported to a state facility, he is instantly replaced by a new one recently convicted of another crime.

Once in the state facility an inmate has to forfeit his incentive pay for the first year to pay for items like his state clothes, shoes and other essentials. Then when he does start earning a little incentive pay, it’s 2¢ an hour to start and ends at 20¢ tops. The prison commissary prices are sky high which means if an inmate wants to possess a few creature comforts or supplement his diet because of the poor quality of the prison food, it means he must receive money from his family and friends to survive. All of this money goes to the agencies of the state. The longer someone stays in prison, the more money he spends to feed the coffers of the people associated with the state or its agencies.

If the inmate becomes involved with hobbycraft in an attempt to finance himself and save his family from that burden, the administration has devised a way to tap into his profits from his hobbycraft sales. The prison administration has it now set up as a monopoly to sell inmates shoes, clothes and other goods, eliminating all outside competition. They say it was done for security reasons. If that is the case, why is it inmate phone service for making outside calls is given to the highest bidder for the contact, instead of the lowest. The reason is the state is receiving a commission, which is just another way of saying a kickback.

The entire system is based on profiting from the number of prisoners being held in a facility. The more they can cram into it, the longer they can keep the inmate in it, the more money there is to be made.

Death doesn’t even spare the inmate. If an inmate dies here, which happens quite often, the money left in his accounts (drawing and savings) goes to the state. If family members complain about this, they are told the money went to help defray the cost of burying the inmate in a pine box on state ground.

The inmate clubs are also a target of the money grabbers. They are being charged taxes, they are told, every month, based on their sales of goods to other inmates. I have often wondered how an agency of the state can charge taxes which they do not have to pay to the state. How can the state charge itself a tax? I strongly suspect the money being collected is being pocketed by certain people in authority employed with in the prison system. In other words, it’s all a money making racket.

Somewhere back in time the entire concept of punishment for a crime was lost and replaced by the ideology of making as much money as we can off the prisoners. It’s not about being punished, becoming remorseful, improvement of character, and being released back into society as a better and more productive citizen any more. Now it’s only about becoming rich for the chosen few.

You might argue that people are being released all the time in Louisiana. True. But look who they are releasing, the ones MOST likely to recidivate and come right back into the system. This generates even more funds into the money game. And the authorities use this up saying this is why we don’t want to let murderers out; they’ll just go out there and kill again. This is so far from the truth, it’s ludicrous. The national statistics prove that released murderers are the very least likely to commit any other crime, much less another murder.

So what is it going to take to correct the corrections system. Pressure on the lawmakers of this state and education so they know exactly what is really going on. I understand this entire fiasco and the resolution very well, because at one time I, too, was one of the citizens out there now who don’t care about prisoners. I, too, thought they should all rot in jail. I, too, would have never thought I would screw up like I did and do a murder while under the influence of alcohol. I made a serious mistake. I had serious problems that I failed to rectify and allowed alcohol to cloud my reasoning. I am a qualified electrician by trade with 24 years of practical experience before I came to prison. And what do I do in the prison for the man? Electrical work, of course. They are profiting now from my practically free labor (20¢ an hour) while I grow older and weaker every year. Eventually, and not really that far away, I will be used up completely. The state will have totally broken me, exhausted me and my skills until I am good for nothing any more. And if they laws do not change and allow me to return to my family, my children and my friends, then I will die here as a result of excessive incarceration, needless incarceration. There are so many of us who could do so much more for society on the outside than in prison, but cannot because the laws will not allow us a release mechanism in Louisiana.

What about the pardon board, you say? That’s just another part of the money game. They are being paid lucrative salaries to convene every few months so they can deny nearly everyone who begs for clemency. Then the so very few who do receive a favorable recommendation (less than 1/10 of 1%) are denied the governor’s approval, which nullifies the entire process. This is what we are fighting here in Louisiana.

If anyone would like to help us correct this situation of injustice, please write me and I’ll tell you how it can be done. If you don’t care to write a God-Forbid-Murderer like me, please contact:

The Other Death Penalty Project
P.O. Box 1486
Lancaster, CA 93584

I would really welcome any communication by anyone in the country who would sincerely like to help us. I am not a bad man. Like many of my fellow lifers, I am a good man who made one bad mistake. God bless.

Denny Brown
#124044, F-4/L
LA State Prison
Angola, LA 70712