imprisonment: 1983-2009
Unit 'Boys ICU' at Sylmar Juvenile Hall, where I was confined alone in my cell 23 hours a day for the first 33 days of my wrongful imprisonment. (I believe my cell is actually the first door on the right in this photo.)
Me, looking on as Judge Richard Kolostian sentences me to 16 years to Life in state prison for the Second Degree Murder of my own mother. I am 20 years old, and innocent - Feb 7 1986
Weekly visits with Dad were one of the few pleasures I knew at the hell-hole known as 'Gladiator School' — the California Youth Authority's infamous Youth Training School (YTS) in Ontario, CA - 1986
A friend who worked at San Quentin's Receiving & Release ('R&R') asked if I'd care to have some shots taken for posterity, using one of the cool antique cameras he maintained there - 1989
A polaroid shot taken on C-Yard, Mule Creek state prison. Lifting weights was a productive way for me to pass the seemingly endless time, as well as to project a slightly harder facade and thus make life marginally safer for me - 1991
Visits with my dad were a sacred source for me, sustaining my strength and humanity during very dark days. Survivors together, in the same room, we always glowed. Sadly, this would be our final time together. He died a few months later - 1995
Behind my clerk's desk in C-Facility's Education Department, Mule Creek state prison. As depressing as it might look, this was very much one of the better prison jobs to be had, AND it allowed me to productively work on my case once my clerical tasks had been completed - 1995
A typical unit dayroom at the prison I spent 19 years of my life in, Mule Creek State Prison, 30 miles southeast of Sacramento, CA. Sometime after this photo was taken, the benches to the upper-right were removed and a total of 40 (later expanded to 60) inmate beds were installed. It was from one of these "e-beds" that I was released on Aug 13 2009
Once the emergency overflow beds (aka "e-beds") had arrived, overcrowding became an even more stifling and miserable prospect. One could never fully escape the groaning, reeking crush of human bodies.
My bunk, just hours after my release. Its tubular metal frame is bolted to the concrete floor of a dirty dayroom in Building 11, Facility C, Mule Creek state prison. This was the last prison housing to which I would ever be assigned. (Note the URL scrawled on my prison issued towel, FREEBRUCE.ORG, predecessor to the current website) – Aug 13 2009