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The
Entertainment
Seen
African Chorale
in Concert
See Page 9
Address to
the Community ir*
See Page 5
Page 5 & 6
PORTLAND OBSERNER
Black Prisoners Speak Out
Vol. XVII, No. 52
November 11, 1987
25$
U S P S 959 680 8555
Copyright E i<e Pubh&ng Co
Inc ’ 984
Part I of II
by Nyewusi Askari
EDITOR'S NOTE: On October 23, 1987, the Portland Observer News
paper received a letter from Oregon State Penitentiary inmate John
D. Leftridge II. The letter requested an interview. The interview,
it said, was needed in order to give the Black community "a detailed
scenario of illegal activities and wrong-doings at OSP.
On Nov. 6, 1987, after some lengthy discussions, the Observer
______________________
granted the interview.
"The Litte Red Rooster said to the Little Red Hen, 'I ain't seen you in
God knows when . . . " '
If you are African-American, it is easy to be reminded of this particular
conversation as you walk down the well-guarded corridors of the Oregon
State Penitentiary. It appears that you recognize the face of or know every
other Black prisoner you pass along the way.
It also brings to mind a common experssion you hear spoken in Port
land's Black community: "If a Black man disappears from sight and you
don't hear from him in a while, check our OSP. He just might be there.
The urge to become sympathic is great, especially when you find your
self surrounded by cautious guards, familiar faces, automatic locking steel
doors, shakedowns, electronic checking devices, and hundreds of aggra
vating sounds bursting into your ears at the speed of light. When reality
finally makes its appearance, you suddenly realize that you are walking
down a corridor that leads to nowhere. Linder these conditions, objectivity
commits suicide.
Oregon State Penitentiary, like most prisons throughout the country,
is a complex system of administrative departments staffed by civil servants.
Each department is assigned particular roles which are designed to make
and keep the system running smoothly. When any part of the system
breaks down, a crisis is created. A crisis can occur because of an escape,
as in the case of Diane Downs. It can occur because of racial tensions. It
can occur because of a breakdown in communications between guards and
inmates. In short, a crisis in prison can be caused by a thousand-and-one
things.
Inmates John D. Leftridge II, George Gaines, and Julian Armas believe
that the system at OSP has either broken down or that correctional officials
are simply refusing to carry out their duties. Leftridge explains: "Under
ORS 144.410 to 144.525, it is the job of corrections to have a work release
program. Specifically ORS 144.430 clearly states the duties that shall be
done, such as establish and maintain community centers. But they won't
do it. They would rather send a prisoner into the community unprepared
in order to insure his return to prison."
The Circuit Court of the State of Oregon for the County of Marion
found that, at the time Julian Armas was sentenced to prison, he was suf
fering from a severe personality disorder indicating a propensity toward
criminal acitivity. Consequently, he was sentenced under ORS 162.725 et
seq as a dangerous offender. Armas petitioned the court for Writ of
Habeas Corpus. At the proceeding, Armas contended that his continued
imprisonment and restraint was illegal; that he was incarcerated as a dan-
John D. Leftridge III (L) explains s e n e of the problems inmates at
O.S.P. are experiencing in dealing with the parole system, while
George A. Gaines and Julian R. Armos listen.
Photo by Richard J. Brown
gersous offender and had been deprived of available treatment and a rea
sonable opportunity to be cured or improved of the condition for which he
was incarcerated.
Circuit Court Judge Richard Barber agreed, and issued the following
judgment: '. . . It is ordered that defendant (Fred Mass, Superintendent.
Oregon State Penitentiary) has ninety (90) days to: (1) attempt to identify
petitioner's severe personality disorder indicating a propensity toward crimi
nal activity; (2) determine if petitioner's severe personality disorder can be
treated and (3) if the severe personality disorder can be identified and suc
cessfully treated, make an adequate treatment plan available to petitioner
(Armas)."
Armas says that he has yet to receive any kind of treatment and he's
angry about it. "I would like for the community, all of my brothers and
sisters, to realize what we have in our hands. A person, a taxpayer, out
there is always crying that they are paying too much for this and that, but
what is the price of lives? What is the price of their children's lives? What
is the price of the lives of fathers and mothers who are out there when they
let a psychopath like myself in their communities? I would like to know
what the Governor's doing in collecting all these thousands of dollars for
individuals like myself, that are considered dangerous, what treatment are
we getting? None what so ever. I'm put out on the streets and I'm put
out there raving mad. I am admitting to this and if there's something wrong
with me, who is at fault?
"I just want the community to be aware that if an inmate needs treat
ment, pay for it or else you'll be paying for your children, your mothers,
your fathers, and then there's no crime anymore. A person that is guilty,
that is sick, deserves to be in a state hospital. If a person needs confining,
then confine him. If he's done a crime, confine him. If he's sick, treat him.
If I'm sick, treat me . . . "
Leftridge and Gaines are outraged at the way OSP officials have re
sponded to a court order that instructs Michael Franke, Director of Correc
tions and Manfred Mass, Superintendent, Oregon State Penitentiary, to
provide the two inmaes "w ith an accurate and correct document comput
ing the reduction of the sentence actually to be served in the custody of the
Oregon State Penitentiary as mandatory by ORS 421.120 (1) (b), or show
cause why they have not done so . . ." Leftridge says that "under ORS
421.120 (1) (b), it states that for every two days served in prison, one will be
computed as good time. There are three prisoners here who have received
court orders for this action and the officials here at OSP refuse to comply.
This institution refuses to acknowledge court orders."
"The Judge sent an order stating that the state should comply to
giving us good time on the actual time served," Gaines added. "The court
gave until November 6 to comply with Mr. Leftridge's order and until
November 10 to comply with mine. Nothing has happened.
"D on't misunderstand us . . we are not asking for the community or
anyone else to give us sympathy. We are just presenting the issues as they
are now, so that taxpaying citizens can get a handle on the seriousness
of the problems we are trying to solve. If anything, we are asking citizens
to take note of corrections' refusal to follow the law. All we are asking is
that the law be followed . . . "
_________________
NEXT WEEK: Prison officials respond & Black prisoners give insight
into what they are presently doing to prepare younger Black prisoners for
re-entry into the community.
________
Black Community Schools Have Glorious Past
by Nyewusi Askari
The present effort by Portland's Black community to establish a Satur-
ly School comes from a tradition created centuries ago by African-
nerican parents as a means of insuring the continued education of their
lildren.
Susie King Taylor, in the book "Reminiscences of My Life in Camp
ith the 33rd United States Colored Troops (Boston: 1902)", gives an elo-
lent retrospective account of how the process worked.
"I was born under the slave law in Georgia in 1848 and was brought up
r my grandmother in Savannah. There were three of us with her: my
tunger sister and brother. My brother and I, being the eldest, we were
nt to a friend of my grandmother, a Mrs. Woodhouse, a widow, to learn
read and write. She was a free woman and lived on Bay Lane between
sbersham and Price Streets, about half a mile from my house. We went
ery day with our books wrapped in paper to prevent the police or white
ersons from seeing them. We went in, one at a time, through the gate
to the yard to the kitchen, which was the school room. She had 25 or 30
lildren whom she taught, assisted by her daughter, Mary Jane. The
lighbors would see us going in some time, but they supposed we were
arning trades, as it was the custom to give children a trade of some kind,
her school, we left the same way we entered, one by one, and we would
) to a square about a block from the school and wait for each other.
"I remained at her school for two years or more, when I was sent to
rs. Mary Beasley, where I continued until May 1860, when she told my
andmother she had taught me all she knew, and grandmother had better
it someone else who could teach me more, so I stopped my studies for
while."
Laura S. Haviland (Laura S. Haviland - A Woman's Life Work, Labors
C on't on Page 10
"There's no magic and mysticism about getting a Black child to
learn. It takes hard work and it takes focus. There are Black Amer
ican Saturday Schools springing up across the nation as parents
ro o h r o th n n u b ile schools are not meeting their children's needs,"
Asa Hilliard told the 100-plus people that crowded into a room at the
King Neighborhood Facility to hear the Black United Front's plan
for Saturday School.
Photo by Richard J. Brown