Tarantino Stating that the US Justice/Prison System is Modern Day Slavery

Woolmer Hill School Visit

Spoke at Haslemere today. Pic with teacher Michelle Dixon, a friend from my BodyCombat class who kindly referred my talk to her school.

Shaun Attwood

Another Innocent Man Freed From Death Row

Doug Prade released after 15 years in prison: http://www.therepublic.com/view/story/ea27df9dfb78453d9cf76ad3f86487da/US--Murder-Exoneration#share …

This injustice makes me sick. Doug was sent to death row with no evidence against him. The state paid an expert witness to lie that his teeth matched a bite. It's straight from Alice in Wonderland! Summit County Prosecuting Attorney Sherri Bevan Walsh is appealing the verdict in the hope of putting Doug back on Death Row. How can this state-sanctioned murderess sleep at night. She should be on death row. I just had to Tweet her:

1. 
   

   5mShaun Attwood‏@shaunattwood

   @ProsecutorWalsh i'm curious as to why you want Doug Prade on death row? DNA destroyed your flimsy evidence, is it convictions at all cost?

If you want to Tweet the prosector, please use this link: https://twitter.com/ProsecutorWalsh

Brickyard Babe

 I always thought Ms. Judd, who became Mrs. Franchitti, was talented and hot. Clearly a power couple when you have Golden Globe nominated talent and a Borg-Warner trophy between you. Sadly, it seems the driver and the diva have split.

 So guys, here we have a beautiful, sports loving, bi-lingual, charity minded hottie who has connection for good seats at Indy. She is now single.

(P.S., The UK photo is a tip of the hat to a favored blog writer JWM at "A Place to Dwell"...she is a a big fan and in her last post looks equally  cute in the Kentucky gear)

Holy Trinity School, Crawley Visit

With Nerissa and Ben

 

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Shaun Attwood

Release the Hounds

 Drake and Genna were geared up and ready for the 15 degree cold and the floating ice when we hunted Friday morning.

 They watched us putting out and picking up decoys. They swam for recreation in the frigid brackish water. We did not drop any ducks as it was a morning of high fast flying mallards and black ducks whizzing by our decoy spread with less than no interest. We drank hot tea and warmed our hands over sterno and kept our hopes up. We knew the goose hunting in the afternoon would prove to be better. The dogs really don't care. They are happy to be out in the marsh and are ready for anything...especially a small piece of sausage egg 'n' cheese torn from the blind breakfast and offered to a gentle mouth.

 Drake belongs to my hunting buddy. Drake has a problem of being a little stand-offish in the blind. When a duck is shot he is a machine...but he will also honor the retrieve of  another dog with grace.I have known Drake since he was a tiny pup and would dognap him in a heartbeat. He is aces.

I wear armor of a black and a yellow against the travails of an indifferent universe.Truly, being mauled with Lab affection by this pair beats Hell out of Prozac or Zoloft as an anti-depressant.
The season is over except for Snow geese....we will probably chase them a bit in February. The Canadas we shot are in town at the barbecue joint that smokes birds for us. A little smoked goose during the Superbowl is a waterfowler's reward.

Prisoners Ordered to Destroy Library Books (by Jack)

When I was working in the prison library, the Arizona Department of Corrections librarian decided that if a book hadn’t been checked out in a year we were to pull them off the shelf, tear them in half, and throw them away. We weren’t to replace them with anything, just destroy them. There were six inmate aides present when we were told to do this. Another aide and I said that this was wrong and we wouldn’t participate. We were told that if we didn’t we would be written up for failure to comply with orders and fired from our jobs. We both walked out. 

Click here for Jack’s previous blog

 

Jack is serving life without parole, and has terminal cancer. Throughout my incarceration, Jack was a positive influence. He encouraged me to keep writing, to enter short-story competitions, and we proofread for each other. Jack is seeking pen pals, so anyone interested please email me at attwood.shaun@hotmail.co.uk for his details.

Shaun Attwood

Steyning Grammar School Visit

With Josh and Olly

Shaun Attwood

Guards Watch Tony Lester Bleed to Death

Video just emailed from Patti in Arizona about her mentally-ill nephew who the guards watched bleed to death: http://www.azcentral.com/12news/articles/20121217tony-lester-investigation.html

Shaun Attwood

12: Ex Mexican Mafia Hit Man Frankie Speaks to Shaun Attwood

10: Ex Mexican Mafia Hit Man Frankie Speaks to Shaun Attwood

11: Ex Mexican Mafia Hit Man Frankie Speaks to Shaun Attwood

9: Ex Mexican Mafia Hit Man Frankie Speaks to Shaun Attwood

8: Ex Mexican Mafia Hit Man Frankie Speaks to Shaun Attwood

7: Ex Mexican Mafia Hit Man Frankie Speaks to Shaun Attwood

The Night Before

 Because a morning duck hunt requires an early rise, members of our Club like to get down to the Farm the night before. Before we hit the racks, we often sit at the bar and have a bracing shot of whiskey or three as well as a few beers. The trick is to drink just enough that it promotes a quick descent into sleep...but not enough that residual effects at 6:45 A.M. legal shooting time make you feel like dry heaving into your blind bag.

 The bar at the Club is a comfortable room. A fireplace, stuffed waterfowl and deer heads, a place for your faithful hunting dog to slumber, a poker table for nights after the hunting is done and the guns are in their cases, all combine for  a general old school feel. The bar seats 4 and the couch and chairs hold the overflow. Windows behind the bar afford a clear view of the HD TV in the living room so you can watch the game while you drink.

The waterfowl season ends this Saturday. Tonight will find this hunter and a few of the guys at the club preparing for tomorrow's hunt as well as a full day on Saturday. The weather is cold and we expect some snow tomorrow. We bagged some geese on Monday and hope for a few more, as well as some black ducks or mallards to be hanging at the picking house.

Sky TV

My ten-minute author interview is on Sky 200 tonight at 11pm.

Shaun Attwood

Harvest

 Often when we hunt we come home with an empty game bag. Shots are missed, ducks do not care for your decoy spread, the geese are not moving. There are  as many reasons for a day without birds as there are species of waterfowl. That is not to say the day was unsuccessful. Some mornings offer such a gorgeous sunrise that the trip is worth it. Yesterday was one of those days. As the sun came up we hunkered  in the duck blind waiting for the beat of wings. The sunrise itself was so breathtaking that I was compelled to put down my shotgun and grab the camera.The black outline of a stand of poplars across the marsh was made vivid by the purples and reds and oranges flaming behind.

Then there are other things one notices that are more subtle. My hunting dog Genna is coming along well. Yesterday her blind comportment was exemplary. She was happy to be wearing the neoprene vest due to the frigid temperatures. She was quiet and well behaved. She sat contentedly for long periods keeping an eye out of the blind,scanning the sky and the marsh and she did not make a sound. A waterfowl dog can be a great retriever, but if the behavior in the blind is annoying your fellow hunters will be aggravated. Some dogs whine and fidget, slapping wet tails and nearly knocking over loaded guns. This behavior is unwelcome in a duck blind and thus I was pleased with Genna's composure. We got blanked on the morning duck hunt but scored with the geese in the afternoon. A separate post on that successful hunt will follow.

Frankie's First 18 Years in Prison and the Death of His Mother and Sister

Audio of Frankie telling me about being sentenced to 18 years in prison for $20 of cocaine (Arizona justice) and the death of his mother and the murder of his sister while he was inside.

Shaun Attwood 

Frankie Talks Chess Trash to Shaun Attwood

On the phone, I ended up talking chess trash with Frankie, the Mexican Mafia hit man I met in prison. It was just like old times, with him demanding to see my "shaved ass."

Shaun Attwood

Party Time Jacket

Here’s the final Party Time jacket. The publisher has incorporated as many of your suggestions as possible. The blurb on the back was written by my talented friend Gabriella Apicella. The smiley face logo from the original acid-house scene ...was suggested by my sister Karen Parsons. Other suggestions were incorporated from Stacey Wood, Mike Richardson, Jill Jan, Claire Bishop, Heather L. McQuaid, Esther Kim, and Ema Stuart. A big thank you, guys! My publisher said, “It's evocative of the era, and lots of ravers should be clamouring to read it!”

 

Party Time on Amazon

 

Shaun Attwood

Passport to Hell

I just ordered Passport to Hell by my friend Terry Daniels, who spent years in a women's maximum security prison in Spain: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Passport-Hell-Terry-Daniels/dp/184953344X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1358605202&sr=1-1

Shaun Attwood

The Thrill of Victory...the Agony of No Coverage

 The black and white set at my parent's house on Wakefield road in Rosemont was in a spare  upstairs bedroom that acted as a "den" or as it was known: "The TV room." On Winter Saturdays my brothers and I would eagerly await the famous introduction to the Wide World of Sports. We watched these broadcasts to see the downhill and the ski jumping. Blurry images of ski racers from venues with exotic names like Kitzpuhl, Austria or the Hannenkam, Cortina or Lillehammer. These grainy grey TV images were essentially moving cave paintings when compared to today's 50 inch HD plasma cable sets.

 Still. we loved watching the skiing that Jim McKay narrated for us. We jostled for position on the couch as the program began. "Ouch, move over....your feet smell....stop jiggling your leg you're shaking the couch...gimme another Oreo before you finish 'em...shut up its starting...I said shut up....Ohhhh!!!" We always grimaced and yelled in unison when poor Vinko Bogataj was shown getting creamed at the bottom of the Ski Jump.

 I did not start skiing until I was 12, but even in the early 70's we loved to watch the sport on TV. Jean Claude Killy was cool as Hell and we wanted to be him...actually the first and only time any of us wanted to be a Frenchman. Redford was just as cool in "Downhill Racer" and this film likely fed our interest in watching the Saturday afternoon Downhill competition. McKay described it all to us like a worldly uncle. When the races were on...we quieted down until the commercials when I, being the youngest, would inevitably take a brotherly beating for some trumped up infraction that had allegedly taken place when one of the skiers was whizzing across the convex 19 inch screen. The tiny white digits in the corner...timing by Longines...were a primitive precursor to the "screen in screen" split time millionth of a second results we get today.

 These days, despite my 46 inch HD Samsung with 1080 P and 1,000,000 :1 KHZ and a picture that looks more defined than real life, I cannot watch the World Cup Downhill. The coverage is sparse at best and unless you have a dish network you are not getting to see Ted Ligety compete at Wengen this weekend or the beautiful Lindsey Vonn or the equally fetching  Julia Mancuso tackle slopes that would make most of us call for a ride from the Ski Patrol vehicle. You can see some coverage on-line. But it is not the same.

It seems we have to wait every 4 years to see the Olympic coverage. Where the Hell is Sochi, Russia anyway?

Death Knell

   You walked down this dingy alley off Walnut street. There may be a ripe smelling homeless guy sleeping on cardboard. There were a few dumpsters and the street always seemed to glisten with moisture even on a 95 degree August day. This was Sydenham street; the location of the Vesper Club. When you walked in you were greeted in the foyer by a middle aged guy in an ill-fitting blazer. He worked the door for years. He knew your name, asked if you were meeting anyone,inquired about business and the weather and then ushered you through the inner door. His hand eagerly extended for the folded single or two.

   Once in the bar, your nose caught the smell of cigars and a whiff of scotch on the breath of a bar regular who turned to welcome you. There is a hint of wood polish and grilled meat whipped in with the smell of leather. From behind the bar Matty greets you by name. If it is happy hour you grab a stool at the long polished bar and Matty will make you an excellent Manhattan or pour you a Myers's and Tonic. There is horseradish cheddar and crackers on the bar, bowls of mixed nuts add a salty punctuation to your sip of the first drink. In Summer, the AC blasts and when coupled with a well shaken Mt. Gay Rum Daiquiri...provides a serene respite from a humid evening in the Quaker City.

   When you were a young lawyer, the partners took you to lunch here. You ate the Philadelphia lunch of Snapper Soup laced with Sherry followed by platters of chicken salad and fried oyster.  Cases and department business controlled the discussion at table during lunch.

    In contrast, the happy hour discourse could be the Flyers, horse racing, local politics or the State of the Union in general. The bartenders knew their craft and knew what you drank. George ruled the floor and knew your table preference. This was a club...not overly exclusive and a bit frayed at the edges...but a comfortable joint. I had drinks here with the Blog-stars The Trad,  Maxminimus and Yankee Whiskey Papa. When guys like that came to town, The Vesper Club was the perfect place to meet.

   I had my parent's 50th Wedding Anniversary party n the private bar downstairs. We had  annual Black Tie dinners for the Poker Club upstairs. You got buzzed and reminisced at retirement dinners.You could drink a few icy beers and watch the Phillies with some fellow fans. The brunch before Eagles games was legendary.

   Now it seems to be history. The building was sold. The Vesper Club got booted. In September they moved across the street to a doomed and fleeting semi- merger with the Racquet Club. The Racquet Club quickly pulled the cord on that relationship on December 29th. It is lamentable. In salute, one can have the James Bond created cocktail "The Vesper" and recall the good times.This cocktail is a blend of Gordon's Gin, Russian Vodka and  Lillet with a twist. Shaken on ice until very cold, served up in a Martini glass this drink is like the Club...a unique mix and classic.

Bishop's Stortford College

Today, I was back for the fourth year in a row at Bishop's Stortford College, where I did my first ever talk. The contact teacher reminisced about my first talk, how fresh from prison I paced for the whole hour like a wild animal in loud clunky shoes, with raw nervous energy crackling off me.

With George and Henry

 Shaun Attwood

The Wheeler Cup

Art Wheeler was a legendary local sportsman and a wonderful father, friend and mentor. Each year, one of the shooting Clubs I belong to faces off against Gulph Mills Golf Club to shoot for the coveted Wheeler Cup, named for this well loved gentleman. The competition takes place at Gulph Mills Golf Club. The format is a wobble trap with 5 shooting stations configured in an inverted "V" away from the trap house. Each gun shoots 5 clay birds per station....3 singles and a double. The birds are thrown by  a live trapper rather than an automatic house. The birds can be extremely challenging...especially the double because you do not know when it is coming. Each Club has some damn fine shots on their roster. Perfect runs of 25 are not that rare. I have never shot a straight round but have my share of 24's and 23's.

 This year my Club beat Gulph Mills. It was a close shoot and we won by 3 birds. Gulph Mills has won several years in a row so it was particularly gratifying for the Cup to come back to us.

 One of the finest shots on our team is the fetching young lady pictured below. Jane is the daughter of my hunting buddy Ned. She has been featured here before and her high level of skill bears mentioning again. Jane shoots clay target competitively on a Regional/National level. When most Junior High girls are cavorting about a local Mall with their faces pinned to their smart phones, Jane has her cheek pressed to the burnished walnut stock of a fine Beretta over/under. She is not concerned about when to schedule a manicure...but rather which chokes to use for a Sporting Clay stand. That is not to say she is not feminine...one look shows her stunning  outdoorsy good looks....matched by her good nature.We were fortunate to have her shoot for us this year and she may well have tipped the balance of the day.

An other fine addition to our team is the young man on the left in the last photo. That is Peter, the son of another waterfowl-mad friend of mine. Peter attends an Ivy League school but makes time during Winter Break to chase ducks and geese with us. He is another crack shot and helped tilt the balance. He is a fine pool player as well. Indeed, down at our duck hunting club over Christmas week he took me to school on the table despite his ungainly and unorthodox style with a pool cue.

It is great to shoot with these kids. Likewise, it is refreshing to see the traditions passed on to the next generation.

TV Interview

Did a ten minute author TV interview at the Loaded magazine studio with presenter Simone Thorogood (pictured). The interview goes on Sky 200 in 2 weeks time. The studio was a hive of artistic energy with everyone dressed like rock stars and club kids. I had my makeup done sat amid a row of Loaded models.

 Shaun Attwood

Kingsbury High School Visit

I did two talks to Year 10. KHS is the school where the children's TV series, Grange Hill, was filmed, and George Michael was a student there.

With Nimai

With Minhaj

With Annette

Shaun Attwood

Medical Issues (Part 14 by Lifer Renee)

Renee – Only a teenager, she received a 60-year sentence. Almost 20 years later, Renee is writing from Perryville prison in Goodyear, Arizona, providing a rare and unique insight into a women's prison.

Since you last heard from me, I’ve been to a medical-offsite visit to St. Luke’s Hospital. I am ok. I’m just in pain and the medication I’m currently receiving, well put it this way, I’m asleep half to an hour after 5 pm pill call. I am on 2 doses, one in the morning and one at night. ADOC refused surgery for my 2 herniated disks because they did not want to be “liable”. So they sent me out for a “pain management” consultation for epidermal shots with steroids and cortisone shots.

Let me tell you about my hospital trip… Monday morning, it was finally cool in the cell, and I was sound asleep when an officer keyed the door and knocked loudly. “Get up you have offsite medical in 20 minutes.” My head was foggy from the medicine. I looked at him like he had three heads.

“Renee, what are you going for?” my roommate asked.

“I don’t know. I guess the pain management shots. I need to get ready,” I replied. Scrambling and stumbling over myself, I hurried to get ready. I made a room-temperature cup of coffee, and smoked to try to clear my head. I rolled a couple of extra smokes, and made a second cup, knowing I’d regret it in a couple of hours, but I drunk it anyway.

I walked outside, past the officer as he did not give me a time limit, as he is looking at his watch. I sat at the picnic table and breathed, attempting to calm my anxiety. The officer walked in the control room and got on the phone. I finished my smoke. I walked to the control box, and asked the officer “Do I go to the V-gate or the sallyport?”

He looked at me. “They’re not ready yet. Just hang out.”

I walked away thinking I only had 20 minutes. About 15 minutes later, the officer came out of the control box. “They're ready for you, go to the sallyport.

I walk out the gate to the sallyport. I greeted a female officer who really didn’t seem happy to be there. I stripped, got belly-chained and shackled and loaded into a van.

We stopped at San Pedro Unit to pick up another inmate. I waited in the van for the next person to run through the degrading routine of stripping down, cough squatting and spread them. The van door opened and I saw D who I knew from a recent training class a few months back.

Smiles crossed our faces as we recognized one another.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Great. Have you heard what is going on at Pedro?”

“No. What?” I asked.

“10 yard is condemned. We have had no air. The roof collapsed. We haven’t had a maintenance officer since I’ve been there. I heard there were 350 outstanding work orders.”

“Where did the yard go?”

“Well they moved 10 yard to San Carlos and moved Televerde, Women in Recovery and diabetics to 8 yard.”

“Are they going to fix it?” I asked.

“They said it would take six months to a year.” She fell silent as we were pulling into San Carlos Unit to pick up two additional women.

D recognized the women as they’d recently moved from San Pedro to San Carlos. D and the other ladies began chattering. I became engrossed with the surroundings outside the van.

Before I knew it the officers picked up their firearms and we were across the street at Santa Rosa waiting to pick up another individual for our road trip. The female officer was out of the van, looming impatiently. We waited for 45 minutes before another officer told our drivers the individual we were waiting for was being released that day. We began our trip. D went to sleep. The other two were chattering in Spanish. I silently enjoyed the surrounding streets that I’ve never driven on, stores I’ve never shopped in, new cars driving by.

Late for our appointment, we arrived at St. Luke’s. We unloaded and entered the building through the back entrance. We were escorted to a waiting lobby. I was so grateful to sit down as the shackles were hell on the ankles.

A nurse silently handed us clipboards and pens and about 10 pages worth of paperwork to fill out.

We filled out the paperwork, turned it in and waited. D was called first. She was in there about a half hour, and one of the ladies from San Carlos went in for about a half hour. Finally, they called me.

I was escorted to a room with just a stretcher. I was waiting for the doctor when a nurse came in, looked at the female officer, and said, “We have to clean the lobby. We have real appointment coming in. Can the other inmates wait in here?”

My jaw hit the floor as the officer said yes.

Not wanting to protest and have my appointment rescheduled I sat silently.

Then here came the doctor.

He opened my chart, confirmed my name, and stated, “I’m not giving you pain shots.”

“Wait, why?” I replied.

“See right here on your MRI. It states you have fluid leaking and pressing against your spinal cord. If I gave you the shots, it would increase that pressure and actually cause more pain. I’m sending this back and recommending surgery.”

I was blown back. I had two officers and three inmates with me in my doctors visit. I couldn’t even form a question. The doctor saw the last person, and we were off back to Perryville. All I could think about was “fluid on my spinal cord” the entire ride back.

Two weeks went by since my last visit to St. Luke’s. This last week has been stressful. Monday we heard we – 24 yard – was moving to Santa Maria Unit and that we would be losing our jobs. We were ok with that until Televerde got involved. Now because of my job I will be moving to Santa Cruz.

Who knows who I will have for a roommate, and what yard I’ll live on. Nothing, just uprooted from a yard of 192 to a yard of 800 because ADOC want to make this yard intake, closed and maximum-security custody.

Those going to Maria were excited because they thought the yard would be open, but no wait for it, Santa Maria has 2 yards. One yard is filled with DUI (drunk driver) minimum-security inmates, and the other yard will be the medium-security inmates from 24 yard.

The funny thing about it is you have violent offenders doing life sentences about to be housed on the same unit as minimum-security DUI inmates. Make any sense to you? It is funny to me because I believe ADOC forgot that Santa Maria is the very unit C.J. Acker escaped from by walking out the front sallyport to the parking lot, and she was doing two life sentences.

What I know is my anxiety level is high, but I have all of my belongings packed. I am just waiting for a decision, a bag and a bus.

 

Click here for Medical Issues (Part 13)

 

Shaun Attwood

Greetings from the Abyss by Jack (Part 9)

Jack is serving life without parole, and has terminal cancer. Throughout my incarceration, Jack was a positive influence. He encouraged me to keep writing, to enter short-story competitions, and we proofread each other’s chapters. Jack is seeking pen pals, so anyone interested please email me at attwood.shaun@hotmail.co.uk for his details.

Hello my friend, how are you today? Well I hope. I’m doing ok. How is Yasmin. I hope she is doing well.

Work has been tedious lately. We are once again working on the Veteran’s Day float and are scrambling to get everything finished by next Tuesday. Very long days shaping, moulding, and painting. I have Styrofoam all over me most days. This stuff gets everywhere, and by everywhere, I mean everywhere. I’ve got it in places I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to have it.

Well it’s now been two years since I was first diagnosed with cancer. I feel pretty good, nothing to complain about. I’m still waiting on my August CT results and the blood work, but since I haven’t heard anything I am hopeful.

It amazes me that Sheriff Joe Arpaio keeps getting reelected. He has cost Maricopa County millions of dollars in settlement costs for civil violations, not to mention the legal fees to defend these suits. He publically flaunts violations of federal law and misuses his office to silence anyone who tries to challenge him on these issues. It’s kind of sad that the only person running against him in the upcoming election is being smeared by Joe relentlessly. It’s obvious that Joe’s opponent doesn’t have the money to buy TV time. Oh yea, you’ll love this one. There was a mistake made by the election print shop on all the Spanish language ballots that were sent out. It seems the date listed for the person to vote is actually two days after the Election Day. It only appears on the Spanish language ballots and the elections officials say they will take steps to inform every one of the mistake by doing public service announcements and mailing out replacement ballots with the correct dates. Those announcement were supposed to start immediately but so far I haven’t seen one yet. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that this “mistake” happened on the ballots for the one group that is most highly against Joe and his policies. Yea and I’m really the Pope.

 

Click here for Greetings from the Abyss by Jack (Part 8)

 

Shaun Attwood

The Case

Now that my guest Alena Fiori is on her flight back to Phoenix, I can no longer hold back the true feelings I harbour towards her 25kg case with a broken wheel that I lugged across Paris and London while deleriously ill. The case almost caused a fight between three taxi drivers outside of Guildford Station when one refused to take it. It is possessed, and is being dealt with accordingly.

Shaun Attwood

In Paris

Shaun Attwood

My Niece Yasmin

Just got back from Paris with man flu from hell but my spirits were raised to see that my sister Karen  has now raised over £20,000 to help sick children. Karen, her husband, Andrew and their daughter Yasmin were featured on ITV news here: http://www.itv.com/news/london/update/2013-01-02/two-year-old-raises-thousands-for-charity/

Shaun Attwood