Professional Documents
Culture Documents
prisoners away
in the
middle of the
night to destinations
too unreal to believe - sort of like all those bigfoot and Loch Ness monster
stories I heard as a kid. But as I neared my first anniversary of prison time,
I began hearing more and more about this mythical magic bus and actually
met someone who claimed to have been a passenger on several of the
midnight runs the bus allegedly makes on an ongoing basis.
His name was Lloyd, or at least that's how he introduced himself to me. I
was in the hole again after trying to send out yet another batch of letters.
Lloyd was brought into my cell in the wee hours of the morning and
since the seg unit was full, I got the pleasant surprise of a guest. He was a
friendly fellow with curly gray hair and he squinted behind his wire-rimmed
spectacles. If he had a beard, he'd make a great St. Nick. I guessed he
must have been about 60 years of age and he spoke with a distinct British
accent. His articulate vocabulary suggested he was a well-educated man.
It's considered rude and a bit dangerous to ask a prisoner why he's behind
bars.
If they want you to know they'll eventually tell you, and that's the
attitude I adopted from day one. But I learned Lloyd's story only because
he asked me to help him get a message out to a friend of his in the free
world. When I told him that might not be for a few weeks (I had no idea
how long I'd be in the hole this time), he said that "a few weeks would
be just fine".
San Diego, California and after I assured him I wouldn't' forget the number,
386
After hearing this, I couldn't help but laugh, and poor Lloyd must have
thought
I assumed
I met
dozen, and we always seem to meet here in the hole!" I then went
on to tell Lloyd a bit about George
Morales,
others. But Lloyd was quick to tell me "I never knew I was working
for the bastards until it was too late" "What's that supposed to mean?" I
asked.
"I was one of the auditors working for the Nugan Hand Bank
in Australia".
my ignorance and assured me that the Nugan Hand Bank was one of
the biggest public scandals
summarized
the following
for me;
and he
committed suicide and left an explosive note suggesting that the bank
was willfully
laundering
drug
investigation
ensued.
That
actually
moneys
on a daily
investigation
revealed
basis, a major
that
the
CIA
WE
information to her.
But
Instead, Lloyd
"detained"
U.S. Customs who said they wanted to ask him a few questions.
by
But
that
he was
under
arrest
for
"Conspiracy
to
import
and
distribute heroin". I knew Lloyd for less than nine hours, but he was
no drug
smuggler
by any
stretch
of the
imagination.
From the
phone call and the only lawyer he spoke with in the last six month
was a Public Defender who made an appearance at his arraignment.
Had I not already met Morales, Tolliver, and Garcia, I might not have
even listened to this man. But having the benefit of spending days on
end with all three of those guys and knowing their stories to be true,
Lloyd's
credibility
desperation
incommunicado
and frustration
in his voice
of being kept
He
was also quite worried that his family would be worried sick about
him.
But most of all Lloyd was angry. He was arrested and booked
under a name other than his own, and he was told that it was done
"for
your
own
protection".
Yet
now he said
it was
the
U.S.
388
But what intrigued me the most was this endless bus trip Lloyd was
on. After Llyod rattled off a list of some three dozen prisons and jails
he visited over the last six months, I came to the realization that the
"magic bus" was far more than a mere rumor.
He stayed at some
facilities for a few hours and yet others for a few days, but he was
always kept in segregation or a holding cell. Lloyd explained to me
how he was continuously denied access to a telephone and was told
by a guard that this was simply a "security precaution" that was in
place for every prisoner "in transit".
communicate
guidelines.
with a lawyer
is overridden
by the
right to
BOP's
security
beauty of the
with
embarrassing
prisoners
kind.
time,
they
even
those
of a politically
have
perfected
some
very
media
that sometimes
catches
the scent
of scandal.
By
Any prisoner being moved from one prison facility to another poses a
potential
security
escape
risk,
risk since
especially
if
that
the
movement
prisoner
presents
being
moved
a potential
has the
389
opportunity
to communicate
right to communicate
assumes that transit time would only be a day or two at very most
because the U.S. Marshall Service actually flies prisoners around on
their own chartered 727.
on a whole
new dimension,
and essentially
indefinitely
simply by constantly
and effectively
prison in California,
a few
five days later could have him on his way to his "new"
Atlanta
prison destination!
thought
Blackwell's
telephone
going.
more seriously since I finally discovered the magic bus was a genuine
reality that could not easily be ignored.
386
Soon I myself
would be on the USA bus tour of the magic bus tour compliments of
the U.S. Justice Department.
for
about
a week
before
I was
finally
We shared a
released
back
into
and aircraft
handling than Terry Muniz (my flight instructor in Puerto Rico) ever
did.
teens.
He could
easily
be flying
for
United Airlines
instead of
Morales, but Gary thrived on adventure and the lure of big bucks.
Apparently
we were talking about the guns and drugs George and Gary had
been
running
Congressional
for
Uncle
Sam.
Gary
had
told
me
that
the
George was also going to interview him, but that George was cutting a
secret deal with the CIA to remove the White
equation and put the blame on a couple of "low level rogue military
officers". The CIA had already sent an agent posing as a lawyer to
meet with George,
that he would be
excluded from the deal that would get George a "Get Out Of Jail"
pass. Gary had good cause to be concerned.
Gary in his deal, Betzner could spend the next 25 years of his life
387
"don't trust
anyone form the U.S. government who wasn't willing to back up their
verbal promises with a letter to your lawyer".
cooperate
with
Maestri
and testify
Unfortunately,
before Senator
John
Kerry in
and misplaced his trust in a jailhouse snitch named Terry Brito to help
arrange
a helicopter
helicopter
escape
about
the
except the pilot and passenger were both FBI agents, and Gary was
hit with new escape charges and moved permanently
to the hole
and Discharge).
immediately knew something was wrong but was not allowed to use a
telephone. I was escorted to R&D and was not allowed to retrieve any
of my files nor legal papers.
Once in R&D I asked a dozen questions but received only one answer
"Shut up and get in the holding cell". About
an
hour
later
Lt.
Foster walked in and with a big smile announced "You're stay with us
is over Gorcyca, I hope you found our hospitality satisfactory?"
am I going?"
I demanded
"Where
away
I exclaimed.
out
previous
of
sight.
threat
"I know"
Foster
I sat there
acknowledged
stewing
in anger
as he
recalling
parole board. My sentencing guidelines and the judge both said I'd only
be required to serve 13 months, of my five year sentence
and that 13
months would be up in less than a month. After three hours two U.S.
Marshalls came to claim me and transport me to the Dade County Jail.
To put it mildly, the Dade County Jail is one scary and violent place not to mention filthy and grossly
overcrowded.
Thirty
guys were
by another
gambling debt.
prisoner,
allegedly
because
he reneged on a
by 25 foot
of Cubans. I never saw so many tattoos in one place than in this cell.
These guys were veteran criminals and Miami's worst.
prison, the prisoners were sophisticated
In federal
I would
spend
prisoner,
few months
that
all the
violence
Sure there
I was a federal
was
was orchestrated
violence
most violent
in federal
prison,
DCJ every prisoner was a potential time bomb and if they were having
a bad day, anyone within reach could easily become their victim when
they exploded.
Here a prisoner
shoes
away
snatched
could
have
his
meal
tray
or
of the strongest and the weak either submitted or perished .. The law
of the jungle
prevailed over
all
aspects
of life
here,
and
unlike
389
federal prison, most of the men locked up here truly belonged here.
Many
of
the
withdrawal
occupants recently
which
arrested
were
going
through
After only three days in this hell hole, some gorilla appropriately
named "Dog" tried to rape me in the shower stall.
for the attack, and he caught me totally off-guard.
grabbed and twisted at my wet hair trying to force me down onto the
floor.
I instinctively
went for his knees for a takedown knowing I'd stand a better chance if I
could get him down on the ground.
punching me furiously and those punches were finding their mark specifically
nose.
I shouted for help but I might as well have been in the middle
If he put his
But by the grace of God I was saved from the ultimate humiliation
when yet a bigger gorilla named Willie Steed appeared and pulled
Dog off of me and handed him his towel. Dog protested vigorously
but it was clear that Steed was the top dog in this cell block.
bulging muscles and scarred flesh,
With his
"Thanks my ass -
you owe me your dinner tray for a week white boy!" he clarified.
problem" and it wasn't.
"No
convinced
I would
me that I didn't
belong
here and if I
Everyone in the
cell would now think I am weak and would try to take advantage of
me. And I couldn't give all of my food trays to Steed. I would have to
do something to make them think otherwise.
If I didn't do something,
any other
circumstances,
I wouldn't
even
consider.
I am
Early the following morning while everyone was still asleep, I plugged
in the coffeepot
boiled,
I unscrewed
the broom
character
in this
might actually
have a friend
or two
dump.
unplugged the coffee pot and slowly walked over to Dog who slept
soundly in a bottom bunk. "Yo my man!" I whispered to him.
As he
growled and gradually opened his eyes, I emptied the coffee pot on
his head and neck and began pummeling his face with my fists.
His
screams woke everyone in the cell and in ten minutes some of the
occupants were calling for a guard hollering "Get this crazy fuck outta
here!"
391
to
that
and
my
I was quite
government envelope
this
letter sealed.
I was surprised
to receive
I extracted
sentence it contained -
"I hope
It was unsigned
of course, but I'd bet my last nickel this was Foster's sick humor at
work.
Jail some six months later and was returned to MCC Miami.
"I hoped you learned some manners while you were away" he
chirped.
said "I see you got my letter. How come you didn't
postcard?"
Blackwell's
Oh joy.
send me a
right back to
County Jail other than Stark County, Florida and the Atlanta Penitentiary.
I was back less than a week before the old gang found me and I was
back at work in the law library, typing and translating motions, legal
opinions, and case law for the guys.
fiasco was making it's way through the halls of Congress and Morales
had me write his final letters to Donald Gregg, William Casey, and
Joe Fernandez.
His final
It didn't take long for word to get back to Foster that I was helping the
other prisoners with their legal work. He never did approve of my
volunteer work so to speak, because most of the Spanish speaking
prison population when never get the chance to file a grievance or
motions
without
someone
like me to explain
and translate
the
In any event,
Foster
demanded
with their problems and as he stated "Serve your own time and mind
your own business".
moral,
and ethical
requesting
it.
and everyone
Unlike
some
that
of the jailhouse
lawyers who
actually
relatives,
I charged
than someone
government.
20%
of
entrapped
Without exaggeration,
the
prisoners
and prosecuted
by the U.S.
incarcerated
in
federal
prisons,
are
entrapment
variety
committed.
Over
separated
from
his wife
and
children
by such
shams -
My efforts helped two men get new trials on appeal and five others
get reduced sentences.
394
asked
When
if I was violating
the
But as much as Foster would rant, rave, and threaten, I knew better
than to argue or do anything to provoke him. In fact, I avoided being
in the same room with him whenever possible. But he enjoyed getting
in my face to remind me that he controlled my life behind bars. He
even boasted that he had the power to keep me jailed indefinitely with
"new charges" if he so desired. I didn't doubt him for a second. He left
the library that night threatening
translating
other prisoner's
395
396
397
398
399
400
It seemed
that Nick himself was profiting handsomely from confiscated drugs that
he'd sell back to other
dealers
including
Benitez
and
had been
one of the few people who could prove it, was jailed and
Egil came to the defense of his father and also vowed to expose the
Navarro
operation,
Egil
was
picked
up
and
forced
to
sign
discovered
inside Navarro's
some honest federal agents, but Nick simply explained that the 30
kilos of cocaine were in his house because he didn't want to keep
them in the sheriff office vault since they "might be stolen from the
sheriff's office".
touched by prosecutors.
meet Navarro and have business dealings with the man some ten
years later.
Indeed in was in 1998 when I was the president of Globus Group on Brickell
Drive in Miami when Navarros lawyer Kirk Girbach would
series of meetings between Navarro, myself, and others
taking
one
of
Nick's
arrange
for
a
the
purpose
of
private
company
devices including wireless highway call boxes. But when Nick offered to
pay me in cocaine instead of money for a NASDAQ shell. When
through
me
and
market
makers.
It was
then
that
instantly
recalled the Ingvaldsen case and remembered that I was dealing with
a real criminal who hid behind a badge for more than twenty years. I
could not forget how Benitez had told me that both he and Navarro
wanted Simone dead, and how they made it so. But I have to admit
that chance to make $500,000 temporarily
blinded me as to who I
was really dealing with. Alone with Nick, I casually mentioned that we
had mutual associates.
names
and Simone
of Ingvaldsen
on him and
he just
laughed.
"What's so funny Nick?" I asked and he replied "I personally sent one
of those guys to prison for life and the other to hell".
He further
boasted that he was the last one to see Simone alive. When I didn't
share in his laughter he tried to lighten matters a bit with his idea of a
joke "Did you meet them in prison or hell?" "I gotta go Nick.
proposal to Kirk".
I'll get a
Navarro
even
if
I was
Not wishing
decent
guy,
a proposal
I attempted
involvement
two
that
Later
(Coleman
and
402
Quintana)
Seldom
if ever,
investigation
will
against
one law
enforcement
agent
take
up
an
Salvati
case, even solving an old murder case was not enough motivation to
open an investigation
against
an old friend
of the
FBI.
The feds
Apparently
it benefits
rather the
them
more to
blowers
This is the
This
readily
accounts for
why
very
few government
corruption cases make it to a court room and why most of the cases get
sealed, safely removed from the eyes of the public and the media. "Justice
for all" is not a reality in America today.
But back in the law library that night, I had just finished preparing a
statement or George Morales to give to Ralph Maestri and started on
Elrings complaint, when my pal Foster walked over to the IBM Selectric
typewriter and snatched my work right out of the carriage. He seemed
elated to find Erling's paperwork in my typewriter.
He stood me up and
cuffed me, then once again marched me off to the hole. I was determined
to make this my last visit to the hole and put my mind to work. I was going
to stand my ground on this one and tell the new warden (Clark) the whole
story of Foster's crusade to censor me.
Mr. Clark was of the same calibre and integrity as James Meko.
I soon
discovered that Clark was of the old school and never believed an inmate
over one of his own staff and gave his staff his full support whether they
were right or wrong. So after I spent a good ten minutes detailing all of
Foster's threats, giving him a list of witnesses that overheard the threats
and even watched Foster steal some 600 pages of notes that were really
my disguised prison diary, along with my legal file, correspondence file,
and the first eleven chapters of
write a book about prison life), he just looked at me and replied with a
single word - "So?"
warden.
new
in the hole since their paperwork would have to reflect some violation of
prison policy and again he kept his response to an absolute minimum "No".
By now, I had arranged for other prisoners to call my mother and a close
friend whenever I was taken to the hole so they would not wonder why
I wasn't calling or writing. After the third day in the hole I decided I would
protest the censorship issue the only way I could from isolation - with a
hunger strike. Prison officials really don't like hunger strikes because it is
one scenario they really can't hide or cover-up since the medical staff
has to be alerted and records are created.
die from a hunger strike, people higher
prisoners
were
But no one paid much attention to me until my 10th day when Mr. Clark
appeared at my cell door and asked why I wasn't eating. I informed him
that I would continue my hunger
personal
papers
strike
until
my
legal
papers
and
disappeared.
404
The next day I was taken out for a shower and was surprised to see
Morales back in solitary standing in the cell next to
mine.
We
weeks I guess I lost about ten or fifteen pounds but I actually still felt
pretty good, just a little weak.
calling and asking questions about me. The next day, Foster showed up
at my cell with a telephone and told instructed me to tell the person on the
other end of the phone that I was okay and not being mistreated. "Whose
on the line?" I asked. "Someone at the DOJ".
I told
Foster I wasn't going to lie for him nor this prison and went to lie down. I
have no idea how he handled that call but two days later a guard brought
me out of my cell and said "Foster wants you to shave and put on some
clean clothes". "Tell Foster to give me back my legal papers" was all I said
and refused to shave or change.
405
I don't
rudely
line. Long
short
refused
to
story
sign
15 minutes later Foster was back with Blackwell and a new guard I never saw
before, They forcefully pulled me out of my cell into an empty cell where they had a
chair waiting for me. The burly guard and Blackwell sat me down in the chair and
grabbed my left arm and extended it. Altho ugh I tried to resist I did not have much
strength. I then saw Foster coming at me with a hypodermic needle with maybe 10
cc of a clear liquid inside. He told me it was a vitamin B12 shot. I didnt believe him
for a second. At the moment he inserted the needle into my vein, I jerked away
violently and the needle ripped from under my skin. (I still have that scar on my
arm today) I was not going to be put to sleep. But I did not fall asleep. In less than
2 minutes I felt groggy and sort of drunk. I actually extremely felt calm and
peaceful. They bandaged my arm and marched me out to the visiting room. All I
really remember was hearing Michael Mansfields familiar friendly voice telling me
the tiny girl sitting at the table was Susan. I remember someone asking if I was
on drugs, and Foster saying something about me being an addict in rehab. I
remember feeling a small glimmer of hope that someone came to rescue me. I
think I blacked out after that or merely fell asleep. I simply cannot recall. What I do
407
After they left, Foster and friends took her card from me and then took me
back to the hole where I was just glad to lay down on a stationary surface
and sleep. The following day, one of the more decent guards told me that
Foster was worried that he used too much Thorazine on me.
I now
realized how and why Chris Simmons had such unusual conversations
with me in seg. Never one to use drugs, that experience scared the hell
out of me and now whenever Foster paid a visit, my eyes quickly
searched his hands for another syringe. Michael was my knight in shining
armor he came to save me with a reporter and I could not e ven talk with
him. A shot of Thorazine is like drinking a bottle of Tequila. Your mind is
working but much slower than normal and your body simply will not
cooperate in a timely fashion with the commands being sent by your brain.
408
After
He answered
me with a question of his own "Do you want your papers back or not?"
I signed and dated the picture, I assumed to document the end of my
hunger strike.
me
Foster surprisingly
honored
the garbage bag which I put on the floor and went for a second
He seemed
like an amiable
my new cellmate
icons scattered
all
smoker all my life I immediately was overcome by the smoke and felt
nauseated.
change as was the procedure prisoners were told to use when they
409
cellies.
There was no way I could endure all that smoke for a day let alone a
week.
I filled out three written requests for a cell change and sent
one to the warden, one to the medical officer, and one to the housing
unit manager.
cell change so I was asked to sit in one of the common areas to wait
for a new cell.
While I was waiting, I untied the knotted garbage bag to start sorting
my papers.
good and I had to give him credit for pulling one over on me.
As I
scooped the trash back into the bag George Morales walked in "Hey
man, I've been looking for you" he announced.
typing f or a few
days
something typed.
George"
I replied
assuming
he wanted
was written
number.
NBC News and we've been talking with him about the guns for drugs
gig, and I mentioned
"And
he wants
number
collect". "Thanks
George".
410
I was touched that George would go out of his way to help me like that.
I wasted no time in calling the number and got through to the man
on my third attempt.
hoped that Mr. West would not disclose that he was a reporter.
But
after speaking with him for a few minutes I didn't care any more.
This
Liston Smith.
I talked as fast as I could fearing that the call would be cut off as it did
on
one
occasion
International.
that
made
three
call
to
Amnesty
way
Ty
But even
as I was saying good bye, I could see Foster and two guards walking
directly towards me.
I asked.
"You know for a college grad, you're not too bright Gorcyca". "How's
that?" I asked.
the hole less than ten hours ago, and here I already find you calling a
big time New York reporter.
your time quietly?
cell, and that's exactly what you're going to have. Let's go".
And off
I was back I the hole about a week when Mr. Black, one of the nicest
people I ever met in a guard's uniform told me that some reporter was
here to see me.
knowing for sure.
thought.
I assumed
But that
taken
to
night I was
R&D where
rousted from
I was
promptly
put
in
handcuffs and led out to a waiting bus outside in the cool night air.
Foster was nowhere in sight but the R&D guard said he had left a
message for me "What's that?" I asked. "Bon Voyage". I asked three
ti mes where we were goi ng.
court. Finally the dri ver just said I heard y ou the first ti me bud. I
have no idea where youre tomorrow, but tonight were taking you to
a facili ty in Nor th Florida. So be quiet and enjoy the ride. He sai d
as he then put some rockabilly music on the radio. The bus drove off
into the night and within 30 minutes we were heading North on 1-95.
There were only two other prisoners on the bus and three armed guards.
We were separated by a thick metal mesh. No matter what or how I
412
asked the guards where we were headed, they did not respond at all and
ignored me completely. I guess the previous explanation from the driver
was good enough. I eventually fell asleep and awoke about eight hours
later when I was hustled off the bus at Eglin AFB in Florida. I was
put in their seg unit for less than a day and was back on the bus again.
Over the next three months I would be taken to some two dozen
prisons/jails in Virginia, West Virginia,
Lubbock, Texarkana, EI Reno, Lompoc, etc. and kept in their seg units
for a day or two
Only at
It was in that one call that I learned my mother had been in contact with
Ty West who apparently tried to visit me at MCC Miami but was
413
him what was going on and where I was right now. She broke down into
tears on the phone and worried aloud that I would not see her again and
maybe die in prison. When I asked her why she said that, she told me that
she received a late night call from a man who refused to identify himself
but who told her that if she didn't tell her son to "smarten up and keep his
mouth shut", the next time she'd see me would be in a box at my funeral.
She was very distraught and nothing I said would calm her down. We
said a prayer together and I assured he that I'd see her soon if Ty
West prevailed
Twice the bus would stop in the middle of the night and two prisoners were
taken off the bus the first time. The second time we made a pit stop, I think
414
it was Mississippi, I was taken off and put in a smaller van like this one and
taken to Texarkana to meet up with yet another bus. It was clear they were
playing a shell game with Mr. West. At EI Reno prison in Oklahoma
was able to obtain copies of the BOP policies and guidelines that
regulate movement of a prisoner. According
were only three justifications
to the guidelines
there
psychiatric
prison
facilities
2) If the
transported
around
prisoner
needs
special
medical
for months
at great
taxpayer
Furthermore
that
mandates a
Even
the
Hastings in
I guess government
agencies believe they are exempt from the laws that govern the rest of us.
Only when I sent a letter to Judge Hastings from Oklahoma advising him
of my continuous movement and current location, did he order my
immediate return to Miami. But while I was on the road with the magic bus
tour, my second parole hearing came and went without me just like the first
one.
and
guidelines
said,
I was
now
going
on
my
36th
consecutive month behind bars. One day, just after I reestablished contact
with Ty West, after the elections already took place and I was told to pack
my stuff once again and report to R&D.
but relieved.
Any doubts I once had about the magic bus were now laid to
rest.
I cannot hank Ty West enough for his bull-dog determination to find and
interview me.
Maybe one day I can meet him and thank him personally.
Even though the BOP stayed one head of Ty West, just knowing he knew
there was something wrong going on, made people in the Bureau of Prsions
start treating me much better.
416
When I arrived in Miami the cigarette burns on my arms had already healed
to the point of being
segregation were in R&D that day for some reason and quipped to me,
Those must have been some big ass mosquitoes eh Gorcyca!? Yeh and
they are all chain smokers too. I answered. The room grew silent. Nobody
laughed as they all knew I was the BP-10 Champion of MCC Miami and had
learned about BP-11s and BP-12s as well, but whenever I requested one of
those forms, I was always told We ran out of those forms.
417
418
419
420
421
"I can think of no more despicable element of our society than law
enforcers who manipulate the law in order to obstruct it."
422