I have written an article, or rather an essay which depicts some of the brutal and sadistic conditions here at Florida State Prison. My life, as well as others are in danger; I have attempted to report such matters to the officials and was virtually ignored. I’ve wrote to several members of the executive branch, both in FL. and D.C. and have received no response. I have wrote pleading letters to various legal aids and voluntary lawyers…nothing. It is very likely my mail never left this building. I have not the thousands of dollars it would take to obtain the service of an attorney, nor do I have the knowledge and time it would take to fight these issues in court against the state, attorney general, and all the legal wizards the D.O.C. has in it’s stables. My only recourse is to expose these things to the public. The longer I can keep the public’s attention and concern on these issues, the safer things will be for me at FSP. My life depends on this right now.I, Michael Moskowitz fully authorizes this essay to be published and or used in publications, newspapers or any other means to convey this information to the public. I, Michael Moskowitz fully authorizes this essay to be published and or used in publications, newspapers or any other means to convey this information to the public.
Until most recently, many people found no significance associated with such information, but add to it the name of a human being, Frank Valdez, and a spark will flicker and linger for a moment.
X-wing, I believe, is the most God-forsaken spot on the map in the U.S.A. “Trouble Makers” are sent here to be tortured, brutalized and murdered. Murdered not only by the state’s electric chair, but by the hands of sadistic prison guards. Frank Valdez tried to warn us, but what happened to his cries for help? They were met with obduration (resistance) by the public.
What happened to Frank Valdez? He was beat into eternity by a gang of “Good Old boys,” a term commonly used for enforcer prison guards.
My name is Michael Moskowitz, and I want the public to realize that the truth it has been given is not the truth at hand. Things involving Frank Valdez will be shifted and down played, while other conditions at Florida State Prison (FSP) will be swept under the rug by the powers that be.
Everything will look good, the department will put on a show of casting out its demons to pacify the public— “we have things under control.” But that just won’t be true. Certain things will continue beyond the public eye, and at some point in the future another broken and dead body will fall down the hallway. Maybe next time it will look like suicide. Maybe next time a person will be tormented into suicide…it’s been done before.
In the past 10 years that I’ve been here, I have been cowardly. I’ve stayed my hand from writing, and I’ve held my mouth from speaking. Perhaps this is due more to good judgement than it is to cowardice; As I pointed out to two prison investigators from Tallahassee last week, if I’d not have been so careful with the information I have, they would be investigating my death. I don’t want for the spark of Frank’s death to just ebb away, I want it to catch fire. The public must know that the death of Frank Valdez is but a bone in a closet full of skeletons!
Beatings and deaths are not the only problems at FSP, they are just the only ones come to light. Let me tell you of the “arenas.”
Altogether there are seven close management C.C.M.D. and disciplinary confinement (D.C.) wings at F.S.P. Inmates on these wings are locked in their cells and are not to have contact with each other. But each wing has an “arena” out of sight of cameras (showers, closets, etc) where guards pit prisoner against prisoner for amusement or other reasons.
The stipulation of the fights depends on what the guards want. Never will they risk a favored prisoner in a fight against a more powerful opponent. Rather, it will be one of their “hit men” against a homosexual, snitch or other undesirables.
I’ve watched several of these events and was the victim of one. The wing sergeant pitted me against a very large black man known as “Missing Link.” They took us to the bottom floor of H-wing and told him to “beat this fag’s ass.”
Afterwards, I needed medical treatment. The same wing sergeant escorted me to medical and remained present the whole time I was told to say I fell off my sink or I would not make it back to my wing. I received eight stitches along my mouth and a sprained ankle.
A few weeks ago, this hit man, “Missing Link,” was put onto another homosexual. My incident occurred May of 1999. This is not my first taste of physical violence at FSP. In 1996 I was placed on G.M.III status (the lesser restrictive status) so I could live and work in general population.
During that six-month period, I had the orbit in my left eye fractured and was assaulted by another prisoner with a knife, among other altercations. This was all due to my refusal for sex.
My mother has been a prison guard for over twenty years in Florida, and the other prisoners wanted to “turn me out” to homosexuality to get back at her and the department. After six months of this treatment, I requested to be placed in protective management (P.M.), and was taken before the special review board where I presented several letters written by other prisoners who were threatening me with violence if I would not “be with them” sexually. The board placed me on special review with the guy who assaulted me with the knife, but refused to put me on PM. “Your life is not in danger, Mr. Moskowitz.” I was then placed back on administrative confinement, waiting on an open cell in population. It was then that I realized the violence would not stop. The officials seemed to want me raped and dead.
There were hundreds of men out in population waiting for me, knowing what I told the board.
At the end of my mental and emotional endurance, I tried to kill myself with a razor. Forty stitches and eleven days later I was regressed to GM-II where I wouldn’t need “protection” because I was locked in a cell 24 hours a day.
Six months later, in 1997, I was returned to population where I promptly requested PM. Once more I was given the distinct impression that if I tried to pursue the issue I would be put back on CM. I couldn’t stand the thought of being locked away in another cell in my life, so I did the only thing I could do—I found someone to “be with.” I determined I’d be better off to willingly have sex with one person than I would be to face violence and rape by multiple people for my non-conformity. The most tragic part to this is that the person I chose to “be with” has AIDS.
Since I’ve become a known homosexual, and being the son of a guard, the officers are still not content with their pound of flesh! They hound me endlessly. Although no officer has done more than push me around (I assume because of AIDS), they have sexually abused me and put me in the “arena.”
They also plague me with official reprisal. I’ve been forced to stick my fingers and other objects in my anus. I’ve been forced to pull down my pants and bend over while singing “Happy Birthday” to a guard. I’ve been forced to put bikini briefs over my face in front of the whole wing. I’ve been forced to mop the wing rows without clothes on in front of other prisoners. I’ve been forced to give oral and anal sex to other prisoners.
Official reprisal is the most common form of abuse used at FSP. An officer can frame a prisoner with a disciplinary report. And, with the use of the prison kangaroo court, can easily get away with it every time. But it’s not just a matter of being in confinement for thirty days. It’s facing being in a CM cell for years!
CM is like total deprivation of living. You have a bed, toilet, sink, toiletries, writing material, limited, censored books/publications, and nothing else. You shower only three times per week for five minutes, you get an hour outside in a dog cage per week.
You receive non-contact visits from your family every few months for two hours …even if your family must drive six hours just to see you! And you get a very limited medical/psychological care.
I’ve been on CM for fourteen months this time, being reviewed for status change every 6 months. My last review was in June and I was told to stay out of trouble and they would progress me at my next review.
A few days later, an officer framed me with a disciplinary report (DR). That DR not only put me in confinement for sixty days, it also ruined my chance of status change in six months. A whole year of my life has been ruined and wasted due to the sadistic intent of a vindictive guard.
This same officer wrote the DR which got me put on CM fourteen months ago. This same officer made me mop the rows with no clothes on. This same officer is from my hometown. This same officer was in the juvenile detention center the same time I was for stealing people’s cars. This same officer had a fight with me in a parking lot back home.
These officers would have you believe we are far worse than we are. They promote public disinformation based on miles of falsified DR’s. An investigation should be conducted of the DR infractions for the past ten years. Not just the infraction, but the actual reports. Infraction titles are misleading.
Take a DR for possession of contraband and what do you picture? Drugs, weapons, etc.? In reality, one too many bars of soap or a single cigarette for a CM prisoner is deemed “contraband.” That is what each and every contraband DR is about.
What about “unauthorized area?” Makes you picture a prisoner up on the roof, right? Wrong. Let’s try something no more drastic than being at the door of another prisoner’s cell while you talk to him.
I am in prison for a serious crime and I’ve come to terms with the consequences of what I’ve done. Well, what have I done in 10 years? Made a lot of mistakes, I’m sure. But I turned from my destructive lifestyle and I’ve grown a lot inwardly. I’ve educated myself. Improved my family situation.
But other than that, my life has stagnated. I’ll climb no mountains or sail any seas. Most likely I’ll be beat to death or die of AIDS in a CM cell at FSP. I’ll gladly give my life today in exchange for a life that has been lost for such foolishness.
The biggest problem in corrections is the officers’ inability to discern what his job/priorities really are. My punishment for my crime is my imprisonment. The job of the officer is to ensure I do my imprisonment in a safe environment…the job of the officer is not to punish me, yet so many of them believe that is their only purpose in life.
However, there are officers who know how to perform their duties, and I’ve learned my appreciation of them through my mother.
I have a taped interview to the investigators dispatched from Tallahassee a week ago, and I was cut short. The interview was terminated even though I had stated on tape that I had a lot more to say and that I’d consent to a polygraph. They don’t want these problems. They want to sweep things under the rug. If I don’t have a cracked scull, or caved in rib cage, or have boot prints all over my body, the investigators from Tallahassee just don’t want to know about it. “Your life is not in danger, Mr. Moskowitz. Things will change here.”
And as I’m being escorted back to my cell, it is 4PM shift change. The hallway is filled with officers going home and coming to work. “Where’d he just come from?” one of them asks the officer with me. “From talking with the boys from Tallahassee,” was the reply. I see the knowing looks and pure hatred in many faces. I glimpse the officer from my hometown, see the fire in his eyes that promise me pain, and I quickly avert my eyes to the ground.
“…Your life is not in danger..things will change here,” and I wonder for how long? As fear grips me, I try in vain to wallow it down. How long will I be allowed to breathe? How long will my mother still have her son? My life is in danger at FSP, and I want the public to know this. A place like FSP could not exist, could not do such things without the public’s support.
The opposite of compassion is not hatred, it’s indifference.
Grace Moskowitz: Writing and Art 