Reginald Blanton,texas Deathrow Information Packet

HELP TO SAVE REGINALD BLANTON’S LIFE Texas DeathRow

Execution Date set for October 27th 2009 ****EXECUTION DATE SET FOR OCTOBER 27TH 2009****

www.myspace.com/freereggieb http://reginaldblanton.ning.com

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CONTENTS 1. Interview with Reg, By the Abolition Movement. 2. The Carepackage (written by Reginald Blanton) 3.

Contradicting Blanton)

Justice(written

by

Reginald

4. Statement, about Judge Sharon Keller. 5.

The weeds that Bind (written by Reginald Blanton)

6. Whats to be done. 7.

Death Salivates (statement Reg wrote when he found out about his execution date. (july 2009) and Poem “Wounded” (written by Reginald Blanton)

8. Photo Gallery 9. Contact Details.

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*** Please note *** Reginald has been issued a Date of Execution for OCTOBER 27, 2009!!! Reginald's Legal Info The following will highlight Reginald's struggle throughout his appeals to be represented by the lawyers appointed him by appellant courts. These copies of Reginald's filings demonstrate how appellants (i.e. Death Row Prisoners) are virtually voiceless and invisible; taken advantage of by a system supposedly designed to protect their constitutional rights. Here is something different; something despairing; something criminal...

INTERVIEW WITH REGINALD BLANTON By DEE FROM THE ABOLITION MOVEMENT (2008) When I first received a letter from Reggie in December, he said to me "You know what makes no sense at all? My having almost all my clothes on, I mean all the clothes I own, including head covering and an ugly green jacket, just to stay warm in my cage. I'm dressed as if I were outside." Reggie is a fighter, a fighter for human rights and member of DRIVE, an online death row organization that uses peaceful measures to fight against prison abuse, and injustices. Listed on the DRIVE site are numerous articles and poetry Reggie has written. Reggie was one of the participants of the Texas Death Row Hunger strike in which several inmates protested the conditions on the Polunsky death row unit in Livingston Texas by going on a hunger strike. Here is my interview with Reggie, from his death row cell, he speaks about his case, about his friend who he was accused of murdering, and shows how he is innocent. Reggie,can you please give us a bio of yourself?

I was born blue behind my twin brother, Robert, in an Oakland California hospital. My dad retired from the Navy and we moved to Texas, to be closer to my mama’s side of the family, while getting away from California's earthquakes 3

and rapidly growing gang culture. For 11 years I grew up in a household possessed by dad's alcoholism, and because dad would quit his jobs a lot, we had to move a lot. A new kid in the neighborhoods we moved to, I had to fight a lot, not necessarily to fit in, but to be left alone. Though initially fighting was something I didn't like to do, I had to eventually adapt to its norms. Anyway early one morning mama rounded up my sister, brother, me and as much of our belongings we could fit into her bronco and moved us to an apartment she already had waiting, divorcing herself from dad, the fights, and from what alcoholism was doing to our lives. However my relationship with mama was shattered by what I felt was stress-relieving, overkilling whippings she gave me. I held them against mama just as I did the divorce. Mama and I began arguing just as she and dad did. I would leave the house to either get into a fight at school, or on my way home from school, then again once I got home with mama. So when it came time to deciding whose rules I would live by, mama's or the subculture, both of which were diametrically opposed to one another, I chose the latter especially since the family I identified with was outside mama's house. A family I identified with because we were all largely rebelling with anger against something we didn't understand. So living as one of them, I became one of them, a locc'd out crip” Gangbanging and criminalism was the subculture norms, norms that led to my incarceration several times for non-felony crimes. After going to T. Y. C. (Texas Youth Commission), when I was 16, by the time I got out at 18, something about me changed. I wasn't changed by their so called "resocialization" program, but because I was disgusted with being caught up in the system, and the subculture that had me enslaved to it. Interesting enough, when I said "it" I meant both the "system," that is, the juvenile system as well as the subculture, both of which should be seen as part of the same body. At the age of 16 I was already in the 10th grade. When I was released, if that is the appropriate word, from T. Y. C. I had my GED. I had intentions of taking T. Y. C. up on their offer of 2-years of free college education to become a licensed vocational nurse, but my parole officer John Rubulcava, refused to do the necessary paper work to make it happen. In what I felt was a dire attempt to save my life, which meant getting away from my parole officer who seemed more concerned with violating my parole by forcing me to work full time while reporting and doing more community service than he was allowed to give me each week all by city bus, then writing me up if I was late, I tried to get him to authorize, as they had done for another parolee, for me to take the A. S. V. A. B. after which if I passed, I would have been released from parole and into the hands of the military. But he flat out refused to even do this. So I took him to his supervisor who begged me to give him a chance, and I did. Then a week or so later, I was being snatched away from my girlfriend and her 4 year old son whom I wanted to adopt, for the Capital murder of a friend of mine. Your currently on Texas Death Row, What was your conviction and how long have you been on The row.

I've been on death row now for 8 years which can only be understood as lifetimes of incarnations. As for what I was convicted of, you are speaking of a different type of conviction that I only hope leaves people feeling convicted that the Judicial system, at least here in Texas, is broken. My brother Robert and his 4

girlfriend Latoya arrived unexpected at my apartment, to cruise around and visit family and friends. With nothing to do, I left with them. Of the family and friends we visited with, Carlos Garza was one of them, or at least we tried to visit him. Here is where things get difficult to discuss. When we left from Carlos's apartment after getting no response, we went to the other side of town to see some other friends. On our way to our respective homes, I asked my brother to stop by the pawn shop so I could pawn some jewelry. It was a last minute decision on my part. What makes this difficult to talk about is the fact that the jewelry had previously belonged to Carlos. So this alone is supposed to infer my guilt. And, superficially, it would seem questionable. But while we were on the East side, the particular side of town we were leaving from before we stopped by the pawn shop, somebody was kicking in Carlos's door, killing him. Carlos and I had always traded or rolled dice for jewelry we both wore. We always had a lot of jewelry that was expendable to the both of us. Besides I had been in a cleaning up process. I had moved in with my girlfriend and changed my job to be closer to our apartment. I had told her that after I sold the rest of my marijuana, I wasn't going to sell drugs anymore. I had already been pawning my jewelry, not because I needed money but because I was slowly cleaning myself up. The District Attorney asked the question, which I couldn't answer because my trial attorneys wouldn't let me testify, why I had gone all the way to the other side of town to pawn jewelry when there were pawn shops in the vicinity of where Carlos lived. If I had testified I would have explained that I didn't "go all the way to the other side of town to pawn jewelry."The friends and my Dad we attempted to visit, who all lived in the same neighborhood as Carlos, was already on "the other side of town" from where my brother and I lived. We were just cruising, and seeing friends. The DA said "the other side of town" to imply we were running from something. Secondly, we went to "the other side of town" that is, the Eastside, to see some more friends, not to pawn jewelry. Again, pawning jewelry was a last minute thought. We were there,I had some jewelry I was slowly getting rid of already, so I sold it. As for why a pawnshop on the Eastside instead of where Carlos lived? Not only wasn't I thinking about pawning anything, even if I had, a week or so prior when I attempted to pawn some jewelry at pawn shops in that area, they refused to give me anything close to the jewelry's value.My dad who had always pawned things, even warned me not to do business with the pawn shops in that area. But this is not it. Two and a half months before Carlos's murder, his girlfriend took some pictures of Carlos and me together with some other friends. In these pictures, not only did he have on some of my jewelry, but I had on the very same jewelry I was pawning. There were also pictures of another mutual friend of ours wearing some of the same jewelry, which he had gotten from me. These pictures were admitted into evidence at trial. Furthermore, Carlos's girlfriend who took these pictures,and the mutual friend wearing the jewellery I had given to him both testified at trial that the jewelry did belong to me, and that Carlos and I had traded jewelry in the past. What does this all mean?. That anybody that has something that previously belonged to their friend better not hope that friend is murdered? That's ridiculous! The real question is why was all this evidence overlooked? The pawnshop was a rare incident of coincidence. Carlos was my friend. Kill him for jewelry? Cheap jewelry? If I was 5

hard up for money like that, why didn't I take any of that money that was said to be just laying around his apartment? Then, why my friend instead of a stranger? It doesn't make sense. Besides, I'm not petty like that. I mean, I drove a Mercedes Benz. On top of it all, I'm loyal. Carlos and his cousin knew this. I've spent my money on them and was willing to die for them. They knew this. My realness is unquestionable. And though I have done some stupid things in my ignorant years, never would I pawn something I stole. That is beyond comprehension. It's a commonly known fact that pawned items are ran through the computer to determine if they are stolen. I must emphasize we weren't the only ones who went to Carlos's apartment before his murder either. A woman that spent some time with him before his murder gave the police a description of a man with a silver 2-pac chain who threatened Carlos's life before he was found murdered in his apartment, yet the police couldn't find this man. A few days later, my brother calls me to tell me homicide detectives called him and wanted to talk with him. He said that he was "going to see that they are talking about." I found out at trial what happened. Robert and his girlfriend had been arguing outside my Dad's trailer, down the street from Carlos’s apartment. The manager of the trailer park called the police. When a police officer arrived, he tried to arrest Robert's girlfriend Latoya and was assaulted by her. Latoya wasn't only charged with assault on a public servant, but for failure to ID and was also arrested for outstanding warrants. Another police officer arrived and transferred Latoya to his patrol car, then drove across the street from the trailer park to a church parking lot. where the investigator that was investigating Carlos's death walked over and told the police officer to take Latoya to homicide. She was in a vulnerable position and connected to the "Blanton Boys”. When she arrived to the homicide office, the detectives force-fed her information on how they thought Carlos was murdered and told her if she didn't sign a statement against either my brother or me, they were going to lock her up for Capital murder. How does this play in the mind of a young pregnant women? So she signed the statement typed by the detectives, placing me as Carlos' murderer, and get this, while comparing me to 2-pac in an attempt to connect me with the silver chain worn by the man they couldn't find, a man that came out in trial to be somebody else. On top of it all, after Latoya was coerced to sign the statement, she was released from the homicide office. She never saw a jail cell, and all her charges were dropped immediately. When we questioned the arresting officer during trial about what happened to Latoya's charges of assault on a public servant, failure to ID, and all her outstanding warrants, he said "I don't know". .."You don't know"? No, they know, and now so does the people. The homicide detectives strategically used her to further coerce my brother, whom they called and merely asked to come to their office. And though Robert thought it was just a matter of going there, after he got there, they not only threatened to lock him up on Capital murder charges if he didn't sign a statement against me, but they threatened to lock up his pregnant girlfriend. He testified at trial that he was scared and signed the statement to get out of there. He said he didn't fathom the nightmare his signature would lead to. This nightmare has ruined my relationship with my twin brother for many reasons I feel are important to emphasize, as they are 6

revelatory of the deleterious effects this vicious cycle of death called Capital punishment has beyond the condemned. Before trial Robert had visited with me a few times. And though the telephones were monitored, the district attorney tried to persuade the jury to believe I was using these monitored visits to persuade my brother to lie for me. Over the years we ended up growing apart as opposed to witnessing each others individual growth. So, in the few times we've communicated over the past several years. it has been disconcerting to not find the level of communication we expected, we once shared. You see what I'm saying? Now, because of this traumatizing experience, though my brother wants to share emotions with me he has been holding inside, he's afraid that doing so might be misconstrued by the courts as inference of my guilt. But I can imagine what my brother feels, he most likely feels that he let me down by allowing these detectives to manipulate him against me, his twin, his heart, his soul, and for something I didn't do. But I need him to understand that my love for him is one that can't be devoured by this predatory system, one that was only concerned with using him. The other day in utter disgust, I finally threw away the only letter I had from my brother, one in which he was fighting to express emotions, another part of him was fighting to conceal. And as I say this, I feel like puking. Never, I mean never, has he told me he wanted to kill himself except for in that letter. I feel like I've lost my brother. My mama and step-pops has even said he's not the same. And just a couple of months ago, his girlfriend, a new girlfriend, searched me out and left a message on my Myspace page maintained for me by a friend, concerned about my brother. Here's a women I've never met telling me that all my brother does is talk about me. She was also trying to find out the significance of the number 7 because it was a number my brother was distraught over. I told her my brother thought as I did, that I was going to be murdered by the state last year, 2007. She said he's holding something inside that is tearing him apart and that she is losing her boyfriend. This death penalty thing is a Frankenstein. A living death that destroys lives. There is no healing in it. None! We are only killing ourselves spiritually, morally, and physically, by letting it go on it's rampage. Well, anyway, as we prepared for trial the DAs offered me a capital murder life sentence if I didn't force them to spend money by taking my case to trial where they would seek death against me. However, when I went back to court for an evidentiary hearing concerning my state habeas appeal on my wrongful conviction, when my appellant attorney, Scott Sullivan, asked the district attorney that tried my case, Tamura Butler, to take the stand, I found it peculiar that when she was asked if she offered me a plea-deal she lied, saying she hadn't and that doing such wasn't the practice in the D.As office. Only later, after reading Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall's opinion in Furman Vs. Georgia, the 1972 case on which the death penalty was abolished, I realized why Tamura Butler had lied. You see, Thurgood Marshall said, DAs can't claim the death penalty as a deterrent to crime if they use it to manipulate defendants to plea for a lesser offense. What I'm trying to say is how can they claim that I'm such a "severe threat to society" that I need to be killed by lethal chemicals that they cannot even use on animals, after offering to keep me alive if I didn't take them to trial? Hypocritical. 7

I know I'm being a bit long winded, but it is vital that the people are made aware of how carefully constructed my case and conviction was. When we paneled the venire members, that is, called the 100 people from which we were going to compose our jury to come into the courtroom, after Tamura Butler made a comment to my attorney about a black juror being the sole "holdout" juror in a previous trial, which led to a mistrial, she called for a jury shuffle, shuffling all the African American venire-members who were seated in the front of the courtroom, to the back. This was her first attempt to keep African Americans off my jury. She was hoping that we would amass a jury before interviewing them in a process called voir dire. And listen to that, "them." Here it is 2008 and we are still dealing with the "them" phenomenon. Well, we fought our way through interviewing each venire member until we finally made it to our first African African venire member. Yet, minus one, the district attorney only ended up using her peremptory challenges or strikes, which the defense gets the same number of, to exclude the rest of the African Americans from serving on a jury. In light of the comment Tamura Butler made about the holdout African American jury and her jury shuffle, my court appointed attorneys raised a "Batson" claim, requiring her to give "race neutral" reasons for using peremptory strikes, which may be used to strike a venire member for any reason except race or religion Little surprise Tamura Butler's reasons were deemed "race-neutral" by the presiding judge, Juanita Vasquez-Gardner. During my appeal, after examining the transcripts of the interviews of each venire member it was revealed that Tamura Butler asked questions differently toward those that became jury members than she had the African Americans she kept off. Whereas she educated the former as to the application of the law, she left the latter to their own misconceptions as to justify excluding them from serving on my jury based on their so-called inability to apply the appropriate law. Then when we, my trial attorney, educated them of the law and they said that they could apply it accordingly, Tamura Butler claimed "vacillation," swaying opinion, as her race-neutral reason for striking African Americans from serving on my jury. A classic example of using a persons ignorance against them. Going back to my State Habeas Corpus evidentiary hearing, after Tamura Butler took the stand, my attorney had also asked her what her reasons were for her jury shuffle. She said that she wanted to move to the back venire members that were defense attorneys, social workers, and teachers, while moving to the front those with ties to law enforcement. However in the first 20 venire members, where 3 of the 5 African Americans on the panel sat, there was only one teacher and nobody with any of. the occupations she said she was trying to shuffle to the back of the courtroom. The Federal Court Judge recently ruled in my case that the jury shuffle was "racially motivated" and that Tamura Butler's race neutral reason for her peremptory strike against one African American was "more rationalization than rationale." Yet contradicting himself, the Federal Judge Orlando Garcia, unbelievably denied my claim that this prosecutor, Tamura Butler racially excluded African Americans from serving on my jury. Yet this is not, the extent of Tamura Butler's prosecutorial misconduct. The 8

Northwestern University School of Law, Center on Wrongful Convictions, compiled a study called "The Snitch System" in which they reveal that the first wrongful conviction involved a "snitch." The study also revealed that of the 111 exonerated from death row, about half, 45.9% involved snitches. What is this about? Every study I've read most cases I've read, as well as most stories I've heard from people on death row right now had a "snitch" mostly "jailhousesnitches" involved in their convictions. When I was going to trial my lawyer asked me if I knew a Frank Trujiilo. I told him that the the name wasn't recognizable. My lawyer told me this person knew me and would be testifying against me. One day after going back to the county jail from trial, I saw this one prisoner in the legal booths in booking I had been locked up around. I threw my head back to say "what"s up" to him, you know, just to say hello. He faintly moved his head to say "what's up" back, but his expression struck me. It was like he was either shocked or didn't recognize me. I just kept on stepping to my destination. Then came the day during trial when this Frank Trujiilo was supposed to testify against me. Into the courtroom walked the same person I had said "what's up" to that day I came back from court. I was beyond words. On that stand he told one lie after another. He said that we were friends in the freeworld though I didn't meet him until I was locked up in the county 6 for this crime. He said that I use to give him drugs "under the table" at this motel he supposedly worked at to pay for the room. He even said that I came to the motel one day trying to sell him a gun of the same caliber used to murder Carlos. When I was being booked for Carlos’ murder I was thrown into a small room with about 15 people sitting around me. Everybody was asking everybody what they were in for." When I was asked I said "for the Capital Murder of my friend." When somebody else asked if I did it I emphatically said "hell nah, But this jailhouse snitch Frank Trujillo who was also present in this room which is when I first met him, said on the stand that I had bragged about killing Carlos in front of all these strangers. I was enraged. But what could I do about it? I wanted to curse him out but that would have only made me look worse. On top of it all my trial lawyers had me strapped in a testifying straitjacket. This trial is the reason why I now have high-blood pressure. Another day when I came to my lynching of a trial, as I walked past the one-man holding cells behind the courtroom, I passed one cell where Tamura Butler a pretty prosecutor I might add, sat next to this same jailhouse snitch, knee to knee, talking to him. When they saw me they sort of stared at me shocked, like I caught them doing what I thought as I walked off: Tamura Butler using her sex-appeal to further coax Frank Trujillo to stay the course in their plot to kill me. During my appeal I asked my court-appointed federal attorney what had happened to this jailhouse snitch. He said though he had several felonies pending in several states, after my wrongful conviction, all he received was 1-year, time served..He went home. Judge Paul J. Kelly Jr. said "If justice is perverted when a criminal defendant seeks to buy testimony from a witness it is no less perverted when the Government does so."Where does it all stop? Little wonder why the majority of brothers here on Texas' death row subsist in various levels of despair. Here recently, we just lost another brother to suicide. That's some 4 suicides in about as many years. It's enough to be urged by an imate force toward selfpreservation, only to have your hands tied as you watch your own murder approach you; let alone to be encaged falsely under sensory-depriving 9

conditions with a case like mine, as many brothers have; a case of endless corruption, too much to begin breaking down. So what does most of these brothers do? They sit silenced, until they are silently murdered by the state, If they don’t silently kill themselves. Are You Innocent?

As for your question of "innocence" I cringe at that word. What does it mean? Obviously it has lost meaning to most Americans, or more specifically, citizens of Texas since they didn't demand abolition or at the bare minimum, a moratorium on the death penalty when this Lone Star State killed Todd Willingham, Gary Graham, Francis Newton, Justin Fuller, and lord knows who else that was also innocent. I sort of feel ashamed of that word "innocence." Probably because I'm ashamed of being here. I don't know how else to explain how that word makes me feel. It's not enough to be innocent here in America. You either better have DNA evidence or a video of you at another location at the precise moment of the crime, to prove your innocence. What does this mean for people with a messy case like mine? Constant refusals from law firms I've contacted to help me? Certainly everybody doesn't have cases where there were DNA evidence. This whole system will make you feel guilty without really knowing why. I think innocence needs to be redefined because we are dealing with a situation that goes beyond the black and white lines of guilt and innocence which, when we are talking about capital punishment, respectively means life in prison or a death sentence and freedom. What 1 mean is, what if I was indeed guilty? Does this take away from the man I have finally become? My redemption? Anybody who is keen enough to see who I really am through my words, let alone my activism, knows the ghettos and hoods need people like me as much as they did Tookie Williams, to encourage growth and development. Texas, if not the whole American Judicial System, has a policy of condemnation that never takes into consideration that change is an inherent part of human nature. I mean, Texas' prison industrial complex is less concerned with true rehabilitation, and more with mere imprisonment. This says it all. I guess I will say that I've seen too many brothers around here who admit that they were guilty for their crimes but it was clear that they were changed men that could change the communities that they came from. yet their stories were poisoned and their value died on that gurney with a needle in its arm. So what is innocence? Do you feel that your lifestyle and gang association had anything to do with your false conviction?

I absolutely do. They placed a spotlight on me. Police officers referring to my brother and I as the "Blanton Boys" or "Blanton Twins"? That says a lot. It's one of the reasons why I was cleaning up my look. I was even in the process of downgrading my car from a Mercedes to something more practical. These things made me a target. Then when you get in the courtroom and you have golds in your mouth, Varsace glasses, tattoos, and you are a member of the "notorious CRIPS" with a criminal history? It doesn't matter how petty that criminal history is. It doesn't matter that you don't "gangbang.". Skilled prosecutors will scare 10

the average juror into believing you are dangerous. I guess the real question is how do you become dangerous just because you have these things? Perhaps because when these images are arranged right, they become symbols that tap into and dances with those misconceptions that dwell in the subconscious of each juror.

Do you feel you were railroaded? Why?

I do feel I was railroaded and not only because of what I've already said, but consider this: Carlos' apartment door was kicked in. Detectives were able to take a clear close-up picture of the tread-print left on the door. The shoes I wore the entire day of Carlos' murder was taken by police to be examined for bloodsplatter and anything else that would link me to his murder. Of course they didn't find anything. However, I told my trial lawyer, Anthony Cantrell, to get these shoes to show the jury that the 12-inch shoe-print on Carlos' door wasn't mine. These shoes are a size 9. But my own attorney grilled me about it, saying "Okay, okay, we're going to get them right now!" as if I was lying and to see if I would freeze up. Needless to say, he never got the shoes. Railroaded? I presented to my State Habeas Corpus attorney, Scott Sullivan, several vital claims for him to include in the appeal he was supposedly filing for me, one of which was about my shoes not matching the shoe-print on the door. It was especially important that he included all the claims possible at this particular stage of my appeal because if he didn't whichever claims he left out would be lost forever, barred from ever being raised in later appeals. Different character, same plot. Mr. Sullivan refused to raise these innocent claims in my appeal. So I compiled all the carbon-copies of letters I sent him, pleading to him to file my claims, and went to the court with it all showing Judge Juanita Vasquez-Gardner, of the 399th District court in San Antonio, how my own attorney refused to represent my legal interest. But she utterly ignored what I sent to her certified mail. So, then I went to the State Bar of Texas about what Scott Sullivan had done to my appeal but they felt he had not committed any professional misconduct and referred me back to Juanita Vasquez-Gardner's court. I was ignored and swept under the rug with all the other silenced. When my Federal attorney attempted to file these claims to the Federal court, the Federal judge said the claims were procedurally barred from being heard without even considering how I diligently sought to have my legal interest represented, only to be ignored by my state habeas attorney, the judge over my State Habeas Corpus appeal, who was also my trial judge, and even the State Bar of Texas, who is supposed to make sure that lawyers do their jobs. This stuff makes me sick. What stage is your appeals at? (as of 2008)

My appeal was denied by the 5th circuit court of appeals. My last resort, at least judicially, will be the Supreme Court. How do you spend your time on Death Row?

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I try to divide my day into 8-hours of rest, 8 hours of self-reflection, research, and 8-hours of writing. Because I'm largely at war with Maya, the Sanskrit term for illusion, I'm fighting my self-illusions, seeking to realize my Highest self. I have found this is the only way I'm able to find that space inside the pyramid of my being imperturbable by the harmonious-chaos that surrounds me. From this place I find my inner-strength which I hope shines forth as inspiration for all these brothers here on the row. From this place I find the strength to delve into intense studies, searching for keys, keys that may unlock within me insights, solutions to the problems that plague us within these walls, and the us outside these wails; that is, our brothers and sisters in freeworld society. This is why I have embraced the name Omari Huduma, which is Swahili for "The Highest Service." Not only do I strive to realize omari; the highest, that is, my highest self, but I dedicate my life to the upliftment of my sisters and brothers as the highest huduma, that is, service I have to give. Together with my cadre of brothers, Christopher Young, Gabriel Gonzalez, Robert Will, and Kenneth Foster, who is now serving a life sentence, we have breathed life into a movement we call D.R.I.V.E.: Death Row Inner-Communalist Vanguard Engagement. We are fighting for the abolition of the Death Penalty and as humane living conditions as possible as long as we must be confined under an inhumane sentence of death. We're fighting by, not only educating the public of the atrocious and far-reaching nature cf the Death Penalty, but by hopefully being representative of the hope and human dignity that still exist within these walls of death. We have taken Direct Action within these walls of death nonviolently protesting these sensory-depriving conditions and for better treatment by this administration. We dedicate a lot of time toward helping brothers within these wails overcome their self-illusions, whether it be racism or misogyny, while trying to get them to see that they shouldn't just give themselves to a manmade demise as their fate because they still have worth, one worth fighting for. We are literally fighting from the inside out in every sense. What are your feelings about the death sentence?

It's counter-justice. It doesn't promote healing with the victims' family; it creates extended victims with the prisoners' family; it ignores the humanity of the condemned; it hardens the hearts of those that in some way or some form promotes the process leading up to the condemned's state sanctioned murder; and it takes not only tax-dollars away from rehabilitation programs badly needed but it takes the lives of the condemned, who could very well promote the rehabilitation of others that will identify more with them than anybody else. The death penalty is racially inclined do you see this as a form of genocide

You know genocide is defined as the systematic destruction of a racial, political, or cultural group. Though the death penalty is racially inclined, if racism wasn't a factor, it would be harder for District Attorneys to secure convictions, we would still be speaking of a systematic destruction via the Judicial Persecution System of a cultural group or as I would rather say those 12

largely from the subculture. And the bottom line will always be the bottom class. If brothers and sisters on death row could afford a topnotch defense team, they would not be on death row. If we look at those that made it off death row, it was largely one of two factors that played a role in it: They either had a law firm or innocence project fighting for their lives, or a mass grassroots movement. What abuses have you and others endured at the Polunsky Death Row Unit?

I watched as a neighbor of mine, Kenneth Clark, died in his cage because medical refused to help him. Geronimo Gutierrez is suffering from a painful medical condition and the medication he is being given is not taking away his pain. Michael Sigala's sinus condition has gotten so bad that fluid has built up in one of his ears to the point that he has lost all his hearing in that ear, and the medication provided to him is not enough. Medical has a notorious unwritten policy of only being concerned about a death row prisoners' health only if their lives are in immediate jeopardy. As long as we are alive until the state kills us, they have served their purpose. Our grievance system is broken. Generally, grievances either come up missing or we get run-around responses to them. Some of the food they dish us is uneatable. Some brothers who are suffering from mental illnesses are mistreated by officers who don't know how to deal with them. Officers refuse to feed or recreate some of them. As for my brothers in the DRIVE movement, as a result of our nonviolent protest, we have been subjected to excessive uses of force. We have been denied food, recreation, and showers. We have had all our property taken away from us against policy. We've had our mail tampered with or sometimes thrown away. There was even one occasion where I was forced I mean carried into a cage smeared in feces and urine. HOW CAN THE PUBLIC HELP YOU?

I need an attorney that will aggressively fight for my life as if it were their own in the Supreme Court should my 5th circuit appeal get denied. This attorney may just want to work in conjunction with my Federal attorney. This attorney needs to be knowledgeable in the law as it pertains to procedural default. Likewise, if my case is reversed, I will need an attorney to aggressively represent me at another trial. My plight needs as much media exposure as possible specifically here in Texas not only emphasizing the injustices in a wrongful conviction, but also my genesis into manhood, my self-evolution, my redemption, in spite of charges that I would never amount to anything. I need people to relentlessly pursue,firstly, influential people that are against the Death Penalty such as senator Rodney Ellis, Green Party's presidential candidate and former Georgia senator, Cynthia McKinney, or Green Party presidential candidate from San Antonio, Cate Swift and those like them to persuade them to use their influence to persuade the Texas State Bar to accept and entertain the grievance I'm trying to file against Scott Sullivan for refusing to represent me; since the first grievance I attempted to file against him was classified as an "inquiry" and dismissed. We need pressure on the Texas State Bar to do the right thing. This grievance can be found on my myspace page. We also need these influential people to persuade others like them to stand with them in their demand for true justice in my case. I need people to use my 13

plight as a means to further build the grassroots movement to abolish the Death Penalty. I need people especially here in Texas and if they are not in Texas to persuade people they may know here in Texas to be willing to take to the streets; to be my voice and the voice for the voiceless; to distribute literature on my plight everywhere they go. Until someone enlightens me of a more viable approach this is the only way I believe we can level this imbalanced scale of socalled justice. At this time if there is anything you would like to add to the interview please do so.

I need to say this to Carlos' Mama: Ma'am if that was you staring at me when my defense attorneys told me to sit facing those seated in the courtroom, if you are wondering what I tried to say to you I said "I didn't do it." I can't find the words to encase what I feel about the pain you have gone through. Your loss is mine. Though I don't know what you still feel I will say I hurt not only because of all that has grown out of Carlos murder but every time the state of Texas kills one of my brothers, And their guilt or innocence doesn't affect one way or another this pain I feel. Just as I believe if Carlos was ever sent to death row and the state of Texas killed him, whether he was guilty or not wouldn't affect one way or another the pain that you would feel. The more important thing is I offer all the love of my being to you and your family. I mean all the love of my being, everything I am. And Ms. Garza please let me say also I would like for you to consider meeting my Mama. Because I believe you will see yourself in her as well as her pain. May love, all our love, heal your wounds. I fight so mothers like yourself, and family members for that matter, wont have these wounds. Dee, thank you from the depths of my soul for giving me this opportunity. Being able to spill all these things from my cup has done something to me.

*** Reginald needs your help NOW! ***

The Care Package By Reginald Blanton When I came to Murder Row in 2001, I generally looked at it no differently than other places populated with subculturalist- - I would be "tested" and would have to fight hard, physically, to prove I deserved to be left alone; not "alone" in what district prosecutors would love to interpret in an "anti-social" manner. No! I'm too much of a peoples-person for that. I mean "alone" in the sense of not having to be placed in a position where I would have to physically prove myself to ignorant people. That's what I mean. Now I can't say these thoughts were not heightened by the fact that these were DEATH ROW prisoners; or should I say, what I thought would be a more aggressive environment since these were "Death Row" prisoners. The "worst of the worst" right?

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So when I arrived to the section of the pod where they planned to entomb me - - because they weren't just placing me in a cell unless we mean "cell" as in the myriad cells that make up life—that make up this Living-Death Penalty- -, I immediately noticed the sudden silence which affected the whole atmosphere. It was a cold and wet silence; a gray, drizzling-cold I could feel inside my being. It was so dense, so thick, so real, I was almost certain I left mud-prints with each slushing-step I took deeper into this unknown. I was then entombed, cage-door slammed shut with a metallic shriek reverberating through the floors, walls, and air; or maybe it was the scream of souls condemned to the belly of this beast, rattled by the reminder… "Ti-ti…ti-ti…ti-ti-ti…ti-ti," ("ti" as in tick) is what I heard nearby. It sounded like somebody shadow-boxing in their cage—they were getting ready for me; getting ready to fight me! My heart was a climaxing afrikan drum. "Ti-ti-ti…ti-ti…ti-ti-ti." They were practicing what combinations they were going to use on me. I tried to control my breathing. I rolled up the pants-legs to my jumpsuit and stuffed them inside my socks, standard procedure. I paced my tomb-of-a-cage. I stretched. I even started to shadow-box. If it was going down, it was going down! I told myself, "You can't do anything but accept an 'ass-whuppin'." If that's what I had coming. I wondered how it was "going down." Were we allowed group recreation? Were one of them cool with the guard and the guard was going to "roll" my cage door so they could try me? What? Suddenly somebody hollered at me wanting to know my name. He told me his name was "South Park," and asked if I needed anything. I told him I needed something to drink out of, but that was it. Too many times have I seen things "given" with all sorts of tangled-strings attached. Not me! I was new, but not that new. I wasn't going to get caught-up in that web. South Park told me he and several other brothers were going to put together a "care-package" for me. I refused South Park's offer again. And though I was hollering from one-row to two-row where South Park was entombed, he understood why I was refusing anything else, and explained that the giving of this care-package to "drive-ups," new prisoners, was part of this death row culture. We exchanged "right-on's" and I awaited the package they prepared for me. "Ti-ti…ti-ti-ti." Yeah, and somebody else was also preparing for me. Big Tank, one of the brothers from two-row, hollered down to my neighbor, PNut, to help him get the care-package to me. I was amazed by what I observed. Big Tank threw something from the bottom of his cage, over two-row's run, and onto one-row with a home-made line connected to it. P-Nut slid out on the run a makeshift pole with small hooks on the end fashioned out of paperclips, hooked Big Tank's line, then pulled it all in by the line connected to his pole. This is called "fishing." It's one of the few means brothers have to communicate with 15

each other during the 23-hours spent each day in solitary confinement; if we can call this communication. P-Nut connected his line to Big Tank's line, and as they ran line packages of food tied to the line descended from two-row. Though these brothers were using this fishing system to show me love, if caught, they could have been written up, sent to lockup, with the care-package confiscated or eaten by the confiscating officers. "Ti..ti…ti-ti-ti…ti-ti". As P-Nut passed the care-package to me on his line, item after item (soups, pastries, and chips), I thought about how long-winded this shadow-boxer was, and how out of shape I was. By the end of the day, I had to laugh at myself; though, after thinking about it, it's not funny at all. After observing, with my ears, my surroundings, I realized the only boxing that was going on was finger-boxing. My so-called opponent wasn't blowing-out air with each of his punches as I imagined him. He was finger-boxing the keys to his old typewriter. What would have ordinarily been the sharp "icking“ sound in the tick-tick-ticking from the hammer striking the print-wheel was dullen away by the wear-and-tear of so many years of typing. My reality had been distorted by the stigma of past experiences with the system; a system that has equally stigmatized the perceptions of the Americans by distorting the Death Penalty question. I wasn't surrounded by a "special" pack of vicious, cold-blooded murderers deserving of the "highest" security measures (which amount to sensory-deprivation) until their time of sterilization ("execution"). While the overwhelming majority of Death Row prisoners await Death for crimes others in General Population (prison) will never die for, the brothers I had met were no different than most people I've ever known; some of whom don't have a criminal record. The only thing "special" about them are the labels thrusted upon them, which in return, is used by death penalty supporters to disengage their sense of morality which would otherwise hinder them from supporting such a barbaric fate of human beings. This "System" not only pits human beings against their higher-selves, but it pits them against each other. It promotes imperialism, classism, sexism, racism, and ultimately ignorance, either actively, through instituting systems based on these machinations, or passively, through allowing these systems to flourish. The System thus encompasses: 1.) the injustices inflicted upon us by the State and its tentacles; 2.) those that we inflict upon each other; 3.) and those we passively allow to persist. However, a distinction must be drawn between those that perpetuate these systems as a result of the institutionalization of these systems, and those host institutions.

Reginald "P-Nut" Reeves was murdered by the state of the Killing Machine. Ronald "South Park" Howard was murdered by the state of the Killing Machine (10-6-05). Shannon "Big Tank" Thomas was murdered by the state of the Killing Machine (11-11-05). And though I want to say "May these brothers rest in the sweetest peace", know they are living through me—and many others—right 16

now, and won't be able to rest until there is rest for us all. However, these brothers, along with several others who were also systematically murdered by this Frankensteinian creation, had much more in mind when it came to this "care-package.” These brothers had pulled me into their war-room, darkened except for the square-light on the wall from their small projector. Slide-by-slide they pounded into my mind the necessity to expand my circumference of consciousness, connect with people in the free-world through the "pen-pal" program, and most of all, to stay on top of my court-appointed lawyers and appeals, It was—and remains—warfare. But these brothers were war-worn. They had lost many soldiers. They had lost many battles. They were fighting a technologically advanced "adversary"-- as the Judicial System proudly refers to itself—with merely their intellect, bodies, and spirits, when they needed aggressive, professional legal representation and media exposure. They knew their next battle(s) could very well be their last; yet they had to keep their struggle alive. They saw a glimmer of hope in me, somebody new; somebody they could live through in retrospect of past battles lost. It was as if I was the second chance they were never given. Those that had the courage and necessary intellectual capacity took a stand for their dignity by writing their court-appointed attorneys concerning claims they felt needed to be included in their appellate writ being filed in their names by their lawyers. However, their voices were drowned out by the Machinery's noise as the majority of these brothers were ignored by their lawyers, their lawyers! And many were executed, though they could have prevailed on their appeals if only their so-called attorneys didn't think they knew it all and that their own clients were nothing more than a docket number. As a matter of fact, the high systematic murder (“executions rate”) here in Texas clearly demonstrates that these attorneys would rather botch their client's appeals than to perceive their clients concerns from a two-heads-are-better-than-one perspective. All the while, the appellant courts are merely giving cursory reviews of this attorney's shoddy work, blaming the flaws in it on the prisoner instead of their inept "representation." Why were the majority of these brothers were being ignored by their state habeas attorneys. Why? Because there is a critical void in Death Row prisoners' constitutional protection at the state habeas level on down. Mind you, the state habeas corpus is our most important appeal, yet receives the least protection. The state habeas corpus is often referred to as the "Great Writ" in part because of its great importance; it is where everything the lawyer finds during a post-conviction investigation that may help their client, along with all other relevant claims, must be filed or suffer a "procedural bar" where, regardless of merit, the claims are lost forever. These brothers were being ignored because they are only guaranteed "representation" at this vital stage of their appeal, i.e. state habeas corpus, as opposed to the "effective assistance" guaranteed during trial and the automatic, but less consequential, Direct Appellate stages. As a result, we can't file "ineffective assistance of counsel" claims against our state habeas representation like we can our trial and direct appellant attorneys. Here lies the crux of our dilemma. If the state habeas attorney refuses to represent us, i.e. 17

they ignore our legal concerns, merely filing what they want, we can't write to the court complaining our representation has run amuck because we can only communicate with the courts through our shadow of a representation. Therefore, how can we communicate with the court through "representation" that ignores us? The courts have effectively undermined our most important appellatet stage, substituting it with some superficial "representation" of what it should be. When I embarked upon researching case-law, I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Those "self-help" manuals in the unit's law library wasn't much help at all. Little wonder why so many of these brothers, many of whom don't have a formal education, give up taking any part in fighting their case, merely leaving it all in the hands of their so-called representation. With time limitations on our appeals as well as restricted access to the unit's law library, we have a suffocating space of time for the necessary extensive research most of our lawyers fail or refuse to conduct. However, I couldn't see myself placing my life, utterly, in the hands of a lawyer appointed to me by the "adversarial process"; especially after hearing all the horror stories of lawyers filing one page briefs; filing writs with claims that didn't apply to their clients; and ultimately, as stated above, lawyers ignoring the very people they're suppose to be representing. This was enough motivation for me to persevere through the thicket of contradictory judicial jurisprudence, hoping to find something, anything, that could help my and everyone else's- appeals. The more case law I read, the sicker I became; not only of the type of crimes I read about, but because people, Death Row prisoners, were losing their lives to technicalities—lawyers failing to file claims a certain way, or failing to "preserve" a critical claim for later appeals. In my mind, if a person was convicted unjustly, their conviction was null and void, period. However, the courts act as gatekeepers that grant certain lawyers entrance into justice only if they know—what might as well be—code words in the form of combinations of case law citing, or have backing by powerful organizations or people. Obviously this "justice" is not based on systematic moral principles, but politics. Isn't this what most wars are about? What else would explain why the courts, the Justice System, turns a blind eye and deaf ear toward clear injustices merely because of technicalities in how or when the claims of injustice were filed? I felt spat on. These truths grabbed my conscience by the throat, jape-slapping it until I broke free…falling upon the path that would eventually lead unto my activism. All the case law I read helped me remember painful portions of my trial drama and gave me ideas how to address certain issues. I poured these ideas and issues of concern into the carbon copied letters I flooded my direct appellant attorney's office with only to find I was addressing issues that were to be raised at the following state habeas stage of my appeal. My direct appellant attorney then forwarded these letters to my state habeas attorney, Scott Sullivan. Over the course of the year Mr. Sullivan "represented" me, I sent him letter after letter reiterating claims, virtually begging him to represent my legitimate concerns, only to become another ignored victim. I felt like puking when he sent me a copy of my writ he filed in my name to the court, devoid of my voice; especially after asking him to let me peruse my state habeas corpus before he filed it. 18

When the 399th district court in San Antonio, TX, called me back on bench warrant for my state habeas corpus' evidentiary hearing, I had to bribe Mr. Sullivan to address a few key innocence claims I had been fighting –to no avail— to get him to raise. I was feeling desperate and helpless. I was somewhat relieved when he said he would finally address my forced-compromised concerns to the court during the evidentiary hearing. However when the evidentiary hearing was over with, he hadn't addressed these issues he had agreed to earlier. He only told me he would to keep me from jumping up during the evidentiary hearing to express my disdain with his representation of me. I was speechless, dumbfounded. My thoughts and words were taken hostage by the adversary. I could feel, taste my execution date. Though one part of me felt like my life was over with, the other part of me felt I had to find a way. I thought about all the people before me that had been murdered by the state as a result of this predicament. I thought of all the people that may find themselves in this same predicament if I didn't manage to help bring attention to it. This war was bigger than me. Brothers kept asking me about the status of my case; and though they didn't express it, I could feel their feeble hope. My success would be theirs. I didn't want to become another statistic; another nuclear mushroom cloud blotting out the light of their hope. I feared the fallout. It wasn't just my life I was fighting for. I became their carepackage. I immediately wrote the 399th District Court, certified mail/return receipt, about my representation's failure to represent me, enclosing with it the carbon copies of all my previously written letters to Mr. Sullivan. I asked the court to "freeze all findings of fact and conclusion [a ruling] on the habeas corpus [evidentiary] hearing… and find good cause to have a hearing on this filing to avoid placing my 5th and 14th Amendment [due process right] in jeopardy. If not, I wish to respectfully appeal your decision if possible your honor…." However, Judge Juanita Vasquez Gardner from the 399th District Court, whom presided over my trial, appointed me Mr. Sullivan, and presided over my state habeas corpus appeal, ignored everything I filed to her court. I mean, not even a word. I then went to the Court of Criminal Appeals (CCA), but they ignored me also. Finally, I went to the State Bar of Texas but they felt Mr. Sullivan was effectively representing me, then pointed me back to the 399th District Ccourt. Bombs were falling everywhere. Because of Mr. Sullivan's professional representation, all my innocenceclaims have been procedurally barred by Federal Judge Orlando Garcia from ever being heard. My quadriplegic appeal was just wheel-chaired into the notorious 5th Circuit Court, and my hope is mist in my eyes. I'm a gurney-table away from death and I remain with nothing but my heart. In fact, I'm all heart and no-body; a heart pulsating beams of love; a heart aflame for something beyond some false representation of Justice. This heart blazes heavenly warmth for those whose hearts are frozen in shock, in terror, in inaction. Powerful bombs will do that to you. Nevertheless, if the Judicial Persecution System gets to utilize their chemical warfare ("lethal injection") to burst this heart, let this explosion be for 19

change. O' Machinery of Death, your own machinations shall birth your annihilation. And the care-package has been born.

Written By Reginald Blanton Texas DeathRow

CONTRADICTING JUSTICE The Federal Judge, Orlando Garcia, DENIED my federal appeal, procedurally barring all my innocence-claims my state habeas attorney (Scott Sullivan) refused to file at the prior state habeas stage of my appeal (the federal court will not entertain any claims unless previous courts—which in my case is the state habeas court—had a chance to entertain them). The Honorable Judge Orlando Garcia ran from the underlying reason my claims were never filed to the state court by my legal representative (Scott Sullivan), refusing to address how LAW officers no remedy for appellants, like myself, diligently seeking to have critical claims filed in their own appeal but are ignored not only by their so-called legal "representative" but by the very court in which their appeal is pending. Then, as if mockingly, the Honorable Judge Garcia opined, "Unfortunately for petitioner [me] the malfeasance [wrongdoing or misconduct!] or nonfeasance of his state-court-appointed state habeas counsel does not excuse petitioner's failure to exhaust available [there are none] state habeas corpus remedies on his unexhausted fourteenth through seventeenth claims herein' (see, "Additional Claims" my federal habeas attorney attempted to file to Judge Garcia's court), before denying me federal relief, justice…. My Federal court-appointed-attorney and I were essentially arguing to Judge Garcia's court that since I would be blamed for my legalrepresentative's "wrongdoing" I have an obligation to notify the court when my so-called legal representative decides, on his own accord (outside of my assent), to not file something critical in my case, opening me to a possible procedural bar, wherewith my claims will be lost forever. However, though the Honorable Judge Garcia's procedural barring of my claims relegates our rationale to absurdity, later in his 200 pg. ruling, in justifying the denial of a completely different claim, he said, "petitioner [me] wholly failed to 20

interrogate his former state appellant counsel during his state habeas corpus proceeding regarding her reasoning for the manner in which she chose to present petitioner's Batson claim [against racial discrimination] addressing the peremptory strike of Ms. Johnson [an African American] from the jury venire on direct appeal. This court has concluded that failure precludes petitioner from establishing his state appellant counsel's performance was objectively unreasonable." Since that "failure" precluded me from establishing that my state appellate counsel's performance was "objectively unreasonable," why didn't my extensive interrogation of my state appellate counsel concerning the claims Judge Garcia procedurally barred conclude that Mr. Scott Sullivan's performance was objectively unreasonable? The Honorable Orlando Garcia's contradictory jurisprudence led to a final ruling contradictory to my due process rights (14th Amendment).The only good thing that came out of the Honorable Judge's ruling concerned my claim that prosecutors (both of which are white) racially excluded African Americans from my jury (see, "The Ongoing Investigation into the Reginald W. Blanton Case"). In Judge Garcia's "prejudice analysis", he said the following: "The Supreme Court's opinion in Miller-El I and Miller-El II [Miller-El was a former Death row prisoner from Dallas who had his conviction overturned because Dallas D.A.'s kept African Americans from serving on his jury.] make clear the significance a showing the prosecution utilized a raciallydiscriminatory jury shuffle can have in the context of Batson analysis. Petitioner [me] correctly argues the circumstances surrounding the prosecution's request for a jury shuffle in his case raise significant suspicions regarding whether the prosecution's motive for its requested jury shuffle was racial. Three of the five black member of petitioner's jury venire were located in the first twenty venire members of the initial venire panel; the prosecution's jury shuffle removed all black venire members from the first 63 members of the new panel. Further, petitioner correctly points out the prosecution's proffered race-neutral explanation for its jury shuffle request, given years later after petitioner's trial, does not withstand even casual scrutiny." Above, Judge Garcia is basically saying my prosecutor's legal excuses for keeping African Americans off my jury has no bases. Further, in a footnote, Judge Garcia said: "During her testimony at petitioner's state habeas hearing, petitioner's former lead prosecutor stated she exercised peremptory challenges based on the venire members' occupations, preferring to move teachers and social workers toward the back of the venire panel while moving venire members with ties to law enforcement, the military, and accountants toward the front. However, the teachers in petitioner's jury venire were spread out fairly evenly throughout petitioner's initial venire panel, with six teachers among the first fifty and five in the latter half of the venire panel." Finally, Judge Garcia goes on to say: "Having independently reviewed all the applicable evidence, this court finds no correlation whatsoever between the occupation-related concerns voiced by the lead prosecutor during her testimony at petitioner's state habeas hearing and the composition of petitioner's initial venire panel. There was no concentration of venire members serving in any of the occupations the prosecutor found offensive among those persons seated in the front half of petitioner's initial venire panel. Thus, a valid argument could be made the 21

prosecution's request for a jury a shuffle was race-based and the prosecution's proffered race-neutral reasons for same a mere post facto pretext. Moreover, as explained above, the prosecution's questioning of venire member Michelle Johnson was significantly different in scope of character from its voir dire questioning of non-black venire members. Viewing the entire factual scenario surrounding the prosecution's exercise of its…peremptory strike against venire member Michelle Johnson, this court independently concludes the prosecution's proffered race-neutral reasons for striking Michelle Johnson were more rationalization than rationale." However, again, the Honorable Judge had to contradict justice by denying this claim because of a technicality.

My appeal is now due for September 7th 2007 in the notorious 5th circuit court of appeals, which systematically denies appeals 99% of the time. If they deny my appeal, a state-sanctioned-murder date could be set for me at any time. What can be done? Maybe somebody knows a good law firm that will fight wholeheartedly, my case in the Supreme Court, should I become part of the 5th circuit court of appeal's 99%. Other than this, all I can say is stand by for the petition DRIVE. And please don't let my plight go unheard. Tell everyone you know… and don't know, THIS IS AMERICAN JUSTICE!!! "…only with the power of the people are we able to achieve justice or receive justice…It is not because of the justice of the court." --Huey P. Newton With all the love of my BEing, Comrade and brother, Reg "Omari Huduma" Blanton

STATEMENT FOR THE AUGUST 17TH RALLY SAN ANTONIO TEXAS 09 There was so much controversy over Judge Sotomayor and whether she would be an activist on the bench, an activist akin to Thurgood Marshall; yet if it wasn’t for Thurgood Marshall, the desparities in the application of the death penalty would be much more lop—sided than they are right now. Emphasis on “much more” because we must keep in mind that it remains lop—sided. And we can thank Sharon “Killer” Keller, partially, for this. The intersting thing is that we have all this talk about Ms. Sotomayor being some kind of activist on the bench, grasping at straws in her past, trying to distort facts to support this false image being thrusted upon her, when we have a bench activist facing trial right here in San Antonio; albeit one dia-metrically opposed to Thurgood Marshall. Sharon Keller would be the Rush Limbaugh to Thurgood Marshall’s Martin Luther King, Jr. 22

If we look to Sharon Keller’s past we will find much more than straws. We would find bells of hay. She is the judge that said, when one defendant asserted that his DNA wasn’t found in the body of a rape victim, that he could have been wearing a condom. That he could have been wearing a condom?! “Could have.”? This is how she rules on cases. Another example is the case where the defendants lawyer slept in a portion of his very own trial, and she held that there was basically nothing wrong with it since the portion of the trial the lawyer slept through was an insignificant part of it; An “insignificant” part of his trial?! This is the way she rules. The sad thing is that this is no hyerbole. She actually did this. Anyone can look up these cases to see what she said for themselves. I would actually advise this; because its because of the ignorance of the people that we are even having this conversation. Nevertheless, the final straw was the Michael Richard case—The Deathrow prisoner whose lawyer’s computer shut down at the last minute, litrally, preventing him from filing an 11th hour appeal to the CCA, Sharon Keller’s court, by 5 p.m., which is the cut off period for last minute appeals to be filed on the day of the prisoner’s execution date. When the lawyer attempted to finally get the appeal heard by Sharon Keller’s court mere minutes after five, Sharon “Killer” Keller refused to accept the appeal—nevermind that the lawyer had proof that his computer shut down—and allowed the State of the “Killing Machine” to proceed with killing Michael Richard, someone I knew. This is ut another reason why this judge is commonly refered to as “Killer” Keller. All of these atrocious acts have finally caught up with her. And because of a change of venue, she now awaits trial in San Antonio. Will Justice prevail? Well, this is the same question that the Free Reggie B campaign is asking. It was her court that refused to let justice prevail in my case. It was her court that felt that there was nothing wrong with the dissparities in the way prosecutors questioned black potential jurors in relation to white potential jurors; a racial injustice that she may very well not have to experience in her trial. It was her court that saw nothing wrong with the prosecutor in my case using a jury shuffle to shuffle to the back of the courtroom all the blacks that were mainly positioned in the front, as to avoid having to question them, and thus use peremptory strikess to keep them off my jury. However, this is not uncommon with her court. Her court, according to David Dow of the Texas Defenders service, denies Death row appeals 99.9% of the time; which is a critical point because the 5th circuit court, the final stop before the Supreme Court, gives deference to the CCA’s ruling: in other words, whatever the CCA says, the 5th circuit is going to take that same stance; thus why the 5th circuit denies appeals over 99% of the time as well. These numbers should raise alarm, especially when we are talking about against the wrong—doing of my state habeas attorney; which is true. There is a void in Texas law, where we have no constitutional protection against run-away attorneys at the state habeas stage of our appeals. And many death row prisoners have been killed by the state because of this dark secret. My question to you is this: were not my hands tied in this situation? And would you say that I’m to blame for my lawyer failing to files theses critical claims in the appeal that he was preparing for me? If you agree that my hands were tied in that I did everything I could to get my claims heard, and that I shouldn’t be blamed for my lawyers wrong-doing, then you agree that my execution date set for October 27 th is much more than an injustice; much more than a railroading. 23

Again, something has been brewing in our death penalty system for a long time now. The question is whether we will begin to take a more proactive stance against the inequities in our judicial system. We must ; or else people like Michael Richard or possibly myself will continue to be swept under the judicial rug of oblivion. And we have to remember, Justice delayed is Justice denied. Please, continue to educate yourselves and hold the three branches of government accountable. And do it now, for each minute that ticks only ticks off another statistic, another life. Grassroots activism is the only answer. May the grass continue to grow! With everything I AM Reginald Blanton

The Weeds that Bind By: Reginald “Omari Huduma” Blanton Remember that “strange fruit”--African Americans hanging from that “good ol’ oak” in the middle of the town’s square, burned and dismembered 24

before throngs of white, and sometimes smiling, spectators? This wasn’t only the Death Penalty’s popular form throughout chattel slavery and up until the early 1900’s but is the grave in which the Death Penalty’s roots are deeply embedded. Eventually, the people began to decry this barbaric “justice” and to appease society’s conscience; the Death Penalty took on a lynch mob-turnedsuperficial-trial-type setting. Then, execution by electrocution spread like weeds across American civilization. In 1972, slavery’s ghost haunted the Supreme Court in Furman v. Georgia(92 SCT 2726; 408 US 344), a case challenging the constitutionality of the Death Penalty’s arbitrary infliction against African Americans who committed murder or rape, but not European Americans who committed the same crimes. As opposed to uprooting these deadly weeds by abolishing the Death Penalty, the laws governing its application were merely mowed down (because of its over-broadness allowing arbitrary application). Four years later (1976), these weeds were back in the yard, along with new Death Penalty statutes systematically narrowing death penalty eligible crimes and the juries sentencing discretion. A mere “legislative-gauze”. For these “new” statutes didn’t do away with the mentalities that led to the Death Penalty’s arbitrary infliction. Each jolt and scream of the condemned in the electric chair jolted the conscience of American people. One too many times the condemned burst into flames, and civilization attempted another step away from its primitive and barbaric past, only to stumble over those weeds, falling on yet another “humane” substitute for executions: the condemned, strapped to a gurney resembling a horizontal cross, I.V, in his veins, looks to his left and sees the stone faces of the victim’s family behind a viewing glass, then to his right, the distraught and crying faces of his family behind a separate viewing glass. In a few moments, a lethal concoction of chemicals (banned from use on animals by the American Veterinary Medical Association) will poison the life-streams flowing through his veins until he’s murdered. A relic of crucifixion? After all, the second chemical (procronium bromide) in lethal injection’s 3-chemical concoction is a powerful tranquillizer that paralyzes the diaphragm, causing asphyxiation, and paralyzes the body, hiding the condemned’s suffering from the onlooker. The latest and more sophisticated form the Death Penalty has taken. Death Penalty advocates would have you think Americans still uphold the blind principle of an “eye for an eye.” Though in recent surveys, the majority of Americans say they would vote for life without parole over the Death Penalty. The Supreme Court said the 18th amendment—against cruel and unusual punishment—“must draw its meaning from the evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of a maturing society. “So why didn’t the American Government abolish the Death Penalty in accordance to society’s evolved standard of decency revealed in those surveys? Specifically, why did Texas, Governor Rick Perry merely make life without parole a “sentencing option” in Texas, instead of abolishing the Death Penalty? What advantages does the Death Penalty offer society to justify its existence? Here’s my case against the Death Penalty. Nothings Changed

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Since its not enough that innocent people have been executed and await execution, from a legal standpoint, shouldn’t the fact that the majority of Death Row prisoners have been found guilty under the following conditions:  A jury devoid of their peers (which opens the door to subtle prejudices)  Mistaken or perjured testimony (e.g. jailhouse snitching)  Faulty police work (e.g. Houston Crime Lab)  Coerced confessions  Inept defense counsel  Circumstantial evidence Illegitamize their convictions? Even if Death Row Prisoners were justly convicted, the majority don’t fall into the “worst of the worst” category, which—supposedly —justifies their death sentence. According to Death Penalty law, the Death Penalty may be sought against someone who, for example shoots and kills someone while stealing their wallet (there has to be a murder and another felony, e.g. burglary or robbery): whereas, someone who murders someone every day of the week with a chainsaw may receive multiple life sentences at the most. Because the former crime is considered more gruesome than the latter, the convicted is labelled the “worst of the worst”—too violent to even be imprisoned around the chainsaw murderer, and therefore, deserving of death. One of the Death Penalty advocates biggest arguments for its use is that it deters violent crimes. Yet, how can they argue deterrence when the Death Penalty is not used to deter all violent murders (though all murders are violent)? Remember the chainsaw murderer? Here we are 34 years since Furman, and one of the reasons the Supreme Court cited in the ruling the Death Penalty unconstitutional as it was applied then, still exist now--- it’s being inflicted arbitrarily. They even observed that the Death Penalty seems to stimulate criminal activity, as the higher crime rates in death penalty states than in nondeath penalty states continues to show. Furthermore. In Furman, Thurgood Marshall (first African American Supreme Court Justice) said “if the death penalty is used to encourage guilty pleas and thus to deter suspects from exercising their rights under the sixth amendment to jury trials,”a state” could not profess to rely on capitol punishment as a deterrent. “I remember how prosecutors tried to coerce me and several other prisoners (some successfully) to plead guilty for a life sentence by threatening us with the Death Penalty. And if prisoners refused to buckle under that threat (as I did), forcing the state to spend hundreds of thousands of tax payers’ dollars in a capitol murder trial, after prosecutors utilize jailhouse snitch testimony, manipulates the jury by igniting subtle prejudices they may harbour, and the defendant’s inept legal representation, to say the least, he may wish he had taken that life sentence! Before Death Penalty advocates can hope to argue deterrence, those they wish to deter from committing capitol murder must be aware of its imminent threat. The Majority of Texas death row prisoners I’ve spoken to confessed the Death Penalty never crossed their minds when they were in the free world. Studies show now, just as Thurgood Marshall stated in Furman, “it is extremely unlikely that much thought is given to penalties before the act is committed, and even if it were…a murderer rarely expects to be caught and usually assumes that if they are caught they will either be acquitted or sentenced to prison.” 26

If death penalty advocates wish to argue deterrence, they can at least come up with a commercial concept akin to crashed cars as a result of drunken driver, or deteriorating brains as a result of drugs. Maybe they can utilize “Death Vans” like China does; driving city-to-city executing Death Row prisoners in the communities they committed their crime in. One of the most interesting things I’ve found is as opposed to imprisoning Texas’ death row prisoners the same way they are now, but in general population under a life sentence, at half the tax payers’ dollars (saving approx. $1 million per prisoner; multiply that by the 430 death row prisoners currently in Texas), the state would rather spend $2 million includes appeal costs, which would make sense. Here’s why: Texas allocates $25,000 to court appointed attorneys for indigent death row prisoners (which over 90% are) post conviction appeals. Though Texas lawyers protest that $25,000 is not enough (e.g. California’s death row appellant attorneys spend $25,000 just on investigation, and can bill the court up to $142,375), Gary Susswein, American-Statesman staff member, revealed in his 5-26-02 article that more than $5 million of the “not enough” funds allocated for Texas death row appeals, not only went unspent for the past 5 years at the time of the report, but was funnelled back into the general state budget to fill state deficits. Perhaps this one of the reasons Texas Governor Rick Perry chose to make life without parole a mere sentencing option, preserving the Death Penalty, and the funds it brings the state. Moral Deterioration “The deleterious affects of the death penalty are also felt otherwise than at trial. For example, its very existence ‘inevitably sabotages a social or institutional program of reformation.’ In short, ‘the presence of the death penalty as the keystone of our penal system bedevils the administration of criminal justice all the way down the line and is a stumbling block in the path of general reform and treatment of crime and criminals.” --Thurgood Marshall Furman (408 U.S. 344,2792) In Benedict Carey’s, “When Death is on the Docket, the Moral Compass Wavers” (New York Times, 2-7-06) he reported ground breaking research conducted by Stanford psychologists on prison staff members who work on execution teams. These psychologists found “that prison staff members who work on execution teams exhibit high levels of moral disengagement (a process people utilize to buffer themselves from their own consciences to engage in or permit acts that go against their morale) and the closer they “came to killing the prisoner, the higher their level of disengagement was.” These “members of the execution team were far more likely than guards not on the team to agree that the inmates had lost important human qualities.” Otherwise, their conscience wouldn’t allow their involvement in the execution of these inmates. Some of the “justification” they cited to morally disengage themselves were religious support such as an “eye for an eye” (quoting the Old Testament),speculation that the prisoner cold escape and kill again-though escapes by Death Row prisoners are rare, and the ones that have occurred in Texas have never resulted in another killing. This reasoning forgets that murderers like the chainsaw murderer, who can’t receive the Death Penalty, are 27

imprisoned in a less secure environment than Death Row prisoners-and consideration of the cost to society for caring for such prisoners (though it’s cheaper to care for the prisoner than to kill him). Also highlighted was how the level of disengagement was about as high in a prison worker that participated in an execution for the first time as it was for those who had been a party to more than 15. Further, members of the execution support staff, specifically counsellors working with the prisoners and victim’s families, though initially “highly morally engages,” were found to share the same level of moral disengagement as those involved, after being only a party to 10 executions. In other words, while those on the execution teams had to morally disengage themselves as much for each execution, the more those mere parties to the execution aided it indirectly, the more their morals deteriorated until they shared the same mentality as the executioners. Thus why psychologists said, “shifts in moral judgement are often unconscious, and can poison the best instincts and intentions. “Sounds like what Thurgood Marshall said in the above quote. Yet, the weeds “bedevilment” doesn’t stop spreading here. The Psychologically torturing, sensory-depriving 23/24-hour solitary confinement of Texas’ death row has and continues to push prisoners to various levels of despair. Some prisoners lie in their own waste mutilate themselves, and have committed suicide by a sheet or via the state (dropping their appeals to expedite execution). Sick and tired of this dehumanizing and deteriorating environment, several dedicated prisoners and I found the movement called D.R.I.V.E: Death Row Inner-communalist Vanguard Engagement. DRIVE implacably stands against the Death Penalty, while demanding as close to humane treatment (because confinement under a sentence of death can NEVER be humane) as possible as long as we have to be confined. We strive to create a sense of dignity and brotherhood within these walls through standing in solidarity with our fellow prisoners-turned-brothers, while relaying avenues the death row community can and should utilize to attack these oppressive forces that creates our environment, as opposed to permitting our own emasculation, and ultimately our destruction… which amounts to the destruction of humanity (see www.drivemovement.org ). On one occasion, Warden Hirch of Polunsky’s Unit Death Row, walked through Level 111 (where prisoners are subjected to the highest level of sensory deprivation) where they had the DRIVE activists encaged. When DRIVE activist Kenneth Foster confronted Warden Hirch about the deteriorating conditions, Warden Hirch responded, “Well, you shouldn’t have come to Death Row. It’s a lot of taxpayers that could give a shit less what you have, and think you have too much!” Doesn’t this sound like one of the several justifications guards on the execution teams used to justify the condemned so-called deserving of death? Warden Hirch’s “justification” allowed him to morally disengage himself, even if subconsciously, to permit the deteriorating conditions to persist, which only leads toward the deterioration of the minds and spirits of the death row prisoners he oversees. For these reasons the Death penalty is so inherently unjust, anything associated with it is equally inherently unjust; because it must function through the same corrupted flow: from the law legalizing the denial of human right to life, to the minds of those who morally disengage themselves to assist (whether directly or indirectly) in the taking of these lives.

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What enriches civilization, fear or love? Dr Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Civilization and violence are antithetical concepts….,Through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can’t murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can’t establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can’t murder hate. Darkness cannot put out darkness. Only light can do that “But what is “light”. I once read about how a tribe in a northern region of South Africa responds to tribe members that commit criminal offences. The tribe members are not ostracized, labelled” the worst of the worst,” and then executed. Instead, the tribe forms a circle around their member and for days reminds him how special and beautiful he is. Can you imagine how uplifting and reconciling this could be? We should allow this light to guide us. I am not saying we should follow this practice literally. But let’s analyze how we conduct business inside our homes. Think of the person you love most; perhaps your mother. Now envision finding out she committed capitol murder and the state is seeking the Death Penalty against her. Would you want her to die? Consider the victim’s mother’s pain. A pain she would want no mother to feel; yet the condemned’s mother feels that same pain until the point of her child’s execution, and even beyond. None of this pain is minimizing crime rates. However all the time, there’s compassion in these respective homes-family members sharing love to heal the pain, valuing each other’s lives the same. We demonstrate our higher selves in the home, but feed our baser-selves by not seeing our daughters, sons, brothers, and fathers outside the home. Civilization doesn’t exist when it only exists inside the home. Only when we begin to see ourselves in others will we attain that which we have been unsuccessfully seeking through perpetuating the very atrocities we strive to prevent. It’s time we try an alternative. Let’s uproot these weeds, throwing them to our primitive past, and allow civilization to flourish. Tell your state representative “life over death” because the death penalty is KILLING US ALL …morally, spiritually, and physically. REGINALD BLANTON WHAT IS TO BE DONE? I need an Attorney that will aggressively fight for my life as if it were her/his own, in the Supreme court, should my 5th Circuit appeal get denied justice. This attorney needs to be knowledgeable in the that law which pertains to procedural default. Likewise, if my case is reversed, I will need an attorney to represent me at another trial. I have written a "media letter" which maybe be downloaded and sent to various law firms and other legal organizations to bring their attention to my case. The most important thing to remember is: Persistence is the key. My plight needs as much media exposure as possible, specifically here in Texas, that not only emphasizes the injustices of my wrongful conviction, but also highlights my genesis into manhood, my self –evolution, my redemption in spite of charges I would NEVER change or amount to anything. This is more so what the media letter was created for. The most important thing to realize is we want to target media outlets or journalist that are either, firstly against the Death Penalty or has been critical of it, and secondly, those media outlets or 29

journalist that has taken a neutral position in their coverage of Death Penalty issues. I need people to relentlessly pursue influential people that are against the Death Penalty such as Texas Senator, Rodney Ellis, Green Party's presidential candidate and Georgia Senator, Cynthia Mckinney, or Greens Party's presidential candidate from San Antonio, Cate Swift, and those like them, to persuade them to use their influence to persuade the Texas State Bar in San Antonio to accept and entertain the grievance I'm trying to file against Scott Sullivan for refusing to represent me; since the first grievance I attempted to file was classified as an "inquiry" and was dismissed. We need pressure on the State Bar to do the right thing. They have avoided this issue for way too long because they thought they were only dealing with somebody on death row. (This grievance can be found on my myspace page) We also need these influential people to persuade their associates to stand with them in this demand for true justice in my case. This same approach can be used if you live overseas. There are influential people in your respective cities that could be contacted in the same manner. Nevertheless, whether these influential people are in the U.S or is overseas, I suggest that the media letter be sent to them first. Next a follow up phone call or email, to see if they received the media letter and if they are willing to take some kind of action. (When the media letter is being sent to these "influential people", it may be a good idea to enclose with it a brief and respectful letter letting them know what you hope for them to do). If they are overseas, perhaps they know somebody that knows somebody influential in the U.S who can help us. However if they choose to procrastinate or not take any action all together, we will be forced to take a more decisive approach. Each one of you has a circle of influential comprising of friends and family. The goal would be to get those within this circle to embrace our plight. You may only have to pass them the media letter to get them to see the necessity in fighting to bring me justice. Once you have established that circle of support, if the influential person you contacted to help us refuses to help us and is a public official (politician) with picket signs in tow, the circle of supporters should non violently protest in front of their office. During these protests, loud protest! a call should be made to the local news station notifying them of the protest. (By doing this we may acquire some media attention we may otherwise not get, while pressuring the public official to use their influence to help us after all). I will be personally mailing a variation of the media letter to Texas' Governor, Rick Perry, everyday, from this point until we either receive justice or the state of Texas Murder Me. This Governor letter will soon be on my myspace page too. At the bottom of it will be a place for supporters to sign so they may also send to the Governor I solidarity with me. We are also starting to fundraise again. Eventually we will branch out, wherever we have supporters willing to help us fundraise. What I ask of you is please donate anything to my cause, as after as possible. Though the more the better, if you are only able to donate 50 cents, eventually we will have enough money to get the support we need to save my life and bring attention to why the Death Penalty should be abolished. 30

Finally I believe in the creative power of thought, word, and action, all of which, when infused with the powerful energy of conviction, of utter belief, becomes prayerful seeds planted in the Universe. As we continue on BEing victorious in our plight, our victory will begin to sprout, blossom with all its glory. So what I ask is that we consciously keep in mind this creative power of thought, word and action. We have already built momentum in all planes of existence. The Universe is already working in our favour, Let words of power fill our minds and hearts till our cups runneth over, spilling into the Universe. Whether its fervent prayer or a mantra, which may be a word or phrase you find that allows you to feel power, encouragement, it could be as simple as "Victory is Ours" Please take time out through out the day to pour your energy on this seed of ours we've planted so we may cultivate our VICTORY! I Love you all Omara aka Reginald Blanton.

****This article was written by Reg, when he found out about his execution date *****

Death Salivates 2pm. 7-16-09. I just woke up. I had slept for exactly 8 hours. I am a night owl. Yet, I was not rejuvenated. I did not feel balanced. I told myself that something was happening in the Universe. In the distant dark galaxy of my being I felt something approaching. I’d had an earlier hunch but dispelled it with 31

my exhale. I grabbed all my senses; all of my energy and brought them inside, concentrating it. Concentrating on soothing the waters of what I thought was a turbulent mind-body. Here I was, doing the same thing today. An hour went by. I was frustrated because my meditation yielded very little. I decided to conclude my meditation with the Tripod Pose, a Hatha Yoga posture where I ease into a headstand, feet in the sky, while focusing on my breathing. This pose is designed to calm your mind-body. I felt it might do the trick. It has always worked in the past. I heard the gate pop. Then there were jangling keys as somebody made their way upstairs to 2 row where I was encaged. I brought my attention back, like, “Get back over here!” Like that. Then my senses went back outside. “Blanton! What are you doing? The Major wants to talk to you,” said the Sergeant. I eased out of my posture and into another called Child Pose before getting up and telling the Sergeant I had been meditating and needed some time to brush my teeth. I brought my attention fully back and noticed that I was nervous. I knew what it was. Damn! I knew what it was… I gave the Sergeant my jumpsuit, sort of spun while shaking out my boxers to try to keep from having to degrade myself by stripping completely naked and having to turn around and spread my…well, you know. The Sergeant wasn’t tripping today. He told me to just come on. I didn’t like that. He was being a (little) nice. That was not a good sign. Not good at all… Damn! We get out in the hallway and he asked me if I knew what this was about. But it was the way he said it. He said it like he knew what it was about. Damn. I told him I did. I saw the nurse and asked him if he had my morphine shot. Ha, ha, um, ha, *ahem*. That did not make me feel any better. I tried though. I just decided to stay quiet the rest of the way. We get in the Major’s office. I sit down and cross my legs, looking him square in the eye, all sorts of emotions flowing through me: Anger, embarrassment, sadness…”What’s up, Major?” I asked. In a slow and somber tone he told me that I had an execution date and he was going to explain a few things to me and have me moved to Death Watch. He said that he’d just found out himself. All I could see in my mind was my Queen. All I could feel is what she would feel. I thought I was going to be sick. I tried to hide it. I knew what time it was. I knew this was coming. And after the march we just had outside of the courthouse in San Antonio, I knew that the D.A.’s weren’t going to hesitate to immediately set a murder date for me. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. It just wasn’t. Maybe I was naive. Me, the “realist”, naive. The courts were going to see the injustice and refuse to let me be railroaded. Yet they railroaded me. It was like the many stories I’ve read about battered women. She’s getting beat by her husband. She knows that he’s going to keep on beating her. He’s vicious. She knows he’s going to stop. He’s a good man. Everything was suddenly happening so fast. Everything was surreal. Yet I had been preparing for this for 9 years. No! You cannot prepare for something like this. You just can’t. 28 years young. Just the other day that one officer cried when she found out how young I was; how much I remind her of her own kids. I have too much life where they said only dwelt death. I have too much life pouring out of me to prepare to die. Die? Die for what?! Ya’ll are trying to kill, wrongly, a loving, beautiful man. Not a killer. Not a monster. A man with a family. A beautiful, loving wife. A beautiful, loving step-son. My Mama. My people. My people need me. You are trying to steal me away from the people who need me. The Major tells me about the number of witnesses I can have; talks about a last will. A last will, ya’ll! A “last will”?! What about my will to live?! 32

The Major talks…I drift in and out of even being there at all. He talks about disposition of any trust funds, disposition of personal property. He talks of my last meal; how they won’t get me any lobster or shrimp, or T-bone steak. He was trying to make light of the situation. But there was nothing “light” about it – at all. It was heavy; heavy like my consciousness. “Lobster ?! I don’t give a damn about a last meal! A last meal?! A last meal is the farthest thing from my mind.” But this wasn’t what I wanted to say. I said it, yes. But it wasn’t what was just beyond my ability to put into words. It just would have been wrapped in phrases with the words: Love, Justice, Passion; Sun and Supernova; Consciousness, Soul; Infinity, Eternity. Words like that. Words like that….. The Major talks about disposition of “Remains”. He kept talking but “Remains” kept echoing in my mind. Remains? Remains? Remains of what?! I guess the Major saw my confusion and specified “body”. My thoughts went back to My Queen; my precious wife. Baby… The Major, who once told me I talk too much, talks. The Major, who I once told, “You would rather me talk to you than to not talk to you at all,” talks about my last commissary spend. He said I can spend $150 two weeks from the execution date. I was outraged! I am not going to put $150 of money I don’t even have into their pocket as something of a going away gift; that’s provided I can manage to stomach any food at all. “I’m not trying to spend $150 two weeks out on my commissary!” I said. The Major told me that he was only letting me know what my options were. Those were my options? My options?! That’s that problem: They are constantly limiting my options. If it’s not going home to my wife’s sacred embrace then it is not an option for me! If it’s not living then it is not an option for me! I am a man and will define my own options, my own destiny, worth more than a hundred and fifty bucks. Finally, the Major talks about the so called last special visits and how they would happen. “Mama was taken off my visitation list”, I said without trying to say it. It just spilled out with some of the anger. They took Mama off my visitation list last year to torture me into telling them who brought the cell phones into this unit – one of which I had used to call Mama every morning before she went to work to tell her I love her. They took my damn Mama off the list because of it, we she did not violate any visitation rules. “are ya’ll going to put Mama back on the list?” I ask. It was more like, this is the least you should do for me in light, yeah “light” of things they were trying to take from me: “Gimme your freedom!” “Gimme your mind!” ”Gimme your Mama!” “Gimme your LIFE – “ Whoa, whoa, whoa. Now you’re just asking for too damn much. The Major looked at me for a moment, in silence, taking the measure of a man that was containing himself, and lords knows how. A man whose words were filled to the brim, no – brimming over, with all that I was containing; with ALL, EVERYTHING spilling everywhere from the eyes of my words, those 33

windows. There is just so much in me. Just so, so much… The Major told me that he couldn’t promise anything, but that he would talk to the Warden and see what he says. Just for that brief moment, that brief moment we shared in silence, I could tell he gave in to his humanity. For that brief moment he and I existed beyond the veil. But, just as brief as that moment came, it went. His authoritarian, take-take-take-and-only-give-when-it’s-to-his-advantage programming kicked in. I could see the change. He said, if it were up to him, and he decided to put my Mama’s name on my list, under these exceptional circumstances, and he stressed “exceptional circumstances”, if I were to get a stay of execution, she would be taken back off the list. Sick. Because I saw he was thinking a bit too much, I asked him to set the meeting up with the Warden and allow me to be there with him. The Warden needs to hear the words from my heart, not the Major’s words of suspicion and some obsessive desire to control. Back to my pod and cage. How was I going to tell him? I have known him for 9 years. 9 years! And now I have to tell him this. I sat at the foot of my bunk, leaning against the wall between Obie Weathers and me. The little loose metal bar that plugged the hole went all the way through the wall; I rattled to get his attention. I put my ear to it to hear his response. When he answered I began to tell him about everything that had happened. I managed to tell him that I was given a date for October 27th, as well as what he could do but from that point on my words slowly faded away as I slipped into the depths of an ocean of tears that I struggled to push back. And I drifted…as my mind drifted back to the first moment I met Obie; my first day on the tank after wrongly being thrown into Bexar County jail for this horrible crime in 2001. Then, various experiences he and I had shared over the years, one after another flooded my mind. ….. Suddenly I gasped, somehow able to push back the ocean of tears. I backed away from the wall to breathe and gain control. Then my mind went back to where my mouth left off at. I didn’t want to give him tears. They have had too many of my tears already. No! They weren’t going to get anymore! I was going to be strong. But I felt so weak. And Obie felt it. He said it. “It’s all just knocked the air out of me”, I told him. “But I’m focused”, I added as feeble as it may have sounded. “Obie, it’s just so messed up”. “I know. It’s…nightmarish. It’s-it’s…surreal”, he said. “I know I have so many brothers around here watching what happens to me. I have preached to these brothers time and time again over the years to not give up on themselves despite how hopeless the situation seems; to fight for their lives; for their Humanity. And now this. I don’t want this to reinforce their fears. I don’t want them to say, ‘See! Look at what happened to Reg. It doesn’t matter what you do, they still gonna kill you.’” (silence) “I don’t accept this date. I’m not trying to hear it, Obie. They’ve got me messed up! With everything I am, EVERYTHING I AM, I’m going to fight this. EVERYTHING I AM!” 34

After telling him I love him and that I had to get my things packed, I left the wall. The officers came back to the section. Lights came on. The gate popped. They brought the little cart to carry my belongings. And I thought to myself, so much for easing off the section. I didn’t want anybody to know that I was going to Death Watch. I didn’t even want anybody to know that I was even on Death Watch at all. The only thing I wanted them to know is that I got my life back. Not that they were about to take it away. It was all completely humiliating and sick all at the same time. My stuff was packed. I backed to the cage door to get handcuffed, took a deep cleansing breath – and stepped into the run. Fighting back that ocean the whole way, I went down the run and woke Tony Medina up. I cringed at having to wake him to this. He came to the door rubbing his eyes. I told him that I was moving to Death Watch and that I’ve got a date for Oct.27th. He looked at me and the only thing he said was, “That’s fucked up”. His neighbor was standing at the door, Juan Reynosa. “You moving, man?” “Yeah, they gave me a date for Oct.27th…” “Ah man, that’s fucked up! Man! Damn…keep ya head up”. “A’ight, man, a’ight,” I said. Tears were beginning to breach the levees. A deep breath. I stepped on. Joseph Lave hollered at me from the other end of the run. “What cell ya going to?” “14 cage”, I reply. “You know, that’s my old cage!” Joseph was just off of Death Watch and, for whatever reason, made it off. “Yeah, I know. And I’m trying to come back just like you did!” I said. “Already!” he laughed. “I’ve been busy but I’ll get with you.” I was in front of Obie’s cage. We looked in each other’s eyes for a moment. I could tell he was taking measure of me. I let him. I wondered if he could see through me. I wondered if I was hiding what I truly felt as much as I thought I was. “You’re ugly.” he said. Though I was thinking you know damn well I’m not ugly, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll catch up with you,” I said. “A’ight.” As I was coming down the stairs, I hollered at another prisoner I knew I on the row. And with a smile that smiled through his words, he said, “Holler at me.” I thought to myself, why is he smiling? Would he be the one who sends my wife flowers at my funeral to entice her into responding with a “Thank you,” so that 35

he could respond and try to get her to write again? There are vultures like that around here. “I’ma holler at the whole world!” I returned to him as I walked of the section. Another brother hollers at me from another section – in Swahili. I tell him, “October 27th!” “”Ahhhhh man!” he gave. And shut the door behind me. When I got to Death Watch the whole vibe was different. There are eight people over here right now. I’m not saying that they were happy to see me. But it was like my company comforted them to some vague extent. A faint beam of light that found a thin layer of clouds; as thin as a layer of ice that this beam of sunlight stepped upon and fell through. All of this was mere layers of ice I had to work through. Underneath all this lied the iceburg: How? How can I tell my precious wife that her husband, her baby, that she hasn’t even had the chance to properly and officially marry yet – has an execution date? How can I tell My Queen this? I want to just cry in her arms but I cannot even tell her like that. I’m disgusted with the State for even putting me in this situation. How do I tell Mama that they have set the date to kill her baby? (Tears) The weight . God, the weight. I have to tell them. I hate to tell them. My God! I have to.

WOUNDED (S.O.S)....

Baby, my precious baby, I love you with my soul. Baby, you know this. (Tears) They set a date for me to die. I despise this day, My Queen. I despise having to tell you this. I despise putting you through this. All I can say is that She has never cried so hard, so utterly, in her life. She cries as if you are my Queen-Self and I vow to you that I will fight this fight with all that I her life depended on it. In fact, lives do depend on it. Dark, angry have. I will not allow them to take me away from my Heaven: You, Queen. My clouds haven’t even known raindrops the size of her tears. O’ the life. My Heaven and my Life. I will have you, My Queen, I will. hurt. Her gapping mouth frowns with wails from her agony. I haven’t realized how my face contorts from the mere sight, the mere sight of…my wound. I’ve been wounded by the mistreatment Humanity who sits curled up like an abused child, Reginald Blanton July of 2009 precious child, in the corner of our souls, neglected by the US; neglected by the STATE; neglected by this administration; and what hurts—o’ it hurts—even more, neglected by my fellow death row prisoners, whose faces turn away from this child because they feel they don’t deserve her. And when they turned their confused faces with tears in their eyes, it ripped a hold through my flesh; one so profound, I can peer through it to my Soul, to that child, the child that cries..... I lay wounded in the ditch of my cage, left to die, this child and me. Passerbys hear the cries from my wound—their reflection, but they refuse to face themselves, passing US by. My wound cries for US, which means YOU. The child in me, in US, needs YOU. WE can heal, but it must be TOGETHER; I can’t do it alone,.... …My wound is bleeding my Soul..... Please….... please don’t pass US by.....

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REGINALDS PHOTO GALLERY

Reginald 2009

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Reggie’s Mama, Sandie, & Reggies Grandparents

Sis Morrison, Mama, Reg

Reggie and Sandie

CONTACT DETAILS Reginald Blanton 999395 Polunsky Unit 3872 FM 350 South, Livingston Texas 77351 U.S.A

www.myspace.com/freereggieb http://reginaldblanton.ning.com 38

http://savereginaldblanton.weebly.com Email:[email protected] [email protected]

Go online to sign Reginalds petition http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/SaveReginald

Lawyers Information John Carroll. Telephone Number USA (001) 210 829 7183

HELP SAVE REGINALD BLANTON'S LIFE 1981-????

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