It Could Happen…
P.P.R.2
Thirty Years ago when we last visited Browning Jail in Texas it was the shining example of prison reform. It’s state of the art surveillance and containment technology insured inmate cooperation without brute force.
When it opened many human right activists chained themselves in a circle around the prison hoping to stop prisoners from being brought in. They voiced complaints and concerns over future treatment of the prisoners here. Privatized jails such as Browning are not held up to state or federal standards. Because they are privately owned they adhere to a less strict code of conduct.
Ten years ago reports began coming out that some privatized prisons were nothing more than forced labor camps. Ten out of the twenty six privatized jails in Montana have not released an inmate to freedom in over fifteen years.
Probes into the individual cases provided little insight. The reasons were generally extended sentences for minor offenses. Parole boards denying re-entry into society from a range of valid legal decisions. The legality of the entire situation is sewn up so tight that frustrated families are left with little hope that their loved ones will ever return.
Rumors of paid off parole boards and judges are vast, but there is very little proof of these allegations. Any person who comes forward is generally found dead weeks or months after leaking information. Some are questionable circumstances, others are natural causes. Regardless of whether you believe the conspiracy theorists or the powers that be, one fact is undeniable. Things have changed.
When we first arrived at Browning jail we were not welcomed with open arms as we were the first time. We were only allowed access to certain areas of the prison, and were instructed not to speak to any of the prisoners at all.
However as we relaxed on smoke break just outside the Common Area where inmates gather outside for personal recreation, two inmates approached us and began to speak freely of their own accord.
“Hi my names is Jules Munyos. I’m twenty seven years old, and from San Antonio. I want to say hi to my beautiful wife Consuela, and our daughter Maria Rose. Daddy loves you baby! I may never get the chance to see your beautiful face, or hold you ever again in my arms. But I want you to know, I love you. mi amor es eterno.” Inmate #90834 says to the cameras.
“My name is Darek Loins. I’m from Alabama. I was stopped in Texas on a traffic violation, they found heroin in the trunk that I was transporting to Lubbock.” Inmate #0423 says into the camera. “They work us here day and night. They gas us if we protest or try to put up a fight. They starve us into cooperation. Some nights we get to sleep four hours, two during harvest. They work us like slaves. The doctors patch us up and dope us up on medications we aren’t allowed to ask about. We eat tripe and rotten or rejected scraps while they send the rest off to supermarkets for profit.” Before the inmate can say more two prison guards come out and usher them back inside.
We could get nothing on film short of the men working in the fields, and the various prison shots of day to day life. The warden would not meet with us, or return our repeated calls to his office.
Shortly before this story ran the well being of both inmates #90834 and #0423 were checked on. Jules Munyos, Inmate # 90834 was alive and well on janitorial detail. Darek Loins, Inmate #0423 had fallen victim to a hay thresher and did not survive.