A Trip to Death Row

Last month I decided to do something I never thought I would do. I would take a trip to Texas's death row. So at approximately 8:00AM on October 29^th of this year, I entered the grounds of the Polunsky Unit in Livingston. The reason for my visit was to finally meet the man who I had been helping for the past two and a half years...Michael James Perry. This trip would be the first vacation I have taken in 15 years. It would be an experience I will never forget.

Now let me start from the very beginning of this trip because I find it a little humorous how ignorant I am these days to airports, hotels and rental cars. I booked this trip on Expedia.com (free plug Expedia...how about a discount next time) and it was a very pleasant experience for the most part. I got the airline reservations, hotel and rental car all in one shot at a reasonable price. I was all set to embark on this once in a lifetime adventure.

At 5:00AM I arrived at the airport in Binghamton, NY to take the first leg of the trip to Detroit, Michigan. Now I always loved going to the airport and taking in the ambiance. The slight aroma of burned jet fuel and the hustling and bustling of people hurrying to catch their flights kind of makes it exciting. But on this day it was a little different. There was the hustling and bustling of people but the aroma of jet fuel was replaced by the smell of dirty feet. Yes, when I got to security, 35 people were standing in line with their shoes off...new experience for me already. So I followed suit and removed my shoes and went through security while they checked my Nikes for bombs.

Another new experience was flying on a commuter jet. These tiny things are cramped to the point of being illegal but the flight was relatively smooth. I land in Detroit about 7:45AM and start looking for my next flight to Houston. Naturally, the gate I had to go to was in another terminal at the other end of the airport. It took roughly 20 minutes to get there and that was using the skywalks to boot. Now if you've never been to the Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport, you in for a treat. There are two terminals that are about 3,000 miles long each and you have to go through a tunnel which runs under the tarmac to get from terminal to the other. The tunnel itself is pretty cool. It has these spacey weird patterns on the rounded walls that change color with the lighting and this spacey weird music to go with it. I found myself wanting to sit Indian style in the middle of it, pack a bowl of some really good chronic and get super ripped but alas, I had a plane to catch and I didn't have any weed.

I boarded a McDonnell Douglas DC-9 for my flight to Houston. You remember McDonnell Douglas don't you? They haven't made any airplanes since 1997 and hadn't made a DC-9 since 1982. Flying on a jet that is at least 27 years old is quite intimidating and very nerve racking but we made it safe and sound. I got my rental car from a car company I will not name because they flat out ripped me off but the car was nice and I made my way out of Houston heading north to Livingston. The weather was absolutely beautiful that day and I was digging the moment. What's always neat as your cruising up the highway is seeing all the fast food places that you don't have in you area and I wanted to hit them all. That reminds me; back at the Bush International, as I was heading to pick up the rental, I was walking through the terminal and when I looked up....there it was...a Schlotzsky's Deli! I hadn't had Schlotzsky's since I lived in Colorado in 1995 so I loaded up on sandwiches and got the car.

I headed to the La Quinta Inn in Livingston and I will tell you if you ever go to Livingston, TX, this is the place to stay. The hotel is managed ny Vick and his wife Nisha. I was treated like royalty there and the service was outstanding. The first night I was there, Vick called my room and asked me to join them for "happy hour" in the breakfast area. There is no lounge there so Vick went out and bought some beer, chips and dip, and pizza for the guests to enjoy while we chatted and watched TV. The hotel itself was brand new, only opening back in March but the place was spotless and you can't beat their free breakfast in the morning. I arrived around 1:30 in the afternoon and with nothing really on my agenda, I decided to make a "dry run" to Polunsky so I would know where to go in the morning. It took me less than 10 minutes to get to the prison from my hotel. That evening it began to rain and did not stop for 2 days.

The next morning I was extremely excited about seeing Michael for the first time so I was up by 4:30AM. I went outside to have a smoke and it was pouring out with a very warm 35mph wind. It was still 78 degrees. After breakfast, I retreated back to my room to watch the local news and got a kick out of how they do news down there. It's actually enjoyable to watch. The time was 7:45AM and time for me to head to Polunsky. It was still pouring when I got to the prison.

When you first pull into the prison, the first security checkpoint is at the gates. I told them I was there for a special visit and with whom I would be seeing. I was then told to pop the hood of the car and the trunk. He didn't make me get out of the car, probably because of the now monsoon that was upon us. He checked things out and told me where to park which was about 150 yards from the actual entrance to the prison building. I made my way to the front building, getting wet in the process, and went inside. Now at Polunsky, you are not allowed to bring paper money into the prison so you have to get it changed to quarters or those stupid gold dollars that everyone hates, 20 dollars max. There is a machine right there as you walk in the door so it was convenient. Now here is where you get thoroughly searched. Just like the airport, you have to take off your shoes so they can check for more bombs and maybe contraband, walk through the metal detector after having to put 20 bucks worth of change in to the oversized ashtray they give you. They even check the bottoms of your feet for illegal stuff.

While he was checking me, I made a booboo. I had inadvertently brought my wallet with me...a big no no. I was told I had to leave my wallet in the car so out I go, back into the torrential downpour, run the 150 yards, throw my wallet in the car, run back to the prison. Now I'm pretty much drenched. I empty my pockets; put all the change in the ashtray, give them my shoes which are still bombless at this point, get searched again and finally clear security. Now I go over to the check - in and the lady asks who I was there to see and if it is a special visit. I give her the info she wanted and then...it happened. She asked me for my ID which was in my wallet, in the car, 150 yards away, in a mini hurricane. I go BACK to my car, GET my F***ing ID, run BACK to the prison, go through security ONE MORE time, give them my shoes which STILL have NO BOMBS in them, get patted down, and go back to check-in. You'd think by now I was done with the rain, right? Oh HELL no; after this lady gives me my visitors badge and a blue sheet of paper, you go through 2 electronically controlled iron doors and then out into a lovely courtyard where you have to walk about another 50 to 75 yards in the rain over to death row visitation.

Let's face it, by this point; I look like a drowned rat. I am literally dripping wet and I'm going to have to sit in the wet clothes for 4 hours. I go inside the next building and make a left, go to another heavy iron door, wait for them to open it, and finally get to the visitation area. I give the Corrections Officer the blue sheet of paper and she assigns me to the number 33 visiting booth. Now I wait for 45 minutes for them to bring Michael out. As I look around there are about 50 of these booths and what really strikes me is how little room is on the inmate's side of the booth. Some of these men are rather large and it can't be comfortable for them to be sardined into these things. The inmate and the visitor are separated by about a 1 inch thick pane of glass. I'm not sure but I imagine it is bullet proof. You must use the telephones to communicate with each other. I also notice the one wall of vending machines which has everything from sandwiches to soda. Now I get why I needed all those coins.

At about 9:00AM they finally bring Michael out to visitation. He is handcuffed but not shackled. He does not even look up at me. They open the cage door, sit him down, close the door and then they remove his handcuffs through a slot in the door. It is only after he's un-cuffed that he makes eye contact with me. The look on his face was priceless. He had this look of shock and confusion that I found funny. We both picked up the phones simultaneously and the first thing he said to me was "What the hell happened to you?" I told him about the whole wallet debacle and he got a huge kick out of it. For about the first ten to fifteen minutes, he had a hard time making eye contact with me. I couldn't tell if it was because he had just woken up, whether he was nervous, or both. After that, he was quite the chatterbox. We talked about everything under the sun from sports to politics and everything in between. There is quite a bit of dialogue which I won't talk about here for the simple reason it was personal things between Michael and myself.

I cannot put into words how happy I was to meet him for the first time and over the course of 4 days, we had 4 great visits. I have said in previous articles that Michael can be mischievous and these visits were no exception. His favorite trick to pull on me was to pick up the phone, pretend like he was talking and make me think there was something wrong with the phone. It worked a couple of times and he would giggle like a school girl when he knew I fell for it. Around noon, the visitation area was pretty well packed. I thought to myself "I am surrounded by cold blooded murders, serial killers and flat out monsters and for a few moments, it scared the hell out of me. While I was there, I saw Tommy Lynn Sells, a convicted serial killer who raped and slashed the throat of a 13 year girl and confessed to 11 other murders. Yes, death row is a very scary place.

Michael and I talked a lot about the Stotler/Richardson murders and he was very open to any questions I had for him. I did ask him some very hard questions about the murders and he answered them quickly and honestly. There was always a very small part of me that wondered if he was involved but after meeting him and looking into his eyes, I have no doubt that he is innocent. He just doesn't have it in him to kill anyone. I do believe however that he has knowledge that he will never talk about either because he doesn't remember it or he feels at this point, it would do no good.

Michael talked about Jason Burkett and what their relationship was like and while he claims to hate Jason, There was a slight tone of affection that I picked up on. Myself, I think Michael still cares about Jason in his own way but will never admit it. From what he told me, Jason really did look out for Michael and took care of him when nobody else would. When they were both involved in the now infamous "shootout" with police, when Michael couldn't run, Jason picked him up and threw him over his shoulder so as not to leave him behind. That kind of showed me that Jason really cared about Michael.

I had 2 visits before the weekend and 2 more after so with nothing to do Saturday and Sunday, I called Michael's parents and we had dinner in Huntsville at a very nice Mexican restaurant. Gay and Jim Perry are two of the nicest people I have ever met in my life. We talked about Michael and where his case is going. They told me some stories about Michael when he was a little boy and you could tell by the way they spoke of him that they very much love and believe in their son. This was one of the highlights of my trip and I hope one day to see them again.

I should explain one thing to anyone who goes to Livingston, TX; the town is about as exciting as a funeral home. There is absolutely nothing to do in this town so the weekend dragged for me. I did find a bar out there call Buster McNutty's and that place was pretty neat. The bartender's name was Dawson (hehe...Dawson) and I thought to myself "only in Texas". My favorite place to eat was the City Grill which is on the corner of 190 and FM 350 South. Great food and a wonderful wait staff. This place was also convenient because it was on the way to the prison.

The last 2 visits I had with Michael were great but a little sad, especially the last day. He didn't say as much but I could tell he didn't want me to leave. The last thing he said to me was that he loved me and wanted me to come back. As I left the prison for the last time, I couldn't help feeling depressed knowing it could be the last time I would see him alive. I try not to think about his pending execution and I'm hoping for a miracle to prove his innocence.

The trip home was uneventful and pretty much all I thought about is my visits with Michael. I thought about how he lives day to day and the hopelessness he feels constantly. I refuse to believe that he will die at the hands of the executioner but at the same time I have to prepare myself for the worst. I cannot put on blinders and hope this all goes away because it won't. The state of Texas has every intention of killing my little bro and somehow, some way I have to find a way to stop them.

I will never forget this trip to death row and I hope one day very soon I can go back and visit him again. Maybe next time I won't have to see him in prison but at his parents' house happy and, most importantly, alive.