Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Daily Corrections Clips

CALIFORNIA INMATES

Tom Wright, Monterey Herald

Soledad >> California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation officials said minimum security inmate Brian Martin, 22, was apprehended Monday after walking away from the minimum-support facility at Salinas Valley State Prison on Sunday.

Martin was apprehended at about 11:30 a.m. by police in Gonzales. He was taken into custody without incident and authorities returned him to Salinas Valley State Prison.

Michael Newberg, CNBC

Walking through the yard at California's historic San Quentin State Prison, the oldest in the state, it's difficult to keep movie clichés from popping into one's head.

Surrounded by high barbed-wire-topped walls and amidst groups of men playing basketball and doing push-ups under a blue sky, a line from the quintessential 1994 film "The Shawshank Redemption" came to mind. In the film, Tim Robbins' character Andy Dufresne, falsely imprisoned for murder, extols the virtue of hope upon his prison pal Red, played by Morgan Freeman. "Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."

For a select group of motivated inmates at San Quentin, located just outside of San Francisco, hope comes in the form of an intrepid non-profit called The Last Mile, which is teaching convicts how to code and working with Silicon Valley companies to give hardened criminals a shot at success once they're released.

DEATH PENALTY

Jane Braxton Little, The Sacramento Bee

ALTURAS- The former head of a Northern California Indian tribe was sentenced to death Monday for a 2014 rampage inside the tribal hall that left four people dead.

In sentencing Cherie Louise Rhoades, Judge Candace Beason called the killings at the Cedarville Rancheria Tribal Headquarters “intentional, premeditated and willful.” Beason rejected the option to modify a Placer County jury’s death sentence to life in prison.

Dressed in a gray-striped prison jumpsuit and orange plastic shoes, Rhoades, 47, shook her head as she listened to the judge read the sentence during a three-hour hearing in Modoc County Superior Court.

CORRECTIONS RELATED

Alejandra Salazar, Peninsula Press

In 2009, José Cabrera was stuck. He had recently been released from prison, returned to his hometown of East Palo Alto, and was trapped in a constant battle between his personal willpower and the systematic oppression of minority communities like his own. He’ll tell you that his life could have gone in a lot of different directions. Many of them would have landed him back behind bars.

“All I knew is I didn’t want to go back, but I didn’t know how I was going to do that change,” Cabrera said. “This turned out to be a blessing.”

By “this,” Cabrera means meeting David Lewis and participating in his East Palo Alto re-entry program. He will tell you that it took a few tries to get into it, that he was resistant at first (participation was mandatory for parolees like him living in EPA at the time, which made him skeptical). But the program eventually did what it was supposed to: it kept him away from prison and effectively changed his life.