11.26.2016

Blood In The Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 And Its Legacy, Thompson - A*

                                           This is the history of the most important prison riot in US history.  Much of the information has been accessed by a historian's good fortune, as NYS keeps most of it under lock, key and classified designation.  I suspect his book is going to win a lot of awards - it is a masterpiece. The NYT reviewer refers to it as "a superb work of history." That said, it is a long tough slog, not because of the writing, which is excellent, but the topic, which is flat out horrible.
                                           The State Correctional Facility at Attica was understaffed, the correction officers (COs) were not trained, and they were severely underpaid. The inmates were overcrowded, virtually starved, provided with a roll of toilet paper and a bar of soap per month, underpaid for their work, uncertain of the rules as inconsistency of enforcement was rife, allowed parole only if they had a job, seldom visited because of the distance from NYC, unable to communicate with common-law relations, proscribed from writing or receiving letters in Spanish, unable to read almost all outside material, free to listen only to three local am stations, completely lacked access to medical or dental services - essentially hopeless. Conditions were and had been horrible.  Add into the mix a new black militancy among the prisoners and a power structure that felt obliged to suppress and fight them, and you had a burgeoning problem. "Warden Mancusi viewed prisoner activism as the work of black militant troublemakers who needed to be watched with particular care and shut up the minute they spoke out."
                                            The summer of 1971 saw increased militancy. Riots had taken place in NYC and  at nearby Auburn. Standing pat was Rockefeller's new man in charge, Russell G. Oswald, a wannabe reformer put on the defensive upon taking over the NYS system. The prisoners at Attica had sent a petition to Oswald. He told the men he would consider their requests to improve life at the prison. But, after the Attica Liberation Faction had wrote to the Commissioner, the guards began to strictly and brutally enforce all the rules. On the morning of Sept. 9, a combination of fear, confusion, change of routine and general sense of anxiety led to violence in A Tunnel and a full scale riot within minutes. Although there was no plan for a response to a riot, the COs and the State Police were able to re-take half of the cell blocks by noon. About half of the prisoners, approximately 1300 men,  gathered in the Yard of Cell Block D and began to organize themselves.
                                             Oswald arrived and immediately prohibited a violent re-taking. He was in the Yard by 4 pm. His primary concern was the well-being of the 40 hostages. He acceded to the demand that tv, newspapermen and outside observers be allowed into the prison. Ironically, it was only the presence of the outsiders that kept those clamoring to attack at bay. Outside the prison, the families of the hostages, local police and state troopers, as well as COs from around the region, gathered, waited, and were primed for revenge. The whole concept of observers turned into a circus within twenty-four hours. There were dozens in the prison including rabble-rousers and outsiders more radical than the inmates. Among the more notable observers were William Kunstler, Tom Wicker, Congressman Herman Badillo and State Senators John Dunne and Arthur Eve. Oswald spent a meaningful amount of time with the prisoners and agreed to the majority of their demands. However, the ongoing sticking point was amnesty, and unbeknownst to all inside, the forces of revenge were marshaling in Rocky's office. It was an era of law and order and the Governor could not be seen as lacking.  Matters became more complex on the third night when Bobby Seale showed up to stir the pot and the officer hurt in the riot by the inmates, William Quinn, died. "By Saturday night, no one...thought that this standoff could continue much longer. Someone, somewhere was going to break." Discussions continued on Sunday but the prisoners wanted amnesty and the state would not budge. By 7 pm Sunday, Oswald had given up. Both the State Police and the Corrections Dept. left the planning and implementation of the recovery of the prison in relatively low-level hands, which the author suggests was a case of Rockefeller deliberately distancing himself from whatever the consequences would be.
                                              On the morning of the 13th, the troopers  who were readying the attack were characterized by a National Guardsmen standing by as "haggard" and "exhausted". They had had zero training in an action such as this, and had never handled the rifles given them. Those rifles were loaded with particularly destructive ammunition. The men were unfamiliar with gas masks, which would impede their ability to communicate. They  were not instructed on how to accept a surrender, or what to do after they stormed the yard. No one had even recorded the serial numbers of the rifles distributed. Many were also armed with personal handguns. It was a classic snafu ready to happen. At about 9:40 am, a helicopter dropped cs gas on the Yard. The troopers followed and unleashed all they had, firing indiscriminately, often with intent to kill. One-hundrd and twenty-eight men were shot, nine hostages were dead, as were 29 inmates.  The author, undoubtedly correctly, attributed the massacre to racial ferocity and animosity.
                                              The State began spinning immediately, attributing all of the hostage deaths to the prisoners, who had purportedly slit their throats. The truth was that all but one had been shot. Throughout the day and the first night, the COs tortured and beat the inmates and Warden Mancusi denied them medical attention. It would take days and outsider's efforts to force the State to allow the wounded men medical care. As the first weeks passed, interest in what had happened grew and it became apparent that the state's coverup would fail, notwithstanding the public assertions of Rockefeller, Agnew and Nixon that organized militancy was behind the riot.
                                                The Governor eventually assigned the Organized Crime Task Force to look into Attica. This commission became known as the Fischer/Simonetti Commission and was charged with assigning criminal responsibility. In December of 1972, Simonetti indicted sixty-three prisoners for 1289 crimes, which included the death of William Quinn as well as three prisoners who were murdered by their fellow inmates.  The grand jury did not indict a single trooper or CO in the three dozen shooting deaths. Aligned against the state was the Attica Brothers Legal Defense (ABLD). It was more of a loosely organized movement than an entity, but it was  able to change the trials' venue from Attica to Buffalo. The state lost the first two cases, but won the trial for murder of the guard, William Quinn, even though the evidence was patently fraudulent. The next trial for two murders of inmates was lost by the state. In the third trial, the state allowed a man to plead to 'time served' and not acknowledge his guilt. By late 1975, the state's prosecutorial record was a total failure and someone inside the prosecution team went public as a whistleblower. That attorney's actions led to more newspaper stories, a lengthy report, another commission and a Special Asst. Attorney General assigned to reconsider everything. In 1976, all cases except one against an inmate for murder were dismissed. The only indicted CO also had his case dismissed. At the end of the year, Gov. Carey pardoned or granted clemency to all inmates and attempted to "close the book" five years after the riot. Millions and millions had been spent and millions of pages of reports, affidavits, grand jury and trial testimony produced. But the truth was buried far from the public view.
                                                  Soon thereafter, the civil lawsuits began. It would take two decades for some semblance of justice to be provided. In January of 1991, a federal court in Buffalo, in a class action lawsuit, determined that the inmates civil rights had been violated during the retaking. The Judge in charge delayed the penalty stage of the trial for another five years. Big Black Smith, the lead plaintiff, did not have a chance to testify about his torture until June, 1997. After a day of deliberation, the jury awarded Smith $4,000,000.  Smith's damage case was the strongest. Next the plaintiffs presented Frank Brosig's story, believed to be an average Attica case, and he was awarded $75,000. At that point, the state decided to appeal the original liability case, because they now knew they could be on the hook to the 1200 surviving inmates. In 1999, the Second Circuit reversed the liability judgement. It had been almost thirty years since the riot
                                                  The senior judge for the Western District took over the matter and forced the state (by now, Gov. Pataki after Mario Cuomo had refused to settle for 8 years) to pay $12m. The state never admitted guilt. Judge Telesca allowed every man to recount his story and thus place on the record the full saga of what had happened at Attica. The inmates and their lawyers were finally paid. The last chapter of the Attica tale is the pursuit of damages on behalf of the hostages, the families of the slain hostages and the now forty-year old-daughter of the slain guard, William Quinn. However, having previously received some monies from the workers comp funds, they were precluded from any other remedy. One woman had accepted $36 per week until her daughter turned 16 after being told by the state's lawyers they would be provided for for life. The FVOA ( Forgotten Victims of Attica) only had a political option and once again, a commission was authorized by Gov. Pataki. Hearings were held over the summer of 2002 and once again, the only thing that outweighed the depth of the damages suffered was the perfidy of the state. In January of 2005, the state agreed to $12m of damages - the same amount previously granted to the inmates. However, the state parceled out the money over six years, without interest.
                                                     Although, starting in 1973 NYS led the way with meaningful prison reform, it also led the nation into the era of mandatory minimum sentencing and the criminalization of previously civil matters.  In 1996, Congress passed the Prison Litigation Reform Act, severely restricting prisoners' access to federal courts. The incarceration rates around the country skyrocketed after Attica. NYS had 12,500 prisoners in 1971 and 72,600 by 1999. Both Congress and President Obama have begun to reverse this process. Nonetheless, we still lead the world in the percentage of our population incarcerated.
                                                      The author clearly takes the side of the inmates and  relentlessly, in a manner reminiscent of Robert Caro, pours it on against the state. Although there seem to be points in the narrative where she is more than sympathetic to the inmates' activities, including brutal criminal acts, history has shown that the state treated the inmates horribly, viciously and indifferently murdered them and the hostages during the assault. It  covered it up and cheated throughout all the legal proceedings and follow-up.  I am reminded of the Kerner Commission referring to the events at the 1968 Democratic Convention as a "police riot." This is much more egregious government activity. I also cannot escape pop culture's most famous reference, as far as I know, to the riot, i.e. Al Pacino riling up the Brooklyn crowd with "Attica, Attica" in 'Dog Day Afternoon'. This is a great  history book and one of the most powerful stories I've ever read.

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