With life in prison comes death in prison

In November I’ll turn 90! I suppose it’s natural, then, that my thoughts about death increase, along with my age. 

Like many of you, I’ve experienced death of loved ones over the years: grandparents, parents, in-laws, a sister, a spouse. But that is not what's on my mind these days. For the past three decades I have been working with men and women who live behind bars. As the founder of HUMANITY FOR PRISONERS it has been my goal to produce an annual memorial service for those persons who died in custody in the previous year. Here in Michigan, that number can range from 130 – 200. 

This year that proposed service is finally going to become a reality! An HFP committee is diligently working to make it happen. 

As I research the topic and compile materials for such a service, I am especially saddened by the number of men and women who have no family or friends at the time of death. Last year, for example, no one claimed the remains of 32 prisoners. With no fanfare, no service, no memorials, no eulogies, their ashes were buried at the Michigan Department of Corrections' “Potter’s Field:” a private cemetery on prison grounds in Jackson. The first burials at that site happened in the early 1930’s.  As of today there are over 1,200 individuals buried there. 

That prompts me to share this poem written by Justin Cantwell, a writer incarcerated in California: 

If I died today, would anyone grieve for me tomorrow?

Is there someone who cares enough to express

sadness and sorrow?

 

If I died today, would anyone remember my face, or would I

just fade away without a trace?

 

If I died today, would anyone need to be consoled with a

hug or would I be cast away before my grave could

even be dug?

 

If I died today, would anyone tell stories about my life?

Will they reminisce on good times we shared

and stow away all the strife?

 

If I died today, would anyone stain their cheeks with

tears? I often wonder, does anyone realize that these

are just a few of my fears?

 

I’m writing this essay on the National Day of Prayer. To all who live in a free society I ask that you remember in prayer all incarcerated men and women, especially those who are facing death…especially those who will have no one to hold their hand in their final hours. 

"To die in prison is to be forgotten, a ghost among the living."

Mumia Abu-Jamal

 

The HFP memorial service will be our effort to assure all behind bars, especially the lonely and the forgotten, that they matter!



Comments

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