To protect the identity of certain individuals, names/details herein have been omitted/changed.
The reporting officer’s incident report stated:
“On July 24, 2011, at approximately 8:36p.m., while assigned as the Unit 5-B officer, I observed numerous inmates looking towards the stairs in front of Cell 106. I went to the area and observed inmate Pitts, Edgar, reg.no.04616-084, pacing back and forth with what appeared to be blood on his face. I notified control that a fight had taken place in Unit 5-B and announced for the unit to lockdown. As I approached Cell 101 to begin securing the unit, I observed inmate Dallas, Evan, reg.no. XXXXX-XXX, lying on the ground with his head on the side of the stairs. Dallas appeared unconscious and with blood on his face. Inmate Pitts was jumping up and down on Dallas’s upper body. I gave inmate Pitts a direct order to stop his actions and lockdown. Inmate Pitts continued his actions and ignored all orders. I ran toward inmate Pitts and attempted to stop and restrain him. Inmate Pitts shoved me backwards and stated, ‘Don’t touch me Mother Fucker, don’t fucking touch me!’ Responding staff secured the unit and escorted inmate Dallas to Medical on a gurney and was then transported to a local medical facility where he was pronounced dead at 9:52p.m. from injuries sustained during the altercation with inmate Pitts.
The staff rep interviewed inmate witnesses on the situation and he states inmate witness Regis stated, ‘the deceased started the situation, Pitts was verbally and physically attacked.’ Inmate Davis states, ‘the deceased assaulted Pitts first.’”
January 9, 2015
Dear Hon. Judge Chaplin,
My name is Edgar Pitts. I’m the defendant who pled guilty to voluntary manslaughter in your courtroom on December 1, 2014. I’m scheduled to be sentenced on February 23, 2015. I’m therefore writing you this letter with the hope of gaining your understanding before you sentence me.
Sir, I’ve been in prison for almost 21-years now, ever since I was 19. I was sentenced to 49-years for crack cocaine and guns. And, in another case, I was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole for murder. With this amount of time, some may say that I have nothing to lose. But I’m responsible and mature enough to know that I have the possibility of a better life to lose. Because I have hope and dreams of someday getting out of prison to build a family of my own.
And, even though my conduct may at times seem to contradict my life’s mission, I’ve been trying to avoid problems by focusing on fighting my cases and by avoiding petty jailhouse politics. I’ve apologized to others even when I was clearly in the right. But I did so to nip issues in the bud that could have turned into problems, even when it wasn’t popular to do so in a predatory environment like prison.
Since I’ve been incarcerated, I’ve only had three fights. And, unfortunately, my last fight caused the death of a human being. But that night, when I approached Evan Dallas, it wasn’t to start any problems. It was simply to let him know that if he had any contraband in the cell that he should remove it before we locked down. I knew about wine getting busted by the police in the laundry room. And I knew that if the whole unit suspected him of putting the wine in the laundry room, then the police most definitely would have known also. So, after we had lockdown, they would have come to search our cell. To avoid being caught with contraband in the cell, I wanted him to clear the cell of all contrabands, if any (knives, wine kicker, etc.).
Sir, when I first moved into the cell with Dallas there were times when I couldn’t enter the cell. This was because Dallas and other inmates would be in there with the door closed and the window covered. I then came to realize that the cell was being used by a network of inmates to hide contraband, so I immediately stated my objection to Dallas. I told him that I had just finished the Special Management Unit (SMU) Program and I couldn’t afford to get caught up in anything wrong because I would be sent right back to the SMU. He said that he understood. So we both agreed that the cell would be contraband-free.
When I arrived at Atwater from the SMU, my goals were clear to me. Since I hadn’t had any contact visits since 1995, I was determined to do so. And I made this clear to all those who I talked to. My time was spent on the phone, emailing poetry or writing letters to my mother and girlfriend, all in preparation for those expected visits.
I made it my business to stay away from the petty jailhouse politics at Atwater. So, on the day that the wine was discovered in the laundry room by the police, I stayed out of the unit. I did this because I’d seen Dallas sitting in front of the cell with an angry look on his face. Then I heard him say, not to anyone in particular, that “somebody was telling.” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about then, but I felt like something was wrong. So I left the unit and went to the Rastafarian feast that was taking place that day. And I hoped that whatever was wrong would be over by the time that I returned to the unit.
I stayed at the Rastafarian feast until I had to return to the unit for count. I didn’t detect any tension. But I was too busy trying to get access to the computer to check my email to notice. When we locked down for count, Dallas didn’t say much to me. And I was using the cell time to continue to write a letter that I had started earlier.
After the count, I went directly to the computer to email my girlfriend a poem I had promised her. My entire day revolved around things that were beyond the prison walls. I wasn’t interested in any penitentiary gossip, slander campaigns, or backbiting. I spent my days writing poems and letters to my girl, all in preparation for my first contact visit since 1995.
So, later that evening, I went to the recreation room to take some pictures for my mother and my girlfriend. The politics that were taking place in the unit over the wine weren’t even on my mind. As a matter of fact, I was oblivious to who was involved with it, nor did I care. Because it wasn’t any of my business. My mind was on the letter that I hadn’t finished writing, and on the email that I had sent my girl. I was wondering if I was going to have any messages on the computer when I returned to the unit.
When I did return to the unit, I went straight to the computer to check my messages. I’m not sure if I had any. But after I checked my email I went to my cell. But I didn’t enter. Instead, I stood in front of the cell and talked to several inmates. They were the ones who gave me the details of what was taking place in the unit throughout the day.
They told me that Dallas had placed a bag of wine in the laundry room, and now the room was off-limits to inmates until someone took responsibility for it. Like I said, this was none of my business. So I didn’t care about the unit’s lack of access to the laundry room.
But I then realized that, before he had placed the wine in the laundry room, he had had it in our cell. Now this was my business. Because, if the wine would have been found in our cell, then I would have been in jeopardy of being placed in the SHU for making wine also – and, for me, that would have meant a potential return to the SMU, and the loss of my contact visit privileges.
So, when I approached Dallas, it was to make sure that my privileges were safe. I didn’t care about what he did outside of the cell. I was only concerned about what he did in the cell and what he may have been hiding in the cell.
This is what I was explaining to him when he attacked me. He punched me in the mouth and I fell in between the toilet and the wall. I was dazed and confused. Several inmates entered the cell and came between us. And, before I was able to completely recover from the attack, they exited the cell. One of them was laughing. I’m not sure who. But it was obvious that he was laughing at me. Dallas then started to say that “I will beat your bitch ass in here all night.”
He began to throw his punches while calling me a rat and accusing me of being the one who told the police about his wine. I was mainly just blocking his punches. Several other inmates came into the cell but I couldn’t recognize who they were. Then somebody grabbed my dreads. I didn’t know who it was, but I knew that it wasn’t Dallas. That was when I really started to fight. I pushed Dallas away. Then I punched him in the face. He fell and I followed up by kicking him.
After being labeled a rat by Dallas, I believed that I was going to have to fight the entire unit. So, my reluctance to fight was replaced by survival instincts and anger. I was angry because I knew that I was being assaulted, labeled a rat, and threatened with more harm for something that I didn’t do, and for something that was none of my business.
I began to fight because I felt like my life depended on it. I wasn’t going to second-guess the intention of a man to do me harm when he was already attacking me while still threatening me with more harm.
He said that he was going to beat my ass all night, and I believed him. He said that I was a rat, and I believed that’s what he believed. The penalty for being a rat in the penitentiary is anything from being beaten, stabbed, or killed. So I wasn’t going to underestimate his threats.
But my intention wasn’t to kill him. I only intended to protect myself. My main focus was my own safety that was being jeopardized by him.
After he labeled me a rat, I believed that, as long as I remained in that unit, my life would have been in danger. So I fought.
When I exited the cell, I wasn’t sure what was going on. I didn’t know who was going to attack me because, in the penitentiary, that’s the nature of conflicts. You may think that you’re fighting one man until somebody else puts a knife in your back. I was new to Atwater, and I was new to that unit. I was only there for about 30-days. So that made me the ‘new guy’. And usually it’s the ‘new guy’ who gets hurt.
I’m not trying to justify the way that I handled the situation. I’m merely stating my side of the story. It’s a story that I wish I didn’t have to tell. It’s a story that I regret.
I knew that if I was caught in the cell I would be more vulnerable to being attacked by others. So I stayed in front of the cell making loud noises by screaming, “Fuck Atwater politics. Blood Gang.” I did this to alert the police, while discouraging others from attacking me.
As I was pacing back and forth, I saw the police. I made sure I looked him directly in the face to make sure he would see my injuries. But he looked at me and smiled. I then thought he was going to let the unit explode. And, if that had occurred, then I would have most definitely been harmed.
So, I dragged Dallas out of the cell and stomped on his chest. I did this to force the police to alert his emergency team.
There’s a saying that goes, “Nothing in the penitentiary makes sense.” And this case is a prime example of that. As I reflect on my actions that night, I now realize that I could have, and should have, done mostly everything differently. But I didn’t. My intention was to avoid getting caught up in something that was none of my business. But, instead, I ended up with a problem that was even worse than getting sent back to the SMU for wine.
Like I said, I have the possibility of a better life to lose. I haven’t given up on life. I still have hopes and dreams. And I’ve grown to realize that I’m the only one to blame for my current condition. It doesn’t matter how unfair my trials may have been. It’s obvious that I’ve made some bad and tragic decisions in my life. And since this is my life and nobody else’s, it is I who must take the responsibility to fix what I don’t like about my life’s condition.
And this is what is so tragic about this case. Life is precious. It represents potential, dreams, and hope. So, when it is lost, potential is lost, dreams vanish, and hope dies. I say this because I want you to understand that I’m not a savage who was on a rampage. I love life. And it is only in respecting the lives of others that I will be able to enjoy mine. That’s just part of being a civilized human being. And I know that I’m civilized despite my condition.
Sir, since I’ve been doing time, this has been my struggle: I’m always striving to rise above my condition. And when I was being escorted to the SHU after the incident, nobody had to tell me that I had failed. It was obvious to me. Then I was told that Dallas had died. I was angry at myself. And I was also angry at him. Because we both contributed to the escalation of something that was so simple. And the stupidity is made more apparent when we consider the fact that wine or pruno is nothing but spoiled fruit.
But, for me, it was never about the wine. Because it was none of my business. It was about protecting my privileges. Then, after he attacked me and accused me of being a rat, it became a fight to defend my life. The tragedy and the sadness of this case lie in its contradiction.
I never received that contact visit. As a matter of fact, all of the privileges that came with being in general population were taken away. And I was placed in the SHU under conditions that were harsher than the ADX. Here I’m not exaggerating. I did about eight years in the ADX, so I’m aware of the differences between the ADX and Atwater’s SHU.
At the ADX prisoners are given a T.V.; they can wear their personal clothes, tennis shoes, thermo, and sweat suit. They can take pictures to send to their loved ones. They have better access to commissary. They can also participate in religious, educational, and recreational programs over the T.V.
In the SHU at Atwater, the lights in the cell are turned on at about six in the morning and turned off at about nine-thirty at night. But at the ADX, prisoners can turn their lights off and on as needed. In Atwater’s SHU, prisoners must rotate to a different cell every 21-days, but at the ADX it was every 90-days. It has been a tradition in prison for inmates to receive a bag of assorted candy and food items at Christmas. But in the SHU at Atwater, prisoners are denied this humanitarian gift, a gift even the ADX offers to its inmates.
The ADX was designed to house inmates over a prolonged period of time. But the SHU wasn’t designed with such intentions. Usually a prisoner is held in the SHU for about three- to six-months, or up to one-year, before they must be transferred or released to a general population. But I was held in the SHU for over three years before I was indicted under conditions that some courts have held to present “atypical and significant hardships”.
I have filed several complaints challenging the conditions in Atwater’s SHU. In one complaint, I requested that I be granted, not all, but some of the privileges inmates at the ADX were enjoying. In another complaint, I requested that I be granted access to California state legal material needed for me to challenge my state convictions. Then I requested I be granted a diet that complies with my religious beliefs. But all of my complaints were denied by the warden.
Here, I’m not endorsing the ADX over the SHU. Because I was there before. So, when the experts in the mental health field describe the ADX as being harmful to the minds of prisoners, I agree. I’ve experienced that harm myself, and I’ve witnessed how other inmates were harmed by being housed at the ADX. In comparing the SHU to the ADX, I’m merely trying to describe how punitive the SHU has been to me.
And yet, after I’m sentenced, I will be returned to the SHU where I will be considered for a possible ADX placement, which would be excessively harsh when considering that I’ve already spent over three years in isolation. Also, the ADX referral process takes about a year to complete. So, if I’m further penalized with ADX placement, I will have spent over four years in the SHU before I’m designated to the ADX to begin the expected five years control unit program, which would further my isolation to about nine years.
I would therefore be punished more harshly than other prisoners who have been placed at the ADX for similar crimes, but were promptly prosecuted. Thus, allowing them to finish their time at the ADX without being unreasonably held back in the SHU.
Here, I was arbitrarily held in the SHU for over three years before I was indicted. The prosecution could have presented this case to the grand jury several months after the incident occurred, because the same evidence that is available now was also available then. But, instead, the prosecution sat on the case while I suffered in the SHU.
Sir, when you sentence me, if you may find the following facts to be mitigating, please take them into consideration:
1) I wasn’t engaged in any illegal activities. Instead, I was taking advantage of the privileges that Atwater had to offer: phone, email, recreation, writing, etc.
2) Dallas was engaged in illegal activities. He and his network were making wine to sell, which is a violation of prison policy.
3) He attacked me to protect his illegal activities; and, while attacking me, he accused me of being responsible for sinking his operation.
4) I was held in the SHU for three years by the Assistant United States Attorney before I was indicted, under conditions that were more punitive than the ADX. This three-year delay caused me to suffer “atypical and significant hardships.” Thus, making my time in the SHU cumulative, separate, and distinct from my original sentence. I’m therefore requesting that I be given credit for the three-plus years that I was held in the SHU.
5) I accepted responsibility when I pled guilty. It wasn’t my intention to kill Dallas, but he is dead and it’s due to my actions. This issue could have, and should have, been avoided. I’m sorry that it ended in such a tragic way.
6) The prison’s policy of group punishment to flush out the culprit created a tense and dangerous environment that contributed to the escalation of events which forced Dallas to attack me as a scapegoat.
In any event, thanks for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Edgar Pitts
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