[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 149 (2003), Part 12]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 16838-16839]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




         LEGISLATION ADDRESSES SHOCKING PROBLEM OF PRISON RAPE

                                 ______
                                 

                           HON. FRANK R. WOLF

                              of virginia

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, June 26, 2003

  Mr. WOLF. Mr. Speaker, I recently shared with our colleagues several 
personal accounts related by survivors of the brutal and inhumane act 
of sexual assault in our nation's prisons.
  H.R. 1707, the Prison Rape Reduction Act of 2003, focuses attention 
on the growing problem of prison rape. I was pleased to co-author this 
legislation with my Virginia colleague, Rep. Bobby Scott. The bill is 
pending mark-up in the House Judiciary Committee and we are hopeful 
that it will be on the House floor soon. I believe in being tough on 
crime. But this has nothing to do with being tough on crime. It has 
everything to do with human dignity and ending deliberate indifference 
toward sexual assaults in prisons, maintaining order in prisons, and 
reducing social and economic costs to a society left to deal with 
physically and psychologically damaged former inmates.
  Today I want to share additional stories from those whose lives have 
been forever changed by the sexual assaults happening every day in the 
prisons in our country.

       Imagine knowing that someone you love is being repeatedly 
     raped, abused, and degraded and that there is little to 
     nothing that you can do about it.
       For the last two and a half years, my family and I have 
     been paralyzed by this knowledge and our inability to stop 
     the rape and abuse.
       My name is Vivian Edwards and I am here to tell you about 
     my nephew, Roderick Johnson. In my family, he goes by Keith.
       Keith is a Navy veteran and was imprisoned in Marshall, 
     Texas in January of 2000 for a non-violent crime. He wrote a 
     $300 check even though he knew that he did not have the funds 
     to cover this amount, violating the terms of his parole for a 
     burglary that he committed over 10 years ago.
       From the beginning, my nephew knew that being a gay man put 
     him at risk, so he informed prison officials that he was gay 
     in hopes that he would be offered protection. My nephew was 
     offered no protection. While at Allred, he was placed in the 
     general population.
       He might as well have been put in a lions' den. He was 
     immediately given the name ``CoCo'' by the other inmates 
     which made it clear to all inmates that he was available for 
     sexual exploitation. The prison officials also began to call 
     Keith by this nickname and would refer to him as ``she'' or 
     ``her.''
       Keith was raped by a member of the gang called ``Gangster 
     Disciples'' in early October 2000. My nephew informed prison 
     officials about what had happened and that he feared for his 
     life. He asked for medical attention. He was denied help and 
     denied medical assistance. They told him that medical care 
     was only available for an emergency. My nephew was raped! How 
     can someone say that is not an emergency?
       Soon after the rape, things just got worse for my nephew. 
     Hernandez began ``sharing'' Keith with other inmates, and 
     Keith literally became a sex slave.
       Keith wrote to several of his family members from prison. 
     He was afraid to tell most of us that he was being severely 
     sexually abused. But the letters started to change, and he 
     eventually told us what was happening. I can still remember 
     reading the words: ``they make me do things I don't want to 
     do'' and just crying. He told us that he feared for his life.
       We called the prison to find out what was going on. Staff 
     at the prison said they would check into Keith's complaints. 
     They said Keith's complaints didn't warrant an investigation 
     but they would move him to another prison wing. He wasn't 
     safe there either. Other family members and I continued to 
     write and call on Keith's behalf, but nothing ever changed--
     he was never safe.
       During a period of 18 months, Keith appeared before the 
     classification committee of Allred seven times. Each time he 
     asked to be put in protective custody, but his requests were 
     denied each time.
       Each time they denied Keith the protection that he so badly 
     needed, he was sent back to the general population and raped 
     and forced to perform sexual acts against his will. He was 
     traded between various gangs in prison--the Bloods, the 
     Crips, the Tangos, the Mandingo Warriors--and sold out for $5 
     and $10 for sex acts.
       By December of 2001, Keith feared for his life so much that 
     he purposely incurred a serious disciplinary violation. He 
     was given the maximum punishment and received 15 days in 
     solitary confinement. Ironically, this was the first and only 
     protection that he ever received while at Allred. Sadly, 
     though, this punishment also included extending his sentence 
     for more than two more years past the date that he would have 
     been eligible for release.
       After Keith's seventh life endangerment claim, he began 
     writing the ACLU and other outside organizations for 
     assistance. The ACLU National Prison Project came to his 
     rescue. They filed a federal lawsuit on behalf of my nephew 
     against several Texas prison officials that ignored his pleas 
     for protection against gangs who forced him into sexual 
     slavery.
       Keith had asked us to pray for him, and we did. Our prayers 
     were finally answered. He was moved to a safety protection 
     unit soon after the ACLU National Prison Project filed the 
     lawsuit.
       Keith has tested negative for HIV, but still lives in 
     constant fear that he might have contracted other diseases 
     from countless forced sex incidents. Prison rape is a serious 
     crime that not only affects the victim, but also the family. 
     As I said before, my entire family has been horrified and 
     devastated for the past two and a half years because of what 
     has happened to Keith. Today we are praying for Keith, but we 
     are also fighting for him and for every other prisoner that 
     has been a victim of rape while in prison as well.
                                  ____

       I have tried to write this story many times, only to find 
     myself in tears at the thought of recounting the events. But 
     now, years later, I am finding the courage, little by little, 
     to speak out. I pray that this courage will be with me today.
       My name is Hope. In July 1997 I was incarcerated following 
     an arrest for a drug related offense. I had been sent to a 
     rehab facility in Virginia, but because of my extreme 
     withdrawal symptoms from heroin and cocaine, they pulled me 
     out of this facility and sent me, instead, to jail.
       I was sent to the DC jail on no particular charges, but 
     simply because I needed medical attention and was pending 
     indictment. From the DC jail, I was transferred to a medical 
     unit at CCA (a privately contracted jail adjacent to DC 
     jail). This was where anyone with medical concerns, 
     pregnancy, injury, extreme illness, or other debilitating 
     circumstances was sent.
       The unit consisted of male and female inmates. When I got 
     there, I was surprised to realize that male guards were on 
     staff guarding the mixed population. Male guards were allowed 
     to watch us changing, showering, and using the toilet.
       Also to my surprise, male and female inmates were allowed 
     recreational time together on this unit. I met a woman 
     pregnant with her third child all of which were conceived in 
     jail.
       I was denied a shower for more than 2 weeks. When I finally 
     was permitted to have one, the guard came to get me at 3 a.m. 
     He took me to a private, hospital-type room. He proposed I 
     smoke a cigarette with him (smoking was not permitted in this 
     facility). I smoked with him, and this he thought allowed him 
     access to rape me. He attacked me while I was showering.
       I was terrified, and I didn't know what to do. I was in 
     terrible physical condition because of my withdrawal, and I 
     didn't know who would believe me.
       Then, it happened again on a subsequent night. I was doped 
     up on the psych meds that had been prescribed to aid with my 
     withdrawal symptoms. Again, he took me to the shower, and 
     raped me. I was defenseless, and

[[Page 16839]]

     mentally and physically weakened by the drugs. The nurses 
     were asleep in their station 20 feet up the hall, and the 
     relieving guard was on break.
       Afterwards, he gave me back my paper jumpsuit. I was 
     putting it on when another guard entered the room and became 
     extremely suspicious. You'd think this eye-witness would have 
     been enough to prosecute him. But it wasn't. An 
     ``inconclusive'' rape test conducted after my shower meant 
     there was no follow-up.
       Since then, my hands have been tied. I have not been able 
     to prosecute the rapist. I have had no avenue for seeking 
     justice.
       Since my release, I have tried to move on with my life. I 
     am married, I have three children, and I am in school 
     studying to be a Social Worker with a specialty in addictions 
     rehabilitation. But the pain of this experience comes back to 
     me often. I am still struggling to put it behind me.
       To my rapist, I say God will be your judge. I practice 
     daily forgiveness when the mind numbing thoughts won't go 
     away. I pray and I pray to help me get through this. I keep 
     praying because it's my life.
                                  ____

       I will never forget that night in March of 2000.
       That was the night I was raped by a federal prison guard.
       My name is Marilyn Shirley and I am here today as living 
     proof that prisoner rape does happen.
       I was convicted of a drug charge and placed in the Federal 
     Medical Center at Carswell in Fort Worth, Texas from January 
     12, 1998 until September 10, 2000.
       While in prison, I took all of the required Bureau of 
     Prisons courses--from substance abuse prevention classes to 
     classes that taught me job skills. I never once had an 
     incident report written against me. In fact, I was rewarded 
     with time credited for good behavior. Upon my release, I 
     walked away with a $250 check from the Bureau of Prisons and 
     a permanently devastated emotional and mental state as a 
     result of my rape.
       On that night in March 2000, I was woken up at 
     approximately 3:30 a.m. by prison guard Michael Miller, a 
     Senior Officer of the Bureau of Prisons. He told me, in the 
     presence of my roommates, that I was wanted at the officer's 
     station.
       I was scared to death that they'd called me because 
     something had happened to my husband who had heart problems 
     and diabetes, or to my twins.
       I could not have been more wrong. I should have feared for 
     my own safety. After entering the officer's station, Miller 
     made a phone call stating that if a Lieutenant heads for the 
     Camp to give him the ``signal.''
       After hanging up the phone, Miller started forcing himself 
     on me, kissing me and groping my breasts. I was pushed into a 
     storeroom where supplies were kept for the inmates. He 
     continued to assault me; the more that I begged and pleaded 
     for him to stop, the more violent he became. He tried to 
     force me to perform oral sex on him. He then threw me against 
     the wall and violently raped me.
       I can still remember him whispering in my ear during the 
     rape: ``Do you think you're the only one? Don't even think of 
     telling, because it's your word against mine, and you will 
     lose.'' Miller also said to me ``who do you think they will 
     believe, an inmate or a fine upstanding officer like me?''
       The ordeal was finally over after Miller received the 
     abrupt signal of someone clearing their throat over his 
     radio, signaling that someone was coming. I later learned 
     there are no security cameras in the officer's station.
       After returning to my room, I took off my sweatpants and 
     put them in plastic and hid them in my locker.
       Soon after, I confided in an Officer of the Bureau of 
     Prisons, who was my welding boss, that Officer Miller had 
     raped me. I asked her not to tell anyone because I didn't 
     want anything to interfere with my release date, as I was 
     afraid of what Miller would do to me if I reported it. I also 
     told one of my roommates, and I swore her to secrecy, too.
       I stayed silent for months. Having nowhere to hide, I went 
     to sleep every night not knowing if he was going to come for 
     me again. Following the rape, Officer Miller harassed, 
     intimidated and threatened me in many direct and indirect 
     ways.
       I lived in fear, until I was released from prison in 
     September 2000. That day, I brought my sweatpants to the 
     Carswell camp administrator and told her about the rape. I 
     gave statements and answered questions. The semen stained 
     sweatpants were taken as evidence to the FBI Crime Lab. I was 
     then given a lie detector test, which I passed.
       Just recently, about three years after my release, a 
     federal jury found Officer Miller guilty of rape finding that 
     my civil rights were indeed violated. Meanwhile, Michael 
     Miller is still under criminal investigation. I owe a lot to 
     my attorneys who believed in me and my family who supported 
     me.
       Miller has continued to work as a corrections officer with 
     the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Even after I reported the 
     rape, he was only transferred to a men's prison. I cannot 
     believe that this rapist is getting paid with people's tax 
     dollars; it's not right.
       Back in 1998, preparing to enter prison was one of the 
     hardest things that I ever had to do. But, now that I am out, 
     I am left with paralyzing panic attacks, awful nightmares, 
     and a terrible state of depression all of the time.
       Rape should not have been part of my punishment. Though I 
     am still struggling with the emotional damage I have suffered 
     from this rape, it is important for me to speak out. With 
     God's help, I get strength from knowing that if I refuse to 
     remain silent, maybe others won't have to suffer this way. 
     Thank you for listening, and, please, let's work together to 
     end this injustice.

                          ____________________