Pubdate: Wed, 19 Aug 2015
Source: New York Times (NY)
Copyright: 2015 The New York Times Company
Contact: http://www.nytimes.com/ref/membercenter/help/lettertoeditor.html
Website: http://www.nytimes.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/298
Authors: Michael Winerip and Michael Schwirtz
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/prison.htm (Incarceration)

PRISON GUARD 'BEAT UP SQUAD' BLAMED IN DEATH

On the evening of April 21 in Building 21 at the Fishkill 
Correctional Facility, Samuel Harrell, an inmate with a history of 
erratic behavior linked to bipolar disorder, packed his bags and 
announced he was going home, though he still had several years left 
to serve on his drug sentence.

Not long after, he got into a confrontation with corrections 
officers, was thrown to the floor and was handcuffed. As many as 20 
officers - including members of a group known around the prison as 
the Beat Up Squad - repeatedly kicked and punched Mr. Harrell, who is 
black, with some of them shouting racial slurs, according to more 
than a dozen inmate witnesses. "Like he was a trampoline, they were 
jumping on him," said Edwin Pearson, an inmate who watched from a 
nearby bathroom.

Mr. Harrell was then thrown or dragged down a staircase, according to 
the inmates' accounts. One inmate reported seeing him lying on the 
landing, "bent in an impossible position."

"His eyes were open," the inmate wrote, "but they weren't looking at anything."

Corrections officers called for an ambulance, but according to 
medical records, the officers mentioned nothing about a physical 
encounter. Rather, the records showed, they told the ambulance crew 
that Mr. Harrell probably had an overdose of K2, a synthetic marijuana.

He was taken to St. Luke's Cornwall Hospital and at 10:19 p.m. was 
pronounced dead.

In the four months since, state corrections officials have provided 
only the barest details about what happened at Fishkill, a 
medium-security prison in Beacon, N.Y., about 60 miles north of New 
York City. Citing a continuing investigation by the State Police, 
officials for weeks had declined to comment on the inmates' accounts 
of a beating.

An autopsy report by the Orange County medical examiner, obtained by 
The New York Times, concluded that Mr. Harrell, 30, had cuts and 
bruises to the head and extremities and had no illicit drugs in his 
system, only an antidepressant and tobacco. He died of cardiac 
arrhythmia, the autopsy report said, "following physical altercation 
with corrections officers."

The manner of death: Homicide.

Previous Reports of Violence

No officers have been disciplined in connection with the death, 
officials said. A classification of homicide is a medical term that 
indicates the death occurred at the hands of other people, but it 
does not necessarily mean a crime was committed.

Inmate witnesses at Fishkill say they are the ones who have been 
punished. Several described being put into solitary confinement and 
threatened with violence after speaking with Mr. Harrell's family, 
their lawyers and with news reporters.

The Times documented similar allegations of abuse from inmates at the 
Clinton Correctional Facility in Dannemora, N.Y., where in June two 
convicted murderers escaped, resulting in a three-week manhunt. 
There, inmates described being beaten and choked with plastic bags by 
corrections officers seeking information about the escapees. Many 
were then thrown into solitary confinement.

The prison building where Mr. Harrell was housed has long been 
singled out as a violent place. In 2013, the Correctional Association 
of New York, a 171-year-old inmate advocacy group with a legislative 
mandate to inspect New York State prisons, published a report 
documenting "harassment and provocation" by officers working in 
Building 21 from 3 to 11 p.m. This was the same time frame when Mr. 
Harrell died. The association, which found similar problems in 2005, 
briefed officials with the Department of Corrections and Community 
Supervision in fall 2013, including the acting commissioner, Anthony 
Annucci, as well as Fishkill's superintendent, William J. Connolly, 
who resigned this month.

Even so, inmates said, the problems have persisted. Five weeks before 
Mr. Harrell's death, David Martinez, an inmate in Building 21 who was 
serving time for attempted murder, among other charges, filed a 
grievance saying he was being assaulted and harassed by officers, and 
asking that the officers on that shift "be split up." In a subsequent 
letter, he described them as "a group of rogue officers" who "go 
around beating up people."

In July, another inmate, Rickey Rodriguez, said that officers beat 
him so severely that he lost his two front teeth and had to be 
hospitalized. Interviewed a little more than a week after he was 
released from prison, Mr. Rodriguez, who was serving time for 
attempted murder, was still covered with cuts and bruises, and the 
white of his right eye was stained red with blood. "They go out of 
their way to pick and choose to beat on guys," he said.

The State Police plan to turn over the evidence gathered to the 
Dutchess County district attorney's office "in the very near future," 
said Beau Duffy, an agency spokesman. The corrections department said 
it was cooperating with the State Police.

"Anyone found to have engaged in any misconduct or in any legal 
violations will be disciplined and prosecuted," the department said 
in a statement.

The Times pieced together the events leading to Mr. Harrell's death 
from 19 affidavits and letters written by inmates and obtained 
through the law firm Beldock Levine & Hoffman, which is representing 
Mr. Harrell's family. Most of the inmates shared their affidavits on 
the condition that their names not be used, because they said they 
feared retribution from corrections officers. Three agreed to be 
interviewed with their names made public.

According to Luna Droubi, a lawyer at the firm, at least nine of the 
inmates who saw what happened had been placed at some point in 
solitary confinement. She said that the firm would soon file a 
lawsuit in connection with the death, and that there was a need for 
the appointment of a special prosecutor to investigate.

The inmates witnessed the encounter from several vantage points, 
including a day room and bathroom just a few feet away. Two described 
being at the bottom of the staircase and seeing Mr. Harrell come falling down.

Inmate witnesses are typically viewed with skepticism by 
investigators, but the accounts from Fishkill are strikingly 
consistent. Inmates there are serving sentences for felonies, such as 
drug crimes and murder, but have earned the right to take part in 
programs like work-release.

Mental Illness

No one could say for sure what set off the confrontation with Mr. 
Harrell. There were no surveillance cameras in that area, according 
to inmates, and corrections officials acknowledged that there are 
only a few for the entire prison.

James Miller, a spokesman for the corrections officers' union, the 
New York State Correctional Officers & Police Benevolent Association, 
said in an email last month that Mr. Harrell was "acting violently 
and appeared delusional as a result of apparently ingesting drugs." 
While trying to subdue him, one guard had several ribs broken, Mr. Miller said.

Officials have described abuse of K2 by inmates as a problem 
throughout the state prison system.

On Monday, Mr. Miller wrote in an email that the union was "reviewing 
all the facts before rushing to judgment."

"Rather than simply relying on allegations made by a handful of 
violent convicted felons," he wrote, "we will continue to work with 
our partners in law enforcement to ensure a resolution to this tragic 
incident."

Mr. Harrell had served several stints in prison for drug crimes 
starting in 2002. He had five disciplinary infractions while 
incarcerated, including one days before his death for possessing 
contraband, according to prison records. None involved violence.

Inmates and family members say that any erratic behavior more likely 
stemmed from his mental illness. In the weeks before his death, they 
said, he had been depressed. In 2010 he learned he had bipolar 
disorder and was hospitalized, according to medical records. His 
wife, Diane Harrell, said that when he was not taking his medication, 
he would go through the house turning over family photographs for 
fear they were staring at him. He also believed the television was 
talking to him, she said.

Mr. Harrell also had a history of heart disease and drug abuse, which 
the autopsy report said contributed to his death.

The day he died, several inmates described him as being depressed and 
withdrawn. Ibrahim Camara said he found Mr. Harrell sitting alone, 
watching television and asked what was wrong. "I said, 'Is it your 
mom, family or something?' " Mr. Camara recalled in a phone interview 
from prison. "He shook his head yes." Mr. Harrell's mother had died 
in November.

Around 8:30 that night, Mr. Harrell - whose nickname was JRock - told 
two officers that his wife and sister were coming to pick him up and 
take him home, according to one inmate's affidavit.

His earliest release date from prison was September 2020.

The officers called for medical and mental health assistance but 
could not reach anyone, the inmate reported. Soon after, the inmate 
said that two more officers arrived. "I believe JRock panicked after 
seeing all those officers surrounding him," the inmate wrote. "JRock 
jumped up and ran."

Mr. Camara said he was in the day room, watching a playoff game 
between the Boston Celtics and Cleveland Cavaliers, when he heard a 
commotion in the hallway. "Me and other inmates, we hear the walls 
shaking, doom, doom, doom, doom," he recalled. "Somebody opened up 
the door and looked outside, and said, 'Yo, that's JRock they got out there.' "

He was on the floor, face down and handcuffed, several inmates said. 
In short order, a large group of officers converged around him. The 
inmates in their affidavits and letters identified nine officers by 
name as being involved.

"I saw the officers kicking him, jumping on his head multiple times 
and screaming, 'Stop resisting,' even though I didn't see him 
moving," wrote Mr. Pearson, who has since been released after serving 
two years on a weapons charge.

None of the affidavits or letters mentioned Mr. Harrell's fighting 
back or speaking during the encounter. Several said that once he was 
on the floor, handcuffed, he stopped moving, and a few of the inmates 
speculated he may have already been dead by then.

Indeed, Mr. Camara said inmates were surprised that Mr. Harrell, who 
was over six feet tall and weighed 235 pounds, did not try to defend 
himself. "People was even mad, I was mad," he said. "You're a big guy 
and you let these people literally kill you."

The inmates said that during the encounter, an officer they 
identified as Robert Michels appeared to have a medical emergency. 
Mr. Pearson, who later identified Officer Michels through a Facebook 
photo, said he saw the officer "rip open his shirt and he was gasping 
for air and grabbing his chest."

Officers went to attend to Officer Michels, who was soon carried out 
on a stretcher, inmates said.

Identifying the Guards

While Mr. Harrell lay still on the floor, officers periodically 
walked by, kicking him and hitting him, Mr. Camara said.

Most of the inmates could identify the officers by last names only, 
which they spelled in a variety of ways in their affidavits. In a 
database of New York State employees, SeeThroughNY.net, there are 
several Fishkill officers who appeared to match the guards most often 
named by the inmates as being directly involved in the encounter. 
They are Thomas Dickenson (named by 10 of the inmates), John Yager 
(10), Officer Michels (nine), Bryan Eull (five) and a white woman 
they knew only as "Ms. B" (four).

They also identified the ranking officer at the scene as Sgt. Joseph 
Guarino. Reached by telephone, Sergeant Guarino confirmed he was 
present that night but said he could not comment.

Neither the corrections department nor the union would confirm the 
names of the officers. Reached by phone, several of the officers 
declined to comment. Others did not respond to voice mail messages, 
emails or messages sent through Facebook.

Through the years, Sergeant Guarino, 60, has been sued several times 
by inmates accusing him of brutality. One case was settled by the 
state in 2012 for $60,000 and another in 2011 for $65,000. In a 2011 
deposition, he said inmates typically filed about 30 grievances 
against him a year and referred to him by the nickname Sergeant Searchalot.

Four inmates wrote that after Officer Michels was taken away, they 
heard Sergeant Guarino order officers to throw Mr. Harrell down the stairs.

"Harrell came rolling sideways down the stairs," Mr. Martinez wrote, 
adding that he had a "bedsheet tied all around his body and he was in 
mechanical restraints."

Mr. Martinez said that two officers he identified as Mr. Eull and Mr. 
Dickenson then tried to put Mr. Harrell into a wheelchair but had 
difficulty lifting him.

Mr. Harrell, he wrote, "was not responsive at all" and "kept sliding 
off the wheelchair."

Another inmate who was nearby said that Officer Eull ordered him to 
stop looking, and then grabbed him and pushed him into a corner. "He 
then told me, 'You better forget what you saw here if you ever want 
to make it home,' " the affidavit said.

An inmate looking out of his cell wrote that he saw Mr. Harrell being 
taken away. The inmate wrote that he had seen 10 to 15 corrections 
officers "surrounding a wheelchair being wheeled out of the building 
with a white sheet draped over a body that could have been naked 
because I seen bare feet dragging on the ground."

According to records from the ambulance service, a call came 
reporting a possible overdose at the Fishkill prison at 9:16 p.m.; 
the ambulance team arrived there at 9:30 p.m. and reached Mr. Harrell 
by 9:34 p.m. "Staff reports that pt. was possibly smoking K2 and 
became very aggressive, shortly after he went unresponsive and into 
cardiac arrest," the records said.

The next morning at 7:30, Mr. Harrell's sister, Cerissa Harrell, 
received an anonymous call from an inmate in Building 21.

"He called me and said, 'Sam got hit the night before and they took 
him and he hasn't been back and nobody has heard or seen from him,' " 
Ms. Harrell said.

"You could hear the franticness in his voice," she added.

A half-hour later, she said, someone from the corrections agency 
called to say her brother was dead.

Susan C. Beachy contributed research.
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MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom