Fearing Covid-19, Inmates Seek Release

Fair Havener Thaddeus Lowery has asthma, a bullet wedged in his lung, stomach woes from a prior gunshot wound, and state permission to move from prison to a halfway house for time served on his nonviolent offense.

But the 34-year-old city native remains locked up —not because of bad behavior, but because the Covid-19 pandemic has paralyzed the state judicial and prison systems.

Lowery is currently incarcerated at the Willard-Cybulski Correctional Institution, a state-run prison two dozen miles north of Hartford near the Massachusetts border.

He and his lawyer are currently petitioning for his freedom by making arguments similar to those made by dozens of other Connecticut inmates and lawyers in two ongoing federal class action lawsuits and one recently dismissed state class action lawsuit.

All of those legal actions allege that Connecticut’s prisons have become dangerous breeding grounds for the novel coronavirus and that the state must expedite the release of inmates, particularly those with pre-existing medical conditions.

Incarcerated New Haveners like Lowery, Chaz Gulley, and Robert Miller (see below) have all started speaking up publicly about their experiences behind bars during this pandemic — sometimes indirectly through their lawyers and family members, sometimes directly through first-person affidavits filed in state and federal court.

“For the same reasons that we can’t just put people in prison cells with cobras and let them fend for themselves, we can’t put people in prison cells with Covid and let them fend for themselves,” Lowery’s attorney, local civil rights lawyer Alex Taubes, told the Independent Wednesday.

Lowery’s wife Veronica told the Independent ​“it’s been really hard, stressful, overwhelming” to know that her husband is still locked up, even as the pandemic has spread throughout Connecticut’s prison system at higher rates than among the general public over the past month.

“You don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said. ​“You don’t. It’s really frightening, and it’s been hard.”

State Department of Correction Director of External Affairs Karen Martucci declined to comment on the active litigation. In past court filings in the state and federal suits, state lawyers and the state Attorney General have argued that the various plaintiffs lawyers do not have legal standing to pursue the various class action suits filed on behalf of Connecticut inmates. 

The state Department of Correction has also pointed to its release of hundreds of inmates over the past month as well as its relocation of all Covid-19 prisoners to the state maximum security prison, Northern Correctional Institution.

As of this week, according to the a motion for a temporary restraining order filed by Connecticut ACLU on Tuesday in its federal class action suit, 382 prisoners in Connecticut have tested positive for the novel coronavirus, as have 310 staff members, and three prisoners have died from the virus.

“Unconstitutionally Cruel And Unusual”

According to state judicial records, Lowery has been held in Enfield since mid-2018, when he pleaded guilty to two felony counts of selling illegal drugs and was sentenced to six years in jail, with execution suspended after 30 months to be followed by three years on probation.

On April 17, Taubes filed a petition in federal court calling for Lowery’s immediate release from prison because of the state’s alleged violation of the U.S. Constitution’s Eighth Amendment, which prohibits cruel and unusual punishment. Click here to read that petition.

Lowery has pre-existing medical conditions, Taubes argued in his court petition and in a phone interview with the Independent Wednesday, thereby making him more vulnerable than most to suffer serious injury or even death if he contracts the highly infectious respiratory disease caused by the novel coronavirus.

Lowery — and his fellow cellmates — are also living in allegedly uniquely dangerous conditions: ​“Dormitory-style” housing of eight prisoners per room. A lack of adequate medical staff and personal protective equipment at the prison. Limited access to cleaning supplies like hand sanitizer and soap. The shuttling in and out of sick prisoners and staff. And the impossibility of practicing six-foot social distancing when in a cell, in the shower, or on the prison telephone.

On top of all of that, Taubes said, the state has already approved Lowery’s transition to a halfway house because the prison is near his ​“maximum release date” of Dec. 14, 2020.

But halfway houses are no longer accepting new inmates at this time because of the pandemic. And the sole state court that accepts habeas corpus petitions, in the judicial district of Tolland, is closed and not hearing cases — also because of the pandemic.

“The conditions at Willard-Cybulski have become unconstitutionally cruel and unusual because of the likely almost certain exposure of Mr. Lowery to the coronavirus,” Taubes said Wednesday. ​“No one belongs in that kind of an environment.”

Lowery’s wife, Veronica, told the Independent that her husband has a home to return to, a family to return to, and even a job waiting with his family’s moving company, if he is released from prison.

“I feel like he’s done everything they’ve asked of him,” she said. ​“He’s done two programs there. He’s been employed. He hasn’t had any conflicts with anyone. He’s been good the whole time. He’s been approved for the halfway house, and he has family that’s willing to take him in.”

She said that during her regular phone calls with Lowery, he has told her that ​“it’s really filthy” at the prison. He said he can’t practice social distancing, rarely has access to tissues or other cleaning materials, and has been exposed several times to people who are either symptomatic or confirmed to have Covid-19.

Taubes noted in a letter he filed Tuesday with federal Judge Janet Bond Arterton that ​“today, two men who had previously tested positive for Covid-19 were transferred from Northern CI into [Lowery’s] room. Neither individual was tested again for Covid-19 before being transferred to [Lowery’s] room.”

Taubes said that Lowery is still in a cell with seven other inmates, and that the state never gave him a reason as to why two coronavirus-positive inmates were transferred to his room.

Taubes was asked how he feels about Lowery remaining behind bars even as a state judge has ordered the temporary release from prison of Daniel Greer, a prominent New Haven rabbi who was convicted last year of repeatedly sexually assaulting a teenage student. Taubes applauded both the judge, Jon Alander, and Greer’s attorney, David Grudberg, for recognizing ​“the near death sentence that incarceration imposes on people because of the coronavirus crisus.”

Taubes said that Grudberg has provided him with materials that the latter used in court in his successful bid for the temporary release of Greer.

“Hopefully that will stand as a precedent for other courageous” judges to order the release of prisoners, especially those uniquely vulnerable to suffering harm because of pre-existing medical conditions during this crisis, Taubes said.

He called on people to write to the governor, to write to the attorney general, to write to the Department of Correction commissioner if they want to see the state release people from behind bars during this crisis.

“It’s really about wisdom and reason for the entire society, not just for people convicted of crimes, but also for staff members and for the communities they return to every night.”

Taubes said that he and state lawyers had a status conference with Judge Arterton on Wednesday. He said state lawyers have moved to dismiss his petition, and that the judge has ordered the state to file a brief by Friday, has ordered the plaintiffs to file a response by Sunday, and has set a Zoom hearing on the jurisdictional matter for Monday.

“A Way It Should Not Be”

Lowery and his wife aren’t the only New Haveners speaking up about conditions behind prison bars during the pandemic.

At least New Haven residents have filed affidavits in the Connecticut ACLU’s federal class action lawsuit against the state and the DOC.

In their affidavits, the New Haven natives provide a first-person account of what they have experienced while locked up during the coronavirus crisis.

Robert Miller, 34, is currently incarcerated at Northern Correctional Institution, where he’s been held since April 3. Prior to being transferred to Northern, he was incarcerated at Carl Robinson Correctional Institution dating back to December 2018.

According to state judicial records, he pleaded guilty in 2016 to one felony count of first-degree assault and one felony account of criminal possession of a firearm and ammunition.

In his April 20 affidavit, which can be read in full here, he wrote that, before he left Carl Robinson, ​“we were struggling to get the proper cleaning products.

“In March, the warden had come to talk to us and said we would get extra soap and bleach to use for cleaning because of the virus. But three weeks later, we still hadn’t gotten anything. We were cleaning the dorm with our own toilet paper — we each get only one roll per week — and our own soap. We had to decide between using soap to clean our bodies or to clean our areas.”

So on March 24, he said, he and several fellow inmates wrote a letter to their counselor supervisors saying that they were not able to clean their living environs properly.

“We were asking to clean and being told they didn’t have paper towels, or being denied spray bottles,” he wrote. ​“The detail workers were able to clean the phones, bathrooms, and the vents on their designated shifts, but they weren’t cleaning the floors, bunks, lockers and walls. Why did DOC not give us ways to clean anything? It was clearly hazardous.”

He said that other issues included medical staff not wearing gloves while handing out medication to inmates.

Miller said that he and other inmates complained, and that he wrote a request to staff about the issue.

“When they did clean the phones and the bathrooms, they would kick out the whole building and put us all in the gym together, or put half of us in there at a time,” he wrote.

“Despite the virus, COs continued to shake down peoples’ areas, usually three bunks a day, but sometimes up to a whole section. Even if they were coughing or sick, they would go through all our stuff thoroughly, touching everything. One of the COs in our block already had tested positive for COVID at that point. And they weren’t wearing masks until recently. The warden is did [sic] address certain issues but the COs did not do what she
said.”

Miller said that prisoners on both the A side and the B side of the building decided on April 1 to not eat lunch in protest of conditions at the prison.

“We didn’t scream, yell, or throw things,” he wrote. ​“We just said no, we weren’t going to eat that one meal.”

He said the skipping of that one meal led to a conversation between staff and prisoners in which the latter told the former ​“everything that was going on, and how we hadn’t gotten bleach or any cleaning products that we were supposed to get. We also explained the issues with the food, which was rancid, old, and often moldy. One of the captains said he didn’t believe us. The conversation ended and the officers left. The next day, nothing happened. We just called our families and told them about it.”

Later that week, Miller wrote, a correctional officer told him to go to the prison processing area to get a new ID.

“Instead, when I got there, a bunch of correctional officers rushed me and threw me against the wall. They put me in shackles and twisted my arms up. They they put me in a van and took me to Northern. They told me I was under investigation. They didn’t say what for.”

When he got to Northern, he said, the correctional officers strip searched him and put him in shackles and in a cell.

“I didn’t have my morning medication. I had to beg them to give me my albuterol inhaler, because I have asthma. My body was also starting to go numb. I was lying on the floor, wheezing, and calling for help. I pressed the intercom in the cell for help but was told multiple times to stop pressing the button. The COs just kept ignoring me when they walked by. My lungs were getting tight and painful. I yelled to the person two cells down to get help. When I was able to speak to a CO, I asked them to call a ​“code white,” which is a medical emergency. They refused.”

He said staff also denied him a second medication he regularly takes, neurotin.

After several hours went by, he said, a correctional officer on the second shift brought him to the medical unit. ​“He had to help me get up and walk. They helped with my asthma, but I didn’t get the neurotin until later that night.”

“I was put in Northern just to silence me,” he continued in his affidavit. ​“I can’t afford to take a ticket for something I did not do. If we don’t feel like going to chow, we don’t have to. A hunger strike is technically missing six meals; we just turned down food once.”

He wrote that he is currently in a cell ​“The size of a closet by myself.”

He said he’s allowed to shower three times a week for 15 minutes each. He said he’s not allowed to order commissary or watch television or use his hotpot.

“Outside my window, by the entry to 2West, I’ve seen tons of people getting transported in here in shackles, with workers wearing Hazmat suits. Some of the people getting transported were doing badly and looked like they were hurting. The first night I was here, people were coming in all night long. Earlier that day I saw them bring in maybe 50 mattresses to the same building. They now have a tent set up there. I’ve heard ambulances coming by. One of the tiermen said that they had to open another block because they had too many people with COVID-19 here, and that it was already over 100.

“They have continued to bring people in. They are doing it at night with the lights off. Some of the COs have been wearing hazmat suits and some are not. Some are wearing normal clothes and others are not. When I look outside my window, I can see debris all over – gloves, hair nets, shoe covers, a broken pallet, and hangers.”

He said the nights are so cold at Northern that he often sleeps in sweatpants, a sweatshirt, thermals, and a T‑shirt, under a blanket.

“You can only make three phone calls per week,” Miller concluded in his affidavit.

“I was taken here on April 3 and now I’m still here. Nobody is telling me anything. They aren’t testing anyone in this part of Northern for COVID-19. I put in a sick call on April 9, and I was just seen on the 19. I told them I needed a refill of my inhaler because my asthma feels like it’s getting worse and I feel like I’ve had a cold for weeks. All he did was check my vitals.

“I understand this is prison, but even still there’s a way it should be run and a way it should not be. At Robinson, they were letting us stay up late at night and keeping the TVs on and phone and extra channels, all to keep us calm. But they weren’t letting us do what we needed to do to protect ourselves from this virus. They turned a blind eye to us.

“I declare under penalty of perjury that the foregoing is true and correct. I would testify to the same statements above if called to do so in court.”

“Not Provided Cleaning Supplies”

Chaz Gulley, 35, is currently incarcerated at Corrigan-Radgowski Correctional Centeer, where he has been held since May 2019.

According to state judicial records, he pleaded guilty in 2012 to one felony county of first-degree assault and one felony account of attempt to commit a robbery with a deadly weapon.

In his April 8 affidavit, which can be read in full here, Gulley wrote that his facility has been on lockdown every day since the end of March ​“after people within the facility started testing positive for Covid-19.”

He said in his affidavit that he usually gets 15-minute showers on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

“I’ve been told I can choose between half an hour of rec and half an hour phone call each day, and I’ve always chosen the phone call, but sometimes they don’t allow phone calls at all. That is the only time I am allowed out of my cell. I eat meals in my cell.”

He said he doesn’t have a cell-mate, and that his sleeping area is not cleaned or sanitized by staff.

“I am not provided cleaning supplies to clean my own cell. I can request someone to come clean my cell, but that won’t happen during lockdowns.”

He said his unit shares approximately two showers for 48 people, and that everyone in the unit also shares the same telephone.

“Handcuffs are not sanitized between uses, and anyone who comes out of cell in my unit has to wear handcuffs,” he wrote.

“Since the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, I have observed staff wearing masks and gloves, but not consistently. It depends on the day how many staff are actually wearing protective equipment.”

He said that staff have provided him with a memo of guidance about how to protect himself and others from coronavirus transmission, as well as one mask made out of cloth. He said staff also provide him with soap when he requests it, and that he does not have access to hand sanitizer.