Silver lining for an innocent enemy of society

Our families and most of the UK worry what economic horrors the government will unleash on us on 20th October.

The government seems determined to slash billions from the cost of running the country, and what with that promised VAT increase, the future looks very grim indeed.

And yet there's one side of life that just might find itself better off. It seems - fingers crossed - the vast numbers in prison are to be radically reduced.

So while the media portrays us inside - whether, like me, the prisoners are not guilty, or if they are one-mistakers, or rated as recidivists - as enemies of society, we are the one sector likely to be better off.

While people out there worry gloomily about October, giving the name itself the bleakest sound, our residents see word October as a sort of password to joy.

'October, October, October!' they cry with smiles that we aren't used to exercising.

Not only do we believe that the government is going to slash prison numbers, everyone inside seems to accept that the government will be forced to implement recent changes in European Law. This means that people cannot be held in captivity at the whim of a bureaucrat.

The EU says we must do our tariff - and not a day more.

Nowadays, lifers do their tariff as a basic stretch, and then wait and wait for a bureaucrat to decide if they are 'ready' for society. It's as if the bureaucrats think they are cleverer than judges.

Well, perhaps, no more. If the powers that be do obey legislation and accept the law of Europe, many prisoners believe a miracle will happen.

The gates of misery will fling open. All those over their tariff will go home.

'Blimey,' said Frank, a couple of cells along from me, full of smiles and tears, 'we're going 'ome, Roge. We're goin' 'ome. At last.'

Frank doesn't have many bags, but they are packed ready. And all around it's Chinese whispers and gleeful excitement. Happy expectation shows in the chat and winks and nods on the wings.

However, when the next bang-up comes around and they return to the cells that have been their home for years, faces fall.

The right wing redtops they read and like continue to show that the affection is certainly not returned, and there's no hint in those biased columns about true justice - nor any desire for it.

I've been inside for eight years, and so many have been in for very much longer. Like me, many of these people are not guilty of the crimes that the quirky envy of the world sent them down for, and threw away the keys.

I believed in British justice before it all happened, and now I have a different feeling. Now I will wait to see the official letter addressed to Yours Truly before I believe anything.

As for the others, well, experience tells me that if the government does comply with the EU ruling, only a few will be allowed out. They'll find a way to hold to the status quo for a good time to come. They always do.

I don't say it to Frank, but I fear he and so many of his kind will be left very disappointed and bitter.

However, your patient correspondent does have what looks like good news. The solicitor has - at last - got through to the parole board. He's told them straight. List me for an oral hearing, or we'll go straight for a judicial review.

Who knows what twists and turns will be thrown as obstacles into my path. But it does feel like a sort of progress - something you learn never to expect in English prisons. Why, it's not impossible now that I could be on my way to open prison next year - a year ahead of what seems at present to be the likelihood.

Strange isn't it. Here's me recording that my very best hope is that I might go to a less restrictive prison next year. Remember, this is a fellow who came home from work one night to find his wife murdered.

The boys in blue couldn't pin it on the killer for reasons you'll find in my website. So they prosecuted me instead. They didn't prove my guilt because they couldn't for the simple reason they know I didn't do it.

But they have their professionals. They sold the idea to the jury. And the best I can hope for from British justice - envy of the world - is that I might go to an easier prison.

- Roger Gordon

Anyway got the time? Yes, me ...

Volunteering is a way of doing good for others and making you feel good knowing that you are doing good, and at the same time doing good for your own personal CV.

It seems a positive way to pass the time for me. I am inside for murder, which I know I didn't do, and others know I didn't do.

But in the Criminal Justice System - envy of the world, they used to say - they like to keep their intrays manageable. Better to know secretly that the wrong man is in prison than it is to tell your political masters that you can't pin a crime on the killer himself.

(The irony is that I am pretty sure I know who killed my wife and I am ninety-point-nine sure that the CJS knows, too. However, for reasons that might well be clear to you on my website, the State can't get him.)

So I am always on the lookout for places where I can help in a positive way. After all, I am a motor mechanic, I used to drive taxis, I am pretty quick when it comes to crossword puzzles, and I feel I could teach people who can't to read.

About six weeks ago, I saw an opportunity that looked just made for your scribe. NACRO works in the residence here and was looking for a fellow to clean and tidy-up. As I say, I could be teaching real skills, but NACRO wasn't advertising that sort of work.

Never mind, I thought, I'll be an orderly, as they call a general dogsbody.

I thought that when they look at my details, they'll see I have plenty to offer. I was summoned for an interview.

It was a surprise when I didn't get a reply straight away. (Straight away in this hidden part of the world is about a fortnight.)

Then three weeks came, four weeks. I was really surprised, and naturally not a little disappointed. Five weeks passed, then six. And at last came a reply with praise for the way I conducted myself in the interview.

I was calm and confident, they said. But, 'No, not successful.'

That was a disappointment. Like the injustice of serving a life sentence, there is no real appeal. So there I was for a day or two feeling very dejected and wondering. Gerrymandering? I thought. Ageism? There's no doubt that prison is making an old man of me.

And then the mood passed. Thanks to the CJS and our politicians, I've certainly got the time to wait for another opening in NACRO when I can volunteer again. Dear God, if there's one thing I do have, it's time.

- Roger Gordon

A prison health warning: Don't get sick!

Ouch! After the pleasure of the family day visit, I came down to earth with an unpleasant bump.

My old friend neuralgia came visiting. It brings an excruciating pain to the side of my face and scalp.

I used to answer it with Dextropropoxyphene which helped with the pain. But here in prison the only medication permitted is paracetamol.

It's comparable with building sand castles to stop a tsunami. Mother would have approved, I acted like a brave soldier over the weekend and suffered in silence.

I did deprive me of sleep for 48 hours, but I rode out the storm.

Perhaps if the suffering had not abated, I might have been allowed something stronger. However, the unbending rules here might have required more than me beating the cell door with my head to get the message across that poor old Roger was really in pain.

Woe betide anyone in here with serious health issues.
- Roger Gordon

Links:
Distalgesic-co-proxamol

Nod and a wink

When prison existence gets a bit too much and I ask those in authority why I'm not so much closer to being released, I often hear the same answer: 'Tell a little white lie, say you did kill your wife and you're sorry for it, and then you can progress normally.'

So often it does seem the only way out. The nod and a wink shows, presumably, that no-one in charge dares admit that the system can make a mistake.

However, had they been present at the trial, had they compared the force of the Prosecution's case with the timidity of the answers by the so-called Defence, then they would understand how easy it is for juries to get it wrong.

The fact of the matter is that I didn't kill Anita, and my innocence is the reason why I am being treated worse than if I had done it.

The reality seems to be that if I don't say that I am her murderer, I might be here forever.

As a senior prison officer told me,'Look, Roger, go guilty and you will be rendered eligible to participate in the accredited courses designed for guilty offenders.

'And having completed these courses the parole board can feel comfortable about recommending release.

'You see, they'll have a safety net of saying that you looked eligible on paper, and by then you will have completed the recognised programmes.'

So I said to the man in the smart uniform, 'What if you are innocent and don't need rehabilitating?'

'Roger, please, everyone needs rehabilitating. If you complete our programmes, we can say that this man is rehabilitated and is safe in society.'

'But I was safe in society for 53 years. Why because a jury is misled am I considered not to be?'

'Are you listening, Roger? It is not what you are not considered to be but what you are considered to be. Pass the programmes and you are considered to be fit for society.'

I said, 'You're admitting, guv', that the system is certainly flawed for people who are innocent of the crime they have been imprisoned for.'

'You can have a car in perfect condition, but you still need that little bit of paper to prove it is perfect. Do you remember what people call this little bit of paper?'

'MOT.'

'You're exactly right, Gordon. And when you have said "I put my hands up to it", then you'll be on the programme and you'll get your MOT and be in the queue for returning to society.'

Roger Gordon

One step ahead ... and two back

I'm a crossword addict and I suppose most of us with this affliction store the strangest words and terms in a special compartment in our minds. Here are two that have surfaced in recent time, two that I thought might sometime earn their keep by fitting neatly into blank squares in a Times or Telegraph puzzle.

Double Jeopardy. Conspiracy Theories.

I'm not cynical by nature, but the words keep mocking me when I see the chance of of righting my wrong conviction slipping away.

You might think that a good justice system would welcome the truth. Embarrassing, I expect, for them to have to admit that the system has let me down and that an innocent man bears the label of lifer and languishes in jail.

Yet it seems to me that while authority knows I am wrongly convicted, reparation is not in the offing. Rather - and I am loathe to think this, but I can't see any other explanation - the opposite.

The shadowy figures who control the English Justice System must be conspiring to keep me inside.

After seven years in prison and after three appeal applications refused, I find my parole possibilities are being diluted.


For seven years, both the Probation Service and the Prison Service have considered me to be Low Risk. Admittedly that's one up on a judge during the trial time who considered me not to be any sort of risk at all.

But now, after serving seven years stolen from my life, I am reassessed as being Medium Risk. It might be laughable, except that the classification is very closely connected to parole likelihood.

So before I came to prison, I was no risk to anyone. But after seven years out of society, seven years of behaving and working all the time, being almost the model prisoner, mysteriously I am now considered to be a riskier fellow.

I asked my probation officer about it, because this is the person who earlier considered that of the 85,111 people in prison in England and Wales, I was among those who posed the very least risk.

'I don't understand what could have changed,' I said.

'The answer is very simple, Roger,' the officer said. 'You see, before you were a B category prisoner. As a B category prisoner you were considered to be of the lowest risk.'

'But nothing has changed for the riskier. Here I am institutionalised, or virtually institutionalised, by the years locked away. Compliant, is a term they use. There've been no recorded negative reports of behaviour or attitudes. So surely I should be rated as Low Minus.'

'Roger, please try to concentrate. Now, you were Low because you were B Category. Right?'

'I accept that's how it was.'

'Well, now there's a change, like you are now Category C. Do you see?'

'The Category has changed, that's all.'

'Oh, Roger, please. Your Category has changed. It's a big change, isn't it? You'll, like, admit that won't you?'

'It's a big change and I am grateful for it, but ...'

'No buts, Roger. It's a big change and that means everything has changed. You are a different category and that means you must have a different category for your Risk. And so you have.'

'But if you change my risk category, parole goes farther away.'

'You know, Roger, that like I can't speak to you about parole. A decision in that area belongs to a parole hearing, not to your probation officer.'

Getting answers is sometimes easier from the prison manuals, I've been told, so I went looking.

Of course, there's nothing to be found about innocent people who are convicted. But word inside is very loud on the subject. The door only opens for those who say they are guilty. And so most people within will tell you to own up to it whether you did it or not, and you get home much quicker.

'Course, it's different for you,' a neighbour explained. 'Lifers is different. We normal geezas don't ever go into denial. Not if we want to go home. But you, Roge, I fink you need a miracle.'

I didn't kill Anita - I loved her.

And those crossword terms surface again and again. Double Jeopardy. Conspiracy Theories. Isn't it double standards to treat people so differently, to let people go home because they say what authority wants to hear?

And isn't it a sort of conspiracy to keep a man captive because he insists on the truth. The truth is that I did not kill my wife.

My story is here. I would like you to know about me and this mistake by the British criminal justice system.

Two days bad news

Sitting in my cell on Wednesday awaiting the call from the call for lunch, the natural light at the cell door darkened. I looked up and there stood the prison chaplain.

The words that swamped me were, 'Here's bad news.' And before he could speak, I was trying to guess what awful lot had fallen the family.

I was filled with dread because a recent appearance of a chaplain, back at Swaleside, brought the devastating news of my father's death.

You learn to cope with your own bad news, but it comes as a real shock that others in life, others really important to you, are battling with Fate, too.

The chaplain grabbed me to stop me falling. 'It's okay, Roger, it's not seriously serious, it's not about someone dying.'

But, of course, it was serious. The chaplain said the news was about my handicapped brother. Andrew had suffered a stroke. 'He's being treated in hospital. It's the best place for him.'

The chaplain had phoned the hospital to get the latest news. 'They told me he's comfortable. He is showing positive signs of recovery.'

Later I phoned the family. They said Andrew is making good progress. That was good to hear.
But it was disturbing to learn that it took two days for the news to reach me. It emphasisied how cut off you are when they send you to prison. At times like this, you feel especially isolated and helpless and in another world.

I'm the one sent down for a crime I did not commit, yet over the seven years of injustice, three members of my family have died. Our Dad died in 2005, my sister Helen's husband died in 2006, and a favourite aunt died in 2007.

My story is here. I would like you to know about me and this mistake by the British criminal justice system.

Women can visit my cell ... minus me, of course!

The Mount has quite a bit of grass and several well stocked flower beds in the wing's exercise yard. They are well maintained at the moment ... but then prison has three lifer family days coming up.

The suggestion is that some of what the management terms inappropriate behaviour has occurred on family days gone by. What suspicious minds our minders have.

I have been allocated a place for the August lifer day. I've asked brother Alec and his family to come.

We get the option of cooking a meal for ourselves and family, or eating from a buffet supplied by the prison. I'm opting for the buffet for two reasons. If I cook, it will take up about an hour and a half of hours of the visit time.

The buffet supplied on the first family day was plentiful and tasty. Of course, the prison asks for a donation of £10, which considering the quality and amount is not too bad.

However, it is nearly a week's wages but heigh-ho ...

Visitors will also be allowed to look into the cells. The only condition is that prisoners are not allowed to be in the cell at the same time.

The suggestion is that some of what the management terms inappropriate behaviour has occurred on family days gone by. What suspicious minds our minders have.

A couple of cigars

Anyway, none of that for me. I've ordered a couple of cigars from the canteen to enjoy with Alec instead.

Not long after my parole knock-back, I was able to enjoy an internal probation interview for another OAS. When I asked lovely lady why outside probation changed my risk level to medium from low, I receieved soething of a slap in the face.

Because, she said, I should never have been considered low in the first place! Obviously someone around here doesn't read the judge's report.

She said she kept her risk assessment at Medium.

She had more news for me. I must complete 2 two courses that they run here - justice awareness and anger management.

You'll remember that there is a problem in here if you have the cheek to deny a crime you have always denied. And I, reckless fellow, have always denied killing my wife, and I deny it for a pretty good reason. I didn't do it.

Fortunately, these courses don't require me to discuss the crime I didn't do, so that has made me eligible.

Something in me makes me smile at the titles of the courses. After all these years of imprisonment for a crime I didn't do, if I am not aware of 'justice', then I am aware of nothing.

And if I have tolerated this appalling injustice withouth being continually on the boil, then it might well appear that few are better at managing anger that your correspondent.

They know best

And my behavioural record should show my guardians that to include me in it is a waste of money but - fortunately- I have learned that they know best. They are the professionals, after all.

Oh, there is a positive side to having my risk assessment changed. If it had stayed at low, I coul dnever show any improvement. Now it is up a bit, my normal behaviour means it must be lowered and that will seem like an improvement.

Of work, the library job remains very dull. However, the head librarian has started to give me some jobs with more responsibility - a hint of resonsibility - and that does break the monotony.

Twice a week now, I give new prisoners a presentation about the function of the library and what it offers, and that brings some satisfaction.

The group NACRO has taken over resettlement. Eighty new prisoners arrived last month so that means 80 left. So you can seee that resettlement is an important thing.

I have asked to be join them so that I get involved with resettlement programme. I've made it clear that I don't want to be just the tea boy but want to be hands-on with the process. I feel this is somewhere that I could be good for the system.

I suspect my involvement will depend on how much they trust me. I have a faultless record here with trust, so I have my fingers crossed that I will be allowed to get involved in this challenging work.

My knock-back stress

I had to return to Metaformin tablets when my blood sugar level crept up too high again. The medics think it could be caused by stress through the knock back over parole.

At least my weight is not too bad now. I am below 13 stone now and that brings a joy. When people ask my weight, I can say, 'Oh, 12 stones something.' That sound so much better - even substantially lighter - than having to admit that it's 'Over 13 stone.'

PS: Have you noted my new prison number? It was HP8675, but now it's A2901AL. Sounds very IT and modern now.
Read my story ....