Capitol of Maryland

Copyright © 2012 by Jerome Otto Waters, Jr.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2012916535

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4771-4394-0

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

INTRODUCTION

Chapter 1      101 Lombard Federal Custody

Chapter 2      Supermax

Chapter 3      History

Chapter 4      The Past—1979

Chapter 5      The Country

Chapter 6      Managing Money

Chapter 7      Supermax-Present

Chapter 8      Annapolis Woods

Chapter 9      Admiral Oaks

Chapter 10      Supermax Present 2005

Chapter 11      Eastport

Chapter 12      Allens Apartments

Chapter 13      Blood Sweat and Tears

Chapter 14      Juvenile Criminal System

Chapter 15      Shelton Ham Juvenile Facility

Chapter 16      The Only People That Seem Perfect at What They Do are Gods and Dead People

Chapter 17      The Cook-Up

Chapter 18      Higher Learning

Chapter 19      The Route

Chapter 20      The Road to Success

Chapter 21      Against All Odds

Chapter 22      If Your Not Part of The Solution, Your Part of The Problem

Chapter 23      Jessup State Correctional Facility

Chapter 24      Present

Chapter 25      Product of My Environment

Chapter 26      The Connect

Chapter 27      Annapolis Harbor

Chapter 28      Paid in Full

Chapter 29      Reality

Chapter 30      Business as Usual

Chapter 31      Present

Chapter 32      Living

Chapter 33      M.C.I.J.

Chapter 34      Get It How You Live

Chapter 35      Million Dollar Dreams and Federal Nightmares

Chapter 36      It Comes With The Game

Chapter 37      The Close’s Distance Between Two People Is Communication

Chapter 38      Victory Lap

Chapter 39      Game Over…

Chapter 40      101 Lombard

Chapter 41      Supermax Present

Chapter 42      American Justice

Chapter 43      The Penitentiary-Adapt or Die

Chapter 44      Fairton, Jersey

Chapter 45      Adding Insult To Injury

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First, I would like to thank God because without him none of this would be possible. I would like to thank my parents, kids, brother and sisters for sticking by me through thick and thin. I would like to thank all the family members, as well, that have been there by my side from the beginning and still stand by me.

Special Thanks: To my Grandparents, who always showed me unconditional love. Last but not least, I would like to thank those who supported me and encouraged me to write and finish my book: Baltimore’s own Rudy Williams, Maurice Peanut King, and my editor Leroy Mckenzie Jr.

INTRODUCTION

The United States does not provide a level playing field for all children and it does not protect all young lives equally.

Poor children and children of color in particular, already are in the pipeline to prison before taking a single step or uttering a single word.

Much of the problem is due to poverty, and children of color are more likely to be affected. One quarter of Latino children and one-third of African American children grow up poor. African American children are more than three times as likely as Caucasian children to be born into poverty, and are more than four times as likely to live in extreme poverty.

Millions of poor children are failed by their families, the juvenile justice system, and by child welfare (reversed) farewell child. Prison is the only university guaranteed program for children in America. Our country has 2.3 million prisoners, which is the world’s largest inmate population. We have more prisoners then China, a nation that has four times as many people as the United States. Those who are incarcerated are disproportionately people of color who are products of a society that has neglected and marginalized them.

Children of color are more likely to be placed in programs for mental retardation and in foster care, and are more likely to be suspended from school, left back a grade, or drop out. A black boy born in 2001 has a one in three chance of going to prison. The reason for this fact is because of unfair drug laws, draconian sentencing, failing schools and a lack of opportunity. There are 580,000 incarcerated black men, many of them are fathers who are doing time in state and federal prisons, while they’re only 40,000 who graduate from college each year, so, crime does pay, one way or another. It’s the payout that you’re looking for or the payment that you don’t want. You’ll either behind bars paying your debt to society, or you paid your debt with your life for the crime/crimes that you committed. All of this stems from a lack of commitment by our societies misplaced priorities and squandered resources.

One in every three black males is involved in the penal system. Blacks make up 13% of the United States population, but make up 50% of those who are waiting on DEATH ROW. Prosecutors seek the death penalty 70% of the time when a black person kills a white person, but only 19% of the time when the situation is reversed. It’s clear that society does not want us to reproduce ourselves. In addition, the government sets up free clinics and gives out free birth control pills in the black communities but not in others. Since 1993 legalized abortions have killed more African Americans than AIDS, Black on black violent crimes, heart disease and diabetes combined. 40% of the abortions in this country are made by our most valuable resources, the black woman. Black leaders today call it womb lynching. Blacks comprise 17% of the drivers on the Maryland state highways, but 70% of those drivers are stopped by police.

More than 2,300 Maryland inmates were serving a life sentence in 2008. Nearly 77% of those inmates are African Americans, making Maryland the state with the largest share of black prisoners serving life sentences. Among the 269 prisoners in Maryland sentenced to life for crimes committed when they were juveniles, 226 are black. The only thing Mary about this land was bloody Mary, but don’t get it confused with the alcoholic beverage, Maryland-Murdaland.

In 1982 100,000 black males were incarcerated, today there are 1.3 million. Two out of three blacks were projected to be involved with the drug game, a.k.a. The Game

GAME-(noun) a line of work: profession

(verb) to play for a stake: to take dishonest advantage of.

100% of the drug games activity in this country revolves around the American dollar, the MONEY is the motive. It’s true when they say that the LOVE OF money is the root of all evil.

In the early days people had no system of money as we know it today. To get things they wanted, people used the barter system (accepting certain goods in exchange for a product or service). The barter system is still used today in the drug game. Dealers would pay drug addicts for stolen goods or to do services for them in exchange for drugs. Even if you weren’t an addict, females would have sex with a person in exchange for that person to pay their bills, get their hair done, etc… Even in Corporate America, an employee would have sex with their boss in exchange for a promotion to a higher position, or have special privileges at the work place.

In 1652, Massachusetts Bay Colony became the first colony to make coins. Massachusetts was also the first colony to produce paper money. In 1690, colonial government issued notes called bill of credits. The bills were receipts for loans made by citizens to the colonial government, from then on it became money as we know it today.

Only God knows what the Massachusettians knew about the drugs, jealousy, and envy that their discovery would bring to this so called greatest country on Earth.

For the love of money people would kill and do the strangest things just to have a slice of the devils Pie.

My country tears of thee, land of the liberty, aw thee I sing. Freedom ain’t free in America. It costs more to be free then for you to do life in the penitentiary. Taxation without Representation. The U.S. government is the worlds largest debtor, Cash Rules Everything Around Me. For most blacks growing up in poverty and extreme poverty, the drug game was the only way they could eat. The Europeans came over to this country and took this land from the Indians and called it Thanksgiving. In other words Thanks for giving. In addition, they kidnapped our ancestors and brought them to this land and made them work as slaves, and they expect us to let freedom ring".

Nigger vs. Nigga

Nigger—Disrespecting and offensive. A member of any dark-skinned people. A member of a people of disadvantaged social standing; second-class citizen. In addition, the er on the end of the word nigger represents the lynching, whipping, raping, etc… of slaves for over 400 years. It also stands for the discrimination, prejudice, and racism that still remains in this country today.

Nigga—a word mostly used by African Americans as a slang. In addition, the a on the end of the word nigga represents the kidnapping, whipping, raping, etc… . Our ancestors were slaves for over 400 years and still managed to survive it. It also stands for the survival of the struggles over the centuries and still in life today, while being black in America.

Nigger in slavery days was what our ancestors were called with a noose around their neck hanging from a tree. Nigga is what we call each other today with gold, platinum, and diamond chains around our necks hanging out in clubs.

Chapter 1

101 Lombard Federal Custody

2005-Present

After the judge banged the gavel, I looked toward the back of the courtroom to see the expression on my family members faces, knowing that I was just denied my return home on house arrest, until my trial started. On the same day of the 9th anniversary of Tupac Shakur’s death, I was standing in a federal court house watching my life flash before my eyes. Here I am 5'ft 6" inches tall, dreadlocks in my hair, mad as shit. My mother was looking like someone had just killed her son, knowing that the system had as of 1998 when the judge banged the gavel, after giving her son a 5 year sentence, in a state prison. She tried to hold back tears, but was unable to do so. It was a dark and cold day for her at the Annapolis Circuit Court House. She never turned her back on neither of her sons, and wasn’t planning on doing so now. Déjà Vue all over again! She remembered back when she used to go through the same situation with his father, when she was a teenager. It scares her so much hoping that her son doesn’t end up like him. She can still feel the hurt and pain that his father caused her, like it was yesterday. You would’ve never thought that the last time they had been in a relationship was over 20 years ago.

The disappointing look on Mr. Walder’s mother’s face let the $75,000 lawyer know that her and the rest of his clients supporters that day, was blind toward the federal laws. Conspiracy was a mean and hateful word throughout the federal system. It was the one charge that had 90% of blacks locked up with the feds. A charge that was easy to catch, but hard to beat.

Larry said, Ms. Joan… I’m a take care of everything. Your son will be transferred to the supermax until his trial, which could take about a year… the only evidence that the feds have is 15-20 people that’s willing to testify against him for the prosecutor, if they’re needed.

It was hard for Ms. Joan to put her son’s life in the hands of a white man. Through her whole life the white man was the main person who sent every male who she loved away, including her father when she was only 6 years old.

My family all looked as if they were at my funeral instead of my initial appearance. The Big Boys, is what we called the feds in Annapolis because they were considered over all law enforcement. Everybody who I knew that went to the feds got a life sentence or basketball #’s that was represented by months.

I was so mad at the judge’s decision that I forgot about my co-defendants who were beside me with their families in the back of the court room going through the same emotions as my family was.

As the marshal guided me out of the court room, I looked at my family and assured them that I’ll call home later on that day.

The bullpin at 101 Lombard had the smell of shit from scared and nervous inmates letting out their last bowel movement before the judge decided their sentence. The bag lunches the marshal gave us wasn’t any help either, it was just letting us know that we wouldn’t be eating back at the supermax. The speakers outside the cages were used to further incriminate the stupid inmates that couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

Chapter 2

Supermax

At the supermax, Howell and I later learned that our co-defendant, who was in court with us, was awarded house arrest.

The C.O.’s put us in the bullpen with about 10 other inmates. The sergeant, who looked like a taller flava flav, told us all to strip ass naked and throw our clothes in the hallway. One by one he watched us bend over, squat and cough. After we finished, he gave us a burgundy uniform and a laundry bag with supermax supplies inside.

A voice yelled out Howell… Howell! I looked at my cousin, he looked at me and yelled back yeah! A short woman about 5 feet tall came walking down to the bullpen. Her name was Ms. Rien. She was good people’s to all the federal inmates, even though she worked for the government, she knew that they were locking niggas up for no reason at all. She looked at my cousin and said, Damn boy, you look just like your father… your father will be back at the max in a couple of weeks. My cousin said, ok.

After everybody in the bullpin was in their uniform, the sergeant walked us through the hallway up to the second floor. My cousin and I shared a cell together on block F-2. Back in the cell I told him that his boy low wasn’t right back in 2003 when one of my Eastport comrade’s told me that he got a nigga locked up by telling on him about a gun situation, he wouldn’t listen though.

The supermax was a concrete jungle filled with murderers, predators, drug distributors and gangstaz. If you was over the supermax federal custody, that meant that the feds wanted you and that you were a somebody on the streets. Well, that used to be true until after the millennium, when the system got so over crowded they asked for help from the federal government to take over some of their cases. Now in the feds, you have a lot of gun carrying thieves, crack-heads, and dope fiends.

The supermax was made up of an all black staff. It’s rare that you see Caucasians that worked there. C.O.’s let us out of our cages from 7am-9:45pm, with an hour lock in for the 3 o’clock count. The food was some bullshit, I could never get used to the taste of it. I went from eating steak and shrimp to eating dog food, while being locked up in a kennel.

`The building was called the supermax, because of its supermax security level. There was 8 tiers, 4 on the top floor, and 4 on the first floor. On each tier there are sixteen 10 by 4 cells, each one held two inmates. The tiers were small. The T.V. attached to the wall was so high that you had to lean back in your chair and tilt your neck back to watch it. You were sure to have a neck cramp everyday after watching it. Below the T.V. there were 8 phones. On the side of the phones there is one shower, which was so small that if you dropped your soap or wash cloth you would have to open the door just to bend over to get it. It was also used for the inmates to urinate in when they were unable to wait until the cells got back open, which opened up every other hour during the day. Me personally, if I dropped any personals on the shower floor, I’d leave it because it was so dirty that you would have to be a piece of shit to save those things. You get one hair cut a week, two visits a week, as well as attorney visits.

Now you have 32 inmates all watching one TV, sharing 8 phones, as well as one shower on a little tier. There was never a dull moment at the supermax, it was always something happening. Any day at anytime, somebody could be stabbed, fighting, fussing, but that’s nothing compared to the snitching, which in the federal system is better known as the #1 discuss of the human race. A rat would do anything to survive, it’s a savage creature. I was always raised up to honor the #1 code of the streets, you never, ever, I mean ever snitch, not even on your worst enemy and the game is to be sold and not to be told, sad but true. Many don’t honor the code that once kept the secrets of murders, violent acts, and the drug underworld to the street life. Back in the day if you were considered being a rat, by street law that act was a crime, punishable by death. In this day and time, if you are labeled as being a snitch in some cases, you’re honored. If you’re a law abiding citizen, not involved in any criminal activity and you tell on somebody, you shouldn’t be called a rat, all you’re doing is what your expected to do and cooperate with authorities. But, if you made the choice to involve yourself in criminal activity, get caught and now try to tell on somebody to get yourself out of trouble, you are a rat.

The feds were bringing African Americans in by the dozens. 99% of the inmates at the supermax all fell victim to the Boca-Raton (mouth of the rat).

This goes as far back from the beginning of time. When Adam took the fruit from Eve, God asked him, Why would you do such a thing after I told you not to bother with the fruit? Adam told him, Eve told me to do it. All day long your going to hear I heard he hot, meaning a snitch.

The supermax had no yard for recreation, instead there was a basketball court and a pull-up bar, which was inside a cage that looked as though it could only fit about 20 inmates in it. Tension was always in the air, so thick that you could cut it with a knife. The female staff, who be sucking and fucking inmates, bought a little joy to the concrete jungle at times. The male staff tried to make it harder for inmates because they wished they had lived the glamorous street life like some of us but without the incarceration outcome. Even the so called rappers, 9 times out of 10, the things they rap about, they didn’t do. Those artist are rappin about inmates like me as well as those who shared the supermax facility in Baltimore.

Back in the cell, my cousin and I investigated the indictment that was handed down to us by the government for hours. The indictment had several other people who were mentioned but not charged. Little -H’s father (big H), Fabo, Yums, Blackron, and a couple others from up their area.

On the overt Acts, I was the only one that there was no proof, no buys, guns, no drugs or controlled substance in my possession. All of my codee’s were charged with these charges, as well as selling to undercover officers. One of the people who got caught in the indictment with the most guns was low, the same person who got the house arrest instead of me, but I was considered a danger to the community?

The feds labeled lil-H and his men a gang that terrorized the community of pioneer city in Odenton where they lived, as well as sold their product, while doing violent acts. Also, in the indictment, I learned that they spray painted stop snitchin on building walls, curbs and mail boxes. They were on some lil boy shit.

Besides the drugs, the main reason why the feds snatched us up was because one of lil-H’s men shot a police officer outside of a party in which a co-defendant on our indictment was having. Later, one of them sold the same gun back to an undercover officer, how stupid can you be? In addition, that same night, in the club, they were taking pictures with real guns in their hands showing off for the females. The feds had all the evidence they needed.

The combination of the street knowledge and the person I am, I would’ve never affiliated myself with these types of people. I later found out that the only person that could’ve connected me with these niggas was my cousin lil-H. I guess it’s true when they say no good deed goes unpunished.

To me this was a nightmare in which I was waiting to wake-up from. With every second that went by, reality set in deeper and deeper.

While lying on my bunk, I thought back to the days that led me to be in federal custody. My thoughts took me back to Annapolis, The Capitol of Maryland

Chapter 3

History

Annapolis—The capitol of Maryland and the home of the United States Naval Academy. It lies along the Severn River on the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay.

The map of the city features two central circles, with narrow streets branching off in all directions. Colonial buildings give Annapolis a historic charm. They include Paca House, built in 1763 by Governor William Paca; and the red brick state house, built in 1772. The cities state house is the oldest state capitol still actively used by a legislature. The continental congress met in the state house when Annapolis was the United States capital, from Nov. 26, 1783-June 3, 1784. St. John’s college was found as an academy in Annapolis in 1696.

The city is a yachting center, its economy is based heavily on tourism and government activities. The puritans founded Annapolis in 1649. Annapolis was named for Queen Ann of Britain, who gave the city its charter in 1708. It has a Mayor-council government. The city is the seat of Anne Arundel County.

In June 2008, the