Saturday, May 30, 2020

Things Remembered: Andrea Thomas

Things Remembered:
Andrea Thomas

So back to my statement, “I don't understand Black America.” I will refer you to a new series on my forgotten blog called “Out of My Mind”(go here:https://www.blogger.com/blog/posts/8140572634127178933)
on which I will be posting these and other FB posts some of which will be more focused on my years at the Allan B. Polunsky Maximum Security Prison of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. The more focused posts hopefully will find their way into a book which I aspire to publish shortly before I die unless, of course, I don't and then I won't.

For me, attempting to share what I learned is sometimes best told in stories of people I met in prison. Andrea Thomas was early in my time at Polunsky. For some reason, I was making rounds on Death Row and our department had received a referral about his behavior. Andre's story has been chronicled in Texas Monthy(https://www.texasmonthly.com/news/texas-murderer-andre-thomas-is-mentally-ill-but-is-he-insane/) so there is nothing I can share that is not in the public domain. I stood at his cell, and attempted to speak with him. At that time, there was no aggression and I certainly felt no danger. However, something was off. At that first meeting, I notice that Andrea had lost an eye but physical injuries was not uncommon among the offenders. Some were the result of violence done to them, some law enforcement did to them when they resisted arrest or used weapons against the law. You might say, “Oh, I didn't know that.” Well, I am not surprised because how much time have you spent thinking of where people who are injured, arrested, patched up, convicted, sentenced and sent to prison go? Exactly. Unless you are in some kind of prison ministry or have an incarcerated family member, you might not think about prison at all. The Texas Legislature counts on that. The out of sight out of mind worked until William Wayne Justice. At one point, he was labeled “The Most Hated Man in Texas.”Three significant rulings under his watch brought Texas unhappily kicking and screaming into the 20th century: the end of school desegregation; reform of the prison system; and the provision for bilingual education for immigrant children in Texas.

So, I brought Mr Thomas down to a psych cell which we had on the premise for offenders who could be suicidal or had attempted to commit suicide unsuccessfully. It was a room of cinder block and concrete. It was the only place in the infirmary where the air conditioning worked too well—except for my office. There was a stainless steel toilet combined with a lavatory also of stainless steel and only cold water. I assumed it was because the suicide risk of an offender burning himself to death with a trickle of hot water was a risk TDCJ did not want to take. If the person was nice while in the cell, he would be given a “suicide blanket with which to cover himself, keep him warm, and protect himself from the cold air because we took all his clothes. If he was unkind to our blanket, or attempted to destroy it or had previously destroyed this indestructible blanket he did not get one. We got 3 days to work with him and attempt to figure out what he needed. The “manipulating outcriers” liked to end up in the cells because during the summer in East Texas temperatures in the cells could be murder. And some like to show off their man parts to the female nurses and clinicians. Many of these male offenders got their sex ed from porn so they lived with the mistaken belief that women swooned when they flashed their man parts. I know, you didn't see that coming.

Mr Thomas was the real deal. By that I mean he was unstable, but I was not convinced he was suicidal. TDCJ(Texas Department of Criminal Justice) had a policy that when an offender(their term for convict or inmate) entered TDCJ, their crimes were not common knowledge within the prison. The theory was each man was given a chance to begin a fresh start. It was also an attempt to protect sex offenders because they were so hated by the other offenders. It was a Topsy-turvy world where up was down, down was up, no one listened, and although mandated, respect was lacking for men who needed the core value of being respected. The one exception to that was the death row offender. His crimes were of such nature, it only took a quick search on the web to pull up the information about him and his crime.

I had no real information on Andrea Thomas. My dysfunctional and devastated department did not give me access to any pertinent information about Mr Thomas. That lack of information on my part would become significant, but all these years later, I am unsure what I could have done differently. Mid-morning I ordered Thomas to be moved to an open psych cell. He was brought down from death row, to the back of the Infirmary, stripped searched, all restraints removed(cuffs and leg irons) he was placed in the cell, and given a “suicide blanket.” I went and prepared the paperwork. Every offender has to be identified somewhere on the premise, suicidal offenders are no different. When the prison stops to count, they must be counted because if not, it could look like they escaped.

As I remember, I returned from lunch break with a nurse running down the hall screaming, saying something like, “I can't believe he did it,” over and over again. I guess in my new job, I overestimated the capacity of our nurses to lean into any situation with professionalism and a stoic “What needs to be done here?” First, lunch was not that good. I do remember that. Then I rounded the corner onto the left hall where two psych obs cells were located. Standing at the door was one from our department, and a security officer. People were responding unhelpfully. So I walked up to the cell and looked at my employee and said, “What happened here?” The person said, “He dug out his good eye and ate it.” Yep, it definitely was not that good of a lunch.

The cell was bloodied, his suicide blanket was bloodied, and as soon as we could, he was transferred to a hospital for treatment and then to the psychiatric hospital where he now resides. Andrea was a tragic story almost from the beginning. What I learned was it was not an unfamiliar story. Raised in a black community in Grayson County totally unfamiliar with mental illness, he showed early signs of being mentally ill. A kindly church lady started taking Andrea to church but he disappeared and she did not keep up with him or know what was happening. At the target age he developed full blown paranoid schizophrenia but still fell in love, married, and together they had children: two; a boy; and a girl. Then they separated and divorced but Andrea came calling one day stabbing his wife, their children and attempting to stab himself. Simply, it was murder-suicide gone wrong. Arrested, tried, convicted, sentenced to DR to be executed, I found him in 2008 and that morning not in good shape. What I did not know at the time was he took his other eye.

On that day, he was successful in totally blinding himself not realizing that without any vision he was now doomed to the hell of only seeing the horrific images playing again and again in his head. Sadly, that began a theme I saw repeated again and again in black offenders. In the black community, there was no access to mental health care or no awareness of how mental health could impact a person. So the most seriously mentally ill black offenders were never identified, never treated, never stabilized, until they came to prison. Sadly, prison gave them their first experience of getting the help they needed.

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