San Quentin Trying to Reform Its Image

San Quentin has a well-known and largely well-deserved reputation as California’s deadliest prison, but corrections officials are trying to change all that.

“We house the toughest inmates in the state, maybe some of the toughest in the country,” said Sgt. Dave Langerman, administrative assistant to the warden. “This is a population of troublemakers, to some degree.”

The most dangerous prisoners are sent to San Quentin because the design of its 100-year-old walls and the cellblocks within provide the most security against escape and riot, Langerman said.

But that “end of the line” policy has resulted in what Langerman calls “concentrating all the bad apples in one barrel.” And a dangerous barrel it is.

Nine inmates were slain in 1984--one of the prison’s worst years--and five were killed during 1985. Last June, a correctional officer was killed when an inmate rammed a makeshift spear into his heart.

Hundreds of inmates are assaulted annually. Fights are broken up by shots fired by officers armed with rifles who roam catwalks draped with barbed wire.

About half of the prison’s 3,500 inmates remain in perpetual lockdown, allowed to leave their cells only for brief daily exercise periods or for programs such as counseling. That number includes members of ethnic gangs who constantly are at war within the prison’s maximum-security cellblocks.

“We have a lot of these gangs, even those that comprise the same ethnic groups, ‘hitting’ each other,” said Langerman, an eight-year San Quentin veteran. “You almost need a program to keep up with who’s who.”

Keeps to Himself

Jimmie Colbert, a 57-year-old inmate serving two life sentences for murder, came to San Quentin more than a year ago from Folsom Prison, where he “had a problem” with a gang. He said the only way to avoid such trouble is to keep to himself.

“Being in here is like being in a jungle different from any jungle in the world,” he said. “You’ve got to be on guard 24 hours a day.

“In these gangs, if they’re told to hit somebody, they’ll hit the first thing weak that they can get to. I’m a little too old to get out of the way.”

Prison officials say they are taking steps to change San Quentin’s violent nature. They say construction of new prisons to accommodate maximum security inmates, such as one nearing completion near Tehachapi, will help ease the burden.

Langerman said the policy change that has done the most to curb violence within San Quentin’s pale yellow walls was the decision to arm catwalk officers with rifles. Until August, 1984, they used shotguns loaded with birdshot.

Inmates began to consider wounds from the usually non-lethal pellets as “a red badge of courage” and often forced confrontations, Langerman said. He said inmates have “a deep abiding respect” for the rifles, which fire a small, high-velocity bullet.

As proof, he produced statistics showing shots fired by guards to quell trouble had dropped from more than 500 in 1983 to fewer than 100 this year.

Prison officials also have intensified searches for makeshift weapons in the cellblocks, even though searches are dangerous for correctional officers. Langerman said statistics show that such sweeps dramatically reduce the number of assaults among inmates.

Langerman said violence outside the lockup area has been reduced by an integrated exercise yard established for inmates slated to move from maximum security to the prison’s general population.

“It makes sure they’re ready to get along,” he said, adding that inmates return to maximum security if they fail the intermediate step.

Other changes have been the result of receiving more funds because of court decisions ordering improved conditions.

Cells Being Renovated

Cells gradually are being renovated with new wiring, plumbing and bunks. Tent cities have been replaced by prefabricated dormitories that accommodate about 1,000 fewer dangerous inmates outside the walls.

Milton Dexter Harris, who is serving a five-year sentence for burglary, lives in the dormitories and, like many such inmates, is terrified of the inner cellblocks, which he calls “a hell of a place.”

Harris, 25, said he has become scared “of all sorts of things” in his six months at San Quentin.

“I’m scared of getting in trouble,” he said. “A person might even die here.”