CALIFORNIA INMATES
Bakersfield Now staff
The CDCR says Salazar is likely in the Tuolumne County area.
Salazar was serving time for robbery and using someone's identification to obtain personal information.
Anyone with information on Salazar's whereabouts is asked to call 911 or CDCR’s Special Agent Eric Lauren at (559) 351-3979.
Drew Costley, SF Gate
Mauricio Argueta has put in thousands of hours at the prison's bike repair shop, according to the article, and now several children in El Dorado County will get free bikes as a result. He spends 60 hours a week at the repair shop and fixes hundreds of bicycles each year.
"It's really hard because it's just me doing it," Argueta told the Bee. "It's a little tough, but I love doing this and it's a good experience."
The bicycle restoration program at Folsom was organized in the 1980s by the Cameron Park Rotary Club and the Folsom Moose Lodge. The purpose of the program the was to keep inmates busy while providing underprivileged children with a gift during the holiday season.
"My population is 69 percent socioeconomically disadvantaged," said Patrick Paturel, a principal Louisiana Schnell Elementary School, located in Placerville, Ca. "So most of the bikes do go to kiddos that need one and probably don't have the resources to get one."
Roberto Bravo, 36, pleaded no contest on Oct. 4 to attempted murder and assault with a semiautomatic firearm.
Bay City News
MONTEREY COUNTY, CA — A Salinas man has been sentenced to 10 years in the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation for shooting at two victims in a vehicle earlier this year, Monterey County District Attorney's officials said Wednesday. According to prosecutors, 36-year-old Roberto Bravo pleaded no contest on Oct. 4 to attempted murder and assault with a semiautomatic firearm and also admitted enhancements for personally using a firearm during the crimes. His conviction represents a second strike under California's Three Strikes Law.
On the night of April 15, Bravo tried to burglarize a victim's construction truck that was parked outside their home for the second time. A few weeks earlier, a neighbor's surveillance camera captured Bravo stealing tools from the same truck, prosecutors said. During the April 15 burglary, one of the victim's relatives witnessed what Bravo was doing. Startled, Bravo got into his own vehicle and fled the scene.
Two members of the victim's family, a father and son, got into their vehicle and followed Bravo. They called police as they pursued him, hoping they would apprehend him and retrieve the stolen property.
According to prosecutors, during the pursuit, Bravo pulled over, exited his car and fired multiple shots at the victims' vehicle while they were inside. Although three bullets struck their vehicle, the victims were not struck or injured.
Salinas police later located Bravo and his home and he admitted to shooting at the victims. He then led police to his backyard where he buried the gun, prosecutors said. Bravo was prohibited from owning or possessing firearms at the time because of prior convictions for misdemeanor domestic violence, prosecutors said.
In jail for life, Shiloh Quine sued to get sex reassignment surgery – here's what her victory means for trans people in prison and across the country
Aviva Stahl, The Rolling Stone
On August 7th, 2015, Shiloh Heavenly Quine's 56th birthday, she and her longtime partner were hanging out in the day room at Mule Creek State Prison, a men's facility in Ione, California. All of a sudden, Quine – a transgender woman with dirty blond hair and an infectious smile – was summoned to the program office over the loudspeaker. "I wonder what they want," Quine remembers thinking. "Well, I haven't done nothing so I can't be in trouble."
When she arrived at the office, a counselor handed her an envelope. Inside, ready for Quine to sign, was a settlement agreement her lawyers had reached with the state of California, which would enable her to access the sex reassignment surgery (SRS, also called gender confirmation surgery) she had fought for and dreamed of for years. This past January, Quine made history when she became the first trans person in America to receive SRS while incarcerated.
In an exclusive interview with Rolling Stone from Central California Women's Facility, where she was transferred in February, Quine recalls of the moment she heard the news. "I was in shock," she says over the phone, her voice still brimming with excitement. "Oh my God. I couldn't believe it."
That day in August was a turning point in Quine's life as well as the lives of the estimated 3,200 incarcerated trans people in the United States. Not only that, her settlement marked a new day in the evolution of trans rights in America. It established a precedent that anyone and everyone – even those people the U.S. arguably treats with the greatest distain, its prisoners – have a constitutional right to access comprehensive gender-affirming medical care. By requiring the state to provide her with this surgery, it signified that SRS is not "optional" or elective, but an operation that is both crucial and lifesaving.
"I felt that, you're giving surgery to people who need hearts and kidneys, and you're paying just as much for that for that, for these incarcerated inmates," says Quine when asked what it was like to fight for her surgery. "So it felt like discrimination. You'll provide for certain aspects of individuals, but when it comes to transgenders, we're not worthy."
Shiloh Heavenly Quine was born in Los Angeles in 1959, and grew up mostly in Arizona with her mother, father and three sisters. "I was a cheerful kid, but I feel I didn't have a childhood," she says – her father was abusive, and growing up things were difficult. From an early age, Quine identified as female, and as a child she used to play with the dolls that were lying around her house. Quine's dad was "pretty hardcore" and had clear expectations of the kind of man he wanted Quine to be.
In eighth grade, Quine participated in a contest called "Weird Day," where kids could dress up however they liked. She went as a woman, sporting long hair and a dress. "I was able to be myself," Quine remembers. She won the contest. As the years went on, Quine struggled with her desires to be a woman but tried to brush it off as just a phase.
In 1980, Quine was arrested. By 1981 she had been convicted on charges of first-degree murder, kidnapping and robbery for ransom, and sentenced to serve to life without parole in the custody of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR). She and her alleged accomplice were accused of kidnapping and shooting 33-year-old Shahid Ali Baig, a father of three, during a robbery in downtown Los Angeles. She maintains her innocence, claiming she was only convicted because jailhouse informants lied on the stand during her trial in exchange for time cuts on their sentences. (Beginning in 1988, Los Angeles County was rocked by a jailhouse informant scandal, after one informant revealed how he could gather crucial details about a case and use them to fabricate a confession. Quine's conviction did fall within the time period later investigated by the Los Angeles County District Attorney's office, however they could not corroborate her account.)
Things on the inside were dangerous. Quine was locked up at the Corocan State Prison during the 1990s – its infamous "gladiator days," when guards allegedly paired up rival gang members to fight each other, then sometimes shot (and killed) the prisoners to get them to stop. "I didn't want to come out because I was scared," says Quine. "I was trying to survive."
It wasn't until 2008 – after she'd been transferred to a prison in Arizona so she could say goodbye to her ailing mother – that Quine learned she could take hormones and transition while incarcerated. That gave her the push she needed to come out, and she started changing how she dressed and how she looked. Coming out "was the hardest thing I ever did," Quine says. She was diagnosed with gender dysphoria in October 2008, and in January 2009 she received her first hormone shot. Quine explains that most prisoners responded "very hatefully," after she started transitioning. "There was very few that would even talk to me."
The historic nature of Quinn's surgery is reflective of just how difficult it is for most trans people to receive gender-affirming healthcare on the inside. Flor Bermudez is the Legal Director of the Transgender Law Center (TLC), the largest national trans-led organization in the United States, which, along with the law firm Morgan Lewis, represented Quine. "Our country's health care system makes it difficult for transgender people across the country to access the health care they need, period," Bermudez tells Rolling Stone. "When it comes to transgender people in prisons, jails and other institutions, it goes from difficult to almost impossible." In some places, like Nevada, so-called "freeze-frame" policies are still in place today, meaning trans people cannot access hormones unless they entered prison with a prescription already in hand. Until Quine's settlement, CDCR – like the vast majority of prison administrations across the U.S. – had a de facto ban on the provision of gender confirmation surgery.
Medical care wasn't the only issue at hand. Like other trans people behind bars, Quine had to defend herself from physical and sexual violence and frequently ended up in solitary confinement. Denied access to make-up, hygiene items and most women's clothing, Quine got creative: she made make-up out of Kool-Aid; altered her prison-issued clothing into spaghetti-strapped tops and miniskirts; and eventually got eyeliner and "plucked" eyebrows permanently tattooed on her face.
Even as she got some of the trans-related care she needed, Quine couldn't stop thinking about SRS. "It was very fulfilling actually to finally complete myself, except I still had this thing between my legs that I felt imprisoned me," Quine recalls. "I felt like twins that are born together, stuck together and that they needed a procedure at some point to separate them in order to be complete."
So shortly after she started hormones, Quine filed a health request for SRS. A doctor who worked for CDCR found that she "[was] a good candidate for sexual [sic] reassignment surgery on the basis of medical necessity," which to Quine seemed like a hopeful step. The doctor's recommendation was in line with the prevailing medical expertise on trans care, which holds that that SRS is an essential, safe and effective way to relieve gender dysphoria for some trans and gender non-conforming individuals.
CDCR denied her request. When she found out the news, Quine says she tried to commit suicide. "It seemed hopeless," Quine tells me. "I was at my end, that was it." But she survived, and decided she would try and fight for her surgery through the courts. She filed a lawsuit, and the judge assigned to her case decided it was strong enough to appoint outside counsel. The Transgender Law Center and Morgan and Lewis came on board.
"That's when it really got real," Quine says. "The hope began to turn into a flame, from a little ash."
The California prison system continued to fight. In a February 2015 court filing, lawyers for the state denied that CDCR discriminates against trans women by enabling cisgender women to more easily access the medical procedure in question (vaginoplasty), and disputed that the only way to treat Quine's gender dysphoria was through SRS.
In April 2015, a federal judge found that CDCR had violated the Eighth Amendment rights of another transgender woman prisoner, Michelle Norsworthy, and ordered the state to arrange for SRS for her. The ruling was appealed, but rather than accommodate the court, CDCR opted to release Norsworthy on parole. Since she was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, Quine's sentence left CDCR with no similar option, and just a few months later they settled.
"To understand the impact of this case for people in prison, you need only look at what California did next," says Bermudez in an email. "[It] establish[ed] the first policy in the country enabling transgender people in prison to access the medical care they need, including surgery." Requests for surgery must now be approved by the newly formed Sex Reassignment Surgery Review Committee. In order to be eligible, prisoners must meet certain criteria, including having at least two years to serve before their anticipated release or parole date. In October 2015, when the new policy came into force, about 400 or so transgender people stood to benefit, according to numbers released by CDCR.
Quine's case was not just a win for people on the inside, but also those who are free. "As insurance companies continue to deny health care for trans people across the country, this ruling made clear that gender-affirming surgery can be a life-saving, medically necessary form of care," says Bermudez. "Supporting Shiloh with this victory has provided a much-needed dose of hope that, little by little, we can tackle the injustice of this system and reclaim the dignity of transgender people in prison."
In California and across the country, right-wing activists have vocally opposed Quine's surgery. In February 2017, the conservative California Family Council issued a press release castigating the settlement as a "bizarre reflection of priorities" and an "obvious perversion of the Eighth Amendment." The organization, which has vocally opposed California's efforts to support trans and gay school children, lambasted the cost of Quine's procedure and the impact it might have on the victim's family. "Not only is this decision a frivolous use of taxpayer dollars, it is prioritizing the feelings and needs of a murderer over those of innocent citizens," it stated in its press release.
Farida Baig, the daughter of the man Quine was convicted of killing, tried unsuccessfully in court to block her medical procedure. "I'm helping pay for his surgery; I live in California," Baig told the Los Angeles Times. "It's kind of like a slap in the face." Asked if she was ever angry at Baig for her comments, Quine doesn't even pause. "No, not even a little bit. Naw, how could I be angry at her? She lost her father."
According to CDCR, thus far five individuals have been approved for surgeries through the Correctional Health Care Services (CCHCS) SRS Review Committee. Two people have received bilateral mastectomies, which is the procedure CDCR has made available for transgender men. Two other trans individuals held in CDCR custody were approved for SRS, but their surgeries have not yet been completed.
Outside of California, the impact of Quine's suit for incarcerated trans people has been largely symbolic. "Successful court cases help shift the norms and practices," says Chase Strangio, a staff attorney with the ACLU's LGBT and AIDS project, explaining that policy changes will still need to be fought jurisdiction by jurisdiction. Only a federal Supreme Court ruling on blanket policies barring SRS could change prison policies nationwide.
What Quine's win has provided to incarcerated trans people is a renewed sense of hope. "Shiloh Heavenly Quine is my heroine, my inspiration," says Geri Erwin, a trans woman incarcerated in New York. "Which empowers me to commit myself to this last battle of my [own SRS] fight."
Michelle Angelina, a trans woman incarcerated in New Jersey, echoes Erwin's words. "I would tell Shiloh that I am immensely grateful to her for fighting for her surgery and seeing it through."
Quine's groundbreaking legal win comes at a time when trans rights are under attack across the United States. Several state legislatures have attempted to pass "bathroom bills" prohibiting trans or gender nonconforming people from using the restrooms that match their gender identity. In July, President Trump announced his plan to revive the ban on transgender members in the military.
"The denial of healthcare for transgender individuals in custody is just a part of the larger government structures designed to control and erase trans bodies and lives," says Strangio, who has led litigation efforts against the bathroom bills and the military ban. "The mechanisms for doing so vary, but the goal is always the same: control access to public space for trans people, criminalize trans bodies (particularly poor trans women of color), restrict health care access and ultimately, expel trans people form public life."
The CDCR and TLC have continued to litigate aspects of the settlement, including whether trans women held in male facilities should have access to bracelets, earrings, hairbrushes and other personal items. CDCR has claimed these items pose a security threat, despite the fact that they are available in women's prisons. The Ninth Circuit will hear the case in 2018.
"Consistent with the settlement agreement, CDCR has promulgated emergency regulations allowing transgender inmates and inmates with gender dysphoria access to the agreed upon property that corresponds to their gender identity," says Terry Thornton, Deputy Press Secretary at CDCR.
For Quine, focusing on trans rights has been the drive to keep her fighting. "It was like a calling within me that was so powerful that it kind of went against everything that was logical, especially in the environment that I'm in," she says. "But yet, it was a drive, something that you're born with that just…" she pauses. "You want to complete yourself."
Jeff Larson, Red Bluff Daily News
Red Bluff >> A powerful and united crowd in full support of victims Kimberlee Thomas and her father Keith Thomas gathered in a Tehama County courtroom Thursday morning as Judge Richard Scheuler handed down sentencing in the John Noonkester double murder and assault conviction following deadly shootings on July 2, 2015 at the Lake California Country Store.
Noonkester, 34 at the time of the shooting and Kimberlee Thomas’ ex-husband, received four separate and consecutive sentences of 25 years to life, two separate life without the possibility of parole terms for the murders and 14 additional years following the incidental shooting of Cottonwood native Anthony Baugher.
Tehama County District Attorney Gregg Cohen explained after the proceeding Noonkester will never again be a free man.
“Basically the reality is life without the possibility of parole, so he’ll never get out,” Cohen said. “It’s the worst form of domestic violence known in the world today where a husband chooses to kill his wife while she watches her own father being shot and killed. Finally today we have justice two-and-a-half years later.”
Cohen said per guidelines with the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation Noonkester will be sent to High Desert State Prison in Susanville, where he’ll be classified and likely transported to another facility to serve out his prison sentence.
“John Noonkester will rot, will die in jail as he deserves (to),” Cohen said.
Cohen previously elected not to pursue the death penalty, due in part to California’s guidelines surrounding capital punishment.
Friends and family of the Thomases said they were pleased with the outcome.
“I definitely think justice was served,” Kory Farias said.
Farias, 31 and a friend of Kimberlee Thomas since childhood, said there will never be complete happiness with a situation as tragic as the one that occurred, but she and the family are pleased that Noonkester will pay for his crimes.
Thomas’ youngest daughter delivered a handwritten letter that was read aloud during the sentencing, stating her full support for her mother and grandfather and against Noonkester, her father.
Noonkester, shortly after that letter, delivered an outburst and was forcibly removed from the court for the remainder of the hearing. He would later return to sit with four bailiffs and defense counsel Rolland Papendick in an enclosed room where he watched and heard the sentence.
Faris said the daughter’s letter made an impact.
“Very choked up, I think all of us were crying but it’s very important that her letter was read,” Faris said. “For (Noonkester) to hear how she feels about him.”
Faris said the girl, 9 and her older sister, 11, will remain in sole custody of Kimberlee’s mother.
Keith’s older brother, Tim Thomas, spoke in support of the victims.
There were multiple letters submitted to the court on behalf of Noonkester, though nobody present spoke on his behalf.
Papendick said in court that Noonkester has suffered a “mental defect,” possibly as a result of his solitary confinement in the Tehama County Jail.
Papenkick declined to comment after Thursday’s sentencing.
Deputy District Attorney James Waugh was lead counsel for the prosecution.
CALIFORNIA PAROLE
Lonnie Wong, Fox 40
FOLSOM -- For the first time, dozens of public and private agencies brought military veteran resources inside the walls of Folsom Prison.
California prison officials say 8 percent of the inmate population is comprised of veterans -- some 6,400 inmates.
That's why state parole officers organized the resource fair for vets where they could link up with job, education, housing and VA benefit information. In addition, organizations had expertise in child support and counseling for anger management and domestic abuse issues.
The goal is to give incarcerated vets the best chance to stay out of prison once they are released on parole.
CORRECTIONS RELATED
Chris Nichols, Politifact
Candidate for California governor Delaine Eastin bills herself as the education candidate. She has, after all, spent her career in education - serving as a community college professor, as the state’s superintendent of public instruction and on the boards of the University of California and California State University systems.
Early in her campaign, the Democratic candidate has called for a "reinvestment in education," including funding for universal preschool and tuition-free college.
Also on the topic of higher education, Eastin has claimed in recent months that California has failed to prioritize college construction in favor of prisons.
"We’ve built six total (college) campuses — one UC, three CSUs, two community colleges — since 1965. That’s six campuses but 23 prisons," Eastin said in an interview with Capital Public Radio on Oct. 16, 2017.
This is not the only time Eastin has made this colleges-to-prisons comparison. In May, during her speech at the 2017 California Democratic Party State Convention, Eastin asserted that California had built "just six colleges but 22 prisons" since 1985.
Was Eastin right? Has California built nearly four times as many prisons as colleges since 1965, or perhaps since 1985?
We set out on a fact check.
Our research
First, we looked at prisons.
The portion of Eastin’s claim about 23 prisons built since 1965 is correct, according to a chronological list produced by the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. Twenty-one have opened since 1985.
Altogether, California operates 35 state prisons and houses about 129,000 inmates, according to a March 2017 report by the California Legislative Analyst’s Office.
California is also home to 12 federal prisons. But because the state is not responsible for their construction or operation, we have decided not to include them.
Colleges
A glance at the history of the UC and CSU systems shows Eastin is again correct, at least on this portion of her claim: The University of California at Merced opened in 2005, the lone campus in the 10-campus UC system added since 1965.
Meanwhile, the state has constructed three California State University campuses during this period: Cal State San Marcos in 1990, Cal State Monterey Bay in 1995 and Cal State Channel Islands in 2002. They are the newest additions to the 23-campus CSU system.
We found, however, a glaring error on Eastin’s count of community colleges.
There have been 41 of those campuses built since 1965 -- not the two she claimed in the radio interview. That’s according to a list on the California Community Colleges Chancellor’s Office website.
"I think it speaks to the important role that California community colleges play in meeting local education demand," said Erik Skinner, the community college system’s deputy chancellor, about the pace of construction.
Skinner said the system has also opened 70 smaller community college "satellite centers," across the state during this period.
Nine of the system’s full-scale community colleges have been built since 1985, again far more than the two Eastin claimed for this time period in her convention speech.
"An error in good faith"
Eastin’s spokesman Jon Murchinson acknowledged the inaccuracy of the community college statistic -- a figure that greatly throws off her "six colleges" to "23 prisons" comparison.
He told PolitiFact California it was "an error in good faith as (Eastin) had heard the number from someone," and that she "regrets using it without verifying the source."
He said she won’t be using it in the future.
While Eastin missed the mark, a look at campus data shows the California community college system has significantly slowed its pace of construction. It built a combined 32 campuses in the 1960s and 70s but only nine in the nearly four decades after.
Skinner, the system’s deputy chancellor, said construction is driven by population growth and economic conditions, which fueled the campus boom in the ‘60s and ‘70s. It has focused on adding to its existing colleges and on student completion rates in recent decades.
Our ruling
In a recent Capital Public Radio interview, candidate for California governor Delaine Eastin claimed the state has built only six college campuses, including two community colleges, "but 23 prisons" since 1965.
Eastin was right in her count of state prisons.
But she was way off the mark on colleges: California has opened 41 community colleges, three California State University campuses and one University of California campus for a total of 45 campuses since 1965.
Eastin made a similar claim at the California Democratic Convention in May, though she used a more recent timeline. She said California had built "just six colleges but 22 prisons" since 1985.
That statement is also inaccurate.
Eastin’s campaign told us the candidate made a mistake and will correct her figures in future statements.
We rate Eastin’s claim from her radio interview False.
FALSE – The statement is not accurate.
Click here for more on the six PolitiFact ratings and how we select facts to check. PolitiFact California intern Kathryn Palmer contributed research and writing for this article.
Governor’s race
PolitiFact California is fact-checking claims in this race. See our "Tracking The Truth" governor’s race fact-checks here.
Gary Klien, Marin Independent Journal
A woman charged with smuggling heroin and cellphones to a condemned inmate at San Quentin State Prison took a felony plea deal as the case was heading to trial.
Teri Orina Nichols, 48, admitted to possessing a controlled substance in prison. The prosecution dismissed two other counts.
The agreement calls for a six-month jail sentence. The sentencing is set for Jan. 24 before Judge Andrew Sweet.
Nichols, who lives in the Los Angeles area, had personal and financial difficulties that made it too burdensome to submit to a weeklong trial in the Bay Area, said her public defender, La Dell Dangerfield.
Nichols was arrested at the prison on Aug. 25, 2016. She was visiting condemned inmate Bruce Millsap, 51, whose crimes include eight murders in Southern California.
According to the prison, Nichols made it through the initial security screen without being flagged for contraband. But when she was in a visiting cell with Millsap, a prison officer noticed plastic bags in a trash can.
Under questioning, Nichols admitted the bags had contained food she brought for Millsap. The prison staff searched her and reported she had a large beanie attached to her bra that contained heroin 18 cellphones and 18 cellphone chargers.
A Marin Superior Court judge ruled during the preliminary hearing that there was sufficient evidence to put Nichols on trial. The trial was scheduled for last month, but the defense filed a last-ditch motion asking a different judge to dismiss the case.
When the second judge declined, Nichols accepted the plea deal. Had she gone to trial and lost, she could have faced up to four years in prison.
Nichols’ arrest prompted San Quentin to conduct an internal investigation into how the drugs and phones got through security and whether staff members were involved. Lt. Samuel Robinson, a spokesman for the prison, declined to discuss the findings.
He said the prison did not discipline any employees for the episode but took some measures to tighten procedures.
“For security reasons, we will not publicly disclose our conclusion on how she was successful in getting contraband into the prison,” he said. “Revealing that information could lead to additional copycats or people finding other ways to circumvent our security. Our enhanced security team is actively involved in refining our processes to prevent this from occurring in the future.”
At the time of her arrest, Nichols was a special education aide in the Los Angeles Unified School District. The district reassigned her to a nonschool site after learning of her arrest, and it was unclear whether she still works for the district.
OPINION
Scott R. Baker, Eureka Times-Standard
Few people while viewing the media coverage of the recent deadly California wildfires were aware that during any statewide fire, correctional inmate hand crews make up 50 to 80 percent of the fire personnel.
Unlike civilian firefighters, who receive up to three years of intensive training, inmate firefighters ware fortunate to receive three months of training.
Presently, California has approximately 250 female inmate firefighters working in 12-member crews. The equipment they carry can weigh up to 50 pounds and some carry chain saws used to create fire breaks.
In the prison environment, inmates can earn eight to 95 cents an hour. In conservation camps, women earn $2.46 an hour. Firefighter hand crews are paid $1 an hour. Calculated out, female firefighters earn up to $1,000 a year. $200 of that is for working fires. Civilian firefighters earn up to $40,000 a year. The California inmate firefighter program saves the taxpayers approximately $100 million a year.
On Feb. 28, 2016, working on the Mulholland Fire in Southern California, 27-year-old Marquet Johnson, mother of two, was killed while earning $1 an hour. What’s wrong with this picture?