A group of communication studies students walked single file down one of the narrow tiers where several of Louisiana’s 86 men sentenced to death row live on a class trip to the Louisiana State Penitentiary on Feb. 5.
No executions have taken place at Angola in five years, and none of the inmates on death row are scheduled, said tour guide Thomas Merriet.
However, about 4,200 of the 6,300 inmates at Angola are serving life terms.
Some of the inmates awaiting execution smiled or waved from behind the bars as the students passed, some continued sleeping or listening through headphones. The students, who had spent the morning chatting, were quiet as they passed through the dimly lit hall.
Connor Vanveckhoven, a senior in the Communication Studies 4107 class, which focuses on crime and public culture, said she wasn’t scared at first going into Angola Prison, the nation’s largest state penitentiary.
“I was scared going into death row,” she said. “The pressure of feeling that everyone in there is going to die. I found out we walked passed Derrick [Todd] Lee, like if he targeted girls at LSU, how was he looking at us?”
Angola is flanked by the Mississippi River on three sides, and apart from the fences outside of the living quarters and recreation yard, there are no barriers. A majority of the inmates will die somewhere between the horseshoe shape of the levee and the main road, Tunica Trace.
“The natural surroundings are our fence,” Merriet said. “Life in the state of Louisiana means exactly what it says. The rest of your life. No parole or early releases. And about 2,000 of them are in for a first time offense.”
Angola has its own zip code, 70712, and houses a farm large enough to supply fresh vegetables and fruit to the entire prison and four other institutions in the state, Merriet said.
Communication studies professor Bryan McCann said he hopes the class left Angola with a better picture of the complexities of the criminal justice and prison system. This is the fifth time he has visited.
“I experience it different every time,” McCann said. “Part of the value is for them to be more aware of themselves.”
Crime has many sides, McCann said, and the impact of a crime goes deeper than just those immediately affected, and it’s important to understand it isn’t as simple.
Kerry Myers, an inmate serving a life term, described the prison like a small city, where inmates who are not on high security train for vocations, earn degrees and work skilled jobs.
Myers earned a degree in communications from Nicholls State University before entering Angola 25 years ago. He is editor of a magazine produced at the prison, The Angolite.
More people are incarcerated per capita in the state of Louisiana than anywhere else in the world, Myers said, but he thinks the media has stopped questioning the way the criminal justice system works.
“Everyone here has a story, and stories matter,” Myers said. “Prisons are necessary, but is the way we operate prison necessary?”
The Angolite has insight within the prison system that other publications do not, Myers said. He hopes to leave it better than it was before.
In the seven years since Gov. Bobby Jindal stepped into office, he has only pardoned one other inmate, but Myers hopes he issues a second before leaving office. He submitted his paperwork 16 months ago.
Myers said the goals of the warden, Burl Cain, are to instill a sense of responsibility and rehabilitation.
“There are people here who should never leave. They aren’t even able to function within this population here,” Myers said. “But this is also one of the safest prisons. I have never once in 25 years closed my eyes and been worried for my personal safety.”
He said it was difficult to define the level of violence of a crime.
Myers said the prisoners under the least amount of security are called trustees. They have to have been at the penitentiary for more than eight years. They work the highest skilled jobs and are allowed to keep more belongings.
The University students visited the dormitories of the trustees, a large three-room block where the bathrooms have no curtains, and there are more than 80 beds in the room. The bare, stained concrete floor is bleached every other day to keep bacteria levels down, Merriet said.
Chemistry senior Brian Dejean said the trustees’ dormitories reminded him of the barracks he stayed in during his years in the Navy.
“This is like the pinnacle of their lives,” Dejean said. “And I looked down on it, and hated it when I stayed there.”
Communication studies senior Paris Piotter said she was struck by how at peace the inmates were with serving a life sentence.
“It stood out to me how accepting they were of the fact that they are going to die here,” Piotter said. “You see all this stuff on TV and it’s not really how it is.”