It Could Happen Here - The Forgotten History of the Old Atlanta Prison Farm: Part Two

Episode Date: August 11, 2022

In part two we discuss the prison’s history of forced labor and lack of healthcare in the overcrowded facility.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

You should probably keep your lights on for Nocturnal Tales from the Shadowbride. Join me, Danny Trejo, and step into the flames of fright. An anthology podcast of modern-day horror stories inspired by the most terrifying legends and lore of Latin America. Listen to Nocturnal on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into tech's elite and how they've turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech

brought to you by an industry veteran with nothing to lose. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts from. On Thanksgiving Day 1999, five-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez was found off the coast of Florida. And the question was, should the boy go back to his father in Cuba? Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Miami? Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Curious about queer sexuality, cruising, and expanding your horizons?

Hit play on the sex-positive and deeply entertaining podcast, Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Join hosts Gabe Gonzalez and Chris Patterson Rosso as they explore queer sex, cruising, relationships, and culture in the new iHeart podcast, Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Sniffy's Cruising Confessions will broaden minds and help you pursue your true goals. You can listen to Sniffy's Cruising Confessions, sponsored by Gilead, now on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes every Thursday. Welcome to It Could Happen Here. Today, I'm your host, Garrison Davis, and this is part two of our three-part series on the history of the old Atlanta prison farm, made in collaboration with the Atlanta Community Press Collective. Last episode, I talked about how one of the initial motivations for running a city prison farm was to save money on the project of incarceration, or perhaps even

start generating money. This remained the case throughout its existence, though exactly how well it performed at that was often questioned. Use of prison or slave labor for government projects was not a new concept in Atlanta, though. Around the time of its incorporation in the mid-19th century, the city of Atlanta's population was around one-fifth enslaved persons. City Hall itself, along with many other iconic buildings and roads, was built using convict lease labor from the Chattahoochee Brickworks, notorious for its brutal conditions and was owned by a former Atlanta mayor. The city prison farm produced various crops, livestock, and dairy, but it also provided workers for other city projects. In 1946, Superintendent H.H. Gibson bragged that he was cutting the city prison food budget in half, as well as, quote,

furnishing the city 11,961 man-days of work on city streets by prisoners, unquote, within a six-month period. In 1939, they began saving further money on incarceration by getting the women prisoners to make the new uniforms, adding that, quote, the city can buy better materials because the labor is free, unquote. They attempted to incentivize overtime work by offering, quote, extra credit for each hour of overtime worked for reduced sentences. The prisoners were forced to build some of their own cages as well. In 1944, one of the older prison buildings was designated for use as a hospital for people with venereal diseases. That meant that prisoners would need a new building and they had to build it themselves. Quote, most of the work was done with prison labor, with the city providing the materials.

Unquote. They were also responsible for the cleaning and maintenance of the buildings in order to pass health inspection. According to an Atlantic Constitution article, quote, the dormitory, scrubbed daily by men and women whose drunkenness and traffic violations placed them behind a mop or a tractor for an average 15-day stay, won a 94 health rating. In 1958, prisoners were even made to rescue a guard's furniture from a fire. By the 1970s, the farm provided more than half the food and dairy

products for inmates in city detention centers. By the 1980s, the prison farm had stopped growing crops, but still provided 42% of the pork and beef eaten by the prisoners, both at the farm and at the city jail. The work heavily subsidized city operations and was considered crucial. H.H. Gibson, the head of the prison farm in 1945, said, quote, Idleness is the root of all evil in prison management. To be completely exempt from work, a prisoner should be minus both arms and both legs, unquote. In the Courier Journal article where he makes those claims, the publication also accepts Gibson's claims that he, quote, took care to see the guards do not overwork prisoners and that the guards are not permitted to

strike or even curse prisoners, unquote. And this would, of course, be later proven very much untrue. White guards were known to send black women to a less occupied area, supposedly to do extra work, but upon arrival, the prisoners would be raped by the guards. If they refused, they were, quote, given a hard way to go, unquote. These same guards had the power to assign extra work to prisoners. This was supposed to have been fixed several years earlier with the hiring of a black woman guard, but according to the Pittsburgh Courier, she was, quote, only a matron in name. The white guards continued to supervise the colored women inmates, unquote. The same statement details a beating with a broom

handle. It claims that black women were forced to farm in the rain while white women were allowed to stay inside and read newspapers and called for further investigations. Since the banning of the bucking chair used for whippings, solitary confinement in quote, the hole, unquote, was the official punishment for not working at the standards set by the prison guards and wardens. We know little about the conditions of the hole in earlier years, but in 1965, a new administrator named Ralph Hulsey took over operations of the prison farm. A scathing report from journalist Dick Herbert, who went undercover as a prisoner, alleged, among many other things, that the hole was, quote, where men were starved and degraded, unquote. His report drew much negative attention to the conditions on the farm, the hole being one of

them. At the time, Holsey said that he was, quote, not happy with it as it is, but it is necessary for discipline, unquote. The hole was described as an eight-foot by four-foot windowless room where troublesome inmates are kept in solitary confinement. It's described as, quote, furnishings now include a pail and two buckets, no bed, no mattress, or plumbing. Hulsey allegedly planned to fit such cells with an iron lattice bunk and toilet facilities, but we have no indication that this was ever followed through on, and the hole continued to be used regularly up until the mid-80s. Welcome. I'm Danny Threl. Won't you join me at the fire and dare enter Nocturnum, Tales from the Shadows,

presented by iHeart and Sonora. An anthology of modern-day horror stories inspired by the legends of Latin America. From ghastly encounters with shapeshifters to bone-chilling brushes with supernatural creatures. I know you. Take a trip and experience the horrors that have haunted Latin America since the beginning of time.

that have haunted Latin America since the beginning of time. Listen to Nocturnal Tales from the Shadows as part of my Cultura podcast network, available on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into how tech's elite has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search,

Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel winning economists to the leading journalists in the field, and I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong though, I love technology, I just hate the people in charge and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to god things can change if we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry

and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, a five-year-old boy floated alone in the ocean. He had lost his mother trying to reach Florida from Cuba. He looked like a little angel. I mean, he looked so fresh.

And his name, Elian Gonzalez, will make headlines everywhere. Elian Gonzalez. Elian Gonzalez. Elian. Elian. Elian Gonzalez. At the heart of the story is a young boy and the question of who he belongs with. His father in Cuba.

Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. At the heart of it all is still this painful family separation. Something that as a Cuban, I know all too well. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story, as part of the My Cultura podcast network, available on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, I'm Jacqueline Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit,

the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me in a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between the chapters.

From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them. Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life. Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I guess.

Leadership of the prison farm changed hands many times throughout its history. And at each passing of the torch, there were claims of improvement, the dawn of a new, better era. Bleak and cruel conditions remained no matter who was in charge. Archival research shows that for over half a century, life on the farm was subject to hard labor, long days, harsh punishments, overcrowding, poor sanitation, and constantly lacking health care. J.D. Hudson, the superintendent of the prison farm in later years, who was hyped up by press as a sort of humanitarian reformer, described the previous conditions of the prison farm as slave labor. He bragged frequently

of his intention to give prisoners, quote, a measure of self-respect so they could lead decent lives again. Upon being instated, he announced his intention to empty solitary confinement and forbid guards from hitting or abusing inmates, something which, we must point out, had been declared many times before already. He also made statements saying that inmates are, quote, ridden with guilt about their lives, and they want to be mistreated and abused, So this might explain why the great reformer himself was still in charge when the ACLU sued the city in 1982 for conditions on the farm, citing, quote, along with the long track record of unsanitary conditions. Mayor Andrew Young said of the suit, quote, It's simply a problem the city hasn't gotten around to handling yet, unquote. At that point, the whole was still in use as solitary confinement,

and described as a room seven feet long by four feet wide that is virtually without heat in the winter and without cooling in the summer. Prisoners were held there 23 hours a day, with an hour out for baths, often held for many days at a time. The suit was settled in 1985 with a $4,500 settlement split between three former prisoners, but the city never actually admitted guilt. Prison farm staff were also ordered to avoid using isolation cells like the hole and told to build 20 new individual cells. The ACLU and those supporting the suit hoped that this lawsuit would push the city to make changes, but in 1987, just

two years later, the city tried to build 20 more solitary confinement cells at the prison farm, and this project only fell through because white contractors they hired were caught taking job contracts slated for minority-run businesses by using a front. And hopefully you don't need me to tell you that solitary confinement is still used as punishment in most prisons today. It's been ages since I looked at this newspaper closed document and just, there's so much. since I looked at this newspaper closed document and just there's so much. Atlanta may well take pride in the fact that its city prison farm has won such recognition as a model, progressive institution that is cited as a model in other metropolitan areas where municipal penal systems need improvement. I mean, that's the same thing they're trying to do with Cough City.

Yeah, this is from 1945. That was one of the surprising things that we found was that so many aspects of like the specific fights that are being had about Cop City have happened 50, 60 years ago. Like they were trying to expand the prison farm, I think, eastward more into dekalb county in the 40s and the dekalb county residents were like no you can't do this to our county yeah but it was because they didn't want the black prisoners near the white elementary school and like that was the 1944 that like wasn't long after when they like formally disallowed whipping yeah like that's like it's there's like obviously it's they're still doing brutal stuff in terms of like solitary and other forms of torture and rape but like posing it as this like model facility is like you just got in trouble like a few years previous for like whipping all of your prisoners. Tying people down to a chair. Then one of my favorites.

Guards shoot two women prisoners while firing vainly at each other. I can't remember if we put that one in the article or not, but two prison guards were shooting at each other because they were, I don't know, cranky or whatever. And it ended up just shooting two prisoners instead. Inside the report from last year on the history of the prison farm there's like almost like a hundred citations and a whole bunch of background stuff how once you kind of had this question of like is there unmarked graves at

this site how can we go about researching it what were the kind of techniques and things you used to gather all of this information? And then let alone, like, how do you start sorting through all that to pick out, you know, which seems more credible than others? You know, there's a lot of conflict in history in some regards. So how, what was like the whole entire research process like? Because looking at just the list of citations, it is a little overwhelming. Yes, it's very overwhelming. So our other co-author and Laura, they did so much of the research.

I have to give enormous props to them like they even made a couple trips to things like the state archives which are slightly south of the city I think kind of snuck into a university library because a lot of a lot of these like in-person resources were still closed at the time due to COVID restrictions. A lot of them are open now, unfortunately. So we have a huge document of just newspaper quotes. A big, big source for us were historical newspaper articles, mostly because we initially started looking for official documents. Yeah.

This was a public entity. The city is required to keep records. And what we found was just a huge derf of them. And most of the articles that are not articles, but like official documents that are still around are housed in a really great collection at Georgia State University in downtown but a lot of those things are they're just fairly limited or if they're like year-to-year reports it's like oh here's one from the 50s here's one from the 60s there's no consistent documentation available so then we went to public record which was newspaper articles and oh my god there are so many newspaper articles about the prison farm i never want to read a newspaper again and we kind of used things that happened at the prison farm that were noteworthy

enough to make it into the newspaper to i I guess you could say, guide what the biggest beats in the history of the prison farm were. And that kind of led us to what was something that we didn't know when we started our research, which was just how poorly or just how mangled the history of the prison farm has become. This land, approximately 1975, started becoming a police training academy. So there has been some sort of police training facility on this land since approximately 1975. land since approximately 1975. There was even a slight version of a mock city in the 80s. They had an intersection that was for training for urban encounters, if you will. So this is the kind of information that we're digging to try to find the history. We're literally seeing legal notices in the newspaper, so advertisements. And this is how we're piecing this information together.

When the pandemic hit in 2020, for the first time in recent memory, there was a large-scale public discussion on how the structure of the prison system is detrimental to the health of incarcerated persons. Public health experts advocated that the best way to limit the spread of disease is simply to have less people in prison. We'll talk more about COVID's impact on prison populations in a bit, but first let's note how overcrowding and lack of medical treatment in prisons, leading to disastrous and deadly health outcomes, is no new issue. When Dick Herbert went into the Atlanta prison farm undercover for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution in 1965, one of his main findings was, quote, non-existent medical treatment.

He reported, quote, tubercular, coughing, sick early days of the prison farm and remained the case for long after. the early days of the prison farm and remained the case for long after. Already by 1938, the prison farm was described by Mayor Hartsfield as an ungodly mess and was likely facing issues with communicable diseases, as evidenced by a call for, quote, separate hospital wards for diseased prisoners, unquote. But it took city council until 1941 to even, quote, study a proposal to equip the new building nearing completion for a 500-bed emergency hospital, unquote. The completed building was still not furnished by 1943, and in 1944, instead of making the new building into a health facility, they moved the prisoners into the new building and fitted the 20-year-old prison building out to be a city detention hospital

for treatment of those infected with venereal disease. And then, rather than be used as a hospital ward for the prison farm, it was then used to treat venereal disease patients from throughout the city. This was expected to, quote, meet demand for years to come, but by 1945, there were already calls to close the entire prison farm and convert the whole thing into a venereal disease quarantine clinic due to an increasing load. Obviously, those calls were never adopted, and the prison farm remained in operation. Obviously, those calls were never adopted, and the prison farm remained in operation. In a grossly recursive mirror of the present, in an October 1, 1957 edition of the Atlantic Constitution, a quote,

Asian flu outbreak prompted the immediate release of quote, any person who is ill and who has a home to return qualified, though. H.H. Gibson, who was heading the prison at the time, said that only some of those who had been convicted of just light infractions would be released. He also said that older men with a history of tuberculosis would be released due to the risk of their contracting pneumonia. Quoting Gibson, quote, none of the men who had temperatures of 101 or more were released. Some of these older men have no places to go, and if we released them with a possible case of flu and higher temperature, chances are we would find them dead in the woods or somewhere a day later, unquote. There was no mention of

efforts to mitigate spread within the prison farm facility, and the fate of those who were forced to stay is unknown to us at the present moment. In December of 1957, the DeKalb County Grand Jury presented findings from an investigation that found that the prison farm was severely lacking in health care. They advised that a building should be provided so that prisoners who are ill can be held aside from the ones who are not sick, meaning that in the 20 years since this was first proposed, it had still not been implemented. They recommended that prisoners who were sick be given examinations and a record to be kept of those prisoners, and the prison farm should, quote, employ a proper nursing staff, unquote. Their final recommendation was that, quote, some sort of sick quarters should be put into effect so prisoners who are ill can be held aside from the ones who are not sick, unquote.

The implication from these recommendations, of course, is that none of these practices were in place at the time of investigation. A year later, in November of 1958, a second DeKalb grand jury, quote, found fault with its medical facilities along with the lack of fire safeguards in the prison farm. Of course, thanks to Dick Herbert's undercover investigation for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, we now know that by 1965, nearly 10 years later, medical treatment was still found to be non-existent at the prison farm. And by 1967, a prisoner, quote, with a record of hospitalization for tuberculosis and heart trouble, collapsed and died, unquote.

Despite the order that medical records for sick patients be kept, there was no record on file that this patient had ever seen the doctor. Recorded sections from a meeting between the prison firm and the Department of Prisons indicate that they planned to hire a full-time registered nurse in 1972 to assist the on-site doctor. Other plans included tests for tuberculosis, pap tests for female prisoners, and basic height, weight, and blood tests. They also indicated that they were not currently providing vision, hearing, or dental care. An Atlanta Voice article from 1973 claims there are, quote-unquote, new improvements in this area, with the, quote, employment of a physician and two nurses, a detoxification program for alcoholics, health tests, and a humane approach to prisoner problems, unquote.

But by 1976, we still see such things being raised as simply proposals. An inter-office communication at Grady Memorial Hospital states the need for, quote, a nurse clinician to be hired by Grady and paid by the state under contract to provide screening and triage services on site and referral when appropriate to Grady Hospital. One of them suggests entering this contract for reasons that it will generate $125,000 in income and, quote, minimize public criticisms of inadequate health care for prisoners, unquote. It also states that currently prisoners, quote, get only crisis-oriented emergency care. A May 1976 Community Relations Commission report indicates that many of the healthcare issues are caused by the reluctance of guards to respond to prisoner complaints

and, quote, brutality at Grady Hospital by Atlanta police officers, unquote. Another proposal from Grady, one month later, suggests that rather than hiring a nurse specifically for the prison farm, they use a nurse from the central referral office to act as a liaison with non-clinical personnel at each of the eight detention centers in the city, and give recommendations over the phone. They note that this would save the prison thousands of dollars a year. A 1977 letter from Shirley Millwood, nurse at Grady Hospital, indicates that prisoners were still being transported to Grady

for the administration of medication, and that even were still being transported to Grady for the administration of medication, and that even that was not often done. One of her patients was supposed to be brought in every day for medication, but Millwood claimed, quote, the jail personnel have not complied. The patient had been experiencing chest pain and shortness of breath all afternoon, but was not brought in until 10.30 p.m. Quote, I feel that this is negligent on their part, and it is certainly detrimental to our patients. If something happens to this patient, will the jail be liable for the problems that result from him not being properly medicated? Unquote. In an undated document entitled Health Program, City of Atlanta Prison Farm, pulled from the same archival collection as the other Grady Hospital records, does indicate that since 1971, a doctor is on site five days a week for one hour each day, and a nurse is on duty 24 hours a day.

hour each day, and a nurse is on duty 24 hours a day. It states that wherever feasible, treatment should be done on the prison farm property, but lays out several procedures to follow for serious medical emergencies, usually involving transportation to Grady Hospital. However, it points out that, quote, unattended heart attacks, poison or suicide, overdose cases, and heroin withdrawal in jail frequently occur. The report also says that in the case of public intoxication, quote, minor medical skill and routine capacity in easing interpersonal tensions can reduce difficulty for arresting officers, reduce the arrests needed, and initiate more constructive rooting than directly to jail, unquote. The report points out that in diabetic patients, their convulsions and the similar smell of their breath to acetone can lead to incorrect conclusions

with permanent health effects. It also mentions that delirium, tremens, a condition associated with withdrawal of alcohol and other substances, can, quote, endanger an inmate's life and more than one has died. Unquote. Welcome. I'm Danny Thrill. Won't you join me at the fire and dare enter?

Nocturnal Tales from the Shadows, presented by iHeart and Sonora. An anthology of modern-day horror stories inspired by the legends of Latin America. From ghastly encounters with shapeshifters to bone-chilling brushes with supernatural creatures. I know you. Take a trip and experience the horrors that have haunted

Latin America since the beginning of time. Listen to Nocturnal Tales from the Shadows as part of my Cultura podcast network, available on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into how Tex's elite has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires.

From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. nothing to lose. This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel-winning economists to leading journalists in the field, and I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong, though. I love technology. I just hate the people in charge and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to God things can change if we're loud enough, so join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts,

wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. On Thanksgiving Day 1999, a five-year-old boy floated alone in the ocean. He had lost his mother trying to reach Florida from Cuba. He looked like a little angel. I mean, he looked so fresh. And his name, Elian Gonzalez, will make headlines everywhere. Elian Gonzalez. Elian Gonzalez.

Elian. Elian. Elian Gonzalez. At the heart of the story is a young boy and the question of who he belongs with. His father in Cuba. Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom.

At the heart of it all is still this painful family separation. Something that as a Cuban, I know all too well. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story, as part of the My Cultura podcast network, available on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, I'm Jacqueline Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series,

Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while comm for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between the chapters. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry,

we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them. Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life. Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Without proper healthcare or separation of sick and healthy prisoners, and in the midst of a decades-long tuberculosis epidemic, overcrowding would certainly be a major contributing factor to sickness and death in prison scenarios. Archival research found that overcrowding was a recurring complaint throughout the over

half-century of the prison farm's existence, despite frequent expansions often motivated by the overcrowding in the first place. Overcrowding is a common occurrence in prisons and jails throughout the country. A longitudinal study by the Vera Institute of Justice found that, quote, A longitudinal study by the Vera Institute of Justice found that, quote, As jail populations have exceeded capacity, county policymakers have turned to jail expansion rather than alternatives to incarceration. In some cases, decision makers also argue that replacing older facilities will provide safer living and working conditions for the increasing numbers of people in the jail. Unquote. living and working conditions for the increasing numbers of people in the jail, unquote. However, institute researchers note that, quote, larger jails built to accommodate an overcrowded population

often see their populations continue to increase. This is because expansion alone fails to address the root causes of overcrowding, leaving in place the very policies and practices that drove the jail's population increase in the first place. Indeed, there is a risk that the existence of a larger jail with more beds may reduce the incentive to make policy changes that address the factors driving overcrowding due to the temporary relief expansion provides." driving overcrowding due to the temporary relief expansion provides, unquote. This is precisely what we see play out here in the case of the old prison farm, and in fact is still an ongoing issue in Atlanta area incarceration systems today. Since early on in the COVID-19 pandemic, it's been made clear that the most effective way to mitigate the devastation of endemic COVID-19

in prisons and jails is to reduce the number of people behind bars. And wow, perhaps that would be a good idea in general, not even related to this specific pandemic. The United States locks up a larger portion of its population than any other nation in the world, and just the state of Georgia has the fourth largest incarceration rate in the entire world if you compare individual U.S. states to all other entire countries. Throughout 2020, only three states, New Jersey, California, and North Carolina, released a significant number of incarcerated people from prisons. Parole boards also approved fewer releases in the first year of the pandemic compared to the year prior. The response of governments was so bad that, in total, 10% fewer people were released in prisons

and jails in 2020 compared to 2019. As a result, at the end of the first year of the pandemic, 19 state prison systems were at 90% capacity or higher. Incarcerated people are infected by the coronavirus at a rate more than five times higher than the nation's overall rate, according to research reported in the Journal of the American Medical Association from July of 2020. The reported death rate of inmates, 39 deaths per 100,000, is also much higher than the national rate of 29 deaths per 100,000. As of April 16th, 2021, more than 661,000 incarcerated people and staff have been infected with coronavirus, and at least 2,990 have died, according to the New York Times. And getting data more recent than that is actually almost impossible, because many

carceral agencies have simply stopped collecting and releasing information. The number of infections and deaths is likely even higher than the reported number because jails and prisons are conducting limited testing on incarcerated people. Many facilities won't test incarcerated people who die after showing symptoms of COVID-19. A lack of data reporting by carceral agencies has prevented the public from being able to understand the full impact of the pandemic on incarcerated persons. Organizations like the UCLA Law COVID-19 Behind Bars Project, the Marshall Project, and the COVID Prison Project have been working to collect data

and information as there's been a lack of transparency from agencies in providing adequate or correct data on the number of cases, safety protocols, and deaths within their jails and prisons. Many states' Department of Corrections rolled back or stopped reporting their COVID-19 data altogether in the summer of 2021, during the Delta variant surge and way before the Omicron wave that hit last winter. For example, in Georgia, the Georgia Department of Corrections has not reported any new COVID deaths since March 14th, 2021, and last year halted all public reporting data. Among all the correctional systems in the United States, the Georgia Department of Corrections has the second highest case fatality rate, or percentage of those people who have reported infections and later die. So this has been a problem in Georgia for a long time,

whether that be with the old Atlanta prison farm or the current-day jails, prisons, and penitentiaries. I'm going to close out this episode with this little tidbit from one of the conversations I had with members of the Atlanta Community Press Collective. I think just something that's continuously not addressed. I know a lot of people like to focus on positive things or more inspiring things, I guess, as far as prison stuff goes, because I know I've had people repeatedly ask, like, hey, were there strikes? Were there uprisings?

Which is really inspirational, I agree. But there's also a really, really sad history that a lot of people aren't addressing in how many people died by suicide here or attempted to die by suicide. And it's really sad that no one seems to care about that aspect, that there were horrific atrocities, there were frequent rapes and beatings. There's a photo from the AJC that literally says black woman, I think it's like from the forties and they are moving around chemically infused sludge. It literally says sludge as fertilizer.

We have proof of these atrocities and people just like to focus on things of like oh hey there was arsenic in a lake I've never been able to find anything about that I have no idea where that came from I'm not saying it didn't happen but there are so many concrete examples of horrific things that happened here we don't need to make up stories. They exist and they're here. You just have to pay attention and read about it. There's literally a woman who attempted suicide six times

because she hated being in the hole so bad, the isolated confinement cell labeled the hole, like six times and nobody addresses this kind of stuff even as forest offenders like we owe it to ourselves to educate

our community about exactly what happened here even the worst of it and then we'll go fucking rave in the woods because you've got to take care of yourself too. But even as we acknowledge this land, we need to know the history of it too. That does it for us today.

In the next episode, we'll be going over the details of possible grave sites and how further research into the prison farm could be done, as well as more updates on the happenings in the fight to defend the Atlanta forest. See you on the other side. Could Happen Here is a production of Cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from Cool Zone Media, visit our website, coolzonemedia.com, or check us out on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts.

You can find sources for It Could Happen Here updated monthly at coolzonemedia.com slash sources. Thanks for listening. You should probably keep your lights on for Nocturnal Tales from the Shadow of Wrath. Join me, Danny Trails, and step into the flames of fright. An anthology podcast of modern day horror stories inspired by the most terrifying legends and lore of Latin America. Listen to Nocturnal on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, five-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez was found off the coast of Florida. And the question was, should the boy go back to his father in Cuba?

Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home, and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Cuba. Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Curious about queer sexuality, cruising, and expanding your horizons? Hit play We'll see you next time. Sniffy's Cruising Confessions. Sniffy's Cruising Confessions will broaden minds and help you pursue your true goals. You can listen to Sniffy's Cruising Confessions, sponsored by Gilead, now on the iHeartRadio app or wherever you get your podcasts.

New episodes every Thursday. The 2025 iHeart Podcast Awards are coming. This is the chance to nominate your podcast for the industry's biggest award. Submit your podcast for nomination now at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. But hurry, submissions close on December 8th. Hey, you've been doing all that talking. It's time to get rewarded for it.

Submit your podcast today at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. That's iHeart.com slash podcast awards.