I Can’t Breathe & I’m In Prison

Willie "Fareed" Fleming

Willie "Fareed" Fleming

In America, we’re hearing the phrase “I can’t breathe” way too often these days.  We normally hear it as life is taken from unarmed African American males at the hands of racists officers.  There’s another place “I can’t breathe” is being heard.  That’s in our prisons.  I can’t breathe is being yelled by those dying to officers as well as those dying to the cornavirus.  Check out this unbelievable, heartwrenching story of an incarcerated Loved One, Wille “Fareed” Fleming as he battled coronavirus behind the prison wall…

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art
with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” – Psalm 23:4 

When I was a little boy in Sunday school memorizing that verse back in the 60ty’s, I envisioned
a slim pathway between two mountains, boulders or something that was way out in the middle of
nowhere; and in a place where a lion or bear- or even a human enemy would be tracking me and
trying to take me out. I never would have thought that the predator would be the coronavirus.
Forty days ago, the coronavirus arrived at the Wynne Prison Unit in Huntsville, TX. We knew it
was here because men started falling out and everyone was manifesting the symptoms that were
being warned about on television such as dry coughing, fever, an inability to breathe and extreme
fatigue.

The first order was to socially distance. Well, how do you do that in prison? Especially on a unit
where the cells are 8X10 feet and shared with a cellmate and the showers are communal.
Nonetheless, the practice of “socially distancing” started on April 3rd. I know because I was
scheduled to go give a sermon that day in the chapel and we all had to readjust to meet the social
distance guidelines. The Chaplain and I were in his office talking and going over the sermon
notes when he started coughing and feeling fatigued. Three weeks later, he died from the
coronavirus.

I knew I had contracted it from him and by this time I was beginning to have few symptoms, as
was the whole wing where I was housed. My cellmate, who was twenty years younger than me,
had foot bruises and a dry cough which he thought were as a result of the virus. Every one up
and down the row of 28 cells felt that they had some type of symptom and then people started
passing out, falling down and yelling that they couldn’t breathe.

We would go to bed listening to see who was coughing the worst. We would ask, “Has Mike
made it back from Memorial Hermann?”(The hospital that most were rushed to.) Then we began
to notice the list of names just kept getting longer, and longer and longer. “Does anybody know
what happened to Bell, Rock, Phil, Jay, Howard, Milton, Flacco,the Irishman, Chi-town, G-Man,
Lil Man, Tiny, Bryan College Station, East Texas, Fifth Ward, Johnny Cochran? Man, there are
too many of us missing and the chaplain is dead!” The news said that there were 12 of “us” who
were dead. The rumors spread as quickly as the virus and the next then that happened was the
new name for the cell block- “The Death Block.”

I refused to entertain any negativity.

I woke up in the morning praying and reading the Word and fasting to stay spiritually strong; but
my dry cough wouldn’t stop. My chest was hurting slightly and I couldn’t smell anything. I was
always waiting for things to get just a little worse before I sounded the alarm.
Then, on April 28th, the officials started doing targeted testing for guys that were in the
vulnerable population. I was one of the ones tested.

I finally broke and told my wife, although I never told her about the symptoms because I
couldn’t have her worrying; but when I took the test I knew it would come back positive and it
did. They moved all of the offenders positive with the coronavirus to a block all by ourselves.
None of us were looking the other men in the eye. It was as if we were all being marshalled
together to die.

No sooner than we got settled in, the calls for help began. “I can’t breathe.”
Another man was having a heart attack and despair and depression had consumed the whole cell
block.

Mail quit coming, the officers working our block were donned in space suits and looked at us as
if we were already dead. The only food we received were sandwiches that were cold,
non-nutritious and never delicious. Then the water got turned off for five days due to a broken
pipe. It was as low as it gets. One day, I was in my cell writing my son a letter reminding him of
everything I ever taught him and the Holy Spirit quickened me to get up and start shadow
boxing.

I started swinging at the unseen enemy.

I fought him for about 30 minutes and then started doing a regimen of push-ups and other
exercises until I was dripping with sweat and I heard the verse, “ Yea though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” I heard that verse as I had never heard it
before. DAvid said, “AS I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF
DEATH,” not as I am overcome in the valley. Not respective of how death’s tail struck me on
the left cheek, but how I WALKED THROUGH, fearing now evil and taking comfort with his
rod (The Word) and his staff (The Holy Spirit).

I have made it through the valley, but death was on my every side. Many have passed away and
their faces are still fresh in my mind, but God saved me, covered me, guided me through and I
am grateful and thankful. I don’t know if all of the guys that were taken away are dead or just
being housed somewhere else, but I know they deserve to be checked on, remembered and
forgiven for many were redeemed and have regenerated their lives. They are great examples of
new creatures reconciled back to God.

Signed,
Willie “Fareed” Fleming

We Made It!! Fourteen Years Through the Wall!!

Wowwww!!!! What a day!!!! We Made it!!! Our family has been waiting for this day like forever!! So by now you already know my husband was sentenced to 22.5 years in prison. Due to a change in the law, All Drugs Minus Two orchestrated by Families Against Mandatory Minimums ~ FAMM, his sentence was reduced!!  He’ll get even less halfway house time due to the First Step Act also one of FAMM’s initiatives. 

One More Day and A Wake Up! 

So let me rewind to how we prepared for this day. I had a tough decision to make…Did I want to pick my husband up alone and let this be our moment, or did I want to include the rest of our family to witness this day we’ve all been waiting for? You know, I love my Mom and Dad!! I can honestly say we were truly blessed to have their support throughout this whole ordeal. I may be my husband’s ride or die but they are my ride or dies!! For real!!  For real!!! I’ve met so many prison wives who don’t have the support of their family which makes the journey even more difficult.

When the day was approaching, my mom told me she wanted to go. I knew my son wanted to go, but my emotionless daughter (she gets it from her momma… lol) put up a front like she didn’t want to go. Of course I knew better. My dad, well,  now that I’m thinking about it his reaction is emotionless too! So, I really had no clue if he wanted to go or not.

Deep down My Mister wanted me to come alone but when I told him my mom wanted to be there he was like ok! Well, we can’t say no to Ma and Dad! Our time is coming.

My nervousness had calmed down the closer the day got to my husband being released. Me and the kids packed everything he needed for the halfway house the night before. We did the best we could guesstimating since we didn’t know his actual size and packed some foods we thought he’d like. I told my daughters I felt like I was packing for a college dorm room! They stayed awake while I tried to get some sleep. Our communication had been cut off for three days. So all I could do was imagine how he was feeling knowing he would be free the next morning.

The Wake Up!

We woke up at 4:00 am to get ready for our new beginnings!! We arrived thirty minutes early at the prison. I can’t believe he had the nerve to tell me he wanted me there thirty minutes early because he thought I might be late!! Really Bae, Really? Did he really not know how long I’ve waited for this day?!?!  Did he really think I would be late for his freedom?

Once we arrived, we sat in the truck all giddy.  We passed the time by cracking on each other, laughing, and trying to predict how all of this was going to play out.   We started to question should we just continue to sit or do we let the Base workers know that we were there to pick up someone being released. I couldn’t take any chances messing anything up so I walked to the guard and she told me to be looking out for a van that would come to our parking lot to drop my husband off.

It’s now 7:45 am!! We only had 15 more minutes!! Every white van that drove by had us nervous!! We would watch the van pull up, get nervous and excited, and then watch the van drive off the base. This went on for the next 30 mins. We finally saw a van pull up and turn into our parking lot!! I think we all went silent for a few seconds as we watched the van pull into the parking lot and the doors fly open!!

Free At Last!!

Oh My God!!! Oh My God!!! One man stepped out the van with his gear and then my Mister stepped out!!!!! We ran through the rain and well you can check it out for yourself below.

 

One of the best parts was surprising my husband with his daughter who he was literally talking to on facetime but had no idea she was facetiming him from the car!

The entire day was so surreal!! Just having my husband in the car with us was “weird” as my son says but in a good way!! When he got in the car he pulled out his mp3 player for us to hear a song that got him through his tough days. It was so cute because he really was adamant about getting an aux cord to hook this mp3 player up. We started trying to think of ways to make this thing work and then it hit us! Just tell us the name of the song. We can pull it up on our phone and play My Testimony by Marvin Sapp. We listened to the words as he sang along with it. Then I shared my get through song, Praise is What I Do by William Murphy.

The rest of the ride was good conversation, facetime reunites, extended hugs and kisses we couldn’t share at visit until my son sat between us!! It was good to see and hear pure joy as My Mister took in his new freedom!!

If you have an incarcerated loved one, keep the faith!!  Don’t give up on them!!  Be their voice when you have to!! And in the words of my favorite song:

I vow to praise You
Through the good and the bad
I’ll praise You
Whether happy or sad
I’ll praise You
In all that I go through
Because praise is what I do
‘Cause I owe it all to You

 

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Waiting for Our Prison Break

No, we’re not waiting on a real life prison break, but we are waiting on a permanent break from prison!  It’s long overdue…

I wouldn’t have thought that the day my then-fiancé left home for the morning and hollered to me, “Baby, I’m gone,” that he would be gone for 12 years—literally—and he’s still gone. I often reflect back on his last words as a free man as he walked out the door.

My husband was arrested that day in 2005 and charged with drug conspiracy, money laundering, and gun possession. I was pregnant with our son, and our daughter was three years old at the time of his arrest. Our children are now in middle school and high school. We’ve done the best we can to maintain our family bond through the wall via visits, letters, emails, and phone calls. When my husband was first sentenced, we talked every day, but that eventually had to be lessened to once a week because the calls got too expensive. We then turned to more letter writing and eventually email. Out of all these years, we probably have visited only about 20 times due to the cost to travel so far to see him.

When we see each other, my husband is literally seeing the results of the stages of life that our children have gone through that he hasn’t been a part of. He has watched our children grow from infancy to childhood, to adolescence. I’m hoping and praying he doesn’t have to just watch them grow into young adulthood, and that he’ll be able to experience that growth with them. We have even watched each other change over the years from young adults to middle-aged. My Mister entered prison in his twenties and will be 40 this year. When I was visiting last time, he saw a gray strand of hair on my head for the first time! I think that gray strand of hair shocked us both into reality and reminded us of how long we’ve been at this prison thing and how we still have a while to go. I couldn’t help but imagine how long the couple seated near us had been visiting each other. He had come out gray-haired, wrinkled, and on a walker to visit with his wife, who was just as gray and wrinkled as he was.

With fewer visits and the children being caught up in their young teenage years, there are times that the kids don’t communicate with their dad as much as he’d like them to. It’s left up to me to keep the lines of communication open. So in addition to the stress of not having his freedom, he is also struggling with the fact that he sometimes feels like he’s not important to his children. The children also struggle with why their dad made some of the choices he made that put him where he is today. I try to explain to them that everyone’s lives go in stages. And people do make mistakes. However, some mistakes are more costly than others. I do believe that my husband made a mistake and is now paying the consequences for his mistake. He has served 12 years of his 22-½-year sentence, which is more than enough time to pay for his mistake.

Just as my husband has been made to come forward and admit his mistake, at what point will something be done about the mistakes that are made with harsh sentencing laws? How long must someone suffer for a nonviolent mistake of their youth?

My husband was raised by his father, who believed in a tough-love approach to parenting. He had to fend for himself at an early age. What he sought in life more than anything was his father’s approval. His father was able to visit with him and see the man he was praying for him to one day be. Unfortunately, he passed and they won’t be able to spend time together. Though he will not be able to spend time with his father, he still would like the opportunity to make new memories with his mother.  He is looking forward to the day they can be together again.

Before prison, though my husband appeared to have himself together to others, he was dying inside, from a young age. During his teenage years, he began to live a rebellious lifestyle. He graduated from high school and attended college, where he became even more rebellious. It was during those years that his life really began to spiral out of control as he began an addictive lifestyle of selling and using drugs. The streets made him a different person. Even through that rebellious stage, my husband still managed to graduate from college with a B.S. in Business.

He has realized the impact that his bad choices have made upon his family. It pains him daily to know that his actions have caused his children to grow up without him. He can’t wait for the day to experience life as a free father to his children, teaching them life lessons, becoming a productive member of society, and advocating for justice reform. It pains us daily to know that my husband has made the necessary efforts through rededicating his life to Christ, self-rehabilitation, attending classes, and good behavior, yet he still continues to serve time for a decade-old crime—as is the case with many incarcerated women and men.

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