Yergan Jones, CEO of American Sound Design and AEE Productions, was sentenced Monday, Dec. 15, 2025, in Miami federal court to one year and nine months in prison for his role in the fraud scheme of former Jackson Health Foundation executive.
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Betrayal of Trust
Former Jackson Health Foundation COO Charmaine Gatlin pled guilty to bilking millions in charity funds. A look at the investigation.
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An Atlanta businessman who paid millions in bribes to an executive for the charity arm of Miami-Dade County’s public hospital system was sentenced Monday to one year and nine months in prison — thanks to his cooperation with federal authorities early on in the fraud investigation.
Yergan Jones, 63, president of an audiovisual company, pleaded guilty in August in Miami federal court to conspiring to commit fraud with Jackson Health Foundation’s former chief operating officer, Charmaine Gatlin. She approved 53 wire payments totaling $2.1 million to Jones, even though he provided no services to the Foundation between 2019 and 2024.
In return, Jones kicked back 74 payments via wires and checks totaling about $1.1 million to Gatlin, 52, who used the money to buy luxury Italian and French handbags, vacations in the Caribbean and a membership at an upscale golf club near her home in Weston.
During the sentencing hearing, U.S. District Judge Jacqueline Becerra chastised the out-of-towner for conspiring with Gatlin to steal millions of dollars from the nonprofit charity benefitting the county-subsidized Jackson Health System, as she stressed the importance of its healthcare services, especially for Miami-Dade low-income patients.
Where did the money go?
“In terms of fraud, this is as serious as it gets,” Becerra told Jones. “This is absolute rank, gross, disgusting greed.”
At one point, the judge asked Jones’ defense attorney what the defendant did with the $1 million he kept in the billing scheme directed by Gatlin. “Where is that money?” Becerra asked.
“Some of it went into his business,” attorney Hector Flores told her. “Some of it went into everyday life,” including a leased Porsche.
In addition to prison time, the judge ordered Jones to pay about $2.1 million in restitution to Jackson Health System, along with imposing a $1.1 million forfeiture judgment that represents his portion of the ill-gotten funds stolen from the Foundation.
According to court records, Jones plans to make a payment this month of $783,000 — funds that will go toward repaying the Foundation that raises money for Jackson Health System. Jones said he plans to sell his Atlanta business and other assets to pay back more of the stolen money.
“I will continue to work until every dollar is repaid,” Jones told the judge, as he apologized for his crime. “I stand before you today fully accountable.”
Becerra reluctantly allowed Jones to surrender on Feb. 21 to prison authorities in Atlanta, mainly because the judge said she wanted him to sell his audiovisual business and repay as much money as possible to the Foundation and Jackson. She almost made him surrender at the end of January, but allowed him a few extra weeks of freedom after he said that his daughter will be getting married in mid-February.
The judge reached her decision on Jones’ prison term after federal prosecutor Elizabeth Young recommended that he receive a one-third reduction on his originally recommended sentence of 2-1/2 years because of his early assistance to the FBI and U.S. Attorney’s Office in Miami.
While Young called his crime “an obviously egregious fraud scheme” because the Foundation and Jackson received no services for his theft, she noted that Jones is at least trying to back the stolen funds.
She also pointed out that his co-conspirator, Gatlin, the leader of the billing scheme, committed a far worse crime, including stealing $55,000 in charity funds meant for burn victims at Jackson.
Stealing funds meant for Jackson patients
At Monday’s sentencing nearing, the Foundation’s chief executive officer, Flavia Llizo, said Gatlin and Jones “didn’t just steal money. They stole hope.”
“They chose to steal from people they never met — patients fighting for their lives, families in crisis, neighbors who depend on Jackson for hope and healing,” Llizo told the judge.
By comparison, last Wednesday, Gatlin was given a harsher sentence of six years and eight months by U.S. District Judge Beth Bloom. She pleaded guilty in September to a wire-fraud conspiracy charge accusing her of stealing about $7 million from her employer, involving Jones and several other vendors.
An unidentified man, left, escorts Arthur Gatlin and his wife Charmaine Gatlin, right, the former chief operating officer of the Jackson Health Foundation, for sentencing at Wilkie D. Ferguson Jr. Courthouse on Wednesday, Dec. 10, 2025, in Miami, Florida. Carl Juste cjuste@miamiherald.com
Gatlin, who was immediately sent to prison, must repay that sum to the Foundation — though she was only able to pledge $30,000 borrowed from a family member. She also faces a $1 million forfeiture judgment that accounts for the illicit funds Jones kicked back to her.
Gatlin came to know Jones when they worked on charitable projects for a mentorship organization in Atlanta, where she had worked before she was hired by the Foundation in 2014.
Before Jackson officials learned of her theft of the Foundation’s funds in the fall of 2024, Gatlin was making about $300,000 as the Foundation’s chief operating officer and was being considered for its top job as chief executive officer.
Terminated in November
But in late October, she was put on paid administrative leave while an internal investigation “related to potential misconduct” got underway. In early November, she was “terminated for cause” by the Foundation’s chairman. Her termination letter, obtained by the Miami Herald, did not elaborate.
Jackson officials alerted the FBI and federal prosecutors.
In May, Gatlin was arrested on charges of fleecing $3.6 million from her former employer, fabricating fake invoices from vendors — including Jones — and receiving kickbacks from them. Her defrauding of the Foundation, however, surpassed that figure as FBI agents dug deeper into her theft. Her billing scheme also extended well beyond Miami, according to an indictment and other court records.
In his plea, Jones admitted that he submitted dozens of invoices to Gatlin through his company, American Sound Design, that were for “audiovisual services that did not occur” at Jackson Health System or the Foundation.
Instead, those services were provided by his company to a civic organization in Atlanta, according to court records. The Herald confirmed that the organization is 100 Black Men of America, with chapters nationwide including South Florida. While at the Foundation, Gatlin continued to work with them as a part-time volunteer while Jones was a contractor for the organization.
“At times, Charmaine Gatlin instructed [Jones] how to falsify invoices to the Foundation for services ASD did not provide,” according to a factual statement filed with his plea agreement signed by him, defense lawyer Hector Flores and the prosecutor, Young.
For example, on Jan. 7, 2024, Jones emailed Gatlin’s personal email with a draft invoice extending audiovisual equipment at the Jackson “Holiday Parties” for two “additional days” for a total of $50,172.50, the statement says. The following day, Gatlin responded: “Get [the bill] to $58,477. When you email it over ask for the status of the payment.”
On Jan. 16, Gatlin wired that same amount to the bank account of Jones’ company, ASD, which did not provide the invoiced audiovisual services at Jackson or the Foundation, according to the statement. Two days later, Jones wired a kickback of about $25,000 to Gatilin’s personal bank account — then, Jones made a $20,000 payment on his American Express card using the Jackson funds.
In other instances, “to conceal the kickbacks, Charmaine Gatlin sent [Jones] false invoices making it appear as though she was consulting for” his company, American Sound Design, the statement says.
On Jan. 31, 2021, for example, Gatlin emailed Jones the following false invoices: Jackson Rehab Ribbon Cutting ($29,625); MTI 50th Anniversary/Jungle Island ($21,625); Virtual Conference Jackson Residents ($26,215), and Jackson Covid Media Village ($43,562.50).
“These payments were kickbacks to Charmaine Gatlin for paying [American Sound Design] via the Foundation,” the statement says.
At Jones’ sentencing on Monday, Becerra zeroed on how long he collaborated with Gatlin in her billing scheme over six years. She discounted the words of a few of his supporters who appeared in court, including a pastor from his church in Atlanta.
“It went to line your pockets so you could live a life better than the life you were living,” Becerra told Jones. “I cannot understand how you ended up doing this except for greed.”
This story was originally published December 15, 2025 at 6:45 PM.
Leslie Harris has missed most milestones in his daughter’s life while serving a decades-long sentence in Louisiana for armed robbery and is unlikely to get out before her prom, her graduation and maybe even her wedding.
But for one night at Louisiana’s largest maximum-security prison, Harris made his own moment with his 17-year-old daughter while donning a custom tux and clutching a bouquet of roses: reuniting at the prison’s first father-daughter dance, where they embraced to Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely” at a pink-heavy party this month that was widely shared on social media.
“Seeing her in a dress, crying and running to me just broke me down,” said Harris, who has nine years left on his sentence, in a phone interview from the Louisiana State Penitentiary. “It made me think of all the years I missed out on in her life.”
This photo provided by God Behind Bars shows a prisoner at the Louisiana State Penitentiary embracing a loved one before a father-daughter dance held inside the lockup in Angola, La., on Saturday, Nov. 22, 2025.
God Behind Bars via AP
The lockup is the latest in the U.S. to hold a daddy-daughter dance, including one in Washington D.C. that was featured in the Netflix documentary “Daughters” last year. In Louisiana, prison officials say the dance could become another tradition at the rural lockup in Angola, which every October hosts the country’s last remaining prison rodeo. It has more than 6,300 prisoners, including dozens of people on death row, and is on the same grounds where a notorious lockup was converted into an immigration detention facility in September.
Assistant Warden Anne-Marie Easley said she hoped the dance would bring a sense of hope that can be elusive in a prison where many are serving decades-long or life sentences. For some men, it was a chance to reunite with their daughters for the first time in months or even years – an opportunity to rebuild relationships and heal wounds. For others, it meant a night where they wouldn’t be seen as an inmate but rather a dad.
The prison picked nearly 30 inmates to participate due to good behavior, among other factors. Videos posted from the event showed fathers in tuxedos – complete with pink boutonnieres – breaking down in tears as their daughters ran up to them in sparkly dresses, shrieking with excitement. They reunited in the middle of a pink carpet overlayed with petals, with breezy drapes hanging overhead. A dance space was setup in the prison’s Bible college.
This photo provided by God Behind Bars shows prisoners at the Louisiana State Penitentiary before a father-daughter dance held inside the lockup in Angola, La., on Saturday, Nov. 22, 2025.
God Behind Bars via AP
The dance was put on by God Behind Bars, which hosts other reunification events and religious services in prisons nationwide. In videos the group posted before the dance, some prisoners said they wanted to apologize for all the years they missed. Others called the dance the most important prison visit of their lives.
The night included the men surprising their daughters with a line dance after weeks of practice. For Harris, the best part was when he and his daughter slow danced to ‘Butterfly Kisses,’ a song about a dad’s unconditional love for his daughter.
In that moment, Harris said memories rushed back of life before prison, when his daughter was just 2 years old. How she would sleep on his chest, play with his hair and how he would buy her little dresses. Before the night was over, he gave her a Bible with passages he highlighted.
This photo provided by God Behind Bars shows prisoners at the Louisiana State Penitentiary during a father-daughter dance held inside the lockup in Angola, La., on Saturday, Nov. 22, 2025.
God Behind Bars via AP
“That’s really the heart of it at the end of the day,” said Jake Bodine, founder of God Behind Bars. “Show these individuals who is counting on them and once they realize the weight of that, they will hold themselves accountable for change.”
The man accused of killing three people and wounding nine others at a Planned Parenthood clinic in Colorado Springs a decade ago died in custody over the weekend, according to the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
Robert Dear, 67, died at 6:30 a.m. Saturday in the U.S. Medical Center for Federal Prisoners in Springfield, Missouri, Bureau of Prisons spokesperson Randilee Giamusso said. His death was “preliminarily linked to natural causes,” Giamusso said Tuesday, and prison officials followed advanced medical orders before he died.
Dear’s death ends a decade-long — and ultimately unsuccessful — effort to convict him of crimes connected to the mass shooting. Although Dear had been in state or federal custody since the 2015 attack and confessed to carrying out the mass shooting, he was never convicted because he was always considered to be too mentally ill to go through the court process — that is, he was consistently found incompetent to stand trial.
Fourth Judicial District Attorney Michael Allen said in a statement Tuesday that the victims of the shooting were denied justice in the “evil attack.”
“All three victims and this community deserved the full measure of justice in this case, but they are now denied that possibility,” Allen said. “Their family members and loved ones have endured this horror for far too long.”
The Bureau of Prisons declined to provide any additional information about Dear’s death and officials with the Greene County Medical Examiner’s Office did not immediately return requests for more information.
Dear’s attorneys did not respond to requests for comment Tuesday.
Dear was accused of attacking the Planned Parenthood clinic on Nov. 27, 2015. Authorities believe he intended to wage “war” on the clinic because the staff performed abortions. He arrived armed with four SKS rifles, five handguns, two more rifles, a shotgun and more than 500 rounds of ammunition, according to the U.S. Attorney’s Office.
Twenty-seven people who were inside the clinic at the time hid until they could be rescued by law enforcement, according to prosecutors. Dear fired 198 rounds in the attack and tried to blow up propane tanks to take out law enforcement vehicles during a five-hour standoff.
A competency evaluation considers whether a criminal defendant is mentally ill or developmentally disabled, and whether that mental illness impedes the defendant’s ability to understand the court process. Rooted in the constitutional rights to due process and a fair trial, competency centers on two prongs — whether defendants have a factual and rational understanding of the proceedings, and whether defendants are able to consult with their attorneys and assist in their own defenses.
Experts previously testified that Dear understood the facts and circumstances of his case but was still incompetent to proceed because he could not assist in his own defense.
Dear was known for frequent outbursts in court. During a 2019 hearing, he declared himself to be a “religious zealot” who was being prosecuted in a “political kangaroo court.” In 2021, he insisted in federal court that he was competent to stand trial, shouting, “I’m not crazy.”
In September, a federal judge started the process for Dear to be committed long-term to the mental health facility in Missouri after finding he was unlikely to be restored to competency.
The decision came nearly three years after the judge ordered that Dear be medicated against his will in 2022. Federal prosecutors believed doing so would restore him to competency.
A Louisiana man who spent nearly three decades on death row has been released on bail Wednesday after his conviction was overturned earlier this year.
Jimmie Duncan had originally been convicted of first-degree murder in 1998 after prosecutors accused him of raping and drowning 23-month-old Haley Oliveaux, the daughter of his then-girlfriend Allison Layton Statham.
Fourth Judicial District Court Judge Alvin Sharp threw out that conviction in April after hearing expert testimony that the forensic evidence which put Duncan behind bars was “not scientifically defensible” and that Oliveaux’s death appeared to be the result of an “accidental drowning.” Similar faulty forensic bite mark analysis has led to dozens of other wrongful convictions or charges.
“The presumption is not great that he is guilty,” Sharp wrote in his order Friday granting Duncan bail, citing the new evidence presented at an evidentiary hearing last year and Duncan’s lack of prior criminal history.
This 2017 photo shows Jimmie Duncan, second from left, with family and friends at the Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola, Louisiana.
Mwalimu Center for Justice via AP
Duncan’s attorneys said in a statement that Sharp’s ruling earlier this year provided “clear and convincing evidence showing that Mr. Duncan is factually innocent.” They added that Duncan’s release on bail “marks a significant step forward for Mr. Duncan’s complete exoneration.”
Louisiana has one of highest wrongful conviction rates in nation
Since 1973, more than 200 people on death row have been exonerated, including 12 people in Louisiana, according to the Death Penalty Information Center. In Louisiana, which has one of the highest wrongful conviction rates in the nation, the last death row exoneration came in 2016. Earlier this month, a man who served decades in prison before being exonerated won election to serve as the chief recordkeeper of New Orleans’ criminal court.
Duncan, whose vacated conviction is still being reviewed by the Louisiana Supreme Court, was released after posting a $150,000 bond. He plans to live with a relative in central Louisiana.
Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill, who is pushing to hasten executions of death row inmates, said that Duncan should not be released on bail while the Louisiana Supreme Court reviews his case.
But the high court agreed to let a district judge rule on Duncan’s bail request.
During Duncan’s bail hearing in Ouachita Parish, the mother of the girl he was accused of killing told the judge that she had become convinced of Duncan’s innocence. Instead, Statham believed her daughter, who she said had a history of seizures, had accidentally drowned in a bathtub.
The Innocence Project said in a statement that in the weeks prior to her death Haley suffered from a series of seizures and injuries, including one that happened from a fall and led to a week long hospital stay. Warm baths could increase the risk of subsequent seizures, the statement said.
Her daughter “wasn’t killed,” Statham said according to court records. “Haley died because she was sick.”
Statham told the court that the lives of her family and Duncan “have been destroyed by the lie” she believed prosecutors and forensic experts had concocted.
Prosecutors had relied on bite mark analysis and an autopsy conducted by two experts later linked to at least 10 wrongful convictions, according to Duncan’s legal team, which described the pair as discredited “charlatans.”
Mississippi-based forensic dentist Michael West and pathologist Steven Hayne examined Oliveaux’s body.
Bite-mark analysis discredited
A video recording of the examination shows West “forcibly pushing a mold of Mr. Duncan’s teeth into the child’s body — creating the bite marks” later used to convict him, a court-filing from Duncan’s legal team stated. A state-appointed expert, unaware of this method, testified during trial that the bite marks on the body matched Duncan’s.
“The horror story that they put out and desecrated my baby’s memory makes me infuriated,” Statham said.
“I was not informed of anything that would have exonerated Mr. Duncan at all,” she added. “Had I been then, things would have turned out a lot different for Mr. Duncan and all of our families.”
An Associated Press review from 2013 found at least two dozen wrongful convictions or charges based on bite mark evidence since 2000.
“Bite mark evidence is junk science, and there is no more prejudicial type of junk science that exists than bite mark evidence,” M. Chris Fabricant, an Innocence Project lawyer representing Duncan, told the court during the bail hearing.
Hayne, the pathologist, is deceased. West has previously said that DNA testing has made bite mark analysis obsolete, yet he has defended his work in other cases that led to overturned convictions. The pair’s testimony led two Mississippi men, Levon Brooks and Kennedy Brewer, to serve a combined three decades in prison in two separate cases for the rape and murder of young girls until DNA evidence cleared them of the crimes.
Prosecutors are seeking to reinstate Duncan’s conviction and pointed to the 1994 grand jury indictment in his case as grounds for keeping him locked up, court records show. The office of Ouachita Parish District Attorney Robert Tew declined to comment, citing the Louisiana Supreme Court’s pending review.
Duncan was one of 55 people on death row in Louisiana, held at the state prison in Angola. After a 15-year hiatus, Louisiana carried out its first execution in March.
Duncan’s legal team described him as a “model prisoner” who helped other death row inmates obtain their GEDs and has “strong community support for his release.”
Two French prisoners escaped from jail after sawing through the bars of their cells and using bedsheets to get out of the facility, a prosecutor said Thursday.
Guards noticed the break-out shortly before dawn, the prisons’ authority said. The facility is in the eastern city of Dijon.
The pair “seem to have sawn through bars” and “fled using bed sheets,” Dijon prosecutor Olivier Caracotch said. He did not provide further details on how exactly they used the bedding.
Union official Ahmed Saih, who represents prison officers at the facility, said the inmates used “old-fashioned, manual saw blades”.
The fugitives are a 19-year-old man held in pre-trial detention since October 2024 for attempted murder in a drug-related case, and a 32-year-old man incarcerated since 2023 over threats and violence against a partner, Caracotch said.
A member of the prison staff stands behind the entrance door of the jail of Dijon central eastern France on November 27, 2025, from where two inmates escaped during the night from November 26 to November 27, 2025.
ARNAUD FINISTRE /AFP via Getty Images
“Warning about the risk of a jail break for months”
The prison break comes 10 days after another escape in the western city of Rennes. A 37-year-old convict, who had more than year left to serve for theft, fled during an outing with fellow prisoners to the city’s planetarium. It was not immediately clear if he had been caught. The prison’s director was fired by Gerald Darmanin, France’s justice minister who is pushing through a plan to lock up the most dangerous drug traffickers in supermax prisons.
France has some of the worst prison overcrowding in Europe, ranking third worst after Slovenia and Cyprus, according to a Council of Europe report published in July. In early October, the national average was 135 inmates per 100 places available. Dijon prison, built in 1853, is in poor condition, with 311 inmates for 180 places, according to the justice ministry.
“Prison is very hard here,” an inmate released on Thursday after eight months, told AFP. “There were three of us in a cell: two on bunk beds and one sleeping on the floor.”
Staff unions have complained that the state is neglecting normal jails as it moves narco criminals into new supermax prisons. Three prison directors’ unions criticized Darmanin in a statement on Wednesday, before the Dijon escape. They accused him of “devoting all the resources of a debt-ridden state” to the high-security prisons for those accused of drug trafficking and jihadist attacks, and neglecting the “vast majority” of other jails.
“While the justice minister parades around in overfunded facilities, other (prison) services are suffering,” they said in a joint statement.
Saih said there had been reports of saw blades found inside the Dijon prison, and that staff had “been warning about the risk of a jail break for months.” He called for more staff and better equipment, including “gratings that cannot be sawn through.”
Darmanin last week announced the Dijon facility was scheduled to receive $7.3 million, as part of a program to eradicate mobile phones from six French prisons.
Crumbling infrastructure has forced the closure of a low-security prison in San Pedro that has housed a host of infamous inmates over the years including Al Capone and Charles Manson, the Federal Bureau of Prisons confirmed this week.
Conditions at the Federal Correctional Institution Terminal Island, which houses nearly 1,000 inmates, have been a years-long problem. An assessment conducted last year by an architectural and engineering firm identified more than $110 million in critical repairs needed at the prison over the next 20 years. The prison is currently home to disgraced celebrity lawyer Michael Avenatti and former cryptocurrency mogul Sam Bankman-Fried.
More recently, officials discovered problems involving the support structure of the steam system used for heating the facility, which “prompted immediate action,” including the relocation of inmates, said Donald Murphy, a spokesperson for the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
“We take seriously our responsibility to safeguard the inmates in our care, our staff, and the broader community. Once we have assessed the situation further and ensured the safety of all those involved, we will determine the next steps for FCI Terminal Island,” Murphy said.
Entrance to the Federal Correctional Institution Terminal Island.
(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)
The prison, which opened in 1938, is the latest federal correctional facility to close over the past year amid serious budgetary and operational challenges, including severe staffing shortages, lack of funding to repair aging infrastructure, sexual assault of inmates and contraband across the prison system.
It is not clear how long the Terminal Island facility will be closed. Inmates will be moved to other facilities, though officials did not specify where, saying only that the agency is prioritizing keeping people “as close as possible to their anticipated release locations.”
Federal Bureau of Prison Director William K. Marshall III cited problems with underground tunnels containing the facility’s steam heating system in a memo to staff on Tuesday obtained by the Associated Press.
Ceilings in the tunnels have begun to deteriorate, causing chunks of concrete to fall and putting employees and the heating system at risk, he said.
“We are not going to wait for a crisis,” Marshall told employees. “We are not going to gamble with lives. And we are not going to expect people to work or live in conditions that we would never accept for ourselves.”
This isn’t the first time the prison has faced critical infrastructure problems.
BOSTON — Beacon Hill lawmakers are moving to increase protections for health care workers in response to skyrocketing acts of violence against nurses and other hospital staff in recent years.
A proposal approved by the state House of Representatives last week would set new criminal charges specifically for violence and intimidation against health care workers and require hospitals and state public health officials to establish new standards for dealing with security risks at medical facilities.
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The federal Bureau of Prisons is closing a lockup adjacent to the Port of Los Angeles that was once home to Al Capone and Charles Manson over concerns about crumbling infrastructure, including falling concrete that threatens to knock out the facility’s heating system, according to an internal memo obtained by the Associated Press.
Director William K. Marshall III told staff on Tuesday that the agency is suspending operations at the Federal Correctional Institution, Terminal Island, a low-security prison. It currently houses nearly 1,000 inmates, including cryptocurrency fraudster Sam Bankman-Fried and disgraced celebrity lawyer Michael Avenatti.
The decision to close the facility, at least temporarily, “is not easy, but is absolutely necessary,” Marshall wrote, calling it a matter of “safety, common sense, and doing what is right for the people who work and live inside that institution.”
FCI Terminal Island, opened in 1938, is the latest Bureau of Prisons facility to be targeted for closure as the beleaguered agency struggles with mounting staff vacancies, a $3 billion repair backlog and an expanded mission to support President Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown by taking in thousands of detainees.
A guard tower stands on the waterfront at Reservation Point behind security fencing at the Federal Correctional Institution (FCI) Terminal Island, a low-security federal prison for men operated by the Federal Bureau of Prisons at the harbor entrance to the Port of Los Angeles in Los Angeles, California on September 13, 2025. (Photo by Patrick T. Fallon / AFP) (Photo by PATRICK T. FALLON/AFP via Getty Images)
Marshall cited problems with underground tunnels containing the facility’s steam heating system. Ceilings in the tunnels have begun to deteriorate, causing chunks of concrete to fall and putting employees and the heating system at risk, he said.
“We are not going to wait for a crisis,” Marshall told employees. “We are not going to gamble with lives. And we are not going to expect people to work or live in conditions that we would never accept for ourselves.”
Bureau of Prisons spokesperson Randilee Giamusso, responding to the AP’s questions about FCI Terminal Island, confirmed that the agency is taking “immediate action” to “safeguard staff and inmates.”
Inmates at the facility will be moved to other federal prisons “with a priority on keeping individuals as close as possible to their anticipated release locations,” Giamusso said. In his memo to staff, Marshall indicated that the process could take several weeks.
The facility’s future will be decided once the Bureau of Prisons has “assessed the situation further and ensured the safety of all those involved,” she said.
The Bureau of Prisons has long been bedeviled by FCI Terminal Island’s aging infrastructure, Giamusso said. In April 2024, an architectural and engineering firm contracted by the agency identified more than $110 million in critical repairs needed over the next 20 years.
Site’s checkered past
The prison’s opening dates back to the 1930s and it has undergone many changes over the decades.
The first prisoners, 610 men and 40 women, filed into the new 21-acre federal prison near the southern end of Terminal Island on June 1, 1938.
Back then, the Terminal Island Federal Correctional Institution consisted of three cell blocks built around a central quadrangle, and cost $2 million to build.
In 1942, the U.S. Navy took control of the prison for use as a receiving station, and then as a barracks for court-martialed prisoners.
After the Navy deactivated the facility in 1950, the state of California took it over for use as a medical and psychiatric institution.
The state ceded control to the U.S. Bureau of Prisons in 1955, which converted the facility back into a low-to-medium security federal prison.
The prison has housed the famous and the infamous over the years.
Al Capone spent the last few months of his 10-year sentence for income tax evasion at Terminal Island in the late 1930s.
Two mug shots of American gangster Al Capone taken by Miami police in 1931. (Courtesy of Library of Congress )
In 1974, LSD guru Timothy Leary and Watergate co-conspirator G. Gordon Liddy were incarcerated there at the same time.
Sara Jane Moore came to Terminal Island in 1976 after her failed assassination attempt on President Gerald Ford. Hustler publisher Larry Flynt spent time there after shouting obscenities at a judge during one of his trials in the early 1980s; he was transferred after allegedly punching prison staff members.
The prison was coed, with women prisoners housed in a separate area, until overcrowding forced authorities to transfer the women to the federal prison in Pleasanton in 1977. It has been male-only ever since then.
During the 1970s, Terminal Island became known for escape attempts. In December 1979, the San Pedro News Pilot reported 12 escapes during a single 2 1/2-month period.
Fortification including more barbed wire and increased armed guards were added to dispel the facility’s “Club Fed” image in the early 1980s.
Other inmates included Wall Street fraud artist Barry Minkow of ZZZZ Best fame, automaker John DeLorean (briefly, following his drug trial), and jazz singer Flora Purim, who served 18 months for drug charges before the prison returned to its current all-male make-up.
The prison was rocked by a corruption scandal in the early 1980s that resulted in the indictment of six Terminal Island federal employees between 1982 and 1984. The charges involved bribes, cover-ups, marijuana sales to inmates and other types of corruption.
Up until that time, the scandal was the most serious in the history of the federal prison system, because of the high-ranking officials involved. These included Charles DeSordi, the prison’s former chief investigator of crimes committed, the highest-ranking federal prison official ever to be indicted.
In June, hundreds gathered in San Pedro to protest against U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s apparent use of Terminal Island as a staging area for its operations across Los Angeles County, but the prison was not involved in those concerns.
Officials from the ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles — which also share portions of Terminal Island — said at the time that ICE wasn’t using any of their properties for operations, despite the U.S. Department of Homeland Security’s request to L.A. to do so.
The prison system
Tuesday’s news of the closure echoes that of the agency’s federal jail in Manhattan in 2021.
The Bureau of Prisons, the Justice Department’s largest employer, has more than 30,000 workers, 122 facilities, about 155,000 inmates and an annual budget that exceeds $8.5 billion. But the agency’s footprint has shrunk over the last year as it wrestles with financial constraints, chronic understaffing and changing priorities.
An Associated Press investigation has uncovered deep, previously unreported flaws within the Bureau of Prisons, including rampant sexual abuse, widespread criminal activity by employees, dozens of escapes and the free flow of guns, drugs and other contraband.
In December 2024, in a cost-cutting move, the agency announced it was idling six prison camps and permanently closing a women’s prison in Dublin, California, that was known as the “rape club” because of rampant sexual abuse by the warden and other employees.
In February, an agency official told Congress that 4,000 beds meant for inmates at various facilities were unusable because of dangerous conditions like leaking or failing roofs, mold, asbestos or lead.
At the same time, the agency is building a new prison in Kentucky and, at Trump’s direction, exploring the possibility of reopening Alcatraz, the notorious penitentiary in San Francisco Bay that last held inmates more than 60 years ago.
Marshall, his top deputy and Attorney General Pam Bondi visited in July, but four months later, Alcatraz remains a tourist attraction and a relic of a bygone era in corrections.
In addition to failing facilities, the Bureau of Prisons has been plagued for years by severe staffing shortages that have led to long overtime shifts and the use of prison nurses, teachers, cooks and other workers to guard inmates.
That problem has only worsened in recent months, in part because of a hiring freeze and recruiting by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which has lured correctional officers away with promises of signing bonuses of up to $50,000.
In September, Marshall said the Bureau of Prisons was canceling its collective bargaining agreement with workers. He said their union had become “an obstacle to progress instead of a partner in it.” The union, the Council of Prison Locals, is suing to block the move, calling it “arbitrary and capricious.”
Southern California News Group staff writer Donna Littlejohn and columnist Sam Gnerre contributed to this report.
A Long Beach man who previously served time in prison for felony child abuse was arrested Tuesday on suspicion of torturing and murdering his 14-month-old daughter, authorities said.
The toddler’s father, Alfredo Munoz, 40, and stepmother Kelly Munoz, 34, were taken into custody in the 200 block of East Louise Street in connection with the child’s death, according to the Long Beach Police Department.
Officers initially responded to a hospital on Nov. 7 where the toddler was unresponsive with signs of severe trauma, police said. She was put on life support and died three days later. Her identity is being withheld.
Over the course of a two-week investigation, homicide detectives determined that the toddler had been a victim of ongoing abuse and that her death was a direct result of abuse from her father and stepmother, police said.
Both suspects are being held without bail at the Long Beach Jail, and detectives plan to present the case to the L.A. County district attorney’s office for filing consideration next week.
Alfredo Munoz was previously sentenced to four years in state prison in December 2021 after he pleaded no contest to one count of willful cruelty to a child causing possible injury or death, according to court records.
A law enforcement source confirmed the man charged in the prior Long Beach abuse case was the same man arrested Tuesday. The source spoke on the condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to discuss the case with the media.
Munoz had been released from custody at the time the alleged abuse of the now-deceased toddler took place.
Anyone with information regarding this incident is asked to contact Homicide Dets. Ethan Shear and Kelsey Myers at (562) 570-7244. Anonymous tips can be left at (800) 222-8477 or at www.lacrimestoppers.org.
A 24-year-old man has been ordered by a federal judge to pay nearly $48 million in restitution and sentenced to 10 years in prison for his role in the largest pandemic fraud scheme in the U.S., the Department of Justice said Monday.
Abdimajid Mohamed Nur of Shakopee, Minnesota, was one of the first 47 people charged in connection with the Feeding Our Future fraud scheme in 2022. Nur is also accused of bribing a juror in the case and later pleaded guilty to that charge.
He and six other defendants fraudulently received around $40 million between May 2020 and January 2022, according to the indictment filed in September 2022, though federal officials said that they stole more than $47 million.
Prosecutors said the scheme carried out by the seven people originated at Empire Cuisine and Market in Shakopee. The halal market enrolled in the Federal Child Nutrition Program in April 2020, and participated both as a site and meal vendor, according to court documents.
“Empire Cuisine and Market would be reimbursed for the cost of the food and meals it actually provided to the public,” the indictment said.
Nur and his co-conspirators “immediately opened several” food program sites and began falsely claiming to be serving meals to thousands of children per day, according to court documents. The meals would be reimbursed by the federal food program.
Court documents said Nur also created Nur Consulting LLC in April 2021 to receive and launder Federal Child Nutrition Program funds from Empire Cuisine and Market and other entities involved in the scheme.
Nur in September 2022 was charged with one count of wire fraud conspiracy, four counts of wire fraud, one count of conspiracy to commit money laundering and seven counts of money laundering, according to the indictment. He was found guilty in June 2024 of 10 of the 13 counts he faced.
The judge ordered Nur to pay a total of $47,920,514 in restitution and sentenced him to three years of supervised release to be served after his 10-year prison sentence.
A 24-year-old man has been ordered by a federal judge to pay nearly $48 million in restitution and sentenced to 10 years in prison for his role in the largest pandemic fraud scheme in the U.S., the Department of Justice said Monday.
Abdimajid Mohamed Nur of Shakopee, Minnesota, was one of the first 47 people charged in connection with the Feeding Our Future fraud scheme in 2022. Nur is also accused of bribing a juror in the case and later pleaded guilty to that charge.
He and six other defendants fraudulently received around $40 million between May 2020 and January 2022, according to the indictment filed in September 2022, though federal officials said that they stole more than $47 million.
Prosecutors said the scheme carried out by the seven people originated at Empire Cuisine and Market in Shakopee. The halal market enrolled in the Federal Child Nutrition Program in April 2020, and participated both as a site and meal vendor, according to court documents.
“Empire Cuisine and Market would be reimbursed for the cost of the food and meals it actually provided to the public,” the indictment said.
Nur and his co-conspirators “immediately opened several” food program sites and began falsely claiming to be serving meals to thousands of children per day, according to court documents. The meals would be reimbursed by the federal food program.
Court documents said Nur also created Nur Consulting LLC in April 2021 to receive and launder Federal Child Nutrition Program funds from Empire Cuisine and Market and other entities involved in the scheme.
Nur in September 2022 was charged with one count of wire fraud conspiracy, four counts of wire fraud, one count of conspiracy to commit money laundering and seven counts of money laundering, according to the indictment. He was found guilty in June 2024 of 10 of the 13 counts he faced.
The judge ordered Nur to pay a total of $47,920,514 in restitution and sentenced him to three years of supervised release to be served after his 10-year prison sentence.
Co-conspirator of suspended Osceola County sheriff pleads guilty to money laundering
WESH TWO NEWS ON CW STARTS NOW. FIRST TONIGHT, TWO MORE CO-DEFENDANTS IN THE CASE AGAINST SUSPENDED OSCEOLA SHERIFF MARCOS LOPEZ TOOK PLEA DEALS. TODAY. I’M JESSE PAGAN AND I’M MICHELLE IMPERATO LOPEZ’S ESTRANGED WIFE. AND ANOTHER CODEFENDANT. CHRISTINA DURAN. AN ALLEGED ILLEGAL GAMBLING OPERATION. THEY BOTH PLED GUILTY. WESH TWO HAYLEY CROMBLEHOLME IS LIVE AT THE LAKE COUNTY JAIL. HAYLEY. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR THEM? SO AT THIS POINT, ANY SENTENCE COULD BE FACING THAT’S YET TO BE DETERMINED. THAT’S GOING TO BE UP TO THE COURT TO DECIDE. BUT FOR ROBIN LOPEZ, AFTER SHE WAS RELEASED FROM THE LAKE COUNTY JAIL HERE THIS AFTERNOON, IT APPEARS SHE’LL BE AVOIDING PRISON TIME AND AVOIDING A FELONY CONVICTION. NOW THIS ALL COMES. THESE PLEA DEALS JUST DAYS AFTER COURT DOCUMENTS ALLEGE THAT DIOR WAS PREPARED TO TESTIFY THAT HE GAVE CASH IN AN ENVELOPE TO ROBIN LOPEZ FROM THAT GAMBLING OPERATION TO GIVE TO MARCOS. IN THIS VIDEO FROM BACK IN JULY, ROBIN LOPEZ WAS RELEASED FROM JAIL FOR THE FIRST TIME ON A CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT RACKETEERING CHARGE. WHAT IS THIS FOR? IT’S A WARRANT OUT OF LAKE COUNTY. SHE WAS ARRESTED AGAIN IN OCTOBER FOR PROVIDING FALSE OR MISLEADING INFORMATION OR OMITTING MATERIAL INFORMATION ON HER BOND APPLICATION, BUT MONDAY AFTERNOON, SHE LEFT THE LAKE COUNTY JAIL ONCE AGAIN AND BASED ON HER PLEA DEAL, IT DOESN’T SEEM LIKELY SHE’LL RETURN. THE AGREEMENT SAID LOPEZ IS CHANGING HER PLEA TO GUILTY ON A REDUCED CHARGE OF MONEY LAUNDERING AND PLEADING GUILTY TO THE CHARGE RELATED TO HER BAIL APPLICATION. IT SAYS SHE WILL FACE A MINIMUM OF 24 MONTHS PROBATION, BUT HER ADJUDICATION WILL BE WITHHELD. HER ATTORNEY, MICHELLE YARD, SAID IN A STATEMENT TODAY. ROBIN LOPEZ MADE THE DIFFICULT DECISION TO ENTER A PLEA IN HER CASES. THIS PLEA ALLOWS HER TO IMMEDIATELY RETURN HOME TO HER FAMILY AND MOVE FORWARD WITH HER LIFE. IMPORTANTLY, THE COURT HAS WITHHELD ADJUDICATION, MEANING THAT SHE HAS NOT BEEN FORMALLY CONVICTED AND WILL NOT CARRY THE LONG TERM CONSEQUENCES OF A FELONY CONVICTION. THIS DIFFICULT DECISION WAS MADE WITH CAREFUL CONSIDERATION AND IN THE BEST INTEREST OF HER FUTURE. WE SPOKE WITH CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY RAJAN JOSHI ABOUT WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN ON THE LINE IF ROBIN LOPEZ WAS CONVICTED. BEING A CONVICTED FELON WOULD HAVE BEEN LIFE CHANGING FOR HER, HE SAID. THAT KIND OF CONVICTION CAN IMPACT WHERE YOU CAN RENT AN APARTMENT, WHAT WEAPONS YOU CAN HAVE. AND IN SOME CASES, IF YOU CAN VOTE. ROBIN LOPEZ WASN’T THE ONLY CODEFENDANT TO STRIKE A DEAL MONDAY. KRISHNA DAREN, WHO INVESTIGATORS HAVE DESCRIBED AS AT THE HELM OF THE OPERATION, PLED GUILTY TO A MONEY LAUNDERING CHARGE, WITH THE AGREEMENT SAYING THE TIME HE WILL SERVE IS AT THE DISCRETION OF THE COURT. IT COULD MEAN A MAXIMUM OF FIVE YEARS IN PRISON. WITH THE PLEA DEALS REACHED MONDAY, MARCOS LOPEZ REMAINS THE ONLY CODEFENDANT ARRESTED TO NOT STRIKE A DEAL. WE ASKED JOSHI WHAT THAT COULD MEAN FOR HIS CASE. THAT’S NOT GOOD FOR SHERIFF LOPEZ BECAUSE HE’S THE LAST MAN STANDING, AND THEY’RE GOING TO HAVE SOMEBODY WHO’S GOING TO TAKE THE FALL FOR ALL THIS. EVERYONE ELSE CUT A DEAL, AND A LOT OF THE CO-DEFENDANTS ARE GOING TO BE TESTIFYING AGAINST HIM. NOW, WE DO EXPECT TO BE TESTIFYING IN THE CASE AGAINST MARCOS LOPEZ. AND ROBIN LOPEZ’S ATTORNEY SAYS HER CLIENT PROVIDED A SWORN STATEMENT TO PROSECUTORS TOD
Co-conspirator of suspended Osceola County sheriff pleads guilty to money laundering
A co-conspirator of suspended Osceola County Sheriff Marcos Lopez has pleaded guilty to money laundering, according to court records.Krishna Deokaran’s guilty plea came on the same day as the estranged wife of the former sheriff, Robin Severance-Lopez, pleaded guilty to money laundering Monday. While Deokaran never faced any racketeering charges, investigators described him as standing “at the helm of the operation, overseeing its financial and logistical framework.”Unlike Severance-Lopez, Deokaran is being adjudicated guilty by the court. Deokaran could face up to five years in prison, according to court records. His sentence is to be decided at a later date. Marcos Lopez is accused of receiving hundreds of thousands of dollars in payments from Deokaran in exchange for protecting the casino, the Eclipse Social Club Casino, where the illegal gambling ring was based in Kissimmee.Deokaran is expected to testify at the eventual trial for the former sheriff, but the date has not yet been set. >> This is a developing story and will be updated as new information is released.
LAKE COUNTY, Fla. —
A co-conspirator of suspended Osceola County Sheriff Marcos Lopez has pleaded guilty to money laundering, according to court records.
Krishna Deokaran’s guilty plea came on the same day as the estranged wife of the former sheriff, Robin Severance-Lopez, pleaded guilty to money laundering Monday.
While Deokaran never faced any racketeering charges, investigators described him as standing “at the helm of the operation, overseeing its financial and logistical framework.”
Unlike Severance-Lopez, Deokaran is being adjudicated guilty by the court.
Deokaran could face up to five years in prison, according to court records. His sentence is to be decided at a later date.
Marcos Lopez is accused of receiving hundreds of thousands of dollars in payments from Deokaran in exchange for protecting the casino, the Eclipse Social Club Casino, where the illegal gambling ring was based in Kissimmee.
Deokaran is expected to testify at the eventual trial for the former sheriff, but the date has not yet been set.
>> This is a developing story and will be updated as new information is released.
BOSTON — Beacon Hill lawmakers are moving to increase protections for health care workers in response to skyrocketing acts of violence against nurses and other hospital staff in recent years.
A proposal approved by the state House of Representatives last week would set new criminal charges specifically for violence and intimidation against health care workers and require hospitals and state public health officials to establish new standards for dealing with security risks at medical facilities.
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Before Gregory Berry could walk out of prison in December 2020 after more than 17 years behind bars for a murder he didn’t commit, he said he had faced a difficult choice: Agree not to sue for wrongful imprisonment or remain incarcerated for life.
Berry says his attorney told him that Wayne County prosecutors insisted on the waiver and that he had to make a decision soon whether to accept the offer. At the time, he says he was extremely ill with COVID-19 and feared he was going to die in custody. It was one week before Christmas, and he wanted to see his family.
It seemed like a great deal at first. He was serving a life sentence for his alleged role in a fatal shooting at a gas station in Detroit.
The case was rushed through so quickly that the judge acknowledged she had not been given time to review the file in advance, according to court files obtained by Metro Times.
“I only had about a day to consider the deal,” Berry says. “They told me the only way they would release me was if I took the plea. It’s unheard of.”
The Wayne County Prosecutor’s Office adamantly disputes that claim, calling it “completely untrue.”
In a detailed written response to Metro Times, spokeswoman Maria Miller said prosecutors “did not in any way make Mr. Berry’s plea contingent on an agreement that he agree not to file a civil suit.”
Miller added, “The CIU has never done that in any case. There is nothing that supports his contention.”
Miller said no such arrangement was discussed on or off the record and described Berry’s version as “completely disingenuous.”
“His voluntary no contest plea basically amounted to an effective waiver of his rights to file any lawsuit because he has a conviction arising from the criminal incident,” Miller wrote.
The Wayne County Prosecutor Office’s Conviction Integrity Unit (CIU), which investigates potential wrongful convictions, got involved in the case after Berry’s co-defendant Antonio Hamilton, an illiterate high school dropout, swore in an affidavit in 2016 that he lied about Berry’s involvement. During his original interview with police in 2004, Hamilton said a Detroit cop punched him, kicked him in the ribs, and choked him, demanding he say Berry gave him the gun and encouraged him to rob the victim. Hamilton also said he gave Berry the firearm after the shooting.
In exchange for testifying against Berry, Hernandez’s murder charge was reduced, even though he was the shooter, and he was sentenced to 13½ to 22½ years in prison. He was paroled in September 2019.
A second witness later came forward and passed a polygraph, saying Hamilton had given him the gun after the killing, which contradicts Hamilton’s original claim that Berry supplied and retrieved the weapon.
The DOJ complaint also alleges that dozens of people may still be imprisoned because of Simon’s tactics.
Hamilton said he told Simon about a cop beating him, but she “brushed it off.”
Berry says he would not have taken the plea if he had known about Simon’s controversial past.
“For them not to make me aware of the misconduct history of Barbara Simon and her coworkers — that was flat-out wrong,” he tells Metro Times. “If I had known her history, I would never have taken the plea. I would have fought for a new trial.”
He claims Wayne County prosecutors intentionally withheld Simon’s history from him so he would take the plea deal and not sue. In the years since his release, Berry has fought to withdraw his plea, arguing that he was misled, rushed, and deprived of critical information, including the CIU’s investigative file, which he has repeatedly requested.
His current attorney, Cecilia Quirindongo, argues in court filings that the CIU’s records about Simon should have been disclosed and constituted Brady material, which is evidence prosecutors are required to share if it could aid the defense. She also claims that requiring defendants to waive civil suits is “a customary practice” in Wayne County, a point the Wayne County Prosecutor’s Office strongly denies.
In August, a Wayne County Circuit Court denied Berry’s request to withdraw his plea. He plans to appeal.
The Wayne County Prosecutor’s Office countered that Newman explicitly placed Simon’s role on the record during the hearing.
“That was not a hidden fact,” Miller said.
Although Simon’s name was mentioned, Berry said he didn’t know about her controversial past.
The case dates back to September 2003, when 23-year-old Octavio Hernandez was fatally shot at 4:30 a.m. while pumping gas on Vernor Highway in Detroit. Berry and Hamilton were together that night. Berry admits he drove to the gas station but says he had no idea Hamilton was armed or intending to rob anyone. According to trial testimony, Hamilton fired the fatal shot, then dove through Berry’s car window as Berry sped away.
The case against Berry depended almost entirely on Hamilton. At Berry’s trial, Hamilton said Berry planned the robbery, provided the gun, and ordered him to commit the crime.
Two other witnesses testified that Berry was not involved, but they didn’t sway the jury, which found him guilty. He was sentenced to life in prison.
By late 2020, the CIU had concluded that Hamilton’s testimony was unreliable and that “significant problems” had emerged “that undermine the integrity of the verdict.”
On Dec. 18, 2020, Valerie Newman, head of the CIU, told Wayne County Circuit Court Judge Kelly Ramsey that a new trial would likely produce “a different result.”
“That is the reason why the prosecutor’s office agreed to vacate his convictions and sentence in this matter,” Newman told Ramsey.
Still, the prosecutor’s office said it could not substantiate “actual innocence,” and Berry was given a choice: Plead no contest to accessory after the fact, which carries a maximum penalty of five years in prison, or remain convicted of murder and serve the rest of his life in prison.
The judge then sentenced Berry to time served and ordered his immediate release.
“I’m certainly pleased to see that that information came forward to change your role in this unfortunate set of circumstances,” Ramsey told Berry. “And on behalf of the court, we wish you the very best.”
The transcript shows the hearing was hurried. The judge had received the file only that morning and noted from the bench that it was “too thick to go through.” Newman asked the judge to consult Berry about the charges because she could not recall all three. The plea form wasn’t transmitted ahead of time, and the judge asked whether Berry’s attorney could sign for him if he wasn’t available.
Miller said the timing of the release reflected the realities of the pandemic. She noted it was Newman who coordinated with the Michigan Department of Corrections to ensure Berry could speak with his attorney both before and on the day of the hearing. The judge also “thoroughly questioned” Berry about his appellate rights, Miller said, and he stated on the record that he understood them.
Berry argues that he was manipulated by prosecutors. He was sick with COVID, the holidays were days away, the judge did not have the file until the morning of the hearing, the plea form was missing, and prosecutors had already acknowledged that the case was deeply flawed.
“They waited until I was sick with COVID and seven days before Christmas,” Berry said. “I feel like I got hoodwinked in that plea.”
Berry’s case raises new questions about how Wayne County prosecutors are handling convictions tainted by the work of Simon. Despite multiple federal lawsuits, millions in settlements, and findings that Simon coerced statements in other cases, prosecutors say they can only act on evidence specific to each case.
Exoneree Lamarr Monson, who spent nearly 30 years in prison after Simon obtained a false confession from him, recently filed a civil rights complaint with the U.S. Department of Justice warning that “men whose convictions were tied to Simon remain incarcerated, unable to secure justice due to lost files, missing evidence, and institutional resistance.”
Berry says he believes his case shows why “outside agencies should be looking at Barbara Simon,” and why defendants need full access to CIU records to make informed decisions.
“I don’t understand how the Prosecutor’s Office is going to police itself,” he says. “We are never going to get a fair investigation without outside oversight.”
For the past few months, Emmanuel Porter-Taylor and other young men housed at Colorado’s Youthful Offender System detention facility in Pueblo have complained to their parents about being hungry.
Meal portions seem to be getting smaller and smaller. The canteen, where incarcerated teens and young adults can buy snacks and other food items, is only reserved for those who have achieved higher privilege levels based on good behavior.
Porter-Taylor lost 20 to 30 pounds in recent weeks, his mother told The Denver Post. His eyes began to yellow. He couldn’t keep water down. Staff gave him Tylenol and told him to sleep, his mother, Ivory Taylor, said in an interview.
“Mom,” his mother said he told her last week, “I think they’re trying to kill me.”
The 22-year-old ended up in the hospital, where doctors concluded that his condition was caused by malnutrition, according to his family. When Porter-Taylor was stable, the hospital released him back to the detention center with a referral to see a kidney specialist as soon as possible. Doctors also said he needed to double his daily food intake, the family said.
Administrators at the state’s facility for young violent offenders said he’d have to wait six months to see a specialist, the family said. He was not given additional food.
On Sunday, Porter-Taylor was rushed back to the hospital, suffering from full renal failure, according to a letter sent by a juvenile justice advocate to a state senator. He was flown the following day from Pueblo to a Denver hospital.
His family, though, says they have no idea how he’s doing because the Colorado Department of Corrections reported they couldn’t find his “release of information” document, emails show. The family knows they filled it out.
“I want him to pay his debts and get out alive,” Taylor said of her son, who isn’t eligible for parole for two more years. “I don’t want to bury my 22-year-old kid.”
Parents say they’re worried their kids could be next. Ten mothers told The Post this week that they have watched their boys lose concerning amounts of weight over the past few months, as they complain about the lack of sufficient food at the 256-bed facility. Some have yellowing in their eyes. Others have fainted, become dizzy or found blood in their stool.
These accounts led a juvenile justice organization, the National Center for Youth Law, to sound the alarm and alert Colorado lawmakers and state corrections officials.
“They don’t even treat prisoners of war like this,” said one of the mothers. All but Taylor spoke to The Post on the condition of anonymity because they fear reprisal against their children.
A spokesperson with the Department of Corrections, which runs the Pueblo facility, declined to provide information on Porter-Taylor’s condition, citing federal and state privacy laws.
The department has gradually decreased the calorie count provided to those housed in the YOS detention facility in recent years to align with federal guidelines, said Alondra Gonzalez, a DOC spokesperson. Food is never withheld as a punitive measure, she said.
“All individuals in our custody receive appropriate food and medical care,” she wrote in a statement provided to The Post on Friday evening.
‘We hardly get anything’
The Colorado legislature established the Youthful Offender System, known as YOS, in 1993 in response to Denver’s “summer of violence,” a period marked by heightened youth homicides. Senate Bill 93S-009 provided the state with a new “middle tier” sentencing option, where certain youth offenders could be sentenced as adults directly into YOS.
These individuals “serve their sentence in a controlled and regimented environment that affirms dignity of self and others, promotes values of work and self-discipline, and develops useful skills and abilities through enriched programming,” corrections officials said in the 2024 YOS annual report.
The facility, which only houses violent offenders, was originally designed for those between the ages of 14 and 17 at the time of their offense, though a 2009 bill expanded the eligibility criteria to include 18- and 19-year-olds. Sentences cannot be shorter than two years and cannot exceed six years.
YOS touts a three-level model, designed to reward positive behavior. At level 3, individuals get unlimited visits and phone calls, video games, movies and free weights. They can also buy items such as deodorant or snacks from the canteen.
But those at lower levels cannot purchase food from the canteen, nor can they receive food packages from their family.
That leaves them reliant on prison meals that keep getting smaller and smaller, the parents who spoke to The Post said. Portions began to shrink a few months ago, these mothers said. One said entrees could fit in the palm of their hand.
Breakfasts have included an English muffin and a sausage. Lunch could be beans with two tortillas. Dinner might consist of four mini corndogs and a cup of macaroni and cheese.
“You feed our dog more than what we get on our plate,” another parent recounted their teen telling them this week. “We hardly get anything.”
YOS menus provided to The Post by the Department of Corrections show a variety of different meals. One recent lunch included one slice of cheese pizza, a cup of tossed green salad with olives and croutons, one cup of canned fruit and one cup of punch. A recent dinner consisted of one cup of spinach lasagna, salad, a slice of Texas toast and peach crisp.
Parents say their children’s weight loss has been extreme and noticeable. Many lost as many as 30 pounds in less than two months.
Without the ability to send food through the mail or use their canteen funds, parents have been forced to feed their children as much as they can during in-person visits. That means relying on whatever the vending machine in the lobby has left. Sometimes, it’s nearly bare.
“When you see a dog on the street that hasn’t eaten in a week,” a third mother told The Post, “that’s what he looked like.”
One individual who was incarcerated at YOS until last month said he relied on the canteen to supplement their meals. Without it, “it would have been tough,” he said, speaking on the condition of anonymity because they’re still on probation and fear reprisal. Sometimes, those on higher levels would try and sneak food to their lower-level friends, he said, but they risked being demoted themselves.
Recently, a group of 12 young people wrote a letter to leadership requesting more food, among other changes, one parent said. The boy who wrote the letter got put in solitary confinement, they said.
Gonzalez, the DOC spokesperson, said the level system is a “standard correctional practice to promote positive behavior,” but that meals are never withheld as a punitive measure. The DOC is “reviewing the current phases to determine whether any adjustments are necessary.”
Last month, another mother wrote a letter to the DOC, pleading with leadership to address the food shortage and punitive commissary policy.
“Adequate nutrition is not a privilege,” this woman wrote in the letter, which was reviewed by The Post. “It is a fundamental necessity for health and rehabilitation.”
The mother said DOC never replied.
In response to inquiries from state Sen. Judy Amabile this week, a corrections official acknowledged that YOS did “reduce caloric intake” for inmates due to the agency’s dieticians and the Department of Human Services “agreeing that the average (body mass index) of YOS offenders was higher than what was considered healthy within the age group.”
The average age of YOS offenders has risen over time, which means less caloric needs, Kayla Shock, the DOC’s legislative liaison, said in an email reviewed by The Post. If an individual requires additional calories, they will be assessed by the medical provider and provided an additional snack, she wrote.
YOS data shows the average age inside the facility has increased to 19.1 years old in 2024 from 16.8 years old in 2007.
During fiscal year 2022-2023, males in YOS received 3,200 calories per day, while females received 2,600 calories, Gonzalez said. Beginning in 2024-2025, those numbers dropped to 2,700 calories for men and 2,200 for women.
Gonzalez said the agency changed its food allotments to align with federal standards updated every five years by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. When these updates occur, she said, the state’s team of registered dietitians reviews the changes to ensure their menus are up to date.
Amabile, a Boulder Democrat who has worked on juvenile justice bills, called the calorie reduction “surprising.”
“If they’re cutting the number of calories that kids get every day — which includes people of different sizes — I would want to know: Is that healthier for them or is that a cost-cutting measure?” she said.
‘I don’t know if my son’s alive’
Porter-Taylor’s biological mother and the woman who had been his legal guardian say they haven’t been able to get updates on their son’s condition.
In an email, a health services administrator told Taylor that “we don’t have anyone designated as the point of contact to release medical information.”
Both Taylor and his former legal guardian, who has the power of attorney and considers him her son, remember these documents being filled out.
“Now it’s been six days since this surgery and I haven’t heard from my son,” Taylor said, “I don’t know if my son’s alive or not.”
If the details surrounding Porter-Taylor’s malnutrition are true, then this facility “now more closely resembles a concentration camp,” Dana Walters Flores, senior program manager for the National Center for Youth Law, wrote in a letter to Amabile this week.
“Young people paying a debt to society by serving time in a secure facility are still our sons and daughters — to turn a blind eye while youth in the custody and care of the state of Colorado are starving is unconscionable,” she wrote.
[This story previously aired on June 26, 2021. It was updated on Nov. 8, 2025.]
Opponents feared boxer Christy Martin in the ring. However, it was at home where she fought her biggest battle – the one for her life
Christy Martin was a worldwide sensation in the boxing ring and was even on the cover of Sports Illustrated. She won 49 fights and was heading for 50. Away from the ring, however, Martin says she faced a different fight because her husband and trainer, Jim Martin, was abusive and controlling.
“I keep thinking of the people who will watch this and say, ‘How does a woman who’s so powerful … how is she not able to stand up for herself at home,’” asks correspondent David Begnaud.
“I know that people think that. But I didn’t have the same type of mental strength to overtake him,” Martin responds.
When Christy Martin finally tried to end the marriage – she says Jim went on the attack, beating and stabbing her, before pulling a gun. Moments later, he fired one shot into her chest, missing her heart by just inches.
Christy Martin survived that day in their Florida home. Jim Martin would then go on trial for attempted murder. Jim Martin’s attorney maintained it was Christy who attacked her husband, not the other way around.
“The way Jim described it … Christie …was extremely aggressive.,” defense attorney Bill Hancock tells Begnaud. “He was constantly afraid of physical attacks by her.”
Former world champion Christy Salters-Martin is credited with legitimizing women’s boxing. She is the only female boxer ever to appear on the cover of Sports Illustrated.
Getty Images
Prosecutors also wondered whether a jury would believe that a celebrated boxer would be beaten by her husband.
“She became famous beatin’ the hell out of people,” Begnaud comments to prosecutor Deborah Barra. “So — it’s pretty plausible that she might beat the hell out of her husband.”
“Absolutely,” Barra replies, but she says it’s not that simple.
“I think it’s a remarkable story because you have a world-famous champion boxer and she could still be in a domestic violence relationship, because that isn’t about physical strength. It’s about mental abuse.”
What would the jury believe?
The Coal Miner’s Daughter
On Sept. 5, 2025, Christy Martin walked the red carpet with one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, Sydney Sweeney, who plays Christy in the film about her life.
Christy Martin, left, and Sydney Sweeney at the AFI Fest 2025 premiere of “Christy” on Oct. 25, 2025 in Los Angeles. Sweeney stars in the movie based on the life of the former professional boxer.
Getty Images
CHRISTY MARTIN (to reporter on the red carpet): You know it was one thing to be in a Tyson fight. It’s another thing to be at a premiere with Sydney Sweeney.
Nearly 15 years earlier, life was very different for Christy.
On April 24, 2012, in a courtroom in Orlando, Florida, boxing champion Christy Martin boldly faced down her fiercest opponent yet: her ex-husband, James Martin.
PROSECUTOR RYAN VESCIO [in court]: What was the thought that went through your mind when you saw the defendant with that knife in the bedroom?
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: I said to him, “are you gonna kill me?”
David Begnaud: The last time you had seen Jim, he’s standing over you with a gun.
Christy Salters-Martin: You know … I thought about it a lot and how am I gonna react to being in the same room with him?
Hundreds of thousands of Court TV viewers watched as a prizefighter known for knocking out 32 opponents, testified that her much older and seemingly frail husband had nearly killed her.
Ryan Vescio: This case rose and fell on the credibility of Christy and Jim.
Prosecutors Ryan Vescio and Deborah Barra were worried that the jury would have their doubts about this matchup.
David Begnaud: She became famous beatin’ the hell out of people.
Deborah Barra: Exactly.
David Begnaud: So … it’s pretty plausible that she might beat the hell out of her husband.
Deborah Barra: Absolutely.
Barra says she believed Christy’s story — the good, the bad, and the bloody.
Deborah Barra: She was very open about her marriage. She was very open about everything. It was just very much matter of-fact, this is who I am.
Christy bared it all, starting with her childhood in the tiny town of Itmann, West Virginia.
Christy Salters-Martin: Itmann, West Virginia is … literally one mile from “Welcome to, Now leaving.”
Her father, John Salters, was a coal miner. As a fighter, Christy would brand herself “The Coal Miner’s Daughter.”
David Begnaud: I was … always out with my dad. We passed football, we passed baseball. I shot basketball.
She says her dad pushed her to dream big—with one excruciating exception: her love-life.
David Begnaud: When did you first realize you were a lesbian?
Christy Salters-Martin: I think I knew that I was attracted to women, fifth or sixth grade.
David Begnaud: Did you confide in anyone?
Christy Salters-Martin: No.
Christy Salters, right, kept her first girlfriend, fellow high school athlete Sherry Lusk, a secret from her family.
Richard Davidson
Christy lived a double life and kept her first love a secret. Fellow high school athlete, three years her senior, Sherry Lusk.
Christy Salters-Martin: She went away to college. … we tried to keep it together for a while. But distance and time and age and it just doesn’t work.
David Begnaud: Did you ever see circling back with her later in life?
Christy Salters-Martin: Um, no.
She says, eventually, her parents found that out she was gay and could not accept it. So, she moved out, went to college in Athens, West Virginia, and started boxing.
With no formal training, Christy won every amateur fight she entered.
Christy Salters-Martin: Just, you know, got hooked. I loved the sport.
Spotted by a promoter at one of those contests, Christy went pro. A little over a year later, 22-year-old Christy was offered formal training with a boxing coach named Jim Martin.
Christy Salters-Martin: I walked into the gym thinking, that I was going to meet this guy that, you know, wanted to train me. It was just the opposite.
The 47-year-old didn’t think that women belonged in the ring but saw dollar signs.
Christy Salters-Martin: … he thought … “It’ll be a sideshow, but I think I can get her in position where we can make some money.”
Christy says she just wanted to box—and so she put all of her faith—and trust—in her new coach.
David Begnaud: How much did Jim Martin know about your past?
Christy Salters-Martin: Jim Martin knew everything about my past. … I looked at him like … this guy’s gonna be my coach. And an athlete and a coach to have a really good bond … like they have to be able to get in your head. They have to know what makes you tick — in order to make you perform.
David Begnaud: Tell me about when the relationship with Jim went from professional to personal.
Christy and Jim Martin
Pat Orr
Christy Salters-Martin: It was ah, a few months … I was getting a lotta pressure from my family … to not be gay. It just seemed like it was easy.
But Christy also had a girlfriend in town. That is, until Jim found out.
Christy Salters-Martin: He said that he had called my dad. And my dad told him to just throw my stuff … in the ocean. … they didn’t want me. And so … I went the next day and married Jim.
David Begnaud: Really?
Christy Salters-Martin: Yeah. Because I felt like I had to.
The couple moved to Apopka, Florida, outside Orlando. They opened a boxing gym and worked on Christy’s career. Still living a double life, Christy was always dressed in pink.
Christy Salters-Martin: Jim, being very homophobic, would always tell me … at a press conference, if I’m fighting some girl that’s clearly there with her girlfriend ah, “Make sure you say somethin’ derogatory about her — sexuality.”
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN [at a fight press conference]: You big steroid d— bitch!
David Begnaud: Why did you continue to listen to him?
Christy Salters-Martin: Jim Martin convinced me that the world hated me. … I’m talkin’ about family, friends, the boxing world.
Then, her career took off. Spotted by a trainer who worked for the world-famous boxing promoter Don King, Christy became his first female fighter.
Christy Salters-Martin: I mean, to go to fight in Las Vegas … and King’s the promoter?
Christy Salters-Martin: That’s bigger than I could’ve ever dreamed.
But that was just the start.
In 1996, Don King made Christy Martin world famous when he featured her on a Pay-Per-View event headlined by Mike Tyson.
Jed Jacobsohn/Allsport
In 1996, King featured Christy in a fight on a pay-per-view event headlined by Mike Tyson. With tens of millions of people watching, Christy stole the show.
Her nose was split open and bloody by the third round, but Christy won.
Christy Salters-Martin: That was the most profitable bloody nose in boxing history. I mean … I’m bleeding everywhere. … and people are startin’ to take notice. “Wow, look at this woman. … she’s still fighting. … and she’s winnin’ the fight.”
Christy became the first female boxer to ever make the cover of Sports Illustrated. But with the fame, she says, came a tightening of Jim’s already firm grip.
Christy Salters-Martin: He would always say, “I’m gonna tell the world you’re a lesbian.” And for whatever reason — you know, I just wasn’t strong enough in me to say, “Go ahead …”
David Begnaud: I keep thinkin’ of the people who will watch this and say, “How does a woman who’s so powerful and strong and successful at being aggressive, how is she not able to stand up for herself at home?”
Christy Salters-Martin: I know that people think that. … that I should be strong and tough and all those things. But … I didn’t have that same type of mental strength to overtake him.
In 2001, Christy parted ways with Don King. By 2007 her career was on the ropes and, according to Christy, Jim had spent all of their money. Feeling that she had nothing left to live for, Christy tried some cocaine that Jim allegedly brought home.
Christy Salters-Martin: He throws a baggie down on the table. And he said one of the fighters gave it to him. … because … He was gonna get clean. And I let it lay there for a couple days. And then finally, I was, like, “You know what? Might as well just do this.” … And then it just — it was every day, all day.
She claims Jim became her supplier. She also says he had hidden cameras around their house, documenting her addiction.
Christy Salters-Martin: So, you know, it was all about blackmail.
David Begnaud: Do you believe that Jim was controlling?
Bill Hancock: To the extent that he was trying to help her with a drug problem, I do.
Jim Martin’s defense attorney Bill Hancock says if there were tapes of Christy doing drugs, they were meant to show her how aggressive she was when she was high.
Bill Hancock: He was a boxing coach, not a boxer. … he was always in fear of her aggression.
David Begnaud: Did you ever beat him?
Christy Salters-Martin: Did I fight back sometimes?
David Begnaud: Yeah.
Christy Salters-Martin: Absolutely. Yeah.
After 19 years of feeling controlled, Christy says she kicked the cocaine, and threw in the towel on the marriage.
Christy Salters-Martin: And I told him. I said, “I want out. I’m done –“
Christy had already consulted a divorce attorney, when she says she told Jim there was someone else: that high school sweetheart she thought she’d never see again, Sherry Lusk.
Christy Salters-Martin: When I told him, “I’m goin’ to see Sherry,” he said, “If you leave me, I will kill you.” And I stopped. I turned. And I looked at him right in his eyes and told him, “Do what you have to do.”
The Attack
Christy Salters-Martin: For 20 years, he told me that if ever I left, he would kill me.
Christy Martin says she knew she was signing up for a life-or-death battle with her husband Jim Martin when she reunited with her high school sweetheart Sherry Lusk in November 2010.
David Begnaud: So, in the days leading up to the attack, you saw Sherry several times, right?
Christy Martin says she knew she was signing up for a life-or-death battle with her husband when she reunited with her high school sweetheart in November 2010.
CBS News
Christy Salters-Martin: Yes. … I told him that I was leaving to go see Sherry. … And I told him I wanted a divorce.
The day before she was stabbed and then shot, Christy drove to Daytona, to spend the night with Sherry. Jim followed her there and then started texting and calling.
Christy Salters-Martin: He said to me that … he saw me greet her. … He also said that he was so close, he could touch me.
Jim’s trial attorney Bill Hancock says his client admits he was in Daytona that day, but he claims he was there to protect his wife.
Bill Hancock: Jim had to intervene one time previously because Christy was going to Daytona for her drug connection.
The next day, Christy decided to head home.
Christy Salters-Martin: I have to go back and either live or die, because I’m not gonna look over my shoulder for the rest of my life … So, I had no choice.
She says Jim was there when she arrived home.
Christy Salters-Martin: And so, I said, “My head’s killin’ me. I’m gonna lay down. Just as soon as my head stops hurting, I’m gonna go work out.”
She says she was lying on the bed, when she heard Jim talking.
Christy Salters-Martin: He’s on the phone with people tellin’ ’em, you know, that I’m a lesbian, that I’ve left him for a woman. … The entire time, he’s sharpenin’ a knife. … I can hear the knife sound [mimics sound].
Unable to sleep, Christy says she was putting on her running shoes, when Jim walked in and said he had something to show her.
Christy Salters-Martin: And then he … put his hand behind his back. … I, like, lean around … And I see that he has a knife stuck down his shorts. And I said, “What are you gonna do, kill me?” And it was, like, bam, instantly he stabbed me. Bam, bam, bam. … The fourth stab went through my breast. … And so … I try to kick him away from me. When I kicked him … he cut my calf muscle almost completely from my leg. … I’m trying to still fight with him … And at this time, I could feel he has a gun in his pocket.
Christy Martin suffered four deep stab wounds to her chest and gash in her left leg. “When I kicked him … he cut my calf muscle almost completely from my leg,” she said.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
It was a pink 9mm gun, and it belonged to Christy.
Christy Salters-Martin: I can’t get it away from him. … he’s too strong. … He gets the gun out of his pocket and he starts to beat me. Bam, bam. He’s beatin’ my head. … And bam, just like that, the switch flipped. I told him “You cannot kill me.” … right then, it changed. I have to live.
She says Jim stopped to tend to a cut on his hand, and then she started begging.
Christy Salters-Martin: You know, I tell him everything. “I love you, I’m sorry.” You know,” I’ve always loved you.” I — I’m pleading for my life.
Christy was interviewed by investigators, while in the emergency room fighting for her life.
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN [crying on video]: Don’t let me die, please don’t let me die … I just kept begging, don’t let me die.
Christy Salters-Martin: Finally, I realize, “he can’t let you live.” He gets the .9 millimeter. Stands at my feet. And I tell him, “You don’t have the balls to shoot me.” And he shot me. He missed my heart by three inches. … I passed out. And he thought I was dead.
An hour had passed since the stabbing started, when Christy says she regained consciousness, heard Jim taking a shower, and decided she was not down for the count.
Christy Salters-Martin: I picked up the gun because he had … cleaned the gun off, laid it down. … And picked up the car keys.
With a punctured lung, a bullet lodged inches from her heart and her leg split wide open, Christy says she got up and left.
Christy Salters-Martin: But I get to the car … It’s the wrong keys. … There’s no way in hell I’m goin’ back in that house.
She ran into the middle of this road, where Rick Cole pulled over.
Christy Martin flagged down a passing driver. When he rolled down his window, she tossed her bloody gun into his car, jumped into the backseat and begged him to take her to the emergency room.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
Rick Cole: And before I could even say hello … handin’ me something through the window. … It was heavy. And she said, “that’s my gun.” …andI’m like, “OK, wait a minute, what’s really going on here?” Because she’s the one with the bloody gun.
Christy Salters-Martin: I took the gun so I could show somebody this is what he shot me with.
Rick Cole rushed Christy to the emergency room, where she was stabilized and then airlifted to a nearby trauma center. Meanwhile, Jim had vanished.
Prosecutor Ryan Vescio says it took the police seven days to find Jim Martin. He had been hiding in a friend’s shed, across the street from the crime scene—and with the buck-knife used to stab Christy. This is what he told the police:
JIM MARTIN : I saved that knife on purpose cause I know Christy’s fingerprints got to be on that knife.
Jim claimed he had spent the week slipping in and out of a diabetic coma.
JIM MARTIN : I didn’t know how long I was there because I was just out.
Bill Hancock: He ran in the shed to protect himself. He was afraid she was going to continue to come after him.
Bill Hancock believes that Jim was the victim, not the aggressor.
Bill Hancock: I think Christy had come home … not in a great mood. She indicated she was suffering from a migraine, and Jim went in concerned about her health and got attacked.
JIM MARTIN : And she jumped up, grabbed the knife that was laying there. I grabbed the knife blade. We’re struggling with the knife blade.
Jim says it was Christy who brought out the gun.
JIM MARTIN : I guess she must have reached under her pillow. She come out with the pink gun.
David Begnaud: So, you think they’re fighting over the gun, right?
Bill Hancock: Yes.
David Begnaud: And the gun goes off.
Bill Hancock: Yes.
Jim Martin was charged with first-degree attempted murder. He was held without bail, until jury selection began on April 23, 2012.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
Jim was charged with attempted first-degree murder and pleaded not guilty. But to claim self-defense, he would have to admit that he stabbed and shot his wife, to save himself.
Deborah Barra: He comes into the courtroom all feeble like. … So, we thought, OK, here we go.
The Court Battle
A little more than six months after nearly bleeding out on her bedroom floor, Christy Martin got back in the boxing ring with Dakota Stone. Christy was hoping for her 50th win.
Christy Salters-Martin [watching the video of the fight] Down goes Dakota Stone for the only time in her career.
Less than six months after being left for dead, Christy Martin was back in the ring for a match against Dakota Stone on June 4, 2011, in Los Angeles.
Getty Images
Instead, the fight was called when Christy broke her hand in nine places. She had to be rushed to the emergency room again, and then she had a stroke.
Christy Salters-Martin: I can’t walk. I can’t really talk. And I can’t see.
Prosecutor Ryan Vescio was worried: would Christy be able to testify at the trial?
Ryan Vescio: She is the only live witness to what occurred. This entire case completely fell on her shoulders.
Determined to take that stand, Christy approached physical therapy like she was training for the match of her life.
Ryan Vescio: The fight is on. And it’s going to be the fight of public opinion … in a courtroom.
Jim Martin, who had been denied bail, was doing everything he could to discredit his wife.
Ryan Vescio: We intercepted a jail telephone call from Jim to one of his friends that they were trying to blackmail Christy even while Jim was incarcerated pending trial.
JIM MARTIN [phone call]: I’ve got some tapes. You know, I’ve got some awful, awful dirty, dirty tapes of her.
Ryan Vescio: They were trying to sell these sex tapes to media outlets.
The tapes never sold. But that didn’t stop Jim Martin, who told the media that he was the victim.
Deborah Barra: I thought, “thank you. I like it when defendants talk.”
Jim’s defense became pretty clear in April 2012 when the trial began, and his attorney Bill Hancock set Christy up as the aggressor.
BILL HANCOCK: James Martin was about two or three weeks away from his 68th birthday … Christy Martin was 43 years old, training for her upcoming boxing match that was gonna begin her comeback in boxing.
Ryan Vescio declared that the evidence would show Jim Martin had tried to kill his wife.
RYAN VESCIO: We believe, ladies and gentlemen, that this case at its essence, is about a man losing control.
The prosecution called Christy’s friend and hairdresser Deanna Gross, who testified that she saw Jim be controlling.
DEANNA GROSS:Um, He would look through her phone.
DEBORAH BARRA: So, you would see him actually walk over, pick up her phone and go through it?
DEANNA GROSS:Yes.
Sherry Lusk testified about that reportedly terrifying afternoon in Daytona, when Jim seemed to be lurking in the shadows.
SHERRY LUSK: We didn’t know what to do. It’s hard to explain how you’re shaking so bad when you think you’re about to get shot.
The jury saw photos of Christy’s injuries and heard from the doctors who saved her life.
RYAN VESCIO: Is it fair to classify the lung injury or the chest injury as a life-threatening or critical injury?
DR. LUBE: Yes, yes that’s correct.
Deputy Sheriff Todd Moore testified about Jim going missing for seven days, and said he was found wielding the knife used to stab Christy — forcing Deputy Moore to draw his gun and give a warning.
DEPUTY SHERIFF TODD MOORE: … and if he didn’t drop the knife that I was gonna shoot him.
But the main event was clearly when Christy got up on that stand.
Ryan Vescio: The size of that courtroom is about the size of a boxing ring.
“You could feel Christy’s intensity. … She did not stop from staring down Jim,” said prosecutor Ryan Vescio.
Court TV
Ryan Vescio: You could feel Christy’s intensity. … She did not stop from staring down Jim.
With Ryan Vescio questioning her, Christy calmly gave her account of the attack.
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: He stabbed me three times under, under my left arm.
She described Jim’s only significant wound — that cut on his hand.
At the hospital, doctors treated several small cuts and one large gash on Jim Martin’s right hand.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: When he stabbed me, I think it was one of the times of the three on my side, his hand slid up the knife and it cut his hand.
But, according to Bill Hancock, Jim got that cut while defending himself.
Bill Hancock: The only way you can get that cut on your hand is defending against someone who’s wielding the knife.
David Begnaud: But she was cut up … one side to the other.
Bill Hancock: It doesn’t mean that he wasn’t defending himself.
Hancock hammered home that argument in his questions to Christy.
BILL HANCOCK: Did you try to shoot Jim Martin?
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: No sir.
But Hancock pointed out that when police interviewed Christy, she asked if Jim was dead.
BILL HANCOCK: Do you recall responding to Detective Evans you were pretty sure you heard one gunshot and then asking if he was dead?
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: No sir.
This is audio from that police interview recorded at the emergency room, right after the attack when Christy was fighting to survive:
Surgeons decided not to remove a bullet lodged three inches from her heart until she was stronger.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
DETECTIVE : You OKto still talkfor a little bit?
DETECTIVE: Can you tell where he got the gun?
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: Is he dead?
DETECTIVE: Ah, we’re still trying to find him …
And then there was this:
BILL HANCOCK: Detective Evans says, “OK, what did you try to do?” And your answer was “I tried to shoot him, but I was too scared of him, pointed a gun at him and if I missed or something.”
The day after the attack, while on painkillers in a hospital bed, Christy told investigators this:
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN [police audio]: I got the gun out of his pocket and, the pink 9-millimeter. And, and like pointed it at him but then I was scared to, like, I was scare to shoot.
BILL HANCOCK: Did you tell her that?
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: I really don’t remember.
David Begnaud: Christy’s in the hospital. A police officer interviews her and she says to him, “is Jim dead?” Sounds to me like the woman wanted him dead.
Ryan Vescio: It’s not a good fact to have to deal with.
On day four, the state rested. And now it was Jim’s turn to tell his story. But the prosecution was worried. Would the jury believe him?
Jim Martin’s Defense
Defense attorney Bill Hancock insists that his client Jim Martin was a loving and devoted husband.
Bill Hancock: I think Jim was trying to work on the marriage. … I think Christie was trying to create a situation to where she could … proceed with whatever divorce paperwork she was starting.
Jim claims Christy is the one who was armed that day, with her gun and the knife.
Bill Hancock: I know she says he brought it into the room, um. He’s like, “no, she had it. “
And that bullet that just missed Christy’s heart? That was an accident, Hancock says, while wrestling over the gun.
Bill Hancock: The fact that Christy got shot with her own gun I think bolsters the fact that Jim was just trying to defend himself and they fought over the gun.
Jim Martin claims Christy is the one who was armed that day, with her gun and the knife.
Court TV
But remember, to tell that story and claim self-defense, Jim would have to admit that he stabbed and shot his wife, to save himself.
Christy Salters-Martin: Jim is such a control freak … and … believes in himself so much, that he would think that he could convince anybody of anything.
But first, Hancock tried to present a different view of the Martin household, from friend and neighbor Scott Selkirk.
BILL HANCOCK: And did you know your neighbors Christy and Jim Martin?
SCOTT SELKIRK: Yes, I did.
BILL HANCOCK: Was there ever times that you witnessed Jim Martin in a controlling manner over Christy Martin.
SCOTT SELKIRK: No.
Selkirk testified that just days before the attack, Jim came over to his house to ask if he could store his gun collection there. In Selkirk’s words, it was to “avoid a hostile situation.”
BILL HANCOCK: Had Mr. Martin brought his gun collection to your house before?
SCOTT SELKIRK: Yes.
BILL HANCOCK: How many times?
SCOTT SELKIRK: Probably, three.
Selkirk also said he saw Jim the day of the incident, and he seemed fine.
BILL HANCOCK: Was he angry or aggressive?
SCOTT SELKIRK: No.
Later that evening, he says Jim showed up at his door, bleeding.
BILL HANCOCK: And what did he tell you?
SCOTT SELKIRK: That he had been shot and stabbed.
BILL HANCOCK And then what did he do?
SCOTT SELKIRK: He turned and left.
Selkirk says he gave chase, but Jim disappeared.
Then, it was the state’s turn to question Selkirk.
PROSECUTOR DEBORAH BARRA: Sir, you’re actually really good friends with Jim, correct?
SCOTT SELKIRK: We’re good friends, yeah.
DEBORAH BARRA: OK, would you describe your relationship almost like brothers?
SCOTT SELKIRK: Good friends.
DEBORAH BARRA: OK.
Barra pointed out that when police arrived at the crime scene, Selkirk refused to share Jim’s cell phone number.
DEBORAH BARRA: Sir, isn’t it true that you said to Sergeant Callahan “Jim is my friend and I don’t want to get him in any trouble so I’m not going to say anything.”
SCOTT SELKIRK: I can’t recall that.
DEBORAH BARRA: Sir, do you remember being on the phone with somebody else while the police were in your residence and you indicated to the person on the phone, “I’ve got some cops out here and they’re acting like —- heads.” Do you remember …
SCOTT SELKIRK: Oh, I probably said that.
DEBORAH BARRA: You, you remember saying that?
SCOTT SELKIRK: Oh, I’m sure I said that.
Selkirk pushed back when Barra asked about a trail of Jim’s blood that led to Selkirk’s front door and beyond.
DEBORAH BARRA: Sir, isn’t it true that the blood went further into your house — Into your kitchen area?
SCOTT SELKIRK: No. No, I don’t know where you got that.
Barra got that from a police report, and photos of blood found in Selkirk’s kitchen.
JUDGE: Sir, you are free to go about your business.
SCOTT SELKIRK: Thank you, sir.
Jim Martin told police that Christy attacked him, and he ran in fear to the shed belonging to neighbor Scott Selkirk. There, he says he slipped into a coma until that very morning.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
Now the jury didn’t hear this, but it was Selkirk’s shed that Jim Martin admits he was in, when he went missing for seven days.
Hancock’s second witness was Chris Guerra, another friend who testified that he never saw Jim be aggressive. He also said he had Jim over for dinner the night before the incident, and he seemed calm.
BILL HANCOCK: Was there anything unusual about Jim that evening when he was at your home for dinner?
CHRIS GUERRA: No.
Guerra was on the stand for only four minutes, with no cross examination. Then, Hancock surprised everyone and rested his case after calling just two witnesses. Jim Martin would not be going toe-to-toe with his ex-wife.
Deborah Barra: Ryan and I looked at each other and we were just like, he didn’t get it. … you have a world champion boxer who is in much better physical shape. … So, we thought … “What is he gonna say?” And it was nothing.
Bill Hancock: As we got into the trial, I think Jim became … more fearful about testifying and concerned about how his words would be twisted.
Deborah Barra: I personally think it was just that Jim couldn’t bring himself to tell the world that he needed to protect himself from Christy Martin.
BILL HANCOCK: Members of the jury, it has been difficult I’m sure …
In his closing, Hancock reminded the jury that the pink gun belonged to Christy — and he insisted once again that she was the one with the knife.
BILL HANCOCK: Whose blood is on the blade? James Martin. Any contribution or any DNA from Christy Martin? No.
PROSECUTOR RYAN VESCIO: That is nothing more than asking you to speculate …
When police found Jim Martin, he had the buck knife used to stab Christy and this bloody T-shirt.
Office of the State Attorney, Ninth Judicial Circuit of Florida
Ryan Vescio reminded the jury that the knife was in Jim’s possession for seven days after the incident. And he insisted that the evidence showed, Christy never even had a chance to defend herself.
Ryan Vescio: There’s no evidence of a struggle. There’s no evidence that this was ah, ah an equal force fight.
David Begnaud: Did you think a guilty verdict was a given?
Ryan Vescio: Nothing’s ever a given in a courtroom.
The Jury’s Decision
After five hours of deliberating, the jury in the trial of Jim Martin had a decision.
Christy says she was worried.
Christy Salters-Martin: It was the first time ever I realized maybe they didn’t believe me.
COURT DEPUTY [reading verdict]: State of Florida vs. James V.Martin. Jury as to count one: We the jury find the defendant guilty of the lesser included offense of attempted second-degree murder.
Guilty of attempted murder, but not pre-meditated.
David Begnaud: You had prosecuted for first-degree attempted murder. They said…
Deborah Barra: Second degree … attempted murder.
David Begnaud: Did that feel like a loss?
Deborah Barra: No … I felt that was a, a good verdict. I knew that he would be facing substantial prison time. And I knew that would kind of vindicate Christy.
Christy says hearing the word “guilty” was a huge relief, but insists the verdict was only half right..
David Begnaud: Do you think Jim’s attack on you was premeditated?
Christy Salters-Martin: Absolutely. Without a doubt.
Bill Hancock says he accepts the jury’s decision, but he also disagrees.
David Begnaud: Do you think Jim Martin is innocent?
Bill Hancock: I believe my client.
Nine weeks later, at Jim Martin’s sentencing, Christy took the witness stand one last time.
She wanted the judge to know that she was still terrified.
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: Judge Thompson, Jim threatened my life for over 20 years …
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: He would also tell me that he knew people that could “make me disappear.”
Then, she turned and called out the man now convicted of trying to kill her.
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: Look at me, Jim.
Christy Salters-Martin: The entire time I testified I looked him straight in the eyes. And when he would look away from me, I would say, “Mother—— look at me.”
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: You shot me. With my own gun. Basically, point blank. And guess what mother——, I walked out.
David Begnaud: On the stand you said that?
Christy Salters-Martin: From the stand … One time the judge told me to be quiet and I just kept talkin’ cause what’s he going to do, put me in jail?
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN: Judge, I hope that you’ll see fit to sentence Jim to the maximum of life in prison.
As she left the stand, Christy had one more thing she wanted to say to Jim.
As she left the stand, Christy walked towards Jim with one last message.
Court TV
Christy Salters-Martin: I walked right directly at him and said, “Mother——, I hope you burn in hell.”
Christy Salters-Martin: To me, it was tellin’ him, “I don’t fear you anymore.”
But Christy didn’t get the last word.
BILL HANCOCK: Judge, at this time Mr. Martin would like to address the court.
Jim Martin finally took the stand, turned to the judge and once again, claimed he was the victim.
JIM MARTIN: Outside the ring I was scared of Christy, you know, because I never wanted to do anything to make her mad.
His fear of Christy, he said, also explained why he fled the crime scene.
JIM MARTIN: Christy was gone. I ran through the house looking for her and then I got to thinking, Christy’s got the gun.
Jim Martin addressed the court at his sentencing.
Court TV
Then, Jim Martin apologized — but not for attacking his wife.
JIM MARTIN: I’m very sorry for that day. And I apologize. I should have just turned, walked off and whatever happened, what happened. I got stabbed I should have just turned and walked away. I never even would have turned her into police ’cause that’s not me. Cause I loved her so much.
David Begnaud: Do you believe he loved you?
Christy Salters-Martin: No. He loved what I gave to him. … I mean, the man never had a job. … I was his personal ATM.
Ryan Vescio says to this day, he remains surprised that Jim never properly claimed self-defense.
David Begnaud: Because in your opinion, that would have been the most predictable defense?
Ryan Vescio: Oh, it would have been most likely a successful defense.
Vescio asked the judge to sentence Jim Martin to the maximum: life in prison.
JUDGE: Do you have any questions Mr. Martin?
JIM MARTIN: No sir.
But, like the jury, the judge pulled his punch and handed down the minimum mandatory sentence: 25 years.
Ryan Vescio: Jim Martin will serve every single day of those 25 years. …There is no parole in Florida.
Christy Salters-Martin: The chances are he’s probably not gonna live the 25 years. So — was it a life sentence? Probably. So, am I OK with it? Yes.
Christy was left to pick up the pieces. And while she tries to stay in shape, doctors have recommended no more competing or she may die.
Christy Martin, now a boxing promoter, advocates for victims of domestic abuse through her non-profit “Christy’s Champs.”
Getty Images
So, Christy followed in the footsteps of the legendary Don King and became a boxing promoter. This past July, in the middle of the pandemic, Christy held a 14-fight event in Daytona Beach.
Christy Salters-Martin: As a fighter, I didn’t settle. And I’m not gonna settle as a promoter.
Ryan Vescio: What’s remarkable about Christy today is getting to see how she’s living her second lease on life. And she’s able to be who she is, doing what she loves.
And loving who she wants to love. In November 2017, Christy married fellow boxer, and one-time opponent, Lisa Holewyne.
In November 2017, Christy married fellow boxer, and one-time opponent, Lisa Holewyne.
CBS News
Lisa Holewyne: She is — one of the most genuine human beings I’ve ever met. … there is — a sweetness to her that, no matter … all the awful things she’s been through, is still there.
Christy now goes by her maiden name of Salters, and advocates for victims of domestic abuse through her non-profit “Christy’s Champs,” and she donates a portion of her fight proceeds to the cause.
Deborah Barra: I think it’s a remarkable story because you have a world-famous champion boxer and she could still be in a domestic violence relationship, because that isn’t about physical strength. It’s about mental abuse. … but you can always survive it.
Christy says she can now look back and see that she did get that fiftieth win—just not in the boxing ring.
Christy Salters-Martin: Finally, I have been able to come with– to terms with I got the 50th win when I got up off the floor November 23rd, 2010 and got outta my house. That was my 50th win.
In 2025, Christy added a Hollywood film to her credits, with one of the hottest stars on the red carpet playing the leading role.
SYDNEY SWEENEY (at the Toronto International Film Festival): Christie, you are absolutely incredible and I’m so honored … you’re so inspirational … it was incredible being able to embody such a powerful woman.
CHRISTY SALTERS-MARTIN (selfie video): And I thank all of the boxing fans for their support throughout the years and the people that are out there, the domestic violence survivors, their families. It’s so important that this movie exposes everything. Domestic violence, sexuality, being the ultimate underdog. Because that’s who I am. And I made it.
On Nov. 26, 2024, Jim Martin died in custody. He was 80 years old.
Produced by Judy Rybak. Danielle Arman is the associate producer. T. Sean Herbert is the location producer. Jud Johnston and George Baluzy are the editors. Peter Schweitzer is the senior producer. Nancy Kramer is the executive story editor. Judy Tygard is the executive producer.
If you want to see what a “living constitution” looks like, go to Europe. On Tuesday, in Vainik v. Estonia, the European Court of Human Rights ruled that four longtime prisoners in Estonia were due restitution from the state for “weight gain, sleeping problems, depression, and anxiety” caused by not being allowed to smoke in prison.
The decision was grounded on Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights. The text of Article 8 doesn’t mention any right to enjoy a cigarette whenever one pleases. Rather, it protects a broad “right to private life,” which the court accused Estonia of violating in the Vainik case. “The Court,” the judges wrote, “was sensitive to the context of the already limited personal autonomy of prisoners, and that the freedom for them to decide for themselves—such as whether to smoke—was all the more precious.” An odd ruling, but perhaps Europe loves its cigarettes that much?
A search continued on Thursday for one of two convicted criminals who were mistakenly released from prison the previous day in Britain — the second and third such incidents in two weeks and part of a growing trend of mistaken releases that have put the government under fire.
London’s Metropolitan Police said it was informed by England’s prison service on Tuesday afternoon that a 24-year-old was “released in error” from Wandsworth prison, in southwest London, on Oct. 29.
The suspect has been identified as Algerian national Brahim Kaddour Cherif, who remained at large on Thursday. Police said he is a registered sex offender who was convicted of indecent exposure last year, sentenced to an 18-month community order and put on the sex offenders’ register for five years.
The BBC reported that Cherif last appeared in court in September, charged with failing to comply with requirements for convicted sex offenders.
“Cherif has had a six-day head start but we are working urgently to close the gap and establish his whereabouts,” Paul Trevers, who is overseeing the police investigation, said in a statement.
The second man mistakenly released, 35-year-old William Smith, was let go from the same prison as Cherif on Monday, the Surrey Police said, but the force issued an update on Thursday to say he had turned himself back in at Wandsworth Prison in South London.
He was released the same day he appeared at a hearing where he received a 45-month sentence for multiple fraud offenses.
In a statement shared Thursday on social media, the Surrey Police thanked members of the public for sharing its appeal for information on Smith, and said it was cancelling its request for help to find him.
“I am absolutely outraged and appalled by the mistaken release of a foreign criminal wanted by the police. The Metropolitan police is leading an urgent manhunt, and my officials have been working through the night to take him back to prison,” David Lammy, U.K. deputy prime minister and justice secretary, said in a statement after reports emerged of the first mistaken release, according to the BBC.
“Victims deserve better and the public deserve answers. That is why I have already brought in the strongest checks ever to clamp down on such failures and ordered an independent investigation, led by Dame Lynne Owens to uncover what went wrong and address the rise in accidental releases which has persisted for too long,” Lammy said.
A spokesperson for U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer called that release “utterly unacceptable” and said the issue of accidental prisoner releases “needs to be dealt with, and the system needs to be reformed and the appropriate checks need to be in place to stop this type of thing from ever happening,” according to The Guardian.
Just last week, the accidental release of Hadush Kebatu, an Ethiopian man jailed for sexually assaulting a 14-year-old girl, triggered a two-day manhunt and his eventual deportation. British authorities agreed to give him the equivalent of about $600 to get on a plane, rather than filing a new legal challenge to his deportation.
The number of prisoners released from U.K. prisons by mistake has more than doubled in the last year, according to government data analyzed by Britain’s Telegraph newspaper.
About 262 prisoners were mistakenly released from March 2024 to March 2025, compared to 115 during the same period the previous year, the Telegraph reported.
An official review of the issue has begun, but Ian Acheson, a former prison governor and adviser to U.K. government ministers, cited the overcrowding of Britain’s prisons as a reason for the rise in accidental releases.
Overcrowding has brought more pressure on the prison managers to get offenders out as quickly as possible, which has led to more movement of prisoners within the prison system, Acheson told the Telegraph newspaper.
“It is quite possible that one of the reasons for the increase in these mistakes has been the push and imperative to get people out,” Acheson told the Telegraph.
Alexa Bartell (Provided by Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department)
A Jefferson County judge refused to reduce the prison sentence for one of the men convicted in the killing of 20-year-old Alexa Bartell during a spree of rock-throwing attacks more than two years ago.
Nicholas “Mitch” Karol-Chik, 21, was sentenced in May to 45 years in prison for Bartell’s death. She was killed in April 2023 when Karol-Chik and two other teenagers threw a 9.3-pound rock through her windshield as she drove on Indiana Street near the Rocky Flats National Wildlife Refuge. The rock struck Bartell in the head.
In September, Karol-Chik sought to knock 10 years off his sentence through a post-sentencing review, citing his good behavior in prison. He noted that he’d applied for a 10-year prison education program through which he expects to receive a bachelor’s degree in Christian studies and then work in chaplains’ offices across the prison system.
First Judicial District Court Judge Christopher Zenisek, who presided over Karol-Chik’s case and imposed the original 45-year prison sentence, opted against holding a hearing to listen to arguments about sentence reduction and instead denied Karol-Chik’s request in a brief Oct. 8 order.
“The court, in its discretion, determines that the sentence is appropriate as originally imposed due to the severity of the offense and community safety concerns,” Zenisek wrote.
Karol-Chik was convicted of second-degree murder and attempted first-degree murder in Bartell’s killing. He faced between 35 and 72 years in prison under the terms of his plea agreement.
The two other participants in the attack are also serving decades-long prison sentences.
All three men were 18 at the time of the rock-throwing spree. They rode together in a truck and egged each other on as they threw rocks first at parked cars and then at passing cars as the night went on. The driver of the truck sped up before the attacks, and Koenig whooped with excitement after Bartell was killed and her car drifted off the road, testimony at trial revealed.
Prosecutors argued during Koenig’s jury trial that he threw the rock that killed Bartell; his defense attorneys argued that Kwak threw it. Both sides acknowledged that all three teenagers could be convicted in Bartell’s killing regardless of who threw the rock.
Two correctional officers at California State Prison, Sacramento are hospitalized and an attempted murder investigation has been launched following an alleged attack on the officers Saturday night.
According to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, the correctional officers were escorting an inmate from a cell around 7 p.m. when they were attacked by an improvised weapon. The inmate was being escorted as prison staff were set to conduct a cell search.
Prison staff used physical force and chemical agents to stop the attack. Following the incident, officials said an improvised weapon was found at the scene.
The guards were taken to the prison’s triage and treatment area before taken to an outside medical facility. CDCR officials said both officers are in “fair” condition as of Sunday.
The inmate, identified as 48-year-old Jason Brannigan, was taken into restricted housing pending investigation, officials said.
According to correctional records, Brannigan is from Sacramento County and has been imprisoned since at least March 2011. Brannigan is serving a 17-year, 8-month sentence after being convicted of multiple offenses, including corporal injury to a spouse and criminal threats.
While in prison, officials said Brannigan was sentenced in 2022 to four years for possession / manufacture of a deadly weapon.
Officials said the case will be referred to the Sacramento County District Attorney’s Office for prosecution.
As of Sunday afternoon, the prison located in Folsom is on “modified programming” to complete a 24-hour threat assessment, officials said. Peer support and other support services are being offered to prison employees.
According to CDCR, the prison houses more than 2,200 medium-, maximum- and high-security inmates.
