My story starts off in July of 1989 in my hometown jail waiting to be sent back to prison on a parole violation for drinking. My 2 cousins Brian and Rex Garrett are also waiting to be sent back to prison. So we make the bad choice to escape....
We talk the night jailer into opening the cell block door so we could get the mop bucket to mop up the flooding shower. When he opens the door all 3 of us walk out. He did not try to stop us and complied when we asked for all the keys, including his car keys. We locked him in one of the empty cells and he told me not to damage his old car but to just park it somewhere and leave it. Then asked if we needed gas money, I told him we have money for gas and promised I would not damage his car. We went down the steps to the 1st floor, at the bottom of the steps was a young female jailer washing dishes in the sink she thinks at first that we were coming from the main courthouse but when she sees one of my cousins she realizes it is a jail break and becomes very scared. I tell her we are not going to hurt her but we need her to get in one of the two female cells that is just around the corner, the poor thing was scared to death and because the light was off in that cell she kept asking us to turn on the light which I do, and we lock her in one of those cells. There was no violence involved in any part of our escape.
As I'm about to back the car out onto the street we see a cop car coming toward us so I slowly pull back in the driveway and let him pass by. He pulls up to the red light, then I slowly back out on the street again and head in the other direction. Its a good thing I was driving, I'm sure my cousins would have panicked. Even my heart was beating like I had just ran a mile. We park the car under a tree in a big apple orchard 20 mile's away with a full tank of gas and not a scratch on it. But it did take them over a week to find it. We split up. They have girlfriends they want to see and I have 150 pot plant's next to the river I need to look after.
At first there is a huge man hunt for us. My cousins turn themselves in 3 day's later. Said they were hungry. From the start my plan was to hide out on the river and look after my plants until harvest time in September and sell them and after getting the money turn myself in and do my time. And I do hide out on the river until harvest time and have it all bagged up ready to sell. Someone I thought was my friend was supposed to help me find a buyer for my pot. One early morning before the sale was set I'm awakened by this Bluejay raising hell and had it not been for that bird's alarming calls the cop's would have captured me asleep at my campsite and I would never have found out it was my so called friend who sent the cop's to my campsite and also stole my $100,000 worth of pot.
Now the man hunt for me is hot again. So my plan to turn myself in is put on hold, I borrow money from family and friends and buy a bus ticket to Florida where friends give me a nice place to live. I have a fake ID, a good job. All is going well until I get drunk, black out and walk into some guy's home and beat him up while he is asleep in bed. I must have thought he was in my bed. I plead guilty to 17 years, was sent to prison. After about a year they come get me and charge me with the rape of a 49 year old women at a 7-11 store close to where I was living. That took place 2 week's before I beat the guy up. They want me to plead guilty to another 17 year sentence to run with the first 17, which means only doing 17 for both charges. But I refuse to plead to a crime I did not do and had proof I was in another city when the rape took place, plus the woman who was raped told the police and a nurse it was a Black man who raped her, that he had a New York accent, was 5 foot 7, weighed 160. I'm white 6 foot 1 weighed 210 at the time and my accent could never be mistaken for a New York accent. They claimed to have gotten a DNA match of 1 in 26000 which is a very low number for a DNA match. The state's DNA expert said at my trail I had a rare blood type and it would be unfair to use this test to send me to prison, that there were mistakes made and the test had to be retested several times. There was a missing item from the evidence bag collected at the crime scene and evidence that a friend of the man I beat up tampered with the jury. All this and they still find me guilty. They just wanted someone to pay and who better than a escaped convict from Kentucky. The way the legal system is set up in this country is so unfair, especially to the poor who can't afford a competent lawyer, the mentally ill, the uneducated.
The most intelligent, competent lawyers get put to work as prosecutors and the ones who barely passed the bar as public defenders. Its like a feather weight boxer going up against a boxer who has a heavyweight title belt. It's just not a fair fight. If your life was at risk would you want your life put on the line with the feather weight boxer/Public Defender fighting for you against the heavy weight boxer with the title belt? That's how the legal system is set up in this country and why the poor get sent to prison and the wealthy go free. I say switch it around make the smart lawyers public defenders and the feather-weight prosecutors.
We talk the night jailer into opening the cell block door so we could get the mop bucket to mop up the flooding shower. When he opens the door all 3 of us walk out. He did not try to stop us and complied when we asked for all the keys, including his car keys. We locked him in one of the empty cells and he told me not to damage his old car but to just park it somewhere and leave it. Then asked if we needed gas money, I told him we have money for gas and promised I would not damage his car. We went down the steps to the 1st floor, at the bottom of the steps was a young female jailer washing dishes in the sink she thinks at first that we were coming from the main courthouse but when she sees one of my cousins she realizes it is a jail break and becomes very scared. I tell her we are not going to hurt her but we need her to get in one of the two female cells that is just around the corner, the poor thing was scared to death and because the light was off in that cell she kept asking us to turn on the light which I do, and we lock her in one of those cells. There was no violence involved in any part of our escape.
As I'm about to back the car out onto the street we see a cop car coming toward us so I slowly pull back in the driveway and let him pass by. He pulls up to the red light, then I slowly back out on the street again and head in the other direction. Its a good thing I was driving, I'm sure my cousins would have panicked. Even my heart was beating like I had just ran a mile. We park the car under a tree in a big apple orchard 20 mile's away with a full tank of gas and not a scratch on it. But it did take them over a week to find it. We split up. They have girlfriends they want to see and I have 150 pot plant's next to the river I need to look after.
At first there is a huge man hunt for us. My cousins turn themselves in 3 day's later. Said they were hungry. From the start my plan was to hide out on the river and look after my plants until harvest time in September and sell them and after getting the money turn myself in and do my time. And I do hide out on the river until harvest time and have it all bagged up ready to sell. Someone I thought was my friend was supposed to help me find a buyer for my pot. One early morning before the sale was set I'm awakened by this Bluejay raising hell and had it not been for that bird's alarming calls the cop's would have captured me asleep at my campsite and I would never have found out it was my so called friend who sent the cop's to my campsite and also stole my $100,000 worth of pot.
Now the man hunt for me is hot again. So my plan to turn myself in is put on hold, I borrow money from family and friends and buy a bus ticket to Florida where friends give me a nice place to live. I have a fake ID, a good job. All is going well until I get drunk, black out and walk into some guy's home and beat him up while he is asleep in bed. I must have thought he was in my bed. I plead guilty to 17 years, was sent to prison. After about a year they come get me and charge me with the rape of a 49 year old women at a 7-11 store close to where I was living. That took place 2 week's before I beat the guy up. They want me to plead guilty to another 17 year sentence to run with the first 17, which means only doing 17 for both charges. But I refuse to plead to a crime I did not do and had proof I was in another city when the rape took place, plus the woman who was raped told the police and a nurse it was a Black man who raped her, that he had a New York accent, was 5 foot 7, weighed 160. I'm white 6 foot 1 weighed 210 at the time and my accent could never be mistaken for a New York accent. They claimed to have gotten a DNA match of 1 in 26000 which is a very low number for a DNA match. The state's DNA expert said at my trail I had a rare blood type and it would be unfair to use this test to send me to prison, that there were mistakes made and the test had to be retested several times. There was a missing item from the evidence bag collected at the crime scene and evidence that a friend of the man I beat up tampered with the jury. All this and they still find me guilty. They just wanted someone to pay and who better than a escaped convict from Kentucky. The way the legal system is set up in this country is so unfair, especially to the poor who can't afford a competent lawyer, the mentally ill, the uneducated.
The most intelligent, competent lawyers get put to work as prosecutors and the ones who barely passed the bar as public defenders. Its like a feather weight boxer going up against a boxer who has a heavyweight title belt. It's just not a fair fight. If your life was at risk would you want your life put on the line with the feather weight boxer/Public Defender fighting for you against the heavy weight boxer with the title belt? That's how the legal system is set up in this country and why the poor get sent to prison and the wealthy go free. I say switch it around make the smart lawyers public defenders and the feather-weight prosecutors.
So because I would not agree to take the 17 year plea deal, the judge gave me the max on the charges which was life without parole and that means spending the rest of my life in prison. I was positive I would get this mess straightened out on appeal and passed on 2 occasions when I could have escaped again and now looking back I deeply regret not taking those chances for freedom.
So I spend the next 10 years waiting on my appeals. In 1996 3 new cases on a change in the law on how DNA is used in court came out, I added those cases to my federal appeal. After not hearing anything for over one year I wrote the federal judge asking the status of my case and he writes back and tells me my case was denied over 1 year ago and because I didn't file notice of appeal my case was closed. And I find out because I didn't file my notice of appeal on time that I'm procedurally barred from going to the next step in my appeals process, which means I'm stuck in prison for the rest of my life and out of appeals. Its my opinion the federal judge saw I was going to win my appeal and intentionally withheld my notice that he had denied my appeals, knowing I would be barred from going to the next step in my appeals process if I didn't send in my notice of appeal on time. Even in prison it take's money to have a good inmate law clerk do your legal work / appeals. So to pay for it I learned how to smuggle pot inside what ever prison they sent me to and I got to be very good at it. When all my appeals were denied I was making $4000 every 2 weeks and had a nice bank account on the street and a good deal of cash hidden inside the prison.
After getting the bad news of my appeals I was very depressed and went on a drinking spree for about 2 week's and took lot's of pills and smoked lots of pot and let my guard down. So my room mate and one of his friends broke the lock off my locker while I was on the yard and took a pack of tobacco that was sealed up with $470 cash inside it. I put out a $50 reward and got a tip but was not sure it was good.
A few days go by and I'm coming back from picking up a half pound of pot from the guy who brings it inside the prison for me and the inmate who helped my roommate break into my locker and a muscle-bound inmate called Pig are waiting in a blind spot for me. They both have prison knives and demand I give them the half pound of pot I had under my shirt. The big one called Pig steps close to me and I land a good solid blow to his chin and he goes down, I pick up his knife just as the other one tried to stab me. His swing and miss have him off balance and I stab him just under the arm pit, he drops his knife and I pick it up and he takes off running but I got him real good. It was a type of prison icepick which only leaves a small hole and makes you bleed on the inside. My blow under the arm pit went all the way through one lung and into his heart he bleeds out a short while later after running into the officers station in one of the dorms. His friend Pig had gotten up by now but seeing me with both their knives he didn't want any more trouble. I slowly walk away and stashed both knives and go back to my dorm and pass off the half pound of pot to a friend and tell him to sell it later on after things cool down. I tell him to keep half and to send my half to my Dad's address.
A few months after I was taken to the Lake Co. jail to await trial for 1st degree murder and my Dad told me he got a check for $2000 from my friend. About 30 inmates from the prison testified against me at my trial. And only 3 inmates actually saw me stab that guy but none of those 3 testified. There were so many stories told about these events. All those who told those lies in court were given extra gain time, transfers to whatever prison they wanted to go to or any privileged job they wanted. And when it was all over I was sent to Death Row in July of 2000.
Over the years I have aged, my hair is mostly white now and i have had several health problems and close calls with death. also 2 sincere suicide attempts that were very close. My appendix ruptured and the medical staff ignored my call for help and gangrene set in, I got lucky that the top medical director from Tallahassee happened to be here at the prison for a visit and examined me and had me on the way to a outside hospital where I spent 4 hours in emergency surgery.
A few years after that I started having chest pains and was ignored by medical staff again for several months. I finally got checked out by nurse Tucker who saw I was not faking it like all the other nurses said. She had me sent by ambulance to a outside hospital where they found out I have congestive heart failure. I was put on medications for that and I'm still alive. Now I'm having problems with my colon and being ignored by medical staff again. So I may not live much longer with the type of medical care you get here on Death Row.
Getting to be a old man on Death Row and having all these medical problems, being far from my Kentucky home with no friends or family in Florida, living a lonely life day after day in this small cell for so many years is taking it's toll on me. But I keep living one day at a time. I exercise each morning after breakfast and I'm still in pretty good shape, 6 foot one, 235 pounds I still have a 18 inch bicep. I spend a lot of my time watching TV and listening to music on my tablet.
What I need most is someone who lives close enough to come visit me a few hours each weekend and get me out of this small cell for a few hours. I miss having a real friend to talk with and find out what's happening out in the real world. A few years back there was a court ruling and I was granted a new sentencing trial and could possibly get my death sentence lowered to life. But I think i would prefer to stay on death Row. I'm getting too old for that war zone environment that's waiting in open population. So I plan to ask the judge to leave me here on Death Row.
When I told you i went on a drinking spree after my appeals got shot down I should have explained what I was drinking. In prison it is possible at times to get real street liquor but mostly we drink a homemade brew that's called Buck. It can be made from a wide range of ingredients but the best is made from half orange juice and half water a tea spoon of baker's yeast and 1 and a half pound of white sugar for each gallon. And 4 days later it's ready to drink. And it packs a hell of a kick. If you drink 3 sixteen ounce cups you will be really drunk. The same as if you had drank a pint of street liquor. When I first came to the Florida prison system making buck was a good way to make money. Each sixteen ounce cup sold for $2 which only cost about 50 cents to make. So if you make 5 to 10 gallon at a time that's a nice turn over.
During my many years in prison I have tried to better myself. I went to vocational school for wielding, vocational school for food service to be a cook, Got my GED, was trained by a registered dietitian to be a diet cook. Later I worked as the regular cook for over 900 inmates, I worked in the staff dining room, I worked on the loading dock unloading all the delivery trucks, I have worked as a medical orderly in the prison hospital, in the maintanance department and learned all sorts of skills on building and repair of all the many different buildings in prisons. I once worked in the place that made the license plates. But most of all I learned how to survive in prison. I became a master at being able to find ways to smuggle pot into any prison and get paid $.
In the 10 years before ending up on Death Row I was transferred to over 10 different prisons and met many new people and made many friends and also came across some real scum bags. After being on Death Row for all these years and getting used to living in a cell for one I don't think I could deal with having a roommate in such a small space. And especially if they were like some of the ones I had back then. I'm hoping I can talk the judge into leaving me here on Death Row by pointing out my congestive heart failure and that I only have a few years left before it kills me.
So I spend the next 10 years waiting on my appeals. In 1996 3 new cases on a change in the law on how DNA is used in court came out, I added those cases to my federal appeal. After not hearing anything for over one year I wrote the federal judge asking the status of my case and he writes back and tells me my case was denied over 1 year ago and because I didn't file notice of appeal my case was closed. And I find out because I didn't file my notice of appeal on time that I'm procedurally barred from going to the next step in my appeals process, which means I'm stuck in prison for the rest of my life and out of appeals. Its my opinion the federal judge saw I was going to win my appeal and intentionally withheld my notice that he had denied my appeals, knowing I would be barred from going to the next step in my appeals process if I didn't send in my notice of appeal on time. Even in prison it take's money to have a good inmate law clerk do your legal work / appeals. So to pay for it I learned how to smuggle pot inside what ever prison they sent me to and I got to be very good at it. When all my appeals were denied I was making $4000 every 2 weeks and had a nice bank account on the street and a good deal of cash hidden inside the prison.
After getting the bad news of my appeals I was very depressed and went on a drinking spree for about 2 week's and took lot's of pills and smoked lots of pot and let my guard down. So my room mate and one of his friends broke the lock off my locker while I was on the yard and took a pack of tobacco that was sealed up with $470 cash inside it. I put out a $50 reward and got a tip but was not sure it was good.
A few days go by and I'm coming back from picking up a half pound of pot from the guy who brings it inside the prison for me and the inmate who helped my roommate break into my locker and a muscle-bound inmate called Pig are waiting in a blind spot for me. They both have prison knives and demand I give them the half pound of pot I had under my shirt. The big one called Pig steps close to me and I land a good solid blow to his chin and he goes down, I pick up his knife just as the other one tried to stab me. His swing and miss have him off balance and I stab him just under the arm pit, he drops his knife and I pick it up and he takes off running but I got him real good. It was a type of prison icepick which only leaves a small hole and makes you bleed on the inside. My blow under the arm pit went all the way through one lung and into his heart he bleeds out a short while later after running into the officers station in one of the dorms. His friend Pig had gotten up by now but seeing me with both their knives he didn't want any more trouble. I slowly walk away and stashed both knives and go back to my dorm and pass off the half pound of pot to a friend and tell him to sell it later on after things cool down. I tell him to keep half and to send my half to my Dad's address.
A few months after I was taken to the Lake Co. jail to await trial for 1st degree murder and my Dad told me he got a check for $2000 from my friend. About 30 inmates from the prison testified against me at my trial. And only 3 inmates actually saw me stab that guy but none of those 3 testified. There were so many stories told about these events. All those who told those lies in court were given extra gain time, transfers to whatever prison they wanted to go to or any privileged job they wanted. And when it was all over I was sent to Death Row in July of 2000.
Over the years I have aged, my hair is mostly white now and i have had several health problems and close calls with death. also 2 sincere suicide attempts that were very close. My appendix ruptured and the medical staff ignored my call for help and gangrene set in, I got lucky that the top medical director from Tallahassee happened to be here at the prison for a visit and examined me and had me on the way to a outside hospital where I spent 4 hours in emergency surgery.
A few years after that I started having chest pains and was ignored by medical staff again for several months. I finally got checked out by nurse Tucker who saw I was not faking it like all the other nurses said. She had me sent by ambulance to a outside hospital where they found out I have congestive heart failure. I was put on medications for that and I'm still alive. Now I'm having problems with my colon and being ignored by medical staff again. So I may not live much longer with the type of medical care you get here on Death Row.
Getting to be a old man on Death Row and having all these medical problems, being far from my Kentucky home with no friends or family in Florida, living a lonely life day after day in this small cell for so many years is taking it's toll on me. But I keep living one day at a time. I exercise each morning after breakfast and I'm still in pretty good shape, 6 foot one, 235 pounds I still have a 18 inch bicep. I spend a lot of my time watching TV and listening to music on my tablet.
What I need most is someone who lives close enough to come visit me a few hours each weekend and get me out of this small cell for a few hours. I miss having a real friend to talk with and find out what's happening out in the real world. A few years back there was a court ruling and I was granted a new sentencing trial and could possibly get my death sentence lowered to life. But I think i would prefer to stay on death Row. I'm getting too old for that war zone environment that's waiting in open population. So I plan to ask the judge to leave me here on Death Row.
When I told you i went on a drinking spree after my appeals got shot down I should have explained what I was drinking. In prison it is possible at times to get real street liquor but mostly we drink a homemade brew that's called Buck. It can be made from a wide range of ingredients but the best is made from half orange juice and half water a tea spoon of baker's yeast and 1 and a half pound of white sugar for each gallon. And 4 days later it's ready to drink. And it packs a hell of a kick. If you drink 3 sixteen ounce cups you will be really drunk. The same as if you had drank a pint of street liquor. When I first came to the Florida prison system making buck was a good way to make money. Each sixteen ounce cup sold for $2 which only cost about 50 cents to make. So if you make 5 to 10 gallon at a time that's a nice turn over.
During my many years in prison I have tried to better myself. I went to vocational school for wielding, vocational school for food service to be a cook, Got my GED, was trained by a registered dietitian to be a diet cook. Later I worked as the regular cook for over 900 inmates, I worked in the staff dining room, I worked on the loading dock unloading all the delivery trucks, I have worked as a medical orderly in the prison hospital, in the maintanance department and learned all sorts of skills on building and repair of all the many different buildings in prisons. I once worked in the place that made the license plates. But most of all I learned how to survive in prison. I became a master at being able to find ways to smuggle pot into any prison and get paid $.
In the 10 years before ending up on Death Row I was transferred to over 10 different prisons and met many new people and made many friends and also came across some real scum bags. After being on Death Row for all these years and getting used to living in a cell for one I don't think I could deal with having a roommate in such a small space. And especially if they were like some of the ones I had back then. I'm hoping I can talk the judge into leaving me here on Death Row by pointing out my congestive heart failure and that I only have a few years left before it kills me.
Allen Cox, 1964
Contact Allen Cox here
Contact Allen Cox here