The Alabama Solution

Mic check, one, two, three.

One, two, three. Mic check, one, two, three.

Well, today, they, um, they're here doing a revival...

and everybody's just joyful.

We're gonna have fun and food and everything.

Everything's gonna be a good day at Easterling Prison.

It's a day that you really don't get in prison...

...because there's not

a lot of hope inside an institution.

And it has to be brought in.

I want to pray for Alabama.

- I want to pray for our system. - Yeah.

Amen.

- Yes, sir. - Amen.

And we walked through them hoods, man.

And we made a difference.

- I am my brother's keeper. - I am my brother's keeper.

- I am my brother's keeper. - I am my brother's keeper.

Why do you say that?

Because they don't show you the meat that we get.

It's not nothing like this.

[volunteer speaking indistinctly]

They should let y'all go inside the dorms.

You think it's hot out here?

Right now just imagine sleeping in a tin building

with 120-some other people.

Y'all see him?

What are we finished with?

Why?

Raoul?

- Hey. - Hey, how are you?

I'm good. How are you?

I'm okay.

Do you mind if I record our conversation?

Good.

Ah.

Thanks for talking with us.

And the atrocities and the corruption.

When you hear "Department of Corrections,"

you think about an institution where people

are going to classes,

people are getting treatment,

people are doing things towards correction.

But that's nothing close

to what's going on behind the walls of the ADOC.

We're at a humanitarian crisis level.

Okay.

- Melvin? - Can you hear me?

- Yeah. -

Hold on a minute.

- Police in here. - Oh. Okay.

Would a regular phone call be better?

No, because it does not allow us to just be ourselves.

You know, when we present our stories,

we want to present our whole self, not just our voice.

We're in these walled-off secret societies.

These are state institutions.

But it's one of the only state institutions

that the public or the media has no access to.

How can a journalist go into a war zone,

but can't go into a prison in the United States of America?

Like, I can witness a murder--

we could be all sitting here and witness a murder--

and the media can't even come on the state property.

...and if we don't have these cell phones,

we don't have a way to capture these incidents.

The public is already conditioned

not to believe a person who is incarcerated.

I'm in prison. I'm supposed to lie.

I'm supposed to make up excuses. I'm supposed to exaggerate.

That's why the administration hate the recording.

Contraband continues to be a deadly problem

that plagues Alabama's prisons.

We're talking about cell phones.

...instead of the incident that was recorded with the phone.

It is a fight every day.

And we continue to struggle with it.

But there's a lot of work still to be done to defeat cell phones

inside the prison system.

The reality is, Alabama doesn't have an incarceration problem.

We have a criminal and a crime problem.

It's a continuous cycle of violence,

a lack of accountability.

And without us being able to inform society

about what's happening,

these incidents are not even reported.

We're looking for Steven Davis.

We think he's in the ICU.

Go up to the ninth floor.

If you could...

If you could go out to the wait room,

or I can help you by calling,

but I'd prefer you not stand in front of the room.

- Okay, sure. - Thanks.

- -

[man on TV speaking indistinctly]

I know.

We're here for you.

- - Don't...

He didn't deserve this.

You've got to take care of yourself.

You're gonna wind up in the hospital.

He's telling me, "Mama, I'm gonna get out of here.

I'm going to get out. I'm going to get out."

Hey, Stevie.

Well, when I got the phone call,

I didn't know what really happened.

And the first thing that went through my mind is,

Steven done got stabbed, he done got beat up.

That's the only two things it really can be.

I mean, you're in jail. You're in prison.

You walk back in the ICU,

and they had him in the very, very back of the ICU,

in a different part that had a room

so the security guards could, you know, could monitor

who come in, come out.

That one guard asked me, "Do you know what happened?"

I said no. I said, "Do you know anything?"

"Nope." He knew something.

I could tell, he was a liar. He knew something.

People could come in,

but only two at a time, and we were not

to bring any phones or anything like that.

Oh yeah. When we seen him,

we knew what they were hiding.

Him.

They didn't want a picture of him to be out there.

Because I didn't know if we'd get the body or not.

You're talking about me taking a photo in ICU

when you wasn't supposed to have your phones in there?

But I took it in there when the cops were out back sleeping?

- - Mm-hmm.

Because I didn't know if we'd get the body back.

I didn't know how the rules and stuff was, you know, with...

'Cause Steven was the state's responsibility. Incarcerated.

I didn't know if we'd get the body and have a proper funeral.

So I wanted to take a photo for evidence.

- -

Every last breath, I'll never get that picture

out of my face of my son.

As many pictures as I hang...