Inmates' personal ads doing time on Internet; Web site s draw pen pals, anger victims' families
Chicago Tribune; Chicago, Ill.; Jul 28, 2002; Lynette Kalsnes, Tribune staff reporter; (Copyright 2002 by the Chicago Tribune) In his Internet personal ad, Luther Casteel lounges in a well- cut suit and stares out seductively while expressing a love for slow dancing, jazz and hiking with his dogs. He is a spiritual person, he says, who likes fine cars, clothing and the Chicago nightlife. And incidentally, he was convicted of murder and makes his home on Death Row. "The state says I'm a `Natural Born Killer,' but I am a very compassionate man and a born-again Christian!" his ad says. Casteel, 45, convicted of killing two people and wounding 16 others in a shooting at an Elgin pub in April 2001, is one of thousands of convicts, from petty criminals to some of the region's notorious killers, who have placed ads seeking correspondents, legal help and long-term relationships on a quickly growing list of prison pen pal Web sites. The quest for prison pen pals is not new--for years, prisoners have sought them through newspaper and magazine ads. But "the Internet seems to have replaced that," said Gary Phelps, chief of staff for the Arizona Department of Corrections. "It's quicker, cheaper, you get a much broader market.... It's harder to control." The trend has infuriated victims' rights organizations and victims' families, who are concerned the sites could lead to scams or influence impressionable young people to commit similar crimes. Victims' relatives also are incensed at the idea that murderers and rapists, whose punishment is supposed to include their isolation from society, are entitled to any kind of pleasant interaction with the outside world. Robert Weides, the father of the bartender Casteel killed, sees the ads as an "absolute outrage." To imagine this man has any rights is just unconscionable," he said. "When you did what he did, you lost your right to be a human being." But Illinois Department of Corrections spokesman Brian Fairchild said such sites are legal and the prisons can do little beyond monitoring mail and calls, because prisoners have a right to correspondence. Prison reform groups argue the sites can shine light on prison abuses while socializing inmates, making them feel more connected to the outside world and less likely to re-offend. Internet pen-pal sites are growing rapidly in number and membership. Cyberspace Inmates lists 1,625 inmates and gets 5,000 to 10,000 hits a week, while PrisonPennPals.com has 1,006 inmates and averages 2,600 hits a day, according to the founders. The people writing include homemakers, oil riggers, students and police. Prisoners do not have Internet access, Fairchild said. Instead, they mail information to Web sites to develop the ads, which often include protestations of innocence alongside paintings, poems and photos of prisoners taken in better days, or in the visiting room while subtly flexing their muscles. Inmates primarily learn about the sites from other prisoners, though family members also can provide information. Many sites have applications that family and friends can send to an inmate to fill in the necessary details. As for what the inmates write, PrisonPennPals.com founder Stephen Hartley said his site corrects grammatical errors and edits out profanities or sexually explicit material. Beyond that, he said, the material runs as the inmates provide it. People generally can write letters directly to inmates or via the Web site, which would mail the messages to the prisons. Some human-rights sites, such as the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty, cost nothing. More commercially oriented sites charge inmates up to $80 a year, or charge the people who wish to write to prisoners a fee for each message. Among the extras available to prisoners, one site will digitally alter dank visiting-room photos into fantasy vacations, showing inmates in resorts they have never visited or on cruises they have never taken. Kept from `going insane' Such idyllic spots are a far cry from the cell where Jesus Padilla Jr., 28, of Cicero, is locked up for 23 hours a day. An inmate at the Downstate Tamms super-maximum-security prison, Padilla was sentenced to 60 years after strangling an Oak Park woman, hiding her body in a shed and reportedly bragging about it. The lack of human contact spurred him to place an ad on an Internet Web site, where he averaged nine hits a day. "The Web site would provide a means for me to be able to have people from outside write to me and keep me from going insane in this place," Padilla said in a letter. "It is not every day that one can smile in a place such as this, but when you see the smiles radiating from a prisoner when he receives a letter from a friend you will grasp the profound meaning behind the contact we have made. Padilla, whose ad says he is an animal lover and an American Indian who upholds the ways of his ancestors, said he has corresponded with a teacher, another professional and a business owner. They write him out of curiosity about prisoners' lives or "just out of the kindness of their hearts," he said. Though the medium has changed from pen and paper to cyberspace, the controversy over such communications remains the same, said professor Ned Benton, who heads the public management department at the City University of New York's John Jay College of Criminal Justice. "As always in corrections, you're balancing questions of security and public safety, and questions of individual freedom," he said. Susanna Orr, Jeffrey Weides' mother, called for a ban on third-party communication. Her son, who had two children, was considering going into the landscaping business before Casteel's bullets ended the dream. "I don't think [Casteel] should have any contact with people he can be an influence on," Orr said New York and Arizona prohibit third-party mail and Internet access. But even with penalties including a loss of good-time credits, inmate Web pages in Arizona recently topped 150, Phelps said. Arizona's law, which human rights groups challenged in court this month as a violation of free speech, was created after a woman searching for information about her late father discovered his killer's Internet ad instead, Phelps said. "My concern is public safety," Phelps said. "I think these inmates are continuing to fleece the public, putting the money into accounts that someone else manages, and we have no idea. But, proponents argue that prisoners have rights and need contact with the outside world. Some of the sites document prison abuses and bring legal help to the innocent, said Tracy Lamourie, a co-founder of the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty. She hopes the Web will help end the death penalty by showing the human face of those sentenced to die. Engaged to a prisoner, Texan Laura Rawls, who writes inmates in several states, including Illinois, said inmates lose everything, even their families, as the years pass. "I saw there was so much pain behind those walls," said Rawls, who runs a prison ministry. "I wanted to do what I could to help, to let them know they're not alone. Society kind of shuns these guys. That's one of the main reasons they can't make it in this world." Rawls is engaged to an inmate pen pal. She said she hasn't received much support from the outside world."They think you're stupid for writing to inmates," she said. Though Rawls acknowledged the need to be cautious, she said she does not worry about writing inmates or her plans to marry one. "I believe everybody has the right to a second chance." "Most of the guys ... they're going to get out," said Cyberspace Inmates founder Rev. Rene Mulkey. "I would much prefer someone who's been rehabilitated, who has taken college courses, who has written with people and interacted as my neighbor, than someone who has spent time in a cage."