David Frances - From Death Row to Life

Second chance

Something amazing recently happened in my life. I reconnected with a family member who was in a very similar situation to the one I find myself in at the moment. He was once sentenced to life in prison, but now he’s a free man, and not just free, but is also a very productive citizen. Think about that for a second. Sentenced to life, looked at as someone not deserving of another opportunity at freedom, only to get out and prove them wrong. Not only is that an inspiration, but it’s motivation for me to keep striving to earn that opportunity as well, because I’m certain that if given another opportunity, I will make the best of it.

It’s different when someone says that they feel your pain, and you know that it’s sincere, and they’re not just saying that to say something nice.

This person and I share many childhood memories, some that I had forgotten about, and it moves me when I think about some of the things he remembers. I’ve been reflecting on that since our first conversation, the first conversation we’ve had in 30 years. It’s uplifting to share that moment with you.

One love

David

David speaks...

I wasn't on the row for very long before I had an experience with someone committing su***de. Up to that point in my incarceration, I've only heard of guys committing su***de, but this was the closest I was, physically, to someone who actually did it. He was a couple of cells away from me, one cell separated him and I.

Looking back, and knowing the little I know now, the signs were there, but I didn't recognize them at the time. He had recently gotten some relief from the courts, got his case overturned to life and would be going to general population after the sentencing was sorted out. From the day I met him, he always talked about how much he didn't want to go to general population, and was ok with spending the remainder of his life in solitary confinement. That was my introduction to him, even before I knew his name or what he looked like. The thing is, when I did get to interact with him, he was one of the smartest guys that I've ever met, but you could see that he was having a hard time adapting to being in prison. The type of person you would say had no business being in prison.

The night before, he and some of the guys he was ok with had like a celebration. After the fact, I found out that it wasn't a celebration; he just randomly decided to treat the guys he was ok with, which they thought was odd. They were confused, but they went along with it. I'm guessing that he had his mind made up at that point, and that was his goodbye.

The night it happened, we actually heard him. He was moaning, saying "Mama" over and over. We all thought that he was probably crying to himself, or probably having a bad dream and talking in his sleep. The moaning eventually stopped, and that was that. It wasn't until a later night, early morning, that an officer was making his rounds and saw what had happened. (Back then, officers didn't come around that often. It wasn't unusual to go hours without seeing an officer. I don't know what the rules were back then, but ever since then, officers on the row come around every 30 minutes.) Apparently, he had cut the vein in his thigh and had bled out. Not sure if he was still alive, but he also had to pass my cell on the stretcher on his way out. I'll never forget that image.

Other guys committed su***de during my time on the row, before I got to the row, and even since I've been in general population, but that hit me different, and had a lasting impact on me, because it was so close to me.

What needs to be said out loud is the fact that mental health isn't a higher priority throughout the prison system, and usually isn't taken seriously. I've seen guys with obvious mental health issues get mistreated and go untreated. Those are the guys with visible issues, so I can only imagine what the ones where you can't visibly see their symptoms are going through. A lot of these guys are coming into prisons with mental health issues that go untreated, and then are released back out into society. I'm not sure exactly what needs to be said, but it should start by addressing the issue and not pretending like it's not an issue throughout the prison system.

One love
David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

David speaks...

16. What is the trait you most deplore in others? Being close-minded is a trait I deplore in others.

17. What is your favorite journey? My favorite journey was any trip I took with my family, some of my most memorable moments.

18. Which living person do you most despise? I don't despise anyone, so I'll go with myself. There's a side of me that I'll forever be working on, so I despise that side of me.

19. Which word or phrase do you most overuse? Even though it's a favorite word of mine, I do overuse the word "hope" at times.

20. What is your greatest regret? Not fully living, and enjoying my childhood, but instead rushing to think that I was ready to take on adult responsibilities.

21. What or who is the greatest love of your life? The Caribbean. That's what I think of when I think of freedom, and I think about it at some point every single day.

22. If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be? I've experienced being a person, so I would like to come back and experience being an animal, and I would come back as a lion.

23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? I would say that getting to the point where you feel alone and like you have nothing to live for would be the lowest depth of misery.

24. What do you most value in friends? Accountability, that they're accountable and hold me accountable as well.

25. Who are your favorite writers? That's a tough one, but I'll go with Paolo Coelho and Khaled Hosseini.

26. Who is your favorite hero in fiction? Not sure if he was a hero, but the character from The Count of Monte Cristo. (It's been a while since I read it, but I think that his name was Edmond Dantes.)

27. How would you like to die? I would be lounging on the beach, Magens Bay to be exact, watching the sunset one final time.

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

*Thanks to David for answering the second part of our questions inspired by Vanity Fair’s Proust-style questionnaire.

David speaks...

1. On what occasion do you lie? I lie sometimes when I say that I'm ok, when I'm really not.

2. What do you dislike most about your appearance? I'm not loving the gray hairs that seem to be increasing by the day.

3. What are your favorite names? Denyque, (pronounced like unique with a D) my niece, and Wilhelmina (my favorite person's middle name).

4. What is your favorite extravagance? I'm ashamed to say junk food (As I'm eating some chocolate chip cookies, when I know that I shouldn't).

5. What is your greatest fear? Not dying, but growing old in prison and not being able to take care of myself (My fear of frogs is a close second).

6. What historical figure do you most identify with? The character, Jean Valjean (The main character in Les Misérables).

7. When and where were you the happiest? My childhood in the Caribbean when I didn't have a care in the world.

8. Which talent would you most like to have? It would feel like I had a superpower if I had the talent for public speaking.

9. What is your current state of mind? I'm a bit anxious at the moment. Feels like I'm not close to accomplishing the goals I've set for myself, and that makes me feel like I'm failing.

10. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? I would like to learn to just follow my first mind and stop overthinking things as much as I do. It's not always bad, but most time it's not.

11. What living person do you most admire? My Mom, because 2 of her 3 children are in prison, and I can say that I didn't always deserve her love.

12. What do you consider your greatest achievement? Surviving 18 years on Florida's death row, and instead of losing myself, became a better person from the experience.

13. If you could change one thing about your family what would it be? I would repair all the broken relationships within the family.

14. What trait do you most deplore in yourself? Self-doubt, I don't always see the potential in myself that others see in me.

15. What is your most marked characteristic? My optimistic mindset, no matter the situation.

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

*Editors note: We invited our contributors to answer questions inspired by Vanity Fair’s Proust-style questionnaire. Some responded to the questions, others wrote essays. We hope these reflections bring you closer to the voices behind the stories and remind you of our contributors' humanity. Thank you David for answering those questions.

David speaks...

I didn't know that 2nd chance month was a thing, but hopefully the word spreads and some people will be rewarded with a second chance this month.
Some people usually won't reach their full potential without a stumble or two along the way. To give up on someone after their first transgression is a tragedy. You never know who you're giving up on, because some people actually learn from their mistakes and become better from the experience. For example, there are a lot of talented people in prison, and I'm sure that they can use those talents for good if given another opportunity at freedom. Some people didn't even know of their talents until they came to prison. Of course, some people make it easy to argue against second chances. There are a lot of people that's been in and out of prison, or doing wrong, their entire lives. I know someone right now who's been to prison 9 times, and he still truly believes that he's worthy of another opportunity at freedom. I might be biased, because I'm on the other side of the fence, and I'm definitely not ok with locking people away for life, but at the same time, it's 9 times. I take him at his word and think that he's really tired of being a burden on his family.
Is it ever ok to give up on someone? Me personally, I don't think that it's ever ok to give up on someone. Again, I might be biased because I know what it feels like to be in a position where people don't even think that you deserve a second chance. I went to death row the first time I got in trouble at the age of 20.
One love
David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

David speaks...

I just joined a group called LWOP Mentors (life without parole mentors) program. It'll be an alternative to all the programs that are based towards the life with parole programs. There are currently no programs for LWOP inmates. It'll be the first of its kind, so I'll be one of the initial members. It's basically to show the important people that when they change the laws and decide to give guys like us another opportunity at freedom that we can show that we've been preparing, and we can show evidence of how we've been preparing. Like I said, it'll be the first of its kind, and I finally feel like I found some like-minded people to associate myself with. I really have a good feeling about it, because it already has the eyes of some important people. I'll be receptive to whatever advice you may have, because I know how passionate you are about this. Also, I'll be sure to keep you posted on how it's coming along.

We had to write like an introduction statement, basically a part of the process to show that we're committed and why we want to be a part of the group/movement, so I'll submit a bit of my statement on to you as my entry for next month. Here it is: (You may need to mention that it's a new group, LWOP mentors, so that the readers aren't too lost.)

I've been incarcerated since the age of 20 (Dec. 2000). At the age of 24, I was sentenced to death, and then resentenced to LWOP at the age of 42 (June 2022). As one may assume, the transition to general population wasn't easy after all those years of solitary confinement. On death row, you're surrounded by like-minded people, so there was unity because most were striving towards a common goal, staying alive. In general population, it's more like an everybody for themselves mentality, which is somewhat understandable, because the mindset of someone going home in a couple months is different from the mindset of someone with a couple life sentences. I struggled to find like-minded people, something that I realized that I was spoiled to have the past 18 years before the move to general population. It was also a struggle to see people that have given up and accepted their LWOP sentences. That's why there was no hesitation on my part when I was approached with the idea of putting together something for guys with LWOP.

I've also been passionate about mentoring, so I'll always try to make that a part of anything that I get involved in. I've been through more than enough, and know that my experiences can be used to influence others in a positive way. If I can stop someone from taking the path I took, because I know exactly where that path leads to, then that's a start. I know the importance of mentorship and how much of a difference the right guidance can make. Sometimes it's about showing a person different options. It hurts every time I come across talented, and young men with so much potential sitting in prison.

When you're in a position like I'm in, you're often asked what you're doing with your time, how you've changed since then, or why you deserve another chance at freedom. Of course, I'm not the same person I was at the age of 20, but I'm sure that we all can say that. I'm sincere when I say that I'm better now from my experience, but I do know that I'll have to do more than say it. That's another reason I'm going to be a part of this group, because they're going to hold every member accountable. It's about having people not only look at you as a case number, or a jail number.

With that being said, I'm excited to be a part of a movement, and to finally be amongst some like-minded people. The journey has just begun, but one day I want us to look back and be proud of being a part of the initial group that opened the gates for ourselves and many more behind us.

One love
David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

David speaks...

It's impossible for me to think of Black History and not have mixed emotions. I wish that I only had the progress to focus on, but it's obvious that we still have a long way to go. The fact that we're still having some of the same conversations we've been having for decades is enough to show how much more work is needed.

Lately, it seems like as soon as we take one step forward, something comes along and knocks us back two steps. It makes me wonder what Black History will look like 10, 20, or even 30 years from now. On top of all that, some people are trying to do away with teaching Black History, or watering it down to the point where they might as well do away with it. It makes me worry about future generations because they'll only be able to pass on what they learn, and if they're not learning much, what becomes of the history and traditions? Back in my days, I learned a lot from the yearly essays I did for Black History Month. Is that still a thing? Will they do away with that as well?

I wish that more of the civil rights leaders, and people that made sacrifices towards equality were around to see Obama being sworn in as the President of the U.S. That was such a big deal because the expectation of most was that they would never see a black President in their lifetime. Can you imagine if Martin Luther King Jr. was at Obama's inauguration? That would've been special. It's definitely not all bad, and even though it's only one month, let's make the best of it, put in the work, and add something positive to history.

One love
David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

David speaks...

Living in prison is never easy, and I've come to the realization that there are two ways to go about it. There are the ones that cut ties with the free world and immerse themselves in prison life. Then others stay connected to the free world.

The thing is to figure out the best option to get you through the day. I chose to continue cultivating and nurturing relationships with family and friends in the free world. I'm not saying that this is the best option, or that it'll work for everybody, but it's what works for me. Thankfully I have some people in my life who make it possible to keep my mind beyond these walls. I'm very aware that not every prisoner has that option, so it's never taken for granted.

To the ones who are in contact with loved ones who are in prison, know that you're making a difference, and continue giving them that option of thinking beyond the walls. To the ones that have loved ones that are in prison, but aren't in contact with them, reach out and let them know that they're not forgotten. You'll be surprised how much of an impact a small gesture like that can have.

One Love
David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

David speaks...

I don't celebrate Christmas, but I do look forward to this time of year. For me, I use this time to reflect. To think back on some of the good, bad, and questionable decisions I made throughout the year. I also think about the things I can improve on, mainly things I need to be more conscious of. It could be something as simple as being a better friend or cutting people out of my life that isn't uplifting in any way.

Even though I don't celebrate, it's hard not to be more homesick than usual this time of year, so this is usually the most difficult time of the year for me as well. On top of it, it's my 24th Christmas, on this side of the fence, and it doesn't get easier seeing another year roll by.

It's not all sad though, because I have loved ones that make this time of year a lot less lonely than it is, and that always gets me through. These are the moments I can't help but accept the fact that life is what you make it, and every day is an opportunity to leave a lasting impression. I can think of so many things that have left a lasting impression on my life this year, like all the encouraging, and kind messages that were passed on to me. Thank you all.

One love
David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

*Editor's note: Starting today and all December long, we’re sharing heartfelt essays, wishes and reflections from our contributors, some on death row, others in general population. Their voices on "All I Want for Christmas" are powerful and moving.

Who can tell my story
by Carol Prejean Zipper, PhD

So here you come and
you're saying that you can tell my story
So how will you start
I don't even know the beginning exactly
It goes back so far and so deep

So when you tell my story
how will you tell about all the pain
that you refuse to know about
and all the pain that I truly know about

And when you tell my story
where will you go to meet all my struggles
Do you know how I lift myself to greet a sunrise each morning
Do you know how I prepare my courage
and my faith to last through that coming sunset each evening
That's how my story goes

So you will tell my story
Where will you find what I know to celebrate
What do you have inside you that will connect
to the history that leads me on the journey
deep in my body and spirit and find that dance
and that song and that poem
that make my story

So you think you can tell my story
And you still don't hear your lie in that
You can tell my story

My story is mine and you can know it
when I tell it
My story is mine and you can know it
when you break down the lies in your own story that you
inflict on mine
My story is mine and when you hear it from me
You will know that it does connect to yours
And we can have our story when the past and the present are lifted in truth

When the story is ours we will know justice
And we will know peace,
And that's how the story goes.

David speaks...

Lately I've been thinking, and wondering, why some people are able to keep it together, mentally, in the face of adversity, more than others. Similar to having the gift of being able to perform under pressure. As I said in my previous entry, people are always telling me that I don't act like I've been locked up for as long as I've been, it'll be 24 years in December, or that I've even spent time on the row because I seem to still have it together. Trust me, I'm very aware that I'm dealing with some type of trauma from my experiences.

I'm all for therapy, and prioritizing one's mental health. I'm talking from experience with my share of sessions with psychologists over the years, and seeing the difference those sessions made. They all agree that I'm good at compartmentalizing the trauma in my life. I truly think that's my coping mechanism, but I often wonder if I have a tipping point where it'll be too much. Also, is it because of my life experiences and what I've overcome made it easier to deal with the trauma? We all have our ways of getting through difficult times, but when do we know when it's too much?

This week has been so stressful, and that's putting it nicely. My mental state was tested, and it made me wonder about a possible tipping point. Let me share a bit of what I dealt with last week. Hurricane Milton hit this area last week. They ended up evacuating the guys from the work camp across the street to our prison, so it was very crowded. To the point where there were three men in a cell. Keep in mind, it's a two-man cell that's barely big enough for one person, so it was a tight fit. On top of that, we had plumbing issues and the cell was flooded for two days, that was the worst. I'm a clean freak, so imagine how I felt having to deal with that. I feel dirty just thinking about it. That's on top of everything that comes from being in prison.

Anyways, I'm not good in crowds, it makes me anxious and agitated. I'm certain that's why it wasn't too hard on me being in solitary confinement all those years because I'm ok with being alone. Of course, it did get lonely at times, but as far as breaking me mentally, it was more stressful waiting for a decision from the court, especially when your appeals are being denied. That, and being away from loved ones, missing out on milestones, affected my mental health more than anything.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this. It's like therapy when I can share a bit of what's going on with me. With that being said, do take the time to focus on your mental health.

One love - David

*David Frances, a former death row prisoner whose sentence was commuted to Life Without Parole, is incarcerated in Florida.

David speaks...

I transferred to another prison a little over a month ago. A prison that's closer to my family and has programs that I'm interested in, so it was a win-win decision for me, and my family. At the same time, you never know what to expect when going to another prison. Of course, it's still prison, but you now have to adjust to a new environment, new faces, new personalities, and a new cellmate as well, and that's all unpredictable. Another thing, information moves quickly in the prison system. You'll be surprised, but as soon as you step off the bus, word already spread that you've arrived, especially if you're coming with a bit of history.

With that being said, I had an encounter the other day that let me know that that's the reality. The other day, a guy I met through a guy that I knew from another prison said something that led to an interesting conversation. He said that he heard that I was on death row, but I don't act like someone who's been on death row. Keep in mind, I never include the fact that I was on death row when I'm introducing myself, so it caught me off guard. First, how does someone who's been on death row carry themselves? I asked him what he meant by that, and he said that he expected them to act crazy and upset, whatever that means. Then I asked him where he got his information from. Apparently, he's someone that a little pull on the compound and it's his business to know who's who. He also said that everybody knows. As I said, word spreads fast in prison. He added that he knew the day I got here and had been observing me. That's another thing in prison, someone is always watching. There's absolutely no privacy. It's very important to have a clean reputation, because wherever you go, your history follows you. That's a topic for another day.

I'm mainly stuck on the part about not acting like I was on death row. Am I supposed to be broken, out of my mind, and upset at the world? Or, should I take it as a compliment? I'm so confused. What I do know, in every situation, especially in situations that are not ideal, you have to either make the best of it, or let it break you. I chose to make the best of it. I definitely didn't do it on my own, and I continue making that decision every morning before starting my day. So, I truly hope that people won't think of the death row when they meet me, because I'm so much more.

One love
David

*Please welcome David Frances who is incarcerated in Florida. Former death row prisoner, his sentence was commuted to Life without Parole. Thank you David for joining the Death Row Soul Collective's family.