Transcriber: Delia Cohen Reviewer: Denise RQ
When I first came to prison, I had never been to a prison visiting room before.
Let me describe to you what a prison visit looks like,
the prison visiting room.
It reminded me, in 1989, the first time I'd ever been in one,
of a fast food restaurant,
being locked inside of a fast food restaurant:
very crowded, with vending machines,
no fast food at all, just vending machines,
children, children playing, a few toys, law enforcement,
a lot of rules and regulations
that made it kind of a restrictive environment.
It is soul crushing to me that I have created a situation
in which this is the only environment that my children can come to see me.
My kids have problems; my kids have issues that they need to deal with.
And I'm responsible for making it extremely difficult for them
to get through day-to-day life with the support of a parent.
I'd like to share a letter
which my daughter Savannah wrote to me in 2012.
Scott Budnick and Delia Cohen attempted to get my daughter here.
It would have been the first time I'd seen her in 19 years.
We weren't able to arrange it; there wasn't time.
I wanted her to read her own letter, but I'll read it for her,
"Dad, many things haven't been said,
and there are words which might never be spoken.
The system took you away from me when I was a child,
robbed me of the love I needed, robbed me of a smile;
took away a part of my heart.
I prayed the same prayer every night especially for you.
After all, I guess that's what little girls do;
like wishing on a star.
It didn't happen in an instant; it didn't happen overnight.
I thought about you.
For 19 years you were away, but I thought about you each and every day.
You have finally found me; you have some peace of mind.
You have faced all your demons, and they've finally set you free.
With your back against the bars which confine you,
and your soul - free from the shackles which held you bound.
now you are facing me.
Dad, I have to let you know that I am proud of you
for never giving up on us even in your darkest hours,
even when you were portrayed as a monster; I can still feel your love.
I still felt you with me.
I know we will make up for lost time
as we walk through this world hand in hand.
I love you, Daddy.
I will always be your baby girl, and you will always be my hero.
You mean the world to me; you have made me love again.
I love you for all the good you have done so far,
and I do not stop loving you for the one wrong thing you have done.
Daddy, I believe in you.
My love always, Your daughter, Savannah."
(Applause)
I haven't seen my daughter, Savannah, or my daughter, Emily, in 19 years.
They both live out of state.
My son Brandon lives out of state as well; I haven't seen him in eight years either.
I had court-ordered visitation with him,
but when my ex-wife stopped bringing him, I couldn't take her to court,
and so I just had to do the moral thing and leave him be.
Within California state prisons, there currently are buildings on grounds,
which are used for what they call "The Family Visiting Program."
Inside of The Family Visiting Program,
the buildings are set up for a 48-hour visit
between families and their prisoners.
Currently, prisoners serving life sentences, like myself,
are not able to participate in this program in almost all instances.
There are a few exceptions; I'm not one of them.
My children are the ones that pay for this.
My call to action today is a very simple one;
it would require only a rule change,
and that would be to let prisoners serving indeterminate life sentences
participate in the existing family visiting program
within California state prisons for the sake of our kids.
Thank you.
(Applause)
(Cheers)
(Applause)