At one point Sons of Guns was the most watched television show on TV.The show which centered around the Hayden family gun shop Red Jacket Firearms, was headed towards a lifetime of income from the season renewals and growing popularity.however all that was soon to change!After five seasons, the show was cancelled on August 27, 2014, as a direct result of William Hayden's arrest on various sexual charges.On April 7, 2017, Hayden was convicted on two counts of aggravated rape and one count of forcible rape. On May 11, 2017, Hayden was sentenced to two life sentences plus 40 years in prison to be served consecutively, for rape of two girls between ages of 11 and 13.Bloody Angola host (s) Woody Overton and Jim Chapman break down the case, and give you the truth of this monster you will not hear anywhere else!#Sonsofguns #Williamhayden #BloodyAngolapodcast

Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Privacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

In this episode of Bloody Angola Podcast, Woody Overton and Jim Chapman tell the story of Robert Lee Willie who was executed at Bloody Angola in 1984 and his story was part of the inspiration for the movie "Dead Man Walking"Woody and Jim Cover the victims, the crimes and the eventual execution of willie via electric chair. #DeadManWalking #BloodyAngolaPodcast #truecrime #robertwillie #prison #convict #podcast #susansonrandon #seanpenn #hollywood #serialkillers #louisianaFull TranscriptTHE REAL DEAD MAN WALKINGJim: Hey, everyone, and welcome to this episode of Bloody-Woody: -Angola.Jim: A podcast 142 years in the making.Woody: The Complete Story of America's Bloodiest Prison.Jim: And I'm Jim Chapman.Woody: And I'm Woody Overton.Jim: Y'all, we have got, Woody, I'd say one of the most highly requested stories we've had since we started.Woody: Right. I agree with you but when people request this, they are thinking about a movie. They don't know the real story.Jim: They don't. As someone who, in preparation of this episode, actually watched the movie again, I can say it's nothing like it.Woody: No doubt you did your research and the homework on it. Once again, you found out things that I didn't even know. But I knew the true story, and I knew when I saw the movie, it was two different things put together. But this is-- some of this, y'all, is going to be hard to hear, but we always told you it'd be different on Bloody Angola.Jim: That's right.Woody: So, we're going to get to talking today, and we're going to call the name this episode The Real Dead Man Walking. And y'all, we're talking about Robert Willie. Okay, so I'm going to start telling you about Faith Colleen Hathaway. Now, Faith was born in Orlando, y'all, in 1961, but she grew up in Mandeville, Louisiana. Mandeville is about an hour east drive of Baton Ridge and right across Lake Pontchartrain from New Orleans. Faith had been around, her family traveled a lot. Her family had left Louisiana for a few years and then the mid-1970s to travel, and they spent a lot of time in Ecuador and Haiti. I guess maybe they're doing mission work or something.Jim: Yeah, primarily mission work.Woody: Well, going to these different countries helped Faith develop a love for learning different languages and sparked her interest in joining the military. She knew that soldiers who were bilingual were desired and sought after by the US Army at the time. By her senior year of high school, she signed her commitment to join army, just like I did. So, immediately following graduation, she was going to get shipped out to basic training.Jim: That's it. On May 21st, 1980, she did just that, Woody Overton. She graduated from high school, and at 18 years old, she had her sights on reporting to active duty. That was like a week later, on May 28th of 1980, she was to report.Woody: She's rolling.Jim: She's rolling just a week after graduation, but sadly, she never made it. On May 27th, 1980, Faith awoke, she had breakfast at McDonald's in Mandeville, which is a smaller town back then. Now, it's-Woody: Yeah, it's pretty big.Jim: -pretty big. But back then, it was just a little Podunk town. And she did some shopping. She actually shopped for support bras because her recruiter mentioned she's going to probably need those for basic training and she was running out of time to have to report as basic training, as we told you, was the next day. She returned to the apartment complex her mom managed where her and a friend, they shared a separate unit from her mother and stepfather. She's 18, and it was the 70s all. It was different. Nowadays, you think about that and it's like, "What?"Woody: Right. "I'm not going to let my daughter do that." But totally different time, totally different world.Jim: Totally. She decided she wanted to go swimming in the pool. So, she did that. Then, she gets dressed and she had kind of her last day at work before joining basic training and she worked at a local restaurant.Woody: Yeah. The difference between her and I, when I went eight years later, I wasn't trying to work in the [crosstalk]Jim: [chuckles] I wouldn’t either.Woody: That shows her commitment. I was getting drunk to shit for probably a week before.But she was go-getter.Jim: Worked all the way to her last day at work. After working her shift, she had some friends who contact her. Well, one friend in particular. She said, "Hey, let's go out for drinks after you get off work. It's your last night in town." And so, that's what they did. They go to a local bar and celebrate her leaving the next day for basic training.Woody: The next morning comes and that's May the 28th and Faith's mom went to Faith's room or her apartment, whatever you want to call it, to spend some time with her before her army recruiter showed up to pick her up and bring her to the military bus that would take her to basic training. When Faith's mom opened the bedroom door, she was surprised to see that Faith hadn't slept in her bed. She woke up Faith's roommate and asked her to say, "Hey, where's Faith at?" And her roommate said that she had gone to bed early the night before and hadn't seen Faith since she left for work the prior night. Faith's mom then calls-- now y'all, there was no cell phone, Faith's mom then calls the friend that Faith had drinks with the night before and she was hoping that Faith had stayed the night at her house, but she hadn't.So, naturally what do moms do? Because this wasn't like Faith. Her mom panicked. And she got in contact with Faith's biological father who lived in New Orleans. And Faith was really tight with him, and she told him, said, "Hey, I can't find Faith. And she never came home evidently." He jumps into action and went straight to the police and reported her missing, both to the Mandeville Police Department and the St. Tammany Parish Sheriff's Office.Jim: Yeah, this guy just kind of got into action. Went dad mode, and mom was in a panic, understandably. Thank God, one of them could keep a level head long enough to think about what to do. On the following day, which was Thursday, May 29th, 1980, a multi-state alert was basically put out on her disappearance. By Sunday, personal articles of clothing werediscovered in a remote 47-acre tract of land in Franklinton, Louisiana, which is about an hour's drive north, y'all, of Mandeville, where she was last seen.Woody: In Washington Parish. Really, really rural. Jim: Yeah. Very rural.Woody: [crosstalk] -over there is papermill.Jim: That's it. And you can smell it when you're passing through. The belongings were discovered really by mere chance. There was a family. They were picnicking in the area, and their seven-year-old daughter walked up to them, and the daughter had a tube of lipstick. The mother asked her, she said, "Where did you get that?" And the child said behind a tree. There's a lot of stuff back there. So, the family kind of goes back there and looks, and they discover a full case of makeup, a bunch of clothing that turned out to be Faith's. How they kind of knew it was her was they found a billfold with her driver's license in it, and it had some other belongings. They go straight to Covington, Louisiana, and return those to the sheriff's office, not realizing at the time that this person was missing. They were just being good citizens.Woody: They know Faith's missing, and now they know basically you don't get a female doesn't go anywhere without her purse or makeup and ID and all that, but her clothes were there. So, they jump into action, and a search party was formed. On Wednesday, June of 4th, 1980, Faith's body was found in some thick underbrush just 200 yards from where her belongings were found five days earlier. Faith had been brutally raped, and her throat had been slashed. Her body was locked up in rigor mortis in a spread-eagle position, legs forced open, arms above her head, several severed fingers. This is a sign, y'all, naturally. The severed fingers is a sign that Faith tried to defend herself, but ultimately it was futile. She had been stabbed repeatedly in the neck with a large knife and had a total of 17 stab wounds [unintelligible [00:10:40]. The cut across her throat was so deep that her necklace was embedded into her flesh. The pathologist who performed the autopsy said that her death was not immediate and had to be excruciating. Basically, it took long enough for her to bleed to death. It's a horrible, horrible death.Jim: Yeah.Woody: This isn't like in the woods, y'all. You can imagine being out there fighting for your life, and somebody just slicing you. 17 stab wounds is a lot. But then, you slice the neck so hard that you embed the necklace deep into your neck. It's crazy.Jim: It really is. Woody: 18 years old.Jim: 18 years old, and just about to leave for basic training the morning all this went down really.Woody: Whole life ahead of you.Jim: Whole life ahead of you. Now what no one suspected at the time outside of the police was, well, when Faith's body was found was that a connection was being made. On May 31st, 1980, just three days before the disappearance of Faith Hathaway, another abduction had taken place in the same area. Mark Brewster, who was 20, parked his car near the Tchefuncte River, and that was a lover's lane, and he had a 16-year-old girlfriend. Different time, y'all. I'm not saying I agree with that but it's a different time. It was more common thenthan now. Two men approached the vehicle. They were armed with guns, and they forced Mark into the trunk of the vehicle while driving to Alabama and repeatedly raping his young girlfriend.Now near Wilcox, Alabama, the two men stopped the vehicle in a wooded area. They pull Brewster out of the trunk. They tie him to a tree and they shoot him twice in the head with a .22 revolver before slashing his throat and leaving him for dead.Woody: That's crazy.Jim: Wilcox, Alabama is not a stone's throw from here. Woody: That’s away.Jim: It's away. The two men then drive

Woody Overton and Jim Chapman of Bloody Angola Podcast tell the story of Clifford Etienne and the Louisiana Prison Boxing Program at Louisiana State Penitentiary and other prisons.#cliffordetienne #theblackrhino #bloodyangolapodcast #podcastFull TranscriptBloody Angola Podcast ( THE BLACK RHINO)Jim: Hey, everyone, and welcome to another edition of Bloody-Woody: -Angola.Jim: A podcast 142 years in the making.Woody: The Complete Story of America's Bloodiest Prison.Jim: And I'm Jim Chapman.Woody: And I'm Woody Overton. Welcome, y'all, back to another episode of Bloody Angola. And we appreciate you listening and liking, subscribing, and all that good stuff.Jim: Yeah.Woody: We want to thank our Patreon members who are very instrumental in the show. Y'all stay tuned at the end of the show and we're going to talk about that some more. But, Jim, today we've got something-- We always said it'd be different. Today, this is a very, very interesting story, which I do have a lot of personal connection with.Jim: I think we can title this one The Black Rhino.Woody: The Black Rhino. Absolutely. I knew the Black Rhino when he was becoming the Black Rhino. This guy's name was Clifford Etienne. And that's, y'all, not from South Louisiana. It's E-T-I-E-N-N-E. Clifford Etienne grew up in New Iberia, Louisiana, home of tabasco. We call it affectionately the Berry. If you're from South Louisiana, they just call it the Berry. I got paternal brothers from down there and Bobby [unintelligible 00:03:03], if you're listening, shoutout, Probation And Parole, State of Louisiana.Jim: But there's not much out there either. It's the tabasco plain if you're going to New Iberia pretty much.Woody: It's growing up a lot over the years, but back then, and specifically in this time frame that I'm going to be talking about, Clifford Etienne was coming up and he was truly, basically a stud.Jim: Yeah. He dominated in wrestling. He played baseball. Woody: Linebacker in football.Jim: Track and field. He threw the disc and the shot. Woody: 6'2", 290 pounds.Jim: Big boy. And was recruited by LSU, Nebraska, Texas A&M, Oklahoma, which these days are dominant, but back in those days were extremely dominant.Woody: And recruited as a linebacker. And he just was a stud-stud. But sometimes, life happens and people try cocaine or different things or they hang with the wrong crowd. And that's what Clifford started to do. He could have had the world as his oyster, and he would it in later years and seems like history repeats itself, unfortunately. Back then, on a certain day in Lafayette, Louisiana, when Clifford was a young man--Jim: Yeah, he was 18. As most 18-year-olds do, he was getting away with what he could, and him and four friends decided it would be a good idea to rob some customers at a shopping mall in Lafayette.Woody: It was the only shopping mall in Lafayette at the time. And that was in 1988. I was there in 1989. And when USL was USL, now it's ULL. Go, Cajuns.Jim: Yes.Woody: But they robbed some people. And ultimately, he got busted.Jim: Yeah, he got sentenced to 40 years. The first stint was Bloody Angola. That was where he first went.Woody: And 40 years, y'all, would have been the minimum on armed robbery. It carries up to 99 years in the state of Louisiana. I think he was like 18 years old, he gets sentenced and they ship him to Bloody Angola.Jim: That's right. Eventually, after a few transfers, he ends up at DCI.Woody: That's Dixon Correctional Institute, y'all. That's where I would come to know him. What happened was I was working the working cell block, which y'all heard me talk about before. It's different than admin seg, because there's two men to a cell. But working cell block is where you only get sent for major rule violations. Basically, for street charges, whether you're smuggling, dope, you attack an officer, you rape somebody, or you fight with weapons. Now, I had two tiers of the working cell block that I ran and I can remember distinctly, Clifford Etienne was in the cell with a guy from Livingston Parish, a white guy from Livingston Parish. Now, Clifford Etienne is a black man, and they were in the next to the last cell at the end of the tier. The tier only had cells on one side, y'all, face the screen windows. They had a couple of black and white TVs down the tier.But I would stop and talk to them all the time because the guy from the LP, I knew him from the street, and I knew him back from the club days. We knew some of the same people. You're not supposed to become friends and stuff with the convicts, which I submit to you that when you are working 12-hour shifts in two on, two off, three on, two off, two on, three off, but even on my days off, the Department of Corrections was always short and they had an on call list. Basically, I could work 30 days a month.But I'm doing time just like they're doing time. I was doing time just like they were doing time. They locked those doors behind you on that 12-hour shift, you can only shower them and feed them and have nurse calls so much and shit gets a little boring. So, I would stop, and I did a couple of years back there-- and I say it, I'm like a convict, but it [Jim chuckles] really was like doing time. Did a couple of years back there. When you get locked up on the working cell block, once you get locked up, you have to do 90 days without a low court or a high court write-up. You go back before the board and they basically hear your case as to whether or not you can be released in general population. Well, the problem with that is, y'all, in the working cell blocks, basically, they're worst of the worst because these are people that can't even follow the basic rules in prison, even the small rules, and the ones that, like I said, were back there for serious charges. Now, the white guy in the cell was back there for having or suspicion of having sex with a female guard. That's a no-no, but it is what it is, right?[laughter]Woody: If you can get over and do what you do, that's what they're going to do. Now, his cellie was Clifford Etienne. So, I began to talk to him. Look, this is a massive dude. Now, I was 6'2", probably 250 at the time. And he's 6'2", 300 pounds but he was all muscle. I mean, like solid as a rock. But he was a really cool dude, and I say that. I know he robbed people and shit like that, but he could have been an asshole to me or anything else, but I would hang out and stand in front of the cell late at night and shit. I'm entertainment for them also. We were talking and I found out that Etienne was a boxer, and he was actually on DCI's boxing team, but also found out that he was an accomplished artist.He asked me when we're talking one night, said, "You married? You dating someone?" I said, "I'm dating someone." "Can you give me a picture of her?" "Bro, I'm not bringing you a picture of my girlfriend." [Jim laughs] He said, "No. I'm an artist. I'm going to draw a picture and you can give it to her." So, the next time I came back to work, I got a little snapshot and I gave it to him. The next evening, I came back to work, and he had hand sketched an exact likeness of this girl. And I can't remember her last name. I think her first name was Debbie. It was just fucking piece of artwork and I was blown away. It's on a basic piece of paper done in pencil. I'm like, "Bruh, you got talent." I didn't know what I would come to find out later on and what we're going to talk about.Also, I talked to him about boxing because I like boxing, and I like to box. Both of my grandfathers went to college for boxing, one at USL and one for LSU. They boxed on the college boxing teams. I asked him, I said, "You get into a fight--" just more like bullshit. I said, "If you're going to hit somebody." He said, "Woody, if you're going to hit somebody, I want you to hit him hard as you can in the stomach. Don't let him know it's coming. You rear back, full body swing. Hit him in the stomach." And I said, "Why is that?" He said, "Because if you do it right, you're going to knock the air out of him. Then, they're defenseless. You can just beat him to a pulp."Jim: Yeah.Woody: He would go on to become the Interprison Boxing Champion for the state ofLouisiana. Y'all, each prison has their own boxing team, and it's big shit.Jim: Yeah. I'm going to tell you about his reputation in prison and a little bit about a trainer that had actually started working with him in prison. There was a guy named Valrice Cooper. And Valrice Cooper had a nickname. It was Whoop. They called him Whoop because of boxing. Whoop, whoop. That's how he would say when you punch. It was a whoop. Everybody knew Whoop in the prison system. He was a steward of the Louisiana prison boxing scene. He was an inmate himself. Whoop, he didn't have the pleasure of meeting Etienne until after the boxer-- He was already the most dominant prison fighter in Louisiana. As Woody said, these different prisons have their own boxing teams. Angola has one, DCI has one. There's one in North Louisiana.Woody: Hunt.Jim: Hunt has one. This is a big deal in prison, these boxing teams. Whoop was the guywho kind of managed that, even as an inmate.Woody: Basically, helped Etienne perfect his craft better.Jim: Absolutely. He had heard about this guy, this 6'2", 290-pound fighter, and he started working with Etienne. From the first second he saw him, he could tell from his movement, he had a ton of natural talent. He countered right, he stepped back right, he circled correctly. As a matter of fact, Whoop would describe him as a prison version of Muhammad Ali, y'all. That's how good he was. Anybody describes you as Muhammad Ali, you're good. But theprison version of Muhammad Ali from a guy who really knew that sport was amazing. Etienne continued to dominate in the prison world. He actually won 30 bouts, never lost.Woody: Y'all, real quick. Certainly, they would practice amongst themselves at Dixon Correctional Institute, etc.Jim: Shadow box.Woody: Right. W

Woody Overton AND Jim Chapman lay out the details when prisoners incarcerated at Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola die. What is the funeral procession like....Do family members claim the bodies...where and how are they buried? Answers to all this and more on this 5th episode of Season 3 titled Dying in Prison.#BloodyAngolaPodcast #Dyinginprison #Podcast #Podcasts #truecrime #prison #convictFULL TRANSCRIPT:BLOODY ANGOLA: A PODCAST BY WOODY OVERTON AND JIM CHAPMAN (DYING IN PRISON)
Jim: Hey, everyone, and welcome to Bloody-
Woody: -Angola. 
Jim: A podcast 142 years in the making.
Woody: The Complete Story of America's Bloodiest Prison. 
Jim: And I'm Jim Chapman. 
Woody: And I'm Woody Overton.
Jim: And we're going to talk to y'all about some amazing programs that take place in Angola today. It's going to be a little different episode. No murder stuff going on today.
Woody: Right. Well, it's got a lot of death in it. 
Jim: It sure does. [laughs] 
Woody: Not necessarily murder. Some of them, I'm sure, were murders that occurred inside the wire. 
Jim: That's a great point. 
Woody: But ultimately none of us are getting out of this life alive.
Jim: That's right. 
Woody: Always talk about almost 6000 inmates and how 80% of them are going to die inside the wire. Well, think about that, y'all. If you get sentenced to life Angola, let's say you're 20 years old and you're going to have family members and they care about you and love you and all that stuff. But over the years, what happens? Your mom and your daddy are going to die. Your grandparents are going to die. Your siblings are going to have lives of their own and life goes on. We've heard so many times that the inmates say everybody forgets about them. If you live another 50 years in Angola, then really you don't have anybody to care about you on the outside anymore but the people that you're locked up with basically become your family and your best friends.
Jim: That's right. A lot of these people or probably the vast majority are locked up for things that are just horrific, and you don't end up in Angola for life if you were an altar boy. In a lot of cases, family maybe turned their backs on them and was the black sheep of that family or whatever and they don't have anybody to pay those respects at the end of their life and so they get buried at Angola in the prison. We're going to go into of that information. 
Point Lookout Cemetery is the prison cemetery in Angola. It's located on the north side of Angola. It's at the base of the Tunica Hills. This is obviously a situation where what we just told you about, family members are also deceased or there's just no family members that want anything to do with them. 
Woody: Or maybe they don't have the financial means to come and claim the body when the inmate dies. So, they're forgotten about. But Louisiana has the highest incarceration rate of any US state and of course, sentencing is extremely harsh. But at Angola, 73% of the 6250 inmates are serving sentences of life without parole. The average sentence for the remaining 27% that aren't serving life without is still 90.9 years.
Jim: Pretty much alive.
Woody: Right. Prisoners aren't even sent to Angola unless they're sentence is over 50 years. Y'all, I believe that's more likely 80 years, like I said in the past. Basically, the result of this is with sentences of this length, most inmates lose touch with the family members and there's no one to collect the remains when they die. 
Jim: This prison has been around a long time. Go back and listen to The Walls and how Angola got started, but Angola has been around forever.
Woody: 140 some years.
Jim: 142 years in the making, if you want to get specific. During that time, they did have another cemetery. Woody's going to give you a little heads-up on what happened with that.
Woody: Well, the first Angola cemetery got destroyed by a flood in 1927. Now, y'all remember, Angola is surrounded by the Mississippi River on three sides, and every few years, it grows outside of this bank and floods everything. But in 1927, when the flood happened and the water receded, the remains and caskets were found along the levee, and it was impossible to identify anyone. The bodies were reburied in a mass grave in a new cemetery called Point Lookout. It was about two acres, but it was full by the mid 1990s. It contained 331 marked graves and an unknown number of people in the mass grave. An annex, Point Lookout 2, is now in use, and it has a capacity of 700 plots. Approximately 100 of those graves now have been filled, and with the aging inmate population, it will likely max out-
Jim and Woody: Near future. 
Woody: In the past, convicts were buried basically in cardboard boxes, y'all. And today, thanks to Warden Cain, the deceased are buried in coffins made at the prison woodshops by an inmate master carpenter. That's his only job, y'all. These handmade caskets are constructed with brown stained birch and pine. It takes about a week to make just one. Other inmates make the shrouds for the coffins. I want to read you a quote of what Burl Cain said. He said, "Once a man dies, his sentence is complete, and there should be dignity in the passing," Warden Burl Cain.
Jim: There you go. You've heard us mention Warden Burl Cain before, and I can't wait to be in the future we're going to do an episode centered completely around Warden Cain, because like every other human being in the world, he had faults in his life, but be hard pressed to find a more respected warden than Warden Cain, and I'm talking nationally. This guy is well known to people that aren't even in the prison circles. So, that tells you who he was, absolutely-- and still alive today and runs the Mississippi Correctional-- the entire correctional system for the state of Mississippi. So, I don't mean to talk as if he's not with us anymore. 
Woody: Y'all, I've known him for over 30 years. I've worked for him at Dixon Correctional Institute. He is a very religious man, but he's a nonsense man. But he actually cares about the prisoners, as strange as that sounds. He cares about them and he wants to give them dignity, even in death. 
Jim: Yes. 
Woody: He was very instrumental in bringing all the changes to Angola, from healthcare to prison inmate programs and give them hope and stuff like that. But he specifically cares about them in death. And even the executions, he stands with them he eats their last meal-- or he used to when he was in Angola. He would eat the last meal with them, whatever they chose. He was there with them when they took the last breath.
Jim: 100%. I'll tell you a quick story about how Burl Cain transformed not only the caskets themselves, but the entire process of conducting a funeral for these Angola inmates. When he was in his first year at Angola, they had a burial for one of the prisoners that he attended. At that burial, they were lowering the prisoner into the ground. At this time, they were essentially crates with cardboard--
Woody: Basically, like a cardboard box. A big, long cardboard box that holds the body.
Jim: They're lowering this inmate down and the bottom fell out of the cardboard box. If that wasn't bad enough, as they started piling dirt on, the top end of the cardboard casket collapsed. In Burl Cain's eyes, this has got to change. It was a total loss of dignity.
Woody: Right, dignity there.
Jim: At that point, he seeked out who was considered the best carpenter in Angola, talked to him and said, "Look, we want you to head this new program where we're going to build caskets for the prisoners." The guy was more than willing to do it, obviously. And off they went with the casket building that has become world renowned. We'll tell you later about some people you may have heard of that have actually been buried in caskets built by prisoners of Angola.
Woody: Right. Now, think about this, y'all. Everybody gets sentenced to Angola-- well, I can't say everybody, but a lot of them have certain crafts that they're masters of before they went in. This guy was a master carpenter. I mean, you have electricians, you have lawyers, you have doctors, you have painters, whatever. Burl sought out the best carpenter. I know they have a lot of them, but he sought out the best carpenter to make these caskets. Now, I know we're going to talk about more in detail but think about how much a casket costs. It costs you like $7000, $8,000 for a general casket for a funeral now, but think about how much it would cost you to have a hand crafted-
Jim: Custom made.
Woody: -custom-made, just beautiful piece of artwork so you can go to eternal rest in it.
Jim: 100%. And he also instituted some other programs.
Woody: In 1998, Burl, the funeral process, just taking a casket out there, even though it was hand built and all that in the back of a pickup truck, that still is not like a funeral procession. So, in 1998, he had inmates build a black horse-drawn hearse modeled after an 1800s vintage funeral coach for use during the burial rites. Now, this hearse is a beautiful piece of artwork in itself, and it's pulled by two large white Percheron horses. The hearse is driven by an inmate dressed in black tailcoat and a black high hat, which are also made in Angola in the sewing shop. And six pallbearer follow the coach on the road to the cemetery and assist with the burial. Inmate ministers conduct a service, and the living, traditionally sinned, they're departed away with acapella rendition, "Praise the Lord, I'm free. No longer bound. No more chains holding me. My soul is resting. It's just a blessing. Praise the Lord. Hallelujah. I am free." 
Jim: Yeah, it's a sight to be seen, really, these horse-drawn carriages, and so much respect is put into that. You may ask yourself, we're talking

Kelly Jennings joins Woody Overton and Jim Chapman for yet another appearance and they discuss Angola prisoner Miguel Velez who in the eighties was hired to kill drug runner Barry Seal by Cocaine King Pablo Escobar.#Barryseal #pabloescobar #drugs #gangsters #cartel #podcast #bloodyangolapodcast

Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Privacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Woody Overton and Jim Chapman bring you inside the world of female convicts in this Sally Port companion edition to Bloody Angola with "Boss Bitches" In this first edition they cover 4 female convicts who graced the headlines in different times in history including Martha Stewart, Susan Atkins, Aileen Wuornos and Brenda Spencer. #Marthastewart #susanatkins #aileenwuornos #brendaspencer #podcasts#truecrime #bloodyangolapodcast

Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Privacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

First it was the Red Hat, brutal.....Then upon the closure of the Red Hat Cell Block came its replacement, even more brutal was the notorious Camp J.Closed in 2018 forever, Camp J was feared by even the convicts of Death Row and the most infamous solitary cell block in America.Woody Overton and Jim Chapman of Bloody Angola Podcast share the story of Camp J and the details that made it so bad.#CampJ #WilbertRideau #PrisonPodcast #BloodyAngola #LouisianaStatePrison #SolitaryConfinementFULL TRANSCRIPTBLOODY ANGOLA: A Podcast by Woody Overton and Jim Chapman (Camp J)
Jim: Hey, everyone, and welcome to Bloody-
Woody: -Angola.
Jim: A podcast 142 years in the making. 
Woody: The Complete Story of America's Bloodiest Prison. 
Jim: And I'm Jim Chapman. 
Woody: I'm Woody Overton.
Jim: And we're going to talk about Camp J today, Woody.
Woody: Yeah, y'all. Camp J was always controversial, and certainly we can't cover all of Camp J in one episode, but we're not going to make a series out of this. We're just going to bring you some as we go along. Everything from Jim's phenomenal research on stuff and some of the stuff we're going to play today to, in the future, having former inmates that were in Camp J and all that. But let me tell you real quick about Camp J. If you go back on the history part, you remember when they closed the Red Hat cell block, they had to come up with a new area to house the worst of the worst, and that was Camp J.
Jim: If you're sitting there and you're wondering, "What is the Red Hat cell block?", well, we covered that, and I believe it was Season 2's opener of Bloody Angola. One thing I'll make sure I do is link that in the description, because this may be your first episode with Bloody Angola. 
Woody: The Red Hat Cell Block, y'all, was notorious and they ended up shutting it down. How bad does a fucking place have to be if you're going to shut it down, when it's housing people that nobody cares about? But to get locked up in these places like the Red Hat before they shut it down and the new and improved Camp J when they opened it up, you have to be a real, real problem. Now, it doesn't matter what your crime is that you commit on the street, when you get to Angola, you get classified and most convicts do their time in dormitories. But you get locked down on Camp J was an extended lockdown-
Jim: CCR, Closed Cell Restricted.
Woody: -cell block. To get locked up there, you didn't just get in a fistfight with another inmate. That's a regular working cell block or admin seg thing. You had to either attack a guard with weapons, not just a fistfight. Weapons could be feces or urine also. Or get caught smuggling drugs and/or escape or try to escape. 
Jim: Rape. 
Woody: Rape. Yeah, you could call it raping somebody. You had to do something so bad that they wanted to lock you away from the rest of the prison population.
Jim: Think about it as a prison inside a prison. One of the questions you may have had was, "Well, you're already in prison. What else can they do to you?" Well, they have to have a place they can send you that is even worse than the situation you're already in. You're already in jail. You're already being told when to shit, when to eat, all those sorts of things. So, what can they do to you outside of that in CCR units or lockdowns or whatever you want to call it? Camp J was the place that you went to when you broke the rules in prison.
Woody: The worst rules. They like killed somebody or whatever. 
Jim: Shanked. Jugged them up.
Woody: Killed them good.
Jim: Killed them good. [chuckles] 
Woody: When you get sent to Camp J, you have to do 90 days before you come up for a review to be released back in general population. Now, that's 90 days without a low court or a high court writeup. And that means no rule infractions. If you're back there on your first day, and most of them do, and you fuck up, you do something wrong, guess what happens? You know you got to finish your other 89 days, or you're going to automatically get rejected. These guys aren't model convicts by any means, and they get the other 89 days to fuck up, and you can't do them anymore. So, when your review comes up again, you automatically get them denied, and then you get a clean slate for the next 90 days. But they got convicts in Camp J that are housed there forever.
Jim: Forever. 
Woody: I mean, like so many years. I guess we should tell them a little bit about it. 
Jim: One thing I want to go into before we do that, just paint the picture.
Woody: Oh, yeah. Paint the picture of the cells and everything else. 
Jim: Think of it like this, y'all. If you were like me and you were raised and your parents would do this to you, maybe you'd say a cuss word, you see how that helps us [crosstalk] saying-- Cusswords every now and then. So, maybe--
Woody: [crosstalk] -get the soap. 
Jim: Yeah, get the soap. That's one version. But a lot of parents would say, "Go in the corner, put your nose in the corner, and stand there till I tell you to come out."
Woody: My dad would just beat my ass-
[laughter]
Woody: -with a leather belt from Mexico which said "Mexico" and had dove imprints on there, it used to leave them on me. But I promise you, I deserved every one of them.
Jim: Every one of them. [laughs] But you put your nose in the corner and you'd have to sit there till your parents-- and 10 minutes seem like 10 hours. That's your parents' version of Camp J. That's their way of putting you solitary, by yourself, where all you have to do is focus on your nose in the corner. Well, that's what Camp J is, but obviously on a much higher level.
Woody: They're locked up 23 out of 24 hours a day. Most of the time, I would submit to you, they're locked up longer. They didn't get that hour out. Back in the day, they only gave them like one phone call a month. But if you got your hour out, it was for a shower and just sweep out your cell real quick because they weren't letting trustees in your cell. These are bad motherfuckers. And you get out. Now, I remember being a boy and going to Angola on a school tour, and they took us to Camp J. Outside the front of the camp, they had the exercise yards. Now it's not open yards, these were fenced in, wired-in yards, probably--
Jim: Dog pens, basically. 
Woody: -were basically, yeah. I was going to say like 15 yards around. I remember going up and there was this convict, and he was shackled, but he only had one arm. He was shackled with his one arm and shackled to his feet and he's running that circle. But guess what? They called him Wingding. We've got an episode of Wingding. Wingding was trying to escape and they shot him at the gate and blew his arm off and they killed the other guy during the escape. We'll tell that story--[crosstalk] 
Jim: Yes.
Woody: But Wingding was running around in circles and it's a bunch of impressionable kids and he's like, "Fuck you, you motherfuckers. Y'all coming in here and stare at us like fishing a bowl? You fucking motherfuckers, I'll kill all of you." What're they going to do to him? 
Jim: Yeah.
Woody: He's already--[crosstalk] 
Jim: He's already in Camp J.
Woody: [crosstalk] -like 15 fucking years. He ain't getting out. He was going to speak his mind. But when Camp J opened, it was a brand-new facility and top notch. But guess what? They didn't put a lot of money in Camp J. It would become known as the worst cell blocks in the United States of America, and probably in the world.
Jim: You've heard of us talk about this before, but budgets are always an issue with prisons no matter where you are in the country. Angola is no exception to that because obviously, us as free people, the last thing you want to do is have to pay for prisoners. Now, it's a necessary evil. It's just like insurance. You've got to have it just because if we didn't pay for these prisons, you'd have everybody roaming free, and that would obviously be a problem. But Camp J, when it opened, it was brand new. Well, as budgetary things came through every year, they would cut the budget for Angola. So, what do they start looking at? "Well, we got to cut staff. We've got to cut we don't need to fix that air conditioner that broke," although Camp J didn't even have that. Whatever it may be, they cut where they had to, and Camp J got cut a lot more [crosstalk] parts.
Woody: Camp J got [crosstalk] cut more than anything else.  
Jim: Sure.
Woody: Because nobody gave a shit.
Jim: Nobody gave-- yeah. It's CCR, right? 
Woody: Now, think about it, y'all. If you had 6000 inmates or 5800, however many it was, you've got that certain percentage. Now, it's all rapists and murderers and armed robbers and just the worst of the worst, but most of them are doing their time, not letting their time do them but you have a real, real big factor on Camp J. I mean, that certain percentage of that population that's in Angola, they're in there for not obeying the laws, for murder and rape and everything else but a certain percentage, when they get there, they're going to continue to act out. It's the only thing they know. I'm going to tell you right now, a huge percentage of them have severe mental issues. I'm telling you like cray, cray motherfuckers. But you know what? The state, especially back in the day, they only have one doctor come in from Baton Rouge, whatever, these guys didn't get the treatment, especially the mental stuff that they needed. 
So, the cells are so small, y'all. It's a single-man cell. It has a shitter, a little metal iron desk, and basically about it. I think it's like five steps down, five steps back. You probably can reach your arms out and touch both walls.
Jim: It's a closet.
Woody: You don't have any direct visual contact with anyone else. It's just the place t

In this Bloody Angola Podcast "Historic Prisoners with Jim" Sally Port. Jim Chapman discusses the imprisonment of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. of over 29 Times and performs his rendition of the historical landmark letter entitled "A letter from a Birmingham Jail" by Dr. King on this Martin Luther King day 2023#drmartinlutherkingday

Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Privacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

The last meals of convicts, what would you choose if you were facing execution?Woody Overton and Jim Chapman bring you another episode of Bloody Angola: A Prison Podcast by Woody Overton and Jim Chapman where the topic is some of the most infamous of those executed and what they choose to eat just before they ride the lightning or get the needle!#deathrow #podcast #applepodcast #spotify #lastmeals #podcastsBloody Angola is produced by Envision Podcast StudiosWebsitewww.bloodyangolapodcast.comFULL TRANSCRIPTBloody Angola:A Podcast by Woody Overton and Jim Chapman (LAST MEALS)
Jim: Hey, everyone, and welcome back to another edition of Bloody-
Woody: -Angola.
Jim: A podcast 142 years in the making.
Woody: The complete story of America's Bloodiest Prison.
Jim: I'm Jim Chapman.
Woody: I'm Woody Overton.
Jim: And last meals, Woody Overton, are on our mind today.
Woody: I've always just been totally fascinated by the condemned and what they ask for their last meals. 
Jim: That's a big decision. I mean, people don't really think about it, but this is the last meal you'll ever eat and I'm sure these death row inmates, like all of us-- people ask y'all the time, "What is your favorite food?" And sometimes people can't decide on that.
Woody: I know Angola, back in my time, during corrections, they actually had an inmate that all he did was prepare the last meals for the condemned.
Jim: Yeah. And I'm sure considered it like quite an honor.
Woody: I think they even did a cookbook of it. I'm going to have to look that up. We have to do an episode on that cookbook.
Jim: We might have to do a cookbook.
[laughter] 
Jim: The Bloody Angola-- look, and I guarantee you some people going to message us down and say, "I'm a buyer, I want a cookbook."
Woody: We told y'all it would always be different. Today, we're not going to talk about Angola, we're going to talk about some really fascinating last meals from across the country.
Jim: Yeah. And last meals of death row inmates, they've been around a long time. Actually, they date back to the 20s in the United States, but in the UK, Europe, they were prevalent even in the 1800s.
Woody: Yeah, but they were killing a lot more people back then.
Jim: [laughs]
Woody: "Off with your head," and shit.
Jim: Yeah. I don't know how many people actually got to this side.
Woody: I think the [crosstalk] the public executions in England [unintelligible [00:03:20] were used until the early 20th century.
Jim: Yeah, it wouldn't surprise me. And last meals of any sort-- and we're going to stick to the United States here, especially in the United States, when they were first invented or became in vogue or whatever, they were looked at as an act of mercy on the prisoners, kind of humanize them in the eyes of the general public.
Woody: "We'll feed you before we kill you."
Jim: Yeah. "He likes pizza and I like pizza. We got something in common," that kind of thing, I'm sure. It has become in vogue since the 20s. Usually, there's a certain time period in which these inmates have, it's not necessarily their last meal, it might be two days earlier that they get that special meal.
Woody: Yeah. In Louisiana, it is on the day of execution, but it varies by state to state.
Jim: Is every inmate entitled to a last meal?
Woody: No, they're not. Like I said, it varies state to state, including some states, you don't get your request for a last meal.
Jim: No last meal at all. You just eat whatever they got. 
Woody: Texas was the first state to introduce last meals to death throw inmates in 1924. It was quickly shared among other states. And after death row inmates, Lawrence R. Brewer's extravagant large and expensive last meal that he did not eat. Texas said, "We're not doing this shit anymore," but this dude didn't even eat, like, his last FU to the state of Texas. "You spent that money on me, and I'm not even going to eat it."
Jim: In Arizona, state procedures on executions state that an inmate can request the last meal by completing a form 14 days before their execution. So, they can't wait till the last minute. They got to give them at least two weeks' notice just like when you're hired and fired from a job or whatever. 
Woody: I can see that wouldn't be unreasonable to think that if you've been on death row probably for 20 years, you probably already know what you want probably way ahead of time. We're the state, right? We got red tape. Give us a form to sign.
Jim: That's right. Florida, just another reason for me to like Florida, other than the sunshine and the sand and all that sort of thing, Florida believes in local, and so when you have a last meal, it's got to be local.
Woody: And it's a $40 budget. Hey, it could be local, but you better not order a grass fed.
Jim: If you order a T-bone, you ain't getting a potato.
Woody: Yeah. $40.
Jim: So, that's interesting. Now in Louisiana, right here at home, the warden will join you.
Woody: Yes. Burl Kane was very instrumental in that, and I think he tried to show compassions to the inmates and that the state is really not their enemy. We're going to sit down. Actually, Warden Kane would eat the meals with him. Whatever they're eating, he would sit down and break bread with them right before he killed him.
[laughter]
Jim: Seems kind of bizarre, doesn't it? I'll tell you what, it's a show of respect, I think, more than anything else. Warden Kane actually started that program at Angola, and it continues today.
Woody: Remember, the Department of Corrections' job is not to punish the inmates, don't beat them every day for the murders they committed or whatever. You're simply to house them and stop them from escaping and hurting other people. So, even though you're going to kill them in a couple of hours, you can sit down and with their family members, usually, and break bread with them.
Jim: Yeah, right. If you thought $40 was wow, how can I make that stretch? I know what y'all are doing right now. You're sitting there and you're thinking, "For $40, could I get my favorite last meal?" Well, guess what? Be glad you don't live in Oklahoma, if you're not an Oklahoma listener right now, because in Oklahoma, you only get $25.
Woody: They say that a reasonable effort shall be made to accommodate the request, but the budget shall not be exceeded. [crosstalk] 
Jim: You can't get a Happy Meal for $25. 
Woody: Right. But in Maryland, they don't even offer a final meal selection. They say the death row inmate will eat the same as any other inmate in the prison.
Jim: That's right. States that maybe don't have the amount, I think of Vermont right off the top of my head, don't have the amount of executions. They'll let you go a little bit more crazy. They'll give you more personal choices of meal and things like that. That's just because their budget, it allows for that. They don't put a whole lot of people to death. Maybe they're just a small state, like a Vermont.
Woody: Right. Well, it's typically assumed that inmates sentenced to death can ask for anything they want for the last meal. It does, like we told y'all vary from state to state. Some states have budgets, and some have rules on locations of where the meals can come from, like Florida being local but some states don't allow last meals at all. 
Jim: Yeah. Not only that, this is going to surprise y'all, no state allows cigarettes.
Woody: That's crazy. Back in the day, cigarettes were everything in the prison. According to the Department of Corrections, no states allow cigarettes. Under an order by former Texas Governor George W. Bush, who would become the president later on, cigarettes were banned for health reasons.
[laughter]
[crosstalk]
Woody: We won't let you have that last cigarette before we let you ride Ol' Sparky, right? 
Jim: That's actually pretty good. Now, in 1997, there was an inmate by the name of Larry Wayne White. He requested a meal of liver fried onions, tomatoes, cottage cheese, and a cigarette. He got everything but his final smoke. How about that? I don't know if I'm picking liver as my last meal number one.
Woody: [crosstalk] -cottage cheese, livers, fried onions, maybe. Yeah, I probably like to have that cigarette but he didn't get it. 
Jim: Now, you may wonder, well, they can't smoke, but can they drink? Actually, alcohol is not allowed.
Woody: But it's frequently requested. In the earlier years, alcohol was allowed, and it sometimes still is, but it depends on who it is and where it's being requested.
Jim: Now, they've even had inmates, and I could see some out there doing it. They have actually requested Dom Pérignon. 
Woody: Dom Pérignon. 
Jim: One death row inmate actually requested but they denied him.
Woody: Denied. 
Jim: [crosstalk] 
Woody: He didn’t even get a pink champagne either.
Jim: MD 20/20, baby. [chuckles] 
Woody: But unorthodox or unavailable requests are replaced with similar substitutes, and it was not unusual for an inmate's final choices to reveal something about them.
Jim: That's what I find so interesting about this, and we're going to get into specific inmates and what they requested, and it does. It kind of reveals something about the inmate that you may pick up on by what they request for the last meal. Now, some decline a last meal in order to basically demonstrate contempt for the prison authorities. "I'm not going to give you the pleasure of giving me a last meal," or they're just so dadgum scared of going to the electric chair or getting a dose of the good ol' shot that they are unable to eat. Stomach's just in knots. They're not hungry. They're about to get the chair or get the needle, one of the two. 
Woody: They might have a little upset tummy from

Scott Huffman who spent over 5 years in a Louisiana prison joins Woody Overton and Jim Chapman to discuss what landed him in prison, life inside of prison and how learning sign language completely changed his life upon his release!Bloody Angola Sally Port are podcast companions to the Bloody Angola series and are released 2 times weekly!

Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands

Privacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy