When my phone rang on August 23, 2005, at 11:58 a.m., my caller ID showed "High Desert State Prison" was the caller. I was thrilled because I thought it was Jay calling - it was not. It was the prison doctor calling to tell me that my husband had passed away. A few hours later someone else from prison administration called to tell me to expect a telegram and informed me that it was mandatory that Jay be cremated and the state would make those arrangements if I could not afford it. I informed them that I would take care of my husband.

…From the time Jay entered the prison system, we were left in the dark concerning rights, both for Jay and our family, what to expect and when to expect it and who to turn to for answers. I realize that while prison is a way of life for some families, it is certainly not for all. I have witnessed firsthand the suffering of the families and children of the inmates. Children being shouted at by the guards for playing on the grass while waiting in line for hours to see their loved one with no other area for them to wait. Calling repeatedly (during the two hour window) just to try to set an appointment for a visitation in San Quentin. …Mail never seemed to be delivered to Jay unless sent Priority Mail and then it took seven or more days. The heartbreak I felt and still feel when I read and re-read the letters from Jay asking why I hadn't written when I had written him every day and mailed the letters every day will never stop.

Excerpted from a written statement submitted to the Commission