Justice for Jackie  

Justice for Jackie

For three decades I have lived among a multitude of “fallen” men while serving time.  To me, most are unremarkable men who let the weight of their daily existence overwhelm and wear them down.  This is a micro explanation of how men enter prison.  The details of their crimes are a myriad of stories too incongruous to explain, but occasionally there are exceptions and the tragedy of the Wilson brothers fit that criteria.

In 1990, I was assigned to the South Lowers, a cell house in the Pontiac Maximum  Security Prison located in Central Illinois.  The stories about Pontiac housing the most dangerous criminals in the state were widely shared but none more renown than Andrew Wilson.  I was in high school when the Wilson brothers were accused of going on a crime spree that ended with the death of two Chicago Police Officers.  Men gossiped about the notorious Wilson brothers throughout prisons and jails throughout prisons and jails in Illinois. I thought about those conversations as walked into that cell house.  Young street guys and rappers of this era bragged about being a “shooter” and make it out to be a title of respect.  Well, it is possible Andrew could have been the man who inspired that moniker from the way hardened criminals talked about him.

I was assigned to 3 Gallery cell number 4, a few cells away from Andrew Wilson when I saw him for the first time.  I could not reconcile what I heard to the person I saw.  Here was a small neatly dressed fellow who was a rather fancy dresser wearing a pink tam.  Andrew was sitting in the doorway of his cell knitting a scarf.  It was surreal!

Over time I got to know him a a very soft spoken, intelligent, affable and generous.  Andrew gave the items he knitted to other prisoners to give as gifts to their families.  When he was not knitting, he was at his work assignment cleaning the prison chapel.     Andrew also bucked another prison norm; he was eager to talk about his case and shared his experience of being tortured.  One afternoon Andrew told me about his brother Jackie.  He said he really regretted knowing that because of him, his little brother was tortured into making a false confession.  Despite being a solitary guy, we sometimes had extensive conversations about the criminal justice system.  I learned so much by listening to his stories and this was before the whole John Burgess torture scandal was revealed.  My last memory of Andrew was of him sitting in his cell knitting.

I served 4 years in Pontiac before being transferred to Statesville Maximum Security Prison in Joliet Illinois.  When I arrived at Statesville, I did what was customary and I sought out Jackie Wilson.  Many prisoners have family and friends scattered throughout the system, so we depend on each other to keep us connected.  I wanted to let Jackie know I connected with Andrew so I could share what he was up to and how he was doing.  It didn’t take long to locate Jackie, even in one of the state’s largest prisons because everyone knew him.  I wasn’t surprised by his physical appearance because he clearly resembled his brother, however that was where the similarities ended.  Jackie is as outgoing as Andrew was reserved and he is a very animated fellow seemingly always on the move.  Jackie has a big smile, a smile that was much too big for prison life.  Knowing what I knew about Jackie, I marveled at his upbeat attitude.

I told Jackie about my conversations with Andrew and some information he shared with me.  I let him know that I could relate to what he was going through.  He seriously looked at me and nodded, but it was clearly evident he didn’t believe that.  Jackie quickly changed the subject.  That is a typical reaction when prisoners talk to one another about serious things.  It was that moment when I noticed something.  Although I wasn’t fully able to discern what I saw, after spending time with him I clearly saw what it was.  I saw deep and profound pains.  For a man like Jackie who did his time being upbeat and smiling, it had to be hard to let others see his pain.  I believe I was able to see his pain because I expected it and when I met him, I was looking for it. That was another difference between the Wilson brothers, Andrew couldn’t conceal his remorse and he wore it like a shroud.

Jackie loved to talk about real estate. He read everything he could get his hands on about it.  His big dream was to be a real estate tycoon.  If you let him, he would talk your ears off about this topic.  Sometimes when we talked, I would try to engage him in a conversation about his case.  I looked and listened beyond the words and through the smiles.  I searched for that deep emotion I previously saw.  I knew he was tortured here in America, tortured by the agents of our nation’s justice system.  Torture is supposed to be unethical and not accepted by American values, but our justice system is a lie.  I knew it and I now see it clearly in this man’s eyes. I began to believe what I witnessed from Jackie was actually more intense than pain. I saw obscured

behind Jackie’s smiles and dreams that he was enduring internal damage from his torture.  He tried concealing it but it was always lurking, clinging to him like a haunting.

I became a barber while in Statesville and Jackie regularly came for haircuts.  Although we never talked about it, I believe he knew I saw the real Jackie, a man deeply hurt, and he was hurt down to his core.  I am sure I wasn’t the only person to see this, but prisoners don’t open up to each other to share our feelings of pain or sorrow.  Neither do we discuss remorse or the protective barriers we erect inside our minds and our hearts.  It’s as if the prison walls aren’t enough because we also erect our own emotional walls that are just as high, thick, barbed and twisted like the walls we live within.  These barriers make it more difficult to find redemption or recess for our wrongs.

I wrote this because I just saw a newspaper article about Jackie Wilson being freed.  His conviction was finally overturned.  Although he was released in 2018, our justice system tried to convict him again.  They were still trying to torture Jackie, but Jackie is finally free!

Andrew died in prison many years ago.  Before he died, in a deathbed confession, he admitted his guilt for a death that helped another wrongfully convicted man be released.

Newspapers can’t tell these prisons storied with the insight that we can and this story needs to be told.  I also wrote this story to find some peace of mind and to give readers a personal view into what is wrong with this system.

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