The craziest thing happened to me on Thursday. As God as my witness, this is exactly how it went down. At around 11:30 a.m. I was working on a water main break that happened over the weekend, nearly shutting down and evacuating the prison. I’m in the Maintenance Shop, the phone rings, and my officer answers it. He says a few words into the phone as he looks at me smiling. After he hangs up, he walks to the desk where I am eating lunch and says, “I don’t know what exactly is going on Steve, but that was the Administrator and the Center Lieutenant. Go back to your unit and get your things together. You are going home today! I think the clemency you applied for might’ve came through. I double checked, and they are saying it is definitely you. They have your release paperwork with your photo on it and your SBI#. You are walking out the door at 1:00 p.m. today.“
No sooner had he told me, I felt the blood leave my face. A Sergeant I’ve worked with almost everyday over the last eight years and a few other officers came into the shop, one saying, “Holy shit, Steve, we just heard. You are going home, dude!”
At this point, I was in utter shock, tearing up and shaking a bit. Inmates were hugging me, cops were openly shaking my hand, and I was walking back to my unit to get my things before heading to intake for release. It is a huge no-no for officers to shake hands with inmates, it does not happen, and I had sergeants, lieutenants, civilian staff and about 25 officers shake my hand, saying things like, “If anybody deserves to get out early, it’s you Steve.” “You’ve kept this shit hole open with all the work you’ve done.”
I was beside myself with emotion. When I got to my unit, the officers were blown away, having gotten calls that I was getting released. They double checked and were told, “It’s him, stop calling here, tell him to get to intake with his shit.”
I asked if I could make a phone call to tell somebody I was getting out. “Absolutely, get on the phone and call.” I called my friend Alan, and he was overwhelmed with happiness and emotion. I told him I needed a ride. I tried to call my sister Linda, and she didn’t answer. I tried to call my friend Ammie, and she didn’t answer. I have nobody else to call, and as I’m on the phone, I realize how alone I am in this world.
It was getting close to 1:00 p.m. and my time to walk out the door when the phone rang in my unit. My officer looked over at me, and I heard him say, “I’m NOT telling him that, you better send somebody here to tell him that, I’m not.” And a few minutes later I was told it was all a huge mistake made in Classification. There was a guy with the same last name as me. His name was David Goff, and he was getting released. How my SBI# and face sheet photo ended up on all his release paperwork was a sincere, unintentional, massive f#$@-up.
People were amazed how calm I remained, more upset than I was. The Administration and some officers were screaming at the people who made the mistake. I heard things like, “I just told this guy he was going home, and now I’m supposed to tell him …oops my bad.” I had people in suits apologizing to me all day long.
Inmates have been getting clemency releases by the dozens. The closer Governor Murphy gets to the end of his term, the more frequent they are happening. He needs bed space within the prisons and he doesn’t have it. I thought it was my day, that my lottery ticket had come in.
I came within minutes of walking out the door, and if I had, multiple people would’ve lost their jobs. I felt so bad for the lady who made the mistake. They told me she was so upset for putting me through that, she took off work the next day. I don’t want her to be upset over me. I’m fine. Can you imagine if I had walked out of here, and the next day a SWAT team showed up? They would’ve come in heavy to take me back, all because of a clerical error.
That Thursday was the most emotional rollercoaster I’ve been on since the day I walked into that police station and confessed to a twenty-three-year-old unsolved murder. I was shaking for hours afterwards, went to bed that night at 7:30 p.m. and slept till 6:00 a.m. I was out cold… didn’t even get up to pee in the middle of the night. The thing I thought about before I fell asleep was not how sad and disappointed I was about not going home or being angry about the colossal mistake. I thought about how alone I felt making the calls to tell somebody – anybody – I was coming home. I need to get some more people in my life – that was my final thought before falling asleep. That day had the possibility of being the most monumental day of the rest of my life, and I had hardly anybody to share my joy with.
ABOUT THE WRITER. Steven Goff is a first time WITS contributor. Steven takes solace in writing, which is one of the many reasons why WITS exists. The writer is also a self-described veracious reader, interested in learning and also allowing his mind to travel outside of the prison walls. Mr. Goff can be contacted at:
Steve Goff #640012B
Bayside State Prison – 1403
P.O. Box 96777
Las Vegas, NV 89193
