Content area
Full Text
In February 2016, on his 69th birthday, Albert Woodfox was freed from prison after he had spent more than 40 years in solitary confinement.
I met Mr. Woodfox in 2006 when I served as his legal case's medical expert. He was the last incarcerated member of the "Angola 3," three Black prisoners confined to solitary for decades. In 1972, he was convicted of the killing of a White prison guard, a crime for which he steadfastly claims innocence. His release followed two overturned convictions (one for inadequate representation and one for racial discrimination).
When I toured the isolation unit, men languished listlessly on their cell's concrete floor. Metal fans clanged loudly, circulating hot air, while men tried to communicate by yelling and banging out messages against their cell fronts' steel bars.
While waiting to meet Mr. Woodfox, I was more nervous than I had been since medical school, maybe ever. How should I talk with someone who had been isolated for decades? What should I ask as one of few people he would be close to in years, as one of even fewer who would touch him not to shackle him but to evaluate his medical needs?
I watched him shuffle down the hall toward me with an officer. He looked much older than his 59 years. His wrist and ankle shackles startled me. As a geriatrician, I know fall-related injuries are a leading cause of death among older adults1; surely shackles increase this risk exponentially. He sat down slowly to keep his balance. I leaned forward attempting to shake his hand, which was awkwardly shackled to his side. He looked at me and offered a wary smile.
"How are you holding up?" I asked. What was I expecting? Rage? Tears?
"I don't know," he said, in a voice so quiet that I had to strain to hear. "I guess I am hopeful."
It did not seem that he had much to be hopeful for. He had been in solitary confinement since 1972, almost every day of my entire life. His daily routine included at least 23 hours in a six-foot by nine-foot cell with little or no human contact punctuated by-at most-an hour's "exercise" in a small outdoor cage three times weekly, alone.