Vic Chopra (0:00)

This program contains mature language and themes that may not be suitable for all listeners. Discretion is advised. This is an open public meeting subject to the state's Public Records Act. We take testimony from all interested parties. The board considers what is or are extraordinary to warrant recommendations to the governor to grant your request. Let me quickly go through the factors that we consider. First of all, the severity of the crime, the impact on the victims. Whether there's documented need for clemency, acceptance of responsibility, remorse and atonement, personal development and life change. The offender's criminal history and other relevant background. Whether all obligations have been met, the amount of time lapsed, risk or benefit to the community. The support outside job, housing, resource. Most important, the petitioner should clearly state, be sincere as to the reason for your petition. We as board members take our responsibility very seriously and we try to be objective, fair and just. The first case to be heard is a clemency petition of Anthony Koban. This is Vic Chopra reporting live for Concrete Mama News. I'm standing just outside the courthouse where the clemency hearing for Anthony Covert is about to take place. There are several members of the community here to testify on his behalf, as well as Anthony himself. The mood here is tense, but there is definitely an overwhelming sense of hope and redemption as a result of this hearing could bear life changing results for the young Mr. Covert. Now you might be asking yourself, what is clemency? Unlike many other states in Washington there isn't a parole system. This means that once you're sentenced, you generally serve the full term of that sentence. The only option to get out early is earn good time, which can range from 10 to 33% off of a sentence. But this isn't offered to everyone. The only other option to be considered for early release is clemency. Clemency is an official act of mercy granted by the governor, who can offer a commutation or a reduction of the sentence or a full pardon which wipes the conviction entirely. Oh, I hear Anthony's attorneys have approached the microphone and are ready to begin. Let's send it back inside the courtroom. We will begin with council. Good morning, Madam Chair and members of the board. This morning, Anthony will be represented by apprentice Mackie Mosley. I know that we were still submitting a few things in this last week as many people were coming forward to support Anthony's commutation. We are hopeful that you will see Anthony as we see him, ready to join our community. Hello, my name is Prentice Mackey Mosley. I would also like to thank the board for hearing Our petition today as we ask for the commutation of Anthony Robert Covert's sentence. Today, I'm going to tell you just a little bit about Anthony and why we are here, as well as how Anthony has taken accountability for his crime and the serious harm that he has caused. I am a ward of the state. I was a ward of the state at 2 years old. I was born to a Gene Brown. We're from Yakima, Washington. A lot of my family migrated up here from Jonesboro, Louisiana, Colfax, Shreveport. They found residence here in the state of Washington, the Evergreen state, we like to call it, and found ourselves in a small town called Yakima, or Yakima, if you ask the natives. We're the central hub of the state of Washington. Everything comes through, everything comes out. You'll find all types of people. I learned growing up that it was taught that it was the palm springs of Washington. But we ain't got a single palm string in the all Yakima. We got apple trees. So we're calling apple trees Palm Springs. And that's what it is. You know, I'll take that. But, you know, growing up, it was difficult for my family. You know, my mom was one of the people that fell victim to the drug epidemic. The state deemed my mother unfit to raise me. And so I got thrust into a system called foster care, being put in multiple homes, multiple families, at one point being deemed unadoptable. It was a struggle, man, trying to figure out who was going to love me enough to keep me. Love me enough to keep me. That's a crazy thing to think about as a kid, as a child, you know, being put from home to home, and you're like a pair of shoes, people trying you on to see if you fit right. And unfortunately, not everybody gets to ever find the right foot. Sometimes, you know, people just shove their foot inside and we just don't fit right. Sometimes people just throw us to the side because they felt like we weren't good enough or nice enough or we just didn't match whatever it is that they was trying to put together. And so one of the things that I learned, man, is that love comes from the most unexpected places, man. I remember a story that my adoptive mom told me, Sherry Covert. She was like, when I first seen you, for whatever reason, you ran straight up to me, and you was like, can I go home with you? And you told me, yeah. In that moment, I felt like I found my perfect foot. This shoe fit somewhere. But unfortunately, other people didn't think that this shoe fit somewhere. You know, a lot of my father's family looked at him a little different. A lot of my mother's family looked at her a little different. I learned what real prejudice means. You know, this was in the 90s. I thought we made it past Jim Crow laws. I thought we made it past that stage. But you know, prejudice is real, man. People with these ideologies that think that it's okay to hate somebody just because of what they look like really exists. Being an all white family attempting to foster a black child and then graduating from fostering a black child to wanting to adopt a black child. You know, in the state of Washington, it wasn't a thing to have interracial adoptions because people felt culturally they were too different. But I feel that love is the same in all languages, in all cultures, and all prospects of life. And that's what my mom believed. And so she, despite all of that, she fought to keep me. She went so far as having the law changed where interracial adoption was a thing where it didn't matter what color you were as long as there was love in the home. And that's what, what she showed me was love. And you know, as a kid, I've been waiting for my opportunity to be accepted. It's confusing as a child, be told that hey, you're going to live here, this is your family for now, and then be pulled away and put into another family and say, oh no, actually this is going to be your family. And then pulled away and say, no, actually this is going to be your family. That's a very, very dangerous roller coaster ride, man. And I still suffer the effects of that today in my life as a 33 year old man. The effects of not knowing if I'm ever going to be accepted, the byproduct of my childhood, corrupted my mindset as a man. But I learned some things over these years, you know, but my parents persevered through all that and I couldn't be more happy than to be adopted by a family that showed me such love. You know, I had the blessing of being able to be in a family that had so much to give but had so little to gain for putting me in their family. So I tried to think, how can I pay them back? What could I do right? So I tried to do right growing up as a kid, but there were some things that I struggled with. I'm both black and Hispanic, being raised by an all white family. Now tell me how confusing that can be for a 7, 8, 9, 10, year old. When kids are getting dropped off and their parents look the same color as them, or when you see people getting picked up and they're wondering, why is this? And they're looking at you crazy. No one else looks at anybody else crazy. But you're being looked at crazy because your parents are white. You have a little brother that goes around telling people that your brother is black, and no one believes him because they're saying it can't be possible. Why are kids having these conversations? You know, My name was Santos before it was Anthony. I used to get in so many fights at school just because kids would make fun of my name, Santoast or Sandy or all these other things, and I'd get in so many fights. So to a point, my mom was like, we're having enough of that. I'm changing your name, right? At first, I didn't want my name to be changed, even as a kid, because I felt like I was losing a piece of who I was. But I wasn't really losing losing anything. The name change didn't define who I was. I defined who I was. Santos, Anthony, they're the same person. But I allowed for things like that to corrupt my mind, you know, As I got older, started getting into middle school, I started becoming a little more popular. Not because of who I was, but because the color of my skin. Not many people hang out with black people. You know, they wanted the token around. And I started recognizing that that's what I was to a lot of my friends was just the token people. Like, hey, the black kids coming over, hey, we're gonna go kick it with the black kid. You know, it was like a badge of honor to be able to know that you had a black friend. Now you can tell people that you're not racist because I got a black friend. Nada doesn't change people's mindsets, man. It just gives you a token, something to parade around. And I knew that at a young age. And so because of that, I sought out other things, and I ended up seeking out people that looked like me. But unfortunately, growing up in Yakima, a lot of people that looked like me weren't involved with some of the best things. But at the time, I didn't care because I just wanted more of an acceptance. That struggle for acceptance was hard, but I made it known to the people that I was around that I'm here to stay. Good morning. My name is Kelly Cortez. Kelly K E L Y Cortez. C O R T E S Anthony leaves an indelible mark on every person he interacts with. This is evident by over the 45 letters of support he has received and from the many individuals he has touched and who wanted to appear before you today. Anthony is more than ready to be reintegrated into society. This is apparent to us based on our interactions with him and the passion he has shown us about accomplishing his goals. He constantly expressed his gratitude for our work. But on the other hand, we are the ones who are thankful and inspired by him. When I talk to Anthony and work on his case, I can for a moment escape my reality as a law student. And that's simply because of Anthony's positivity, compassion, and unwavering optimism in the face of adversity. Tazi, would you have Mr. Covid as your neighbor upon release? Thank you so much for that question. I would love to have Anthony forward as my neighbor. He is such an extraordinary human being. He is so kind, and I'm so inspired. Like, I would enjoy, you know, being in my apartment more often, you know, because that's the type of person Anthony is. He's just so compassionate. He's always looking out. And I would honestly feel less scared. I live alone, and if I would have Anthony as a neighbor, I would feel more protective and more secure. Thank you. I was able to re link back up with my biological family when I was 13. I got to know them. I got to figure out who I was before who I was told I was. One of the struggles that I had was now balancing two families. You know, my biological family. I'm thinking in my mind, if you guys love me so much, why didn't you fight harder to keep me and my adoptive family? If you guys love me so much, why am I enduring the things that I'm enduring? I can't go to my mom and explain to her what it feels like to be a black man. She can understand, but she can never really know. And that's not her fault. And I don't blame her for that. You know, I go to my black side of my family and I try to figure out, you know what I'm saying, who am I? You know, and they would explain this and that and that our family came from here and this is who we are. But I'm like, well, I'm also Hispanic, and I would seek my Hispanic side out. And that was a different experience because, you know, in Yakima, Hispanics and blacks really didn't get along for a long time. And that's a struggle because I'm from both places. I used to say, I'm from the best of both worlds. You know, that was one of my favorite taglines because I felt like I had two rich cultures that I was a part of. But now I say I'm the best of three worlds because the family that raised me also has a rich culture. I had an opportunity to really learn, but instead, I was blindsided by all the things, things that the world told me I needed to focus on. I needed to focus on the fact that I was black, Hispanic, that I was different, that I wasn't going to be able to do this or that because of the color of my skin, that there was going to be barriers and walls and all these things that I wasn't going to be able to do because I was black. And I was told to just be cool with the bottom. And so I was cool with the bottom. I got involved with the street life. I felt like getting into the street life was going to give me a way to get out of the bottom. But in fact, I just found myself digging a bigger pit. You know, I thought the gangs was the way to go. You know, I got involved with the Crips and decided that, you know, this is my new family. These are the people that are going to accept me. And, man, did they show me a lot of love. There was a lot of people that showed me a lot of love in there, but that love came with conditions. You know, there was things that were expected of you to receive this love. And so I decided that I needed to do those things to maintain that love and that respect. Growing up, I'm trying to figure out, who am I? What do I have to offer? Do I offer knowing how to rob somebody, shoot at somebody, sell some drugs, harm my community? All these things that you were given praise for. But now as an adult, I see as why would anybody want to praise harming people? I've watched pregnant women shoot up heroin and got to thinking, like, why? Why would you want to risk your baby? Because the high is more important. You know, I've watched people od and sit there and think, like, why would you want to do something that could potentially kill you? And at the same time, there I am doing the same stuff, thinking, it's okay because I don't do it as much. So this path that I decided to embark on, man, led me down a very dangerous road. I ended up in multiple boys homes, group homes, different facilities, juvenile centers. My parents did everything they could to try to give me the help that I needed. But the Help that I needed wasn't going to come from no facility, wasn't going to come from somebody telling me if you tuck your shirt in or if you wash your face, or if you get up in the morning and you go running, or all these different things that are put into these systems to be able to correct a behavior, those could be all conduits to help me, push me into the thing. But it didn't happen until I figured it out for myself. I finally turned 18, aged out of the system. Now I was able to just go out into the world and make my own decisions. I got into the Spokane Community College where I got into the culinary arts program, was super excited because I love to cook, love to eat. Now I can be able to create dishes myself, create things the way I want to create them. But the thing about doing good or trying to do something different is you can't toe the line with all the negative things that come with your life as well. You see, I was towing the fence, I was jumping back and forth between, oh, am I going to be in the streets or am I going to do the school thing? Am I going to be a person someone can aspire to, or am I going to be someone that's going to destroy someone else's life? It wasn't easy, man, to make that decision. And so I decided to make that decision on my own on November 7th of 2008. Council, your witnesses. So we have Aleda Tipton as our first witness. The provost at Whitman College. Thank you. I really appreciate the opportunity to address you today. So my name is Alzada Tipton. I'm very pleased to be able to speak about Anthony Covert. It was clear to me from the first time that I met him that Anthony is extraordinary. His positivity, his goodwill towards others, his empathy, his intelligence, his intellectual curiosity and his open mindedness really struck me. But it wasn't until I had talked to him about his crime that I realized that this Anthony, whom I knew was a new Anthony, built on growth away from an old Anthony. So all of his goals when he gets out are about helping others. It's clear when you talk to him that that's what his main priority is. It's also equally clear to me after having talked to him about his crime against Shane and Joey, he wants to make up for that crime. While he can't help them as much as he would like, he wants to be able to help other people. So in some ways I think about it as restoring it forward, that that's what Anthony is doing similarly, he did a presentation at a restorative justice showcase that I attended. And his project was about programs for youth, preventative programs that were meant to keep youth from going down the road that he went down. And it was clear to me talking to him that his main goal was to prevent others from experiencing the harm that Shane and Joey experienced. Ever since I met him, Anthony is the person I think of when I drive by WSP every time. So it's really exciting for me to think that I might contribute to not having to think about him when I drive by that complex. And I would be very happy instead of thinking of him as I drive by to work that instead I might encounter him at my work. There's a thing in here we do, we call it making a spread. We cook food. We put everything in there and sometimes it's just a big old gumbo pot where we just throw everything in there so you really can't tell what exactly is inside of that meal, but you just eat it and sometimes it doesn't come out the best. That's what my life was. It was a big pot of mess where I just smashed a bunch of things together and decided this is what I'm going to be. Instead of taking my time to really define who it is that I am and who it is that I'm becoming, you know, it's a very confusing time. You know, I decided that my loyalty to an individual was beyond the care for my well being. So I found out this person was going to have an altercation. I decided to. I decided to get involved Strictly off the idea that it was my job to. It was my job to fix another man's issues. It was my job to fix another man's problems. And so that's what I decided to do. I went down and I ended up shooting two people. One of them was seriously injured, the other one escaped with minor injuries. And the people that I was going down there to protect were the same people that gave me up. Now I understand it. People get scared in situations like that. Anytime there's people's lives at stake, man, that's a very serious thing. But that we had a street code. I thought, you know, I thought when, when it came time to talking to police, we were supposed to just be quiet. But that's where I found out that the faultiness of this street life, right, the faultiness of the loyalty you're supposed to have to individuals and other people. And so one of the biggest things that I learned in that moment right then is that it doesn't matter how loyal people are to you, People can change on you in the midst of time. And so there I was sitting in this county public office and they're telling me, hey, we know who did this, this, that and the other. And they're explaining that it was my friend that did all these things. And I felt it was only right to be like, nah, he had nothing to do with it, to keep him out of trouble. So I took the rap for myself. I'm thinking that it was going to be like anytime in juvenile that my mom was going to be able to come pick me up, that I was going to be able to go back home, that things were going to be all good. I called my mom from the county and she explained to me, anthony, this is a lot different than the juvenile. This is serious. I went back into my cell and I cried because I felt like once again I was abandoned by my family. Not knowing or understanding the severity of what just happened. I cried because I felt like once again I was let down. But not knowing that the biggest person that let me down was my son self. So I went through my court proceedings, was understanding that this is real now, that there's no just walking home, there's no my parents just coming and picking me up, My little brother talking to him on the phone, he was confused, like, bro, why, why would you. Why would you do something like that? Now I can hear the let down in his voice. So the very thing that I despise people doing to me, I ended up doing to him. I did it to my family, the ones that decided to. To adopt me. Against all odds, that fought against all odds, that took the scrutiny, that took the shameness that other people tried to put on them, that took the hate from other people. I ended up letting those very people down. All I did was give other people an opportunity to tell them, I told you so. You see, he was destined for that because he was. I remember my mom telling me someone telling her to let me go and be with my kind. It's real. You know, I put her in a position to be told that. Now let's say I would have graduated Harvard, or let's say I would have did something else. That was the opposite of the choices that I did make. Then what kind of praises would she get? Oh, man, you was really able to take this kid and do something with him. But she's a failure because of my choices. I don't think so. You know, she did everything she could. And that's why I'M the man I am today because of the things that she taught me and the things that my father taught me and my other brothers and family members taught me. Going through the system. I got in here. I got in here angry because I felt abandoned. And so I just started doing all the things that, you know, a young kid would do. I was smoking, drinking, fighting. I was trying to be renowned for this negative person instead of the potential that I had. But what was interesting was this potential that I had. Other people seen it in me before. I seen it in me. Me. I'll never forget the brother shy from Tacoma, man, from the hilltop of Tacoma. He came up to me one day and he's like, brother, man, I see some potential in you. Don't let this place consume you. What you do today is going to affect your tomorrow. And it went through one ear and right out the other as fast as he told me. Because, you know, ignorance is bliss at that age. If we don't have to have accountability, then I'm just going to keep doing what I do because I don't have to answer to nobody. But in reality, I have to answer to. To everybody. I have to answer to myself. I have to answer to my family, as my faith would have me say. I have to answer to God. But at that time, I didn't have faith. I didn't have anything. I just had my idea of what I wanted to do and who I wanted to become. And so I finished doing what I wanted to do. I wanted to completely just wreck my life because I felt like after giving 36 years, I was like, what else do I have to give? Nothing. I just have the chaos that I came with. And so I continuously practiced that chaos. It wasn't until I got the news that my little brother Jonathan had cancer that I started to really realize that my decisions affect other people. You know, for years, I would ask myself, why is it that my little brother is doing this thing and not me? Why does he have to fight through this thing and not me? He would always explain to me how his goal was for me to come home and how he'd want me to be able to make it back to be with the family. But the struggle with that was I didn't know how that was going to happen. All my court stuff was getting shut down. Appeal after appeal was getting shut down. Everything that I put in brief after brief was getting shut down. I'm climbing a rope that leads nowhere. I feel like I'm putting all this work in to get somewhere, and it Leads nowhere. I look up and there's just more rope. And I just keep climbing and climbing and the fatigue kicks in to the point where there were times I just wanted to let go of that rope while I was here. You know, letting go of that rope would be a lot easier. So I contemplated letting go. COUNSEL Our next witness is Stephen Barker, former associate superintendent at wsp. My name is Stephen Barker. I worked for the Department of corrections for 30 years and just recently took a position outside of DOC. I started out as a correctional officer at the penitentiary, but I got into a position where I was correctional program manager and then an associate superintendent and then I worked for DOC headquarters for about a year before I took my current position as a jail commander in Walla Walla County. My interactions with Anthony were. When I was the correctional program manager, I was the person who had to approve the classes that he was developing. I had to approve the curriculum that him and the other group of guys that were doing. There was lots of times when I would take tours into the, his place of work. And Anthony was always like the lead tour guide. He was always very personable with the staff. He was always personable with all of the people who were on the tour. And then I would, I would get asked afterwards, hey, who was that guy? Is he, is he an employee here? Well, no, he's not an employee at the Washington State Penitentiary. He's actually incarcerated. And they, they couldn't tell the difference. He is that, that kind of a guy. He's that personable. Anthony is one of those extraordinary kind of guys that he has the ability to, can really relate to people. He's kind of a leader in the population. I was telling my, my wife earlier today when we told her I was going to testify in this, that although I don't, I don't believe there's any legitimate penal objective to keep him in prison, but having a guy like him in prison actually helps Department of Corrections because he is helping other guys get on the right path. You can tell it's selfless. He will be one of those guys who gets out and is successful. And just listening to what I heard from like, the Whitman College Professor, Anthony Leonard, and I think he will, he'll be fine outside of prison. He is not going to have a problem. I support this conversation, by the way. Thank you. Any questions? Bourne Akazi. I've got a couple of quick questions for you. Have you appeared in these hearings before on behalf of other incarcerated individuals? Now, while I was a DOC employee, I couldn't. DOC would not allow it. But if I look back over time, there's very few of those guys who I would. Anthony is one of those guys who I fully support him getting out of prison. He shouldn't be there anymore. Thank you. You also said there's no legitimate reason to continue to keep him in prison. Can you expand that? Well, yeah, he's been rehabilitated. He has taken it upon himself to better himself every day. You can tell just when you interact with him that he is the kind of guy that's going to get better. He's going to keep working and getting better. He's grown up and he's been in prison for 17 years or something like that. When you look at guys who come in prison, usually when they're 18, 19, 20 years old, they're hard to handle. But when they get into their 30s and later on, they start to realize that they screwed up their wives, and that's when they start to use what the DOC has to offer to make their lives better when they get out. Anthony started that a lot sooner than most. He started getting better almost right away. And I say he figured it out. I mean, he figured out that there. There is hope outside and he was using the assets that DOC offered to make himself better and to help other people, actually. So one of the things that I felt like I needed to be able to do was I needed to look inside myself some more. Because that decision to let go of that rope was tough for me. And before I even knew it, God was already looking out for me. He didn't allow for me to let go. When I thought that I did, my clothes got hung up on there or something. You know, it kept me from falling off that rope, and I regrabbed it. And I was like, you know what? I'm a truck through this. One of the biggest things that I've learned from that, that time of my life was that there's no time to be a coward. There's no time to be a person that just gives up. Because I got to thinking about how my mom and my dad didn't give up on me, how my little brother didn't give up on me. And so who am I to give up on these individuals, right? These individual people that have invested their time and their love and their energy into me. Who am I to be so selfish, to take all that and not care about it? And so I had to endure. I got back on the rope and kept climbing, still not seeing no top, no surface, nothing to. To achieve or to reach. But at that point, it wasn't about achieving or reaching. It was about just climbing and seeing where I go, seeing how high I can make it. And so I kept climbing over the years, over the months. And actually I would call and check up on my little brother to see how his cancer was doing. And there was times where we'd get good news. We'd be elated by the fact that, oh, some of it's going into remission and we're going to be good. But then things changed. So when we got the news that my brother's cancer was turning for the worst, it kind of devastated me. I know we tried everything to help it get better. We was getting like goat milk from Indonesia, different types of remedies, and just to ease the pain. And it seemed like nothing was working. We ended up going on lockdown in the unit that I was in, in the west complex, in Delta unit, due to an altercation that happened. And it was very serious. And so when we get put on lockdown, only so many cells get to come out at a time per tier. And so I had to navigate my little brother's health and well being through that lockdown. And the reality of it is, is that I know that I was going through something then, but I can only imagine how many other men were also going through something at that time. You know, when you're in the situations where you don't have access, you know, now we have where we can call from ourselves from the SecureSt tablet and we can send emails. Well, at this time in 2012, we didn't have that. And so what happened was one day our tier accidentally got let out. It was supposed to be the bottom tier. They messed up the count area and they asked me shower or phone. You know, I had 10 minutes to do one or the other. And so I chose phone. I wanted to run down. I wanted to talk to my little brother, give him some encouragement, give him some words of love and some empowering things, like I do every time I get on the phone. But this time it was so different. This time I got on the phone and my mom told me that he's fading away and that I had time to be able to tell him what I needed to tell him before he was gone, that he could hear me at least. Imagine having 10 minutes to explain somebody that you loved your whole life, what they mean to you. 10 minutes to tell that person that you mean the world to them. 10 minutes to tell that person that you wish that you could do anything, that you can trade places with Them that you're sorry that you weren't a better bigger brother, that you failed him. 10 minutes to be able to show a lifetime of love, that you'll be robbed for. 10 minutes to let them know that it's you're going to be okay. 10 minutes to let them know that your family's going to be okay. Ten minutes, that's all you get. I want you to think about the person that you love most and think of only 10 minutes that you have left with that person. And they don't get to say nothing back to you. You don't get a hold of them, you don't get to hug them, you don't get to give them any type of physical affection to let them know that you're there, but just get to talk to them. Just think about that person and think, can you do that in 10 minutes and still hold it together? You know, we're faced like stuff like that every day. And I remember a call previously to that that my little brother asked me, said, bro, I just need you to do everything you can to come home, man. Just come home. And I told him that I would, but I just said it aimlessly. You know, sometimes you just want to say things to make people feel better about what they say. And I had to tell him on that phone call that it wasn't me just saying it aimlessly, that I was going to do everything I can to come home. And so I made that promise to him. The lady came on the phone saying, you have one minute left, man. Did I not want to hear her voice? I didn't want to hear none of that. I was told that I had to get off the phone, I had to go sell back in. I wasn't given no special permission to come out and use the phone again. I wasn't given no opportunity because we're on a lockdown. And that supersedes anything that's going on in your life. And so that morning I went to sleep, woke up the next morning. We started doing the preparations to be able to go to his funeral. There was a counselor here, I can't remember his name. He came to me and he was explaining about how he lost his little brother to cancer and how he was going to do everything he could to help me go to the funeral. You see, when I was in close custody, I was just starting my time. I've been in prison for about four years, four plus years. And due to the status of my crime, I wasn't allowed to be able to do certain things. But There were some people willing to take a chance on me. You know, we're going to trust you and we're going to let you go and do this thing, but this is going to take a lot of trust from us. And so I was like, listen, I'm not going to do nothing crazy. I just want to go see my family, you know, so this counselor made that happen for me. So I got to go to my little brother's funeral dressed in all orange, ankle shackles, waist shackles, wrist cuff to my waist. And I got to go up there and speak. And I got to say that my brother kept his promise, that he said, anthony, I'm going to get you home one day. He wasn't there. He never told me that he was going to be there either with his promise. He just said, I would get you home. Well, he kept his promise, so it was only right that I keep mine. Counsel, your next witness. Our next witness is Leonard Norling. My name is Leonard Norling. Thank you for the time to speak at this hearing. For those that are on the board from my hearing over three years ago, I think now, thank you for your recommendation. It's gone a long ways. Anthony Covert is extraordinary. Beyond that, he's a much better man than the crime he committed. Anthony exhibited perseverance, resiliency above and beyond my capacity at his current age. The extraordinary thing that I've seen with Anthony, his ability to give back in classes and programs to help people. And when he received the devastating news that he had lost his chance to challenge his conviction because of not knowing of a plea agreement, he didn't falter in his character, his integrity, or his purpose and meaning in life with just continual growth and helping others. For me, that's extraordinary. He didn't break into the pressure of disappointment and having to serve out his entire sentence, having been incarcerated for 22 years myself, less things have caused people to tip over that edge. I met Anthony in, I believe, 2017, and I never once have seen him falter in his character, his goals, his aspirations of being a better person, being better than his worst mistakes. The thing that makes Anthony unbelievably extraordinary is his ability to persevere through the hardest things and be kind, generous and loving to others. I've reached out to the community here and we are ready here in the Wall Walla Valley to support Anthony. All the resources that have been helpful to my success in reentry, establish myself in the community and starting my business and being successful are also here for Anthony. Mr. Norton, what would your relationship be with Anthony if he were released early? Would you have any kind of financial relationship with Anthony at all if Anthony needed financial help? Absolutely. I've ascertained a commitment from the Wall Wall Oxford house, the very same house that I transitioned into when I was released for Anthony. Have a secured and healthy living environment. And if necessary, I've talked to my wife and I told her that, you know, I believe in Anthony enough that I would trust him in my own home. And if need be, that is an available option. What about income and work? Prior to my release, after the governor signed my commutation, Logan, a friend of ours that we both mutually know started to go fund me page and raised $4,000 prior to my release to give me a bump when I got out. Logan, myself and many of us here in the community are also going to do that. And I have finances set aside right now to assist if he needs that. But I'm not worried about helping Anthony financially. I think there's more pressing things that I can provide for him. Adjusting to a very confined, scheduled regiment to society is more important. I think he's more than capable of working. He's worked this whole time that I've known him and been productive, professional and contributed in whatever capacity of job he had. I want to provide a seamless transition through the other aspects of release re entry, dealing with getting license or dealing with navigating and adjusting to the restraints of a 24 hour time period. Only those that have been released after a lengthy time understand that there's only 24 hours in the day. When I was released, I wanted to do about 30 hours worth of stuff in a 24 hour period. And I had people, wise counsel, family support to guide me and get me through that process. That's one I want to help Anthony with as well. Okay. Having been a formerly incarcerated person, how do you view what Anthony did? It's funny you mentioned that. My first strike, I brandished a miniature dark crossbow and shot it at a young gentleman, which I'm very sorry for. And I could be in the very position Anthony was myself. In fact, I was. Except for it wasn't a pistol. It was a miniature dark crossbow and I didn't hit the guy. I was 18, intoxicated in the very circumstances of Anthony. Anthony has shown remorse and he even acknowledged the harm that not only caused the victim, but the community. Not only in conversation with me, but while incarcerated, while being in front of classes facilitating, saying there's a greater purpose than just your crime. You need to own it and he does, and he's made himself vulnerable to show others how to take responsibility. Once again, this is Vic Chopra for concretemama News, reporting on the clemency hearing of Anthony Covert. You've just heard some powerful testimony from community members advocating for his early release after being incarcerated for 16 years. If his clemency is granted, Anthony would go home 20 years early on his original 36 year sentence. Throughout this hearing, you've also heard from members of the Washington State Clemency and Pardon Board. This panel is crucial to the clemency process. They review applications from prisoners to determine whether a case has merit, and then hold public hearings such as this one to make their recommendation of clemency to the governor, who has the final say. The truth is, there aren't many prisoners that qualify. Applicants must demonstrate exceptional rehabilitation, unjust sentencing, or a compelling reason for release, such as a medical condition. And even with the recommendation by the board, it's ultimately up to the governor to grant clemency, which is actually a rare occurrence. Okay, I hear that Anthony is once again ready to continue his story. Let's send it back to him. It's an interesting thought to know that the things that we endure in here, you don't endure anywhere else in the world. You only endure things like this in a place like prison. And that only adds to the confusion. You know, one of the biggest things that I learned since I've been here is that who you are today may not be who you are tomorrow. And who you are tomorrow may not be who you are in 10, 20 years from now. We're constantly evolving. We're constantly growing. We're constantly trying to find out where it is that we're heading. I'm on that rope, climbing up into this oasis, trying to figure out where am I climbing to. So I continue my journey. I continue climbing my rope. The further I get up it, the further away all those things that I used to hang on to get away from me. You know, my life has been crazy, man. I did a lot of really cool things. And I really got a knack for wanting to help other people be successful. With my faith, I learned that I have value. I learned that I am capable of being able of value to others, that I am able to give to others without expecting anything and really return. One of the biggest things that I was proud to be able to put into my petition was the story about my little brother. You know his name? Jonathan Leonard Van Housing. Covert, right. I get to say his name and other people get to hear his name. So his memory lives on. You know, I know he's up there talking in God's ear on my behalf all the time. Like, look, man, I need you to help my brother out. I found find it satisfying to know that he's in a place that I believe where he isn't suffering no more, doesn't have no more pain. And so putting my petition together, I just kept him on my mind. I got so many other brothers rallying around me saying, bro, you got this. You know, just go in there and give them who you are. And I was like, who am I? When I had the opportunity to explain who I was, that's when I got to see the room shift. I got to see the minds and the eyes shift. You know, I felt privileged to be in front of that board. I knew it was a privilege, not a right. And I just gave him my story. And after about two hours, they said, you know what? On those grounds, I make the motion to recommend to the governor the commutation of Mr. Covet's sentence. Now, to give you some perspective, right, I am a 290 pound, pretty muscular African American Hispanic man. And I was crying my eyes out because I felt the release the valve. The rope I've been climbing had a top, had a ceiling, had a doorway that I was able to punch open and climb to the top of it and set my feet upon a rock. I was able to set my feet upon a rock, and that rock was my faith in God. Knowing that the man I became today was because he put everything in my path for it to do so, man, I survived. And here I am now with an opportunity to go home. Wow, folks, what an incredible hearing and beautiful story of redemption from Anthony Covert. I'm now going to pass it to Demar in our studio for some closing remarks. This is Vic Chopra with concretemama News signing off. You know, it's crazy. Hearing Anthony speak about that rope is profound. You know, it seems like we all climb this invisible rope in our lives. It's like some days I know why I'm climbing. Other days my hands slide down this rope because I'm weary. You get exhausted, your arms get tired from holding on. But it raises the question of when will I arrive to my destination rather than the continual pull that we face every day. I've come to finally see this rope for one of two things. You can either climb with this rope with hope, or you can hang yourself with it by giving up. I choose to keep climbing, I hope. Whether you're walking mainline, pacing your cell in IMU or winding down from a long day in the free world that you choose to keep climbing as well. Get ready for Red's history piece as we unfold the vast history of Walla Walla. Red here. Concrete mom of the podcast. Campbell. Concrete mom of the podcast. And we got a couple special people here with us today, man. We got Chris McGill and Josh Lancaster. And today we're going to be talking a little bit about some ghost stories. You have anything to add to that, Campbell? No, I just. I'm really interested and eager to hear their stories. This might be a little strange and weird, but, you know, that's. I think that's the point of today is just to be a little bit strange and weird and just talk about some of the crazy people have heard and seen here over the years. Jo, had a couple things happen to you actually, right? Yeah, I've had a few. I've had a few ghost encounters in my life. Can you share a little bit with the listeners? Absolutely. I've had two. I've had two ghost encounters here at wsp. We're all. Both of them were when I had first started and I was working night shift a lot more. The first one that I remember was the one in unit six. It was. I ended up working night shift in unit six, which is now our camp. And after the evening day room, we locked everything down, secured all the cells. My partner that night had gotten hurt closing all the cells down that night, which I thought was strange, but she went to the hospital and I was there just kind of keeping an eye on things. And around. Around midnight, I remember hearing this loud. What the. Right about. Right about at the turn of midnight and by myself, brand new here at WSP in a unit that I was very unfamiliar with, sitting at the officer station, I was watching the cameras. And after hearing the loud noise, I was like, that's weird. So I kind of started walking over towards the tiers. And very faintly in the distance, I heard the sound of keys, like the keys make when you walk. Lot of the times people tuck them into their pocket or leave them out on their belt. It makes that sound for every step. And so here I am at the bottom of the stairs, middle of the night, and I hear the sound of keys. No one else is supposed to be in there, right? Nobody was there. I checked the cameras. All the doors were secured. I checked the back doors. I called over to shift to see if anybody was messing with me. Nobody had been in the building. Nobody was. There was people on breaks that weren't on grounds at all. But nobody came over there to mess with the new guy. You don't want to be that guy. Like someone's escaping when I'm watching it. Yeah, yeah. The only one, right? Dude, he's like, I'm not that guy. I imagine you're in trouble if that happens. Oh, yeah, yeah, for sure. For sure. So, I mean, what happens next after you hear a ghost? Yeah, I mean, what did you do? I wouldn't lock myself in an office middle of the night. No, I made sure all the doors were locked, and I checked the cameras, checked all the doors. For everyone's safety, right? Yeah, everybody was safe. So as far as my job at that time, I was good. And I was not about to get attacked by a ghost. Be a victim. Yeah, it might be the person to fall victim to a ghost. It might have tried to touch you or something, you know, I mean, maybe. Depends on who it was. Yeah, depends on who's the ghosts belong to. So did you figure anything else out? Did anybody else see it? Did anybody else hear it? Heard the cameras didn't pick anything up. Shift didn't see anything. So now you're the crazy guy that's seen the ghost. Now I'm the crazy guy that's seen the ghost. That's why they call you. But I'm not the only one that's seen, heard, and experienced the ghost in unit six. Yeah, Six Wings, where it's at, man, there's people. Why is that? There's so many deaths over there? They had that movie theater that lights go out, people get stabbed in. Wait, what's the movie theater? We need to know more. Yeah, what's the movie theater? They had a movie theater inside six way in the day room. It's still there. It's caged up now. You can kind of walk back there, and they had, like, little tears, and then they had a huge movie screen that they played movies back in the day. And it's no longer in use now, but right around that. Also in 6 Wing. It's where the death row is. Death row is in Six wing. So a lot of people have died in the vicinity of that building. Also, an officer was happening. Yeah. So Josh is not the only one. That's crazy. I mean, all these. I mean, some of these guys been sleeping. They coming down, and they. They have this white look on their face. When I'm working the unit, they're like, man, something's going on. Last night. I'm like, what? And they're like, we saw after a Tear jack has been done. And when the tear check is when the officers go by and check everyone. So every whatever time at once. Yeah. And they said, officers walk by that we know that work there. And then they left the tier. And then in front of our cell, standing in. It was on F tier, the last cell, and there was an old school uniform. It was officer with a hat and the baton. Still old school uniform. Stand there staring at him. What that. Hey, what the hell? And then they. And then it disappears. So multiple times that happened. Most of those guys lived in that one's close custody back then. Know that. And they've had multiple. Multiple. Yeah. And it's the old school uniform that you were describing. Right. So they don't wear that anymore. That would have been around the 1930s if they had worn that and carried a nightstand. Yeah. Going into the Lincoln Day Massacre, where that happened. Or that officer that passed away and got killed and stabbed. Officer Herbert Briggs. The very first line of death duty death at wsp. Yeah. Yeah. That was as an officer or as a just overall inmate or just person? He was the first person. He was the first officer at wsp, and it was him and eight inmates. Right. Died that day. Yeah. You know, we encourage you guys to go look this stuff up. We're not making this up. This really happened. Whether that was the ghost or not, you know, we can't say. But, you know, that's. That's part of this place's history. Yeah. You know what I think of these ghost stories and whatever that I hear, I feel like it's like it's the people. Yeah. Who died. Right. I mean, I think that's the first, like, thing that comes to our head when we think of the ghost is the people who died at the place. But I think it's like the people who didn't get to, like, say their peace or didn't find any healing or something to help them move forward, you know? And I feel like they're just stuck back here, and now we're just hearing their voices because their voices were never really had the opportunity to be shared, you know, So I feel like they're just stuck back here kind of haunting the place. Because I've heard about, like, the ghost stories, like, for a long time since, like, I was in close custody, like, years ago, you know, I've never heard nothing like that about, like, an old uniform, like, stuff like that. That really kind of makes you question, like, oh, like, this might be an actual ghost, because people don't wear that anymore, you know? Foreign thank you for listening to this week's episode of Concrete Mama the Podcast. Stay tuned next week for some mid season super secret behind the scenes content. We would like to thank J.R. mitchell and Jim Funicelli for their ongoing support of this podcast and all of our work at Unincarcerated Productions. We would also like to thank Kiffin Allington and Squire Brill for their undying support in everything we do. That's it for this episode of Concrete Mama, but before we go, here's who makes it happen. Zach Bentz is our editor, audio engineer and graphic designer. Megan Sanchez handles our social media content and audience engagement. Vic Chopra and me, Rachel Check are the showrunners and executive producers. Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla and Washington State Doc have made this project possible. For more info, check out our show notes and you can write us with questions about the podcast at the email and address listed there. We will read and answer some of them on future episodes. You can also subscribe to support us and get extra content. Concrete Mama is more than a podcast, it's a platform for voices that need to be heard. If this episode resonated with you, share it, support it, leave us a five star rating and keep listening. You can find Unincarcerated productions on Instagram, Facebook, TikTok and various other social media platforms. Thanks for listening.