Prisoners and their obituaries.

An interesting read. More than a few students have been tasked to write then own obituaries, tell the stor about what would you say about you at the end of your life. Last year my wife did it for an English class in college. But I gotta say this is interesting. Often the last meal of a prison inmate is written, but not the obit. Worth a read.

Inmates writing their own obits reveal regrets, failed dreams

In the wrong writer's hands, an obituary can be a dull collection of biographical facts, the type of article that journalism professor William Drummond calls the "lowest common denominator" of newspaper writing.

But on this day, he hoped for something more profound from his students, even if his classroom wasn't filled with the high-achievers he was accustomed to teaching at UC Berkeley. Drummond was across the bay in San Quentin State Prison, where he was introducing inmates to the basics of covering the news.

The obituary assignment came with a twist. Instead of writing about a pop star's overdose or a political leader's assassination, Drummond told his incarcerated students they would be writing about a different death: their own.

They would choose how they would die, and they would sum up their own lives however they wanted.

"I did it as a way to find out how these guys had reconciled their crimes," Drummond said. "Were they able to take a critical look at what got them in trouble?"

The inmates, he recalled, were uncomfortable. These were people who were best known for their worst decisions — stabbing a man to death, gunning down a bystander, robbing banks.

Now Drummond wanted to know: "What is your real value?"

The resulting obituaries were reflective, outlandish, candid, evasive, aspirational. Above all, they showed how people who have wronged society would like to be remembered.

Phoeun You's heritage is tattooed on his neck — "the killing fields." He escaped the genocidal Khmer Rouge in Cambodia when he was a child, reaching Utah as a 5-year-old refugee with the rest of his family.

Phoeun You is one of several inmates at San Quentin who wrote his own obituary for a class project. (Mark Boster / Los Angeles Times)
"It snowed, and there was nothing but white people," the 41-year-old recalled....

...In his obituary, You doesn't mention his crime. Instead, he describes a heroic death — being stabbed while trying to break up a racially charged fight in a prison classroom.

"Mr. You observed what was about to take place and stepped in front of Mr. Bryant in hopes of diffusing the situation," he writes. He is stabbed and dies immediately...

...Sitting in the prison yard, You explained his choice of death: "My incarceration, the reason I'm here, is by taking a life. When I leave this world, I would love to leave saving a life."...


...Since Julian Glenn Padgett arrived in 2006, he's enrolled in academic classes and played Shylock in a prison production of Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice." Even while sitting in a cramped storage closet during a break from his work at the inmate-run newspaper, he spoke with the intensity of an actor on stage. Asked about committing murder, he cited a Walt Whitman poem.

Padgett stabbed and killed a man he believed was a romantic rival. Therefore, his victim cannot "contribute a verse" in "the powerful play" of life.

"I don't want to be remembered as the man to do that," he said. Like You, he doesn't mention his crime in his fictional obituary.

Padgett, a 51-year-old Ethiopian Jew who wears a knit kippa over his dreadlocks, was convicted in 1997 in Sacramento and isn't eligible for parole until 2023.

His obituary is brimming with passion for outdoor activities that are out of reach.

But most of the 57-year-old's obituary focuses on his childhood in San Diego, including a wrestling match victory and a stint as junior class president.

The longest quote in the article comes from a classmate testifying to his high school leadership skills.

"He built the treasury from just a couple of dollars, to several thousand. His biggest accomplishment was at Homecoming, our float was the biggest one, and our Junior Class Ball was held at a big fancy hotel. The seniors were somewhat jealous."

Despite his candor about his conviction, the obituary focuses on his younger days....


...George Burns envisioned a noble end in his obituary. In the early morning darkness, he would stop by the side of the road to help someone with a flat tire, only to be struck and killed by a speeding driver.

"George was the type of person that loved helping those that were less fortunate and needed help," Burns wrote. "His heart was made of gold."

Although he wrote about his desire to be a positive influence, Burns was also upfront about his crimes in the obituary.

"Mr. Burns early life was rocky he was in and out of jail," he wrote in one fragmented sentence. A gang member in Sacramento, he was convicted of robbery and firearms charges in 2001 and sentenced to prison for 31 years and eight months.

In his obituary, Burns wrote about enrolling in college classes and trying to turn a corner while in prison....

I guess one thing strikes me. I just finished a year as a jail supervisor and a point I've made more than once, "There is not a guilty man in this place." These men own up to what they did, to a point.