Voices From the Row: Daddy

Hotep,

It’s been a minute, but my man Mr. Blue is back in this W2TM mix like a DJ Khalid cameo; brief, but always leaving you with something to nod your head to.   Na mean?  Feel the “Blue View” on fatherhood and how it continues to thrive from inside the box.  It’s on you, Blue.

100,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2014 by Leroy Elwood Mann

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“Daddy.” There is no higher honor.  Fathers are our first role models, our first heroes.  Fathers shape the behavior of who their children will become.  These children then form communities, and it is communities that make up the world.

The importance of a father’s influence throughout each stage of a child’s development cannot be overstated.  A son sees his dad’s strength and from that example, he learns to be strong, capable, and dependable.  When he sees how affectionate his dad is toward his mom, he learns compassion and that it is not unmanly to care and to love; and it is this balance that stabilizes his soul in a frenetic world where those values are not always clear.

When women look to choose a mate, their standard will always be their fathers.  When the example set by their dads is a good one, little girls grow into beautiful, healthy, high-spirited young ladies.  When the example set by the old man is a poor one, you have dysfunction and young women who are constantly searching, yet can’t quite put their finger on what it is they’re looking for.

As I sit here on death row and contemplate my turbulent life, I sometimes reflect on the fact that I’ve never met my father…

I wish I’d known him…

I wish I’d been a better father to my daughter…

On this Father’s Day, I take my hat off to fathers all over the world.  It doesn’t matter if your pants sag, if you talk with a lisp, if you’re rich or poor, a good speller or dyslexic, short or tall; A rock star or can’t carry a tune in a bucket.

To your child, you are the most important person in the world; you are that kid’s M.V.P.   All that matters to them is that you be there.  Your accomplishments matter not.  The greatest thing a man will ever be in life is a dad.

Happy Father’s Day.

Mr. Blue.

Copyright © 2014 by Paul Brown

D-Block: An Unforgettable Education

Hotep,

My first full day as a death row prisoner (7/16/1997) began with an education that continues to influence my way of dealing with other individuals sharing this circumstance.  

My high profile case made me known to the row long before I set foot on D-block.  At age 28, I was one of the youngstas on the block.  I received many greetings, but expected none to be genuine.  After all, this is prison.

My education stated when the newspaper was delivered the morning following my arrival.  An old head named “C-Dog” held up the front page and said, “Mann, you big time now youngblood.” Seeing my face on the front page caused my stomach to twist in knots.  

I refused to allow my internal damage to become evident to the strangers I was now forced to cohabitate with.  As if it was nothing more than Allen Iverson’s latest stat line, I took a seat at the table and began reading the public’s perception of me.

Twenty-one sets of eyes were beaming on my presence.  There was an air of silence that forced my heart rate to increase.  The words on the newspaper were getting blurry, and I could feel sweat beads forming on my temples.  The lies in the headlines were getting the best of me, until Willie E. Fisher sat across the table from me and casually introduced himself while scanning the sports page.

In our first conversation, “Fish” admitted to stabbing his son’s mother while under the heavy influence of crack cocaine; America’s nightmare.  His regrets were sincere enough to bring my heart rate back to normal.  The words on the paper became clear again, and in no time, “Fish” was breaking down the entire appellate process. 

He would be the first cat, in the pen, I developed any level of trust with.  He was someone that always sought the good in another individual.  He was a constant reminder that everyone is a living testimony.  He taught me not to rush to judgment before the Creator has had His final say.  The strength in his spiritual connection with the Creator was undeniable four short years later.

It was 2001.  “Fish” received his execution date early in the New Year.  The C.O.’s were clocking him hard –observing his every move.  The chaplain began coming around more frequently – offering spiritual guidance, but Fish was well equipped.  He was counseling everyone he knew would be affected by his execution.  Word is bond!

I was standing at his cell window – enjoying the distinctive taste of a black cherry flavored Black and Mild cigar, when the chaplain made his presence known.  With shock in his voice, he asked, “What’s the celebration guys?”

Fisher and I both knew why he was standing at the threshold of DL-204, inhaling our second hand smoke.  “Everyday is worth celebrating when you’re alive to acknowledge it, chaplain.” His words hit the chaplain like a ton of bricks.

The chaplain responded by politely asking me to leave while he and Fish discussed some “personal matters.” Before I could exhale, “Fish” requested that I remain.  “Anything you have to say may be beneficial to my brother down the line, chaplain.”

I stood there listening to the funeral arrangements and the cost his fam would be required to pay to obtain his corpse, after his execution was carried out.  The morbidity of the conversation was calmed by the way Fish handled himself.  I was in awe.

The day that Fish walked out of D-block for the last time (3/7/2001), a part of me went to the deathwatch with him.  A part of me died on 3/9/2001, but the death of Willie E. Fisher will not surmount the four-year education I received watching and listening to him live.  Ya heard?

Still Livin,’

MannofStat

Copyright © 2014 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Paternal Pardon

 

My Pops

“Sankofa is a West African word that means, ‘to fly forward while looking back.’ This means in order to push toward your destiny, you have to have a sense of your past.”

Hill Harper

Actor/Best Selling Author

Hotep,

On June 24, 2012 I reached out to President Obama in a post titled, “Mann to Man.” (http://word2themasses.blogspot.ae/2012/06/mann-to-man.html). My Pops was ecstatic about that post.  His enthusiasm about my direction in life let me know I was doing something right.  

We didn’t expect the president to issue a direct response to this particular blog post, but Pops was convinced the President of the United States is aware of my circumstance.

It’s always encouraging to have a father’s support when a son blazes his own trail to becoming a man.  In the wake of this trail, the poor choices of my past have been pardoned by the paternal influence that assisted in molding and shaping the Mann I am today.

When my detractors blow their horns to alert the masses that my existence is no more than a stormy petrel, looking to undo all that is good with society, the paternal pardon fuels my mission to transmit at a much higher frequency than a MannofStat detractor’s distress horn – riddled with hate.  Feel me?

As I continue to fly toward my destiny, I can see some of the fathers that have fallen before us: Mr. Leroy E. Mann, Sr., Mr. Julius Samuel, Mr. Walter ‘Big Walt’ Williams, Mr. Thomas Carter, Mr. Michael Green, Mr. Dennis L. Wilson, Sr., Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Mr. Malcom X, and President Nelson Mandela.  I’m sure all of these fathers have granted a paternal pardon to their wayward offspring at some time or another.  We thank you for this familial reprieve.

The Family Mann

In closing, I’d like to acknowledge my son, Daveante Elwood Mann, Sr., who has blazed his own trail at becoming one hell of a dad.  I’m really proud of you Son.  

And, to the man who had a hand in raising my son, Mr. Earl, thank you for any paternal pardon you may have granted him. You’ve raised a good Mann.  Happy Father’s Day!!

100,

MannofStat

Copyright © by Leroy Elwood Mann

Just Another Inmate

Hotep,

The halls of unit 3 were constructed for the sole purpose of housing the gloom and perpetuating the distress of condemned men.  Moments of weariness transcend into days of loneliness, which eventually produces a man overwhelmed by years of emptiness.  

When the people on the outside lay to rest all memories of an inmate’s freedom – grasping to the halls of unit 3 and all that it entails – makes him just another inmate.

The judge and the district attorney no longer think about you, that is; until your number is called, then they will think of your long awaited demise as a signature moment of something they did right.  Since when has pointing fingers in the dark indicated the “right direction?”

If it’s any consolation, the jurors may think about you.  Their nightmares derived from self-guilt will keep you on their minds, but they can always pick up a phone and talk to someone to help dry the cold sweats.  

They can also sit in front of a computer terminal for hours, temporarily cleansing their minds of your ghostly existence, by occupying their thoughts with blogs about tropical flowers and the pleasantries of making pastries.  What outlet do you have?  You’re just another inmate.

If you rationalize a death row existence as not being so bad, until the state decides it’s your time to die; you’re just another inmate.

If life on the outside no longer counts unless it’s attached to a JPay deposit receipt, you’re just another inmate. 

Seventeen years I’ve been inside this box, coexisting with inmates and forming genuine bonds with prisoners.  Not a day has gone by without my sights set on the freedom that comes in the form of a familial embrace, that leads to an ongoing conversation about future ventures, and concludes with all parties involved exercising their freedom through the vernacular of a befitting goodbye: I’ll call you tomorrow; I’ll shoot you an email before the week is out; we’ll catch up at TGI Friday’s next Sunday.  Feel me?

Thoughts of freedom make me a prisoner to the halls of unit 3.  I don’t sleep long enough to grow tranquil in my subconscious freedom, so my daily plight is maintaining a free mind during my hours of interaction with a common logic to survive, when the thought of living is no longer rational.  I want to live; not survive.  Ya heard?

A prisoner’s quest to live will repeatedly be met by the innuendoes of some captors and most inmates.  I can only see them as mere pebbles on a beach that will soon succumb to my literary tidal wave – gaining momentum toward the shores of disbelief and closed –mindedness.  

My splash will be epic.  The residue of my flavor will be identified, as an inmate’s will to live, when so many choose to survive.  I will not be remembered as just another inmate.

Always 100,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2014 by Leroy Elwood Mann

A Tribute to a Queen’s Journey

Rochelle,

It seems like it was just yesterday when I was saluting your future international endeavors in the post, “Worldly Woman,” (http://word2themasses.blogspot.ae/2011/06/worldly-woman.html).

I’ll admit, I was a bit reserved at first, but eventually I became so inspired by your 2-year journey to Kenya that I started speaking words in my Swahili phrase book on the regular. Hujambo? (How are you?), Habari (Hello), Asante (Thank You), Karibu (Welcome), and Ndiyo (yes).  

Learning and speaking the basics of this royal language helped me to feel closer to your royal journey.  I will forever be in debt to you for that.

So here we stand at another international bypass.  This time your royal journey takes you to Dubai.  I can’t say that I know a lot about Dubai – other than what I’ve seen or read through the American media feeds.  Between you and me, we both know I’m going to receive a first hand education on the culture of your upcoming worksite.  Right?

Here’s what I do know, Rochelle: Dubai is another adventure to the east of our ocean where you’ll be leaving familiar time zones far behind.  It’s another cultural landscape awaiting your presence, because a Queen who is about her business is an international commodity.  It’s another reason for me to hold you in such high regard, Boss Lady.  Ya heard?

Your work ethic is nothing less than contagious.  You’ve given me so much to strive for, Rochelle.  I can only hope that the fruits of my labor will eventually reach a plateau to where you will be as proud of me as I am of you.  Your royal approval means everything to me, Queen.

I’m not writing this to embarrass you.  As your friend, I have the right to take pride in knowing you.  It’s an honor to be a part of your world, Ma.  Congratulations!  The world is a much better place with you in it, Rochelle.  Word is bond!

You can follow Rochelle's journey at http://dellaonassignmentindubai.blogspot.com

Friend 4 Life,

Lump

NP. 4Life

Copyright © 2014 Leroy Elwood Mann