Blood in the Water

by Thompson, Heather Ann

  The leadership committee also compiled a list of people they hoped would come to Attica to serve as witnesses to their uprising. They were eager to receive individuals, as Clark explained, who they felt would help them get the word out about conditions inside the prison and hold the prison officials accountable: “We wanted these individuals to come in as observers, to keep an eye on us and keep an eye on the department of correction.”35

  12

  What’s Going On

  It was clear to anyone watching Superintendent Vincent Mancusi pace his office on the morning of September 9, 1971, that he was furious. Mancusi could not believe the position he’d been put in. Here he was, fifty-seven years old with a college degree from the State University of New York at New Paltz and a high position within the state bureaucracy, and he had to go hat in hand to a bunch of thugs to ask them what in the hell they wanted. Although he thought this was outrageous, it was unavoidable. Mancusi believed that he had done all he could do to protect his staff—he had, for example, sent all of the female staff home by 10:00 that morning—but now he had to figure out how to wrest his prison back from the men inside.1 The only way forward was to find out what the prisoners wanted and let them know, in no uncertain terms, that they had better surrender immediately.

  At 11:30 on the first morning of the rebellion, as the prisoners were getting themselves organized, Mancusi grabbed a bullhorn and headed down to the gate leading to A Tunnel, the tunnel closest to the administration building. He shouted that someone needed to come and tell him what was going on. Eventually, four or five prisoners appeared in the dark recesses of the tunnel. Mancusi was unnerved to see that “they had football helmets on, towels around their head so that they were not recognizable [and] everybody was talking at once, hollering.”2 “Shut up and talk one at a time,” he barked at them, as though they were ill-behaved children.3

  They stared icily at Mancusi and, without missing a beat, one of these men, Richard X Clark, stated that “they would have nothing more to do with [him] and would only talk to the commissioner or the governor.”4

  Mancusi stormed back to his office. He was not happy to hand the problem off. In fact, he still hoped that he would be able to send Major Monahan in to take back the rest of his prison as soon as there was sufficient manpower, but that idea was nixed when Commissioner Oswald finally arrived from Albany at 2:00 p.m. with his team of officials, including his deputy commissioner, Walter Dunbar; the chief inspector of the New York State Police, John C. Miller; and Gerard Houlihan, director of public information for the Department of Correctional Services.

  During a briefing in Mancusi’s office on the second floor of the administration building that afternoon, Oswald made clear that he wasn’t willing to approve a forcible retaking of D Yard because he was worried about the potential loss of life.5 Instead, Oswald hoped they could find a peaceful resolution through negotiations.6 One thing the commissioner was insistent about, however: the prisoners would have to release the hostages before he would agree to talk with them.7

  Meanwhile, there were other parties showing up at the prison who also wanted to make sure that this riot’s end was negotiated peacefully. One of these was Herman Schwartz, the practicing attorney and law professor at the University of Buffalo who had managed to get the Auburn transferees out of Attica’s HBZ. As soon as he heard on the local radio that this prison had exploded, he’d called Deputy Commissioner Dunbar in Albany and offered his assistance. Though he was told that Dunbar’s office would be in touch with him should his services be needed, he decided to go to the prison anyway, just in case.8

  As he pulled up to Attica in the early afternoon of September 9, Schwartz was taken aback by the number of spectators, reporters, and policemen already gathered there. On one of his business cards, he wrote a message—“Mr. Commissioner: I’m out here on the grass in front if I can help”—and handed it to an officer at the main door.9 When he received it, Oswald had mixed feelings about Schwartz’s offer of assistance. He had been at odds with this prisoner rights attorney on more than one occasion. That said, Oswald believed Schwartz to be “a man of warmth and convictions,” and agreed to let him in.10 As Schwartz entered through the massive door, he found himself shocked by the number of “Tommy carrying troopers and guards.”11 Unnerved, he nevertheless proceeded to the A Tunnel gate, where a group of prisoners standing guard agreed to let him come into D Yard to receive their demands.12 Schwartz said that this was okay with him, but he would first have to talk to Commissioner Oswald. The prisoners saw this as encouraging news—perhaps some negotiations could now begin.

  Thirty-five miles away in Buffalo, Assemblyman Arthur Eve, the legislator who had visited Auburn the previous November and had been distressed with how prisoners were being treated following the rebellion there, had also heard about the uprising via an AP radio broadcast. He drove straight to the radio station to read the full transcript of what the station had gotten off the wire. Soon he too was on his way to Attica.13 Since 1966, Eve had been one of the few African Americans in the New York State Assembly, and given how many of his constituents experienced intensive policing and high rates of arrest, prison issues had always been close to his heart. Over the years, he had found himself visiting many New York state prisons to follow up on the complaints of those locked inside.14 Eve’s reputation as a reformer, and his outspokenness on behalf of the Auburn rebels, had earned him the respect of many of the Attica prisoners. As he edged through the ever-growing crowd in Attica’s parking lot on the early afternoon of the 9th, he hoped that being an elected official would allow him entrance. He knew that the prisoners had paid a high price for rebelling at Auburn, and he very much wanted to be an advocate for them before this latest uprising came to its inevitable end.

  By 3:00 p.m., while the men in D Yard were still hashing out what demands they might make of prison officials, Assemblyman Eve and lawyer Schwartz were in Attica’s administration building, being briefed by Oswald. Schwartz made the case that he should go into the yard as the men had requested, and Eve was eager to go in as well. Oswald agreed to send them both, asking that they set up a meeting between him and prisoner representatives contingent on the release of the hostages. At 3:25 p.m., Schwartz and Eve made their way to the A Block gate via the administration building, where they were met on the other side by a formidable-looking group who frisked them and then led them into D Yard, straight to the leadership table.15 Schwartz was offered juice and was then asked to get up onto the table and introduce himself. Though he was well known to some of the men in the yard, others were clearly skeptical that this white lawyer in a button-down shirt could really be on their side.

  Their suspicions only intensified after Schwartz asked to go over their typewritten list of “Immediate demands” and then offered his comments. The list that Schwartz reviewed included six items (reprinted here verbatim):

  1. We want Complete Amnesty. Meaning Freedom for all and from all physical, mental and legal reprisals.

  2. We want now speedy and safe transportation out of confinement, to a Non-Imperialistic country.

  3. We demand that the Fed. Government intervine, so that we will be under direct Fed. Jurisdiction.

  4. We demand the reconstruction of Attica Prison to be done by Inmates and/or inmates supervision.

  5. We urgently demand immediate negotiation thru Wm. M. Kunstler, Attorney at Law—588 Ninth Ave., New York City, Assemblyman Arthur O. Eve, of Buffalo, New York. The Solidarity Prison Committee, Minister Faerrekhan of M.S. Palante, the Young Lords Party Paper, the Black Panther Party. [Clarence Jones, of Amster News]. Tom Wicker, of the New York Times, Richard Roth from the Courier Express, The Fortune Society., Dave Anderson of the Urban League of Rochester, New York., Blond Eva-Bond Nicap., and Jim Ingram of Democratic Chronicle of Detroit, Mic.

  6. We intensely demand that all Communication will be conducted in “OUR” Doman “GUARANTEE ING SAFE TRANSPORTATION TO AND FROM.”16

  Schwartz felt that some of these
demands were feasible. However, he made clear that he did not think that either the demand for passage to another country nor the demand for the prison to come under federal jurisdiction was likely to be met. Many in the yard became hostile, meeting his comments with boos. Confused, Schwartz felt that he was helping these men, but some saw him as “project[ing] a superior-type of attitude,” and others “had this feeling that he was talking down to them” and that he was “a racist like all the others.”17

  Fearing that the situation might rapidly deteriorate, Arthur Eve stood up, introduced himself, and gave Schwartz his heartiest endorsement. This had the desired effect. Things soon calmed down. Deep down the men in D Yard knew they needed Eve and Schwartz—to communicate their demands, to set up a meeting with Oswald, and hopefully to arrange for television cameras to be brought into the prison. This last desire was important because, as Champ later explained, we “were trying to reach…the poor working-class people, the people who have sons and daughters and uncles and fathers and husbands and nephews in places like these….Then, hopefully they can reach those in political office to get some changes made.”18 The prisoners also wanted more transistor radios so that every man sitting in D Yard would be able to hear what was being reported about their rebellion.

  Twenty-five minutes after they had been escorted under heavy guard into the yard, Schwartz and Eve were back at A Tunnel gate. As they parted company, the prisoners gave them the names of three more people they hoped would come right away to Attica to act as observers: State Senator John Dunne, U.S. Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm, and Federal Judge Constance Baker Motley.

  Although Oswald was obviously relieved to see Eve and Schwartz emerge from A Tunnel unharmed, he was most unhappy to learn that the issue of releasing the hostages had never come up. Worse, he was told, the prisoners wouldn’t discuss anything further until the commissioner met with them personally. Superintendents Mancusi and Dunbar were adamantly opposed to this idea, fearful that Oswald might be killed or held hostage.19 Oswald agreed to talk with the men in D Yard, but only if they would meet him on more neutral ground. Oswald proceeded to walk out onto one of the catwalks overlooking the yard and shouted down to the prisoners that he would speak with them from up there. To Oswald’s astonishment, his offer was refused. If the commissioner was going to talk with the prisoners, the men shouted back, he was going to have to meet with them on the same level, man-to-man.

  When the commissioner returned, he was so upset that he considered sending the state troopers in immediately. It astonished Herman Schwartz that Oswald “seemed to think that the matter had to be resolved within a few hours,” because it seemed clear to him “that this situation demanded time and a lot of it.” But after Schwartz and Eve reminded him that there were nearly forty hostages’ lives at stake, he looked down and said softly, “I’ve got to go in.”20

  Together, the trio descended into A Tunnel, now referred to ominously by both sides as “No Man’s Land” or the “DMZ.” Schwartz, Eve, and Commissioner Oswald were met by Richard Clark and a team of prisoners charged with protecting these visitors. When they stepped into D Yard, they were surrounded by an even larger security force. Oswald was pulled and pushed along toward the table at the corner of the yard, keenly aware of the tension and anger radiating from the men on all sides. As he continually wiped the sweat from his balding head, the security force tried to calm him. Big Black Smith, for example, took care not to frisk Oswald too aggressively before bringing him into the yard, and other security men shouted, “Don’t let anyone near him! Don’t let anyone near him!” as the commissioner made his way forward.21 When Oswald saw who some of the men were up at the makeshift negotiating table just ahead, however, he was unsettled all over again. Jerry “the Jew” Rosenberg, a convicted cop-killer, and L. D. Barkley’s angry eyes took him aback. He was glad to see that Frank Lott and Herbert Blyden, two of the July Manifesto’s authors, were also there, however, because he remembered them as seeming genuinely interested in discussion and had always written to him respectfully.22

  To Oswald’s surprise, from the moment he sat down at the negotiating table every one of the men who spoke to him began politely. In fact, as soon as he took a seat, one man offered him a drink of Grapeade, while another assured him that “they had no animus against him, but against the local prison administration.”23 Nevertheless, the men were eager to get some answers regarding why Oswald had not responded in any meaningful way to their July Manifesto. He answered that he had taken their needs seriously but had viewed the manifesto as little more than a copy of the one rebel inmates had produced at Folsom prison, sparking some angry outbursts and a chorus of boos. The men insisted that their document described conditions at Attica, and accused the commissioner of dodging their concerns. As this back-and-forth continued, Oswald kept trying, unsuccessfully, to turn the discussion to the issue of the men over in the hostage circle.

  By 5:00 p.m. on this first day of the rebellion, the meeting between Oswald and the men in D Yard was coming to an end. To the commissioner’s dismay, he had not secured the release of the hostages, and yet the prisoners made clear that no further discussions would take place until he fulfilled a number of their requests. So he did. Oswald agreed to, among other things, send in more food and water, remove some of the armed state troopers and COs who were watching D Yard from the roofs of other cell blocks, and check on Ray Lamorie and Leroy Dewer—whose mistreatment had helped to spark this rebellion—to make sure they were unharmed. He pledged also to look into conditions in C Block to ensure that the prisoners who had been returned to their cells there were not being beaten. Finally, and very importantly, Oswald agreed to the prisoners’ request that the media be allowed into D Yard so that the world could hear what they were trying to accomplish in this protest.

  As he was being handed off at the gate, one of the prisoners reminded Oswald that he had indeed been given safe passage: “You see, we kept our promise.”24 This mattered to the commissioner. He saw himself as an honorable man, and he would attempt to resolve these men’s concerns to the best of his ability.

  This was not at all what Major Monahan wanted to hear. By the time Oswald exited the yard, Monahan had marshaled sufficient troops to regain control of the prison.25 In addition to his own men, by 2:30 that afternoon 250 additional troopers had arrived from other areas of the state, joining at least forty sheriff’s deputies and 350 on-duty COs, all ready to storm the prison.26

  But Oswald had already committed himself to talks with the prisoners and refused to be talked into an assault on Attica, at least for now. Over the angry objections of the growing crowd of law enforcement officers now thronging Attica’s outside lawn, the commissioner set about contacting a team of newsmen to go into D Yard. He then personally toured HBZ and C Block to check on the safety of the prisoners. He also began working to contact people to serve as observers to the negotiations he hoped would soon commence. Fulfilling the prisoners’ request for water turned out to be a more difficult task since many of the water lines in the prison had been damaged in the riot, but Oswald persevered. He began by contacting General Almerin C. O’Hara—known to all as Buzz. If anyone could make this happen, Buzz O’Hara was the likely candidate. Commissioner of Rockefeller’s Office of General Services as well as a former commander of the New York Army National Guard who had been very effective during the Rochester, New York, riot of 1964, O’Hara did manage, by day’s end, to get many large cans of water to the prison to be distributed in D Yard.27

  At 5:48 p.m., Oswald was pleased that he had responded to the prisoners’ demands so quickly and was therefore optimistic about what the next round of discussions would yield. He returned to D Yard—this time accompanied not just by Eve and Schwartz but also by two newsmen from The New York Times and the Buffalo Evening News, as well as a handful of local reporters. This group was then joined by some national broadcast and print reporters—from NBC, UPI, and ABC.28

  From that moment on, Attica entered history. For the
first time ever, Americans could get an inside look at a prison rebellion and watch it unfold. Notably, the media weren’t the only ones filming inside. Since that afternoon, the New York State Police had been monitoring every move the prisoners made via a portable television camera and a videotape recorder. They were looking for any acts of potential “evidentiary value,” making sure to film who was doing damage to the prison, who seemed to be in charge of the negotiations, and who was keeping the hostages in one place.29

  The men in D Yard were thrilled to see the newscasters and cameras coming across the grass toward the negotiating table. Once the television cameras started filming, a hush fell over the yard as L. D. Barkley first took to the bullhorn. Addressing himself to “the people of the United States of America,” Barkley told how the state had promised the men at Attica “many things [but] they have given us nothing, except more of what we already got, brutalization, murder inside this penitentiary. We do not intend to accept…this situation again….Therefore we have composed this declaration to the people of America, to let them know exactly how we feel and what…we want.” He went on to say, passionately:

  We are men: We are not beasts and we do not intend to be beaten or driven as such. The entire prison populace, that means each and every one of us here, has set forth to change forever the ruthless brutalization and disregard for the lives of the prisoners here and throughout the United States. What has happened here is but the sound before the fury of those who are oppressed.30