My Brother is Gone: Tookie Williams 1953-2005

My friend and brother, Larry Hales, posted this on a site of our local peace coalition. As is usual, Larry gave us something powerful to think about. Thanks, my brother.

This letter was sent to Dennis Bernstein, host of Flashpoints on KPFA 94.1FM, who forwarded it to the Bay View for publication.
It will be read live on Flashpoints Friday, Dec. 30, at 5 p.m. PT.
Dear Dennis,
I have been on San Quentin's death row for 23 years. I am also an avid listener of KPFA and Flashpoints for the true investigative journalism that you do.
I recently read in the Bay View newspaper ofthe letter you wrote to Stanley Tookie Williams. Tookie was one of my closest and dearest friends.
The prison administration was clearly aware of this, so on Dec. 9 San Quentin officials launched a preemptory strike by removing me and seven other death row prisoners from East Block and placing us in solitary confinement at the Adjustment Center, pending a false "investigation" into our involvement in a plot to assault staff if Tookie was executed.
On Dec. 16, I appeared in front of the Classification Committee and was told by the warden that there is an investigation, but in the meantime he placed me on a walk-alone exercise yard - a small kettle with a sink and toilet combo.
He placed me on 90-day property control, where I have no personal property in my cell and I can't go to canteen to purchase cosmetics and food items. The other seven individuals got the same treatment.
My friend's death is too fresh to talk about, but I woke up in the middle of the night to write this poem, "My Brother is Gone," which I would like you to read over the air.
I have no idea if you will ever receive this because my mail is being delayed.
I will ask the guys who have radios to be on the lookout for you.
Thank you.
Sincerely, Adisa


My Brother is Gone: Stanley Tookie Williams, 1953-2005

I want the world to know
I walked, lived
and blossomed
during the time of his presence
My emotions are too raw
my senses are too frayed
to tell them tell anyone
for 20 brass-knuckled years
we struggled together
forging a bond
cemented by our faith,
love and brotherhood
Our way was not always smooth
as a well manicured lawn
We blazed the path as warriors
knowing in the end
the highest form of warriorism
is laying down the sword.
My brother is gone
No longer will I gaze upon
his glistening mahogany colored skin
look into his gentle eyes
or grip his hulk-shaped hands
No longer will we greet each other
with a brotherly hug
or bump fists
No longer will I hear his soft spoken voice,
see his warm smile
or be in his charismatic presence
No longer will I see his boyish grin
and smooth gait
No longer will we laugh together
or I poke fun at his shyness
whenever he got a compliment
No longer will we catch
each other's eyes
from across the yard
acknowledging
our whereabouts
No longer will I probe
his razor sharp mind
or excite
his insatiable curiosity
because my brother
was murdered
at San Quentin prison
Dec. 13, 2005, 12:36 a.m.
My brother is gone.
I cursed those who
rejoiced upon hearing
the news of his death
now that they are spared
from the muscle of his mind
Though my heart aches
my rage festers
no revenge of bullets,blades
or bloodshed
will bring my brother back
My brother is gone.
I watched him shed
the shackles of his old image,
become reborn in a new spirit
I named him Ajamu,
"He who fights for what he wants.
"He fought against all odds,
against the naysayers
who sought to pigeonhole
and fossilize him
in his lowest state
He rose above it
to build a legacy
that will be talked about
for years to come
As the energy emptied
from his body
and his life was no more
I yearned to bury him
in the African way
As I wrap him in silk
Sing freedom songs
you are free my brother
free from the perils of a country
that daggers Black pride
emasculates Black strength
and kills Black hope
I wanted to be able
to chant healing mantras
to take with him
on his final journey
weigh his heart
on the scales of Maat
ensuring his passage
through the underworld
so that Ausar
will welcome him
My brother is gone
I will not weep
as others will weep
I will not break
as others will break
I will not mourn him
as others will mourn him
I will not celebrate him
as others will celebrate him
He has left me
with plenty
but taken a part
of me with him
I shall honor him
as I honor every freedom fighter
I will love him in death
as I loved him in life
We shall meet again my brother
as we planned at the crossroads.

Write to Steve at Steve Champion, C58001,
San Quentin State Prison,San Quentin, CA 94974