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[Partially Lost] Reality TV episodes - Oswald, NY prison
submitted 5 years ago by Ty_nxt in r/lostmedia
First time poster to the sub, so hopefully I’m doing this right! I'm trying to find out if anyone has any recollection of a reality tv or local news broadcast (my memory is fuzzy) that took place at Oswald State (the prison). It would’ve been something from the early 2000s, maybe 2005 because Katrina was happening around the same time. I was only a kid so maybe this is all a fever dream and no one will know what I’m talking about, but there was this reality TV show. Only a couple episodes (?) but it was about prison life and there was a whole thing about a cooking competition, which never aired. I think someone ended up getting murdered which is why the rest of the show didn’t air. WAS THERE EVEN A SHOW!? i located a couple of old news articles about the prisoner who died, but the show isn’t mentioned anywhere. I grew up in the town over, so is there anyone by chance from Oswald or the area who remembers this better than I do? Thx!!
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_Tidings79 4 points 5y ago
Don’t remember a show but I remember WYAT used to cover the crazy shit at Oswald all the time. This murder definitely made the news.
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ringwaldluvr3 7 points 5y ago
I can confirm this. It must have made national news too because I remember seeing it on the news in OH. There’s an archived article from CBS here: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/inmate-slain-in-brutal…
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Chiit4n 1 point 5y ago
Oswald was named the top deadliest prison in the U.S…
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NewMoldCity 67 points 5y ago
My uncle DJ’ed for CoolWaves 92.3 and I remember him promo’ing the show back in 2006. Will have to ask him about it in case there are details I forgot, but there was indeed a show. Back then they were calling it a documentary, but in retrospect it was definitely more reality show than documentary. It was produced by FOX and promoted heavily on their local affiliate, WYAT Action 3 at the time. Personally I remember the previews but didn’t watch the first episode. They had a crew on the ground at Emerald City unit to show how the cons were being rehabilitated. Uncle said they had this cooking program to teach the cons life skills and that part of the TV show would cover an inter-prison competition. They were going to have Todd McEnerny (Geez! Does anyone remember that A-hole?) come in and judge and everything… The first episode aired to drum up excitement. It was actually pretty interesting. Lisa Logan hosted. It’s actually still mentioned on her old website via the Wayback Machine. The show was just called "Oz".
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CremeBruLayMe2Rest 17 points 5y ago
Jumping on to say I remember watching the previews for the show, too. They had to bleep the **** out of those clips! Fun fact: the priest at my former parish used to work at Oswald as the prison chaplain. He was a cool dude but he made a really weird joke one time during Lent about how he was glad we didn’t fry the fish with the heads attached. Considering what happened, I always think about that comment when I go to the fish fries at my current parish.
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throwaway-6538 3 points 5y ago
Any chance you could ask your uncle if he has any media at the radio station about it?
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Chiit4n 23 points 5y ago
was that before or after that bioterrorist attack XD TBH, after reading about all the inmate deaths at Oswald over the years, I’m surprised that place hasn’t been shut down for good yet! Americans love their prisons, I guess… Do we know if the local news station archived the footage? You could call to find out, I bet. Try crossposting to r/OswaldNY, too.
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Ty_nxt 9 points 5y ago
Thanks for the tip! Yeah, any local could tell you that Oswald State is a whole industry for the area… I’m going to try and contact the local station. At the very least, it might prompt them to run a story on it themselves (they totally would). I did end up crossposting to the local subreddit, if you want to check it out. Folk over there remembered the TV show and murder a lot better. u/HannahVeeee said she had an uncle who was a corrections officer at Emerald City at the time…
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marriedJJane 10 points 3y ago
Found this thread after reading that Agnew article that just came out about the canned reality series. Now I really want to see that footage! Reddit, can we work some magic here?
The Man Behind The Curtain
Author, activist, and former prison unit manager, Tim McManus, looks back on twenty years working in the New York penal system. The architect of Emerald City, he’s been hailed by some as a champion of prison reform while to others, he is dismissed as an idealist who mis-managed the experimental unit during its most violent years. Coming up on the tenth anniversary of the release of his best-selling memoir, recently adapted into a major motion picture, I pay a visit to the controversial figure to learn where exactly the truth lies.
Tim McManus was just a child during the Attica prison riot of ‘71, but its tragedy would remain with him for the years to come, propelling the son of a diner owner away from the family business and toward a life dedicated to changing America’s broken penal system from the inside. While pursuing his Masters degree in Criminal Justice, McManus began to dream of the early incarnations of what would eventually become known as Oswald Correctional Facility’s Emerald City unit. The revolutionary plan would place maximum security inmates into a highly supervised environment, requiring stricter participation in prison programs in exchange for greater freedoms within the prison. With the backing of multiple state and Congressional senators, McManus’s vision to engage inmates in their own rehabilitation became reality in 1997, when Emerald City unit opened its gates for the first time.
Helming the experimental unit in the late 90s, when punitive justice was the name of the game, proved to bring challenges with it which exceeded the scope of McManus’s initial expectations. For one, while he has maintained through the years that it was always his vision to dive straight into the deep end with his plans, launching the program at the maximum-security Oswald Correctional Facility—Oswald State Penitentiary, as it was known then—meant that Emerald City and its rehabilitation-hopefuls would be at the mercy of local politics. Then-Governor James Devlin of New York, who ran on a tough-on-crime platform and very little else, was elected to his first term of office in the same year that the Emerald City project began. He quickly got to work putting more police officers on the streets and raising minimum jail and prison sentences to fulfill his promise of getting crime off the streets. In the meantime, the prison budgets were gutted, prisoner privileges were revoked, and the state death penalty was reinstated, all acts—along with Devlin’s tendency to micromanage the state prisons—which critics of the former governor have cited as having fueled the flames of discord among prisoners and staff.
“You could definitely feel the tension everyday at a certain point. Oz was always a tough place to be, but there was a time when the tension in the air felt so thick, you could just reach out and touch it,” says McManus, 56, walking beside me across his property at the edge of Williamston, New York. He tilts his head up to stare at the sky as he explains that when the Oz prison riot of ‘98 occurred, no one on staff was truly surprised.
As he takes me on a tour of his yard, gray storm clouds roll in across the skies and we fight a brisk gale. Just last week, a tornado devastated Morrisville three counties over, but McManus tells me he’s confident that there will be no more than a light drizzle this afternoon. The village where he’s settled down with his goat and three hens is just one hour north of Oswald—forty minutes from the nearest Starbucks. It hasn’t seen a tornado since 1971.
You wouldn’t know it looking at Tim McManus’s dirt covered work clothes and gloves, but he’s a two-time New York Times best-selling author and a popular guest panelist on the likes of MSNBC’s News Break With Evelyn Peters and The Breakfast Show. He didn’t always have a green thumb, he tells me as he shows me a vegetable garden by the chicken coop. He points out his tomatoes, his okra, his squash, and his swiss chard. He’s been known to donate his harvest to the food kitchen in town; family and friends, he laughs dryly, are few and far in between. “The ones who like okra, anyway.”
Skirting the topic of the much publicized riot, McManus instead gushes over the prison vegetable garden that he helped start at Lardner Correctional Facility in 2004, working in the capacity of Warden of Operations before being reinstated as head of Emerald City when Oswald, temporarily closed between 2003 and 2005, reopened its doors. “You end up learning a lot alongside the prisoners,” McManus reflects. It’s a recurring message in his first book, Oz: the Great and the Terrible, which was written and released in the same year of his expulsion from Oswald Correctional in 2006. Just as in his memoir, he is eager to extol the highlights of his career in prison administration. Is it easier than revisiting what some consider areas of his failure to manage Emerald City? “There’s nothing left to say about the riot,” McManus declares. “The whole thing’s been post-mortemed so many times, there’s nothing left to sift over but a pile of unrecognizable goo.”
Prison riots, he says as he kneels down to pat at some dirt, happen more often than John Q Public realizes. The difference between the riots we don’t hear about and the Oswald riot in ‘98 or the Attica riot of ‘71 were the decisions by authorities which led to bloodshed that was completely preventable. Though he names no names, to any reader familiar with both events, it will no doubt be obvious which authorities McManus blames for the deterioration in negotiations which led to the 8 deaths, including two correctional officers, in the three-day long Oswald prison riot of 1998.
In reading Oz: the Great and the Terrible, or to a lesser extent, McManus’s sophomore effort, Lessons From the Fish Bowl, one will inevitably come away with the observation that the greatest villain in McManus’s story wasn’t the inmates under his supervisions, some of whom even attacked him over the years, but the criminal who got away: New York’s three term governor, James Devlin. It’s an easy conclusion to draw; the entire ninth chapter of Oz is dedicated to detailing Devlin’s long history of interfering at Oswald. This all culminates in the murder behind bars of Devlin’s former friend and convicted New York City mayor, Wilson Loewen, an event which would set off a domino effect leading to the murder of former Oswald warden, Leonard Glynn, later that year as well. Often shamelessly embroiled in scandal, Governor Devlin would shock the public by resigning from his third term in office following the release of Oz, in which McManus laid out theories of a conspiracy involving Devlin, Devlin top aides, and Oswald corrections officers, including C.O Adrian Johnson and personal assistant to the governor, Perry Loftus.
Following public outcry in light of McManus’s book, an investigation was eventually re-opened and Johnson and Loftus were convicted on various charges of accessory to murder, conspiracy, and obstruction of justice. Each served ten years in Lardner Correctional Facility, while the former governor was additionally charged for bribery and campaign wire fraud crimes that had been plaguing him since his re-election campaign, and received a fifty-year sentence. Devlin, who was discovered dead in a hotel room last year under mysterious circumstances, served just two years before receiving a presidential pardon from close friend and then-President John Pekel in 2010.
Despite the role McManus’s book played in the conviction of Devlin, he’s said very little about the matter publicly over the years, telling The Atlantic in 2011: “Obviously, there are some who I think deserve to be behind bars, and James Devlin is one of those people. I mean, [his] actions directly contributed to the death of countless people over the years! Frankly, what else is there to say?”
As rain begins to fall and the storm begins to grow, we head into the house, a wooden, closed floor plan, where I follow McManus through a living room and into a kitchen, asking him if he’s had a chance to see The Sound Before the Fury yet. Rescued from nearly a decade of development hell and shot on an all-new script by indie newcomer Grace Chou, the film premiered at Cannes Film Festival earlier this year, and makes the bold choice of beginning right at the end of the riot, its opening scene depicting the moment that S.O.R.T stormed past the prisoners’ barricade and into Emerald City in a critically-praised ten-minute continuous shot.
He shrugs. “I went to the premiere. It was good to see everyone there. Grace did a great job and Bobby was good, too.”
How did it feel to see himself being portrayed by Robert Lawrence?
“Strange. It’s a movie, of course. I don’t think I was ever that… bright-eyed. Or shout-y. Hold on a sec.”
McManus is distracted again, peering out the window of his kitchen toward the dark, angry clouds rolling in. The wind and rain is picking up outside and our interview goes off track once more as McManus pauses to run back outside and cover his garden with a large tarp. From his kitchen window, I can see McManus as he hammers down the edges of a blue piece of plastic, his shoulders hunched as the growing winds whip his jacket all around him.
The left edge of the tarp flies up. McManus jumps on it and hammers in a few aluminum nail stakes. Another side balloons and escapes its shackles; McManus attacks the tarp, hammer raised and peg ready to go. The house creaks around me and I begin to grow uncertain, watching this madman throwing himself at all angles of the protective tarp until it’s finally secured to his liking.
Watching him through the kitchen window, it’s difficult to overlook the dusty collection of award trophies placed on the sink shelf directly below, some of them dating as far back as 1991, an amateur basketball league tournament medal. Among the medals are very colorful, misshapen popsicle stick ornaments and laminated construction paper cards.
For the moment, I observe in awe as wind continues to slip up under the plastic tarp, which ripples and shakes violently even as McManus flees the scene. As he trudges back into the kitchen, he’s soaking wet.
“What were we talking about? Yeah, the movie.” He’s breathless as he peels off his now slightly muddy work clothes and tosses his dirty gloves into the sink.
I ask about the children’s artwork and McManus seems surprised to realize they’re on display, explaining with a shrug that they’re gifts from children of ex-convicts he’s worked with over the years.
He still keeps in touch with some of the inmates?
“Well, the ones who’ve been released over the years, mostly,” McManus admits. “Although speaking of the movie, you probably know this, but Grace actually went to Em City to speak with some of the guys who were there during the, uh, during the riots.”
“You went with her,” I point out. What was that like, being back there, seeing the men he’d once been responsible for rehabilitating, many of them still behind bars or having returned after brief stints as free men?
McManus is quiet for a few moments, reflecting. “I guess you’re asking about the Post article. No, that’s it, isn’t it? That’s what all of this is about, right?” Gone are the calm, if distracted answers from before. Now I can see the glimpses of the Tim McManus once described by Julianne Cross as a temperamental blowhard with a bit of a persecution complex. “Look,” McManus says, waving his arms around in big, wet circles. “I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve made mistakes. I mean, I’ve written multiple books on the very subject. But I always did the best with what I had. That’s all you can do. The meeting went fine—I don’t know who spoke to the Post, but things did not get heated, okay? And there was no punching. It was very civil.”
Eventually, McManus concedes that voices did become raised; he calms down as he reasons through it, defensiveness fading. “Old habits,” he explains. He’s used to bearing the brunt of the blame, and the Daily Post article in question brought up old feelings—and perhaps old failures, including the most glaring: that final inmate death to occur during his tenure at Oswald, the unsolved murder of which recently received renewed public interest after the pilot episode of a shelved prison reality show went viral on Twitter. At the time of the original investigation, the case would be overshadowed by Governor Devlin’s resignation, with the bizarre death by deep fryer eventually becoming just another unexamined inmate death statistic. Now, as McManus goes on to describe seeing his former wards again, he’s notably averse to any mention of those past events. Instead, he dwells on what it was like to see celebrated poet and Marshall Project contributor Arnold Jackson, who was released on parole the same week that The Sound Before the Fury premiered at Cannes, and who has been credited by Chou as being an incredible resource in the process of writing the script for the film. Other notable inmates from the Emerald City experiment include Tobias Beecher, a liaison for the Alliance For Prisoner’s Rights, and Nacim Bismilla, founder of the Kareem Saïd Foundation, a non-profit aimed at connecting juvenile offenders transitioning back into their communities with resources to help them avoid re-incarceration as adults.
The way McManus would tell it, there was a lot of catching up and reminiscing. How did voices become raised, then?
“There were no raised voices,” McManus says.
I check my notes; he’s right, I apologize. How did things get heated, then?
Outside, the wind howls, giving McManus a reason to walk over to the window and stare outside for a short time. “Grace was talking about what it was like to work in film and TV, and it brought up some… dark memories,” he says, his words immediately followed by a loud snapping sound from outside, like the crack of a whip. “Well, there goes the f---ing tarp.”
[...]
Being 100 Podcast Transcript
Episode 102: “Miguel Alvarez”
March 19, 2018
Episode Description
Miguel Alvarez is an ex-con who served fifteen years at the infamous Oswald Correctional Facility, a maximum security facility in rural Oswald, New York. From being a leader in the ‘98 Oswald riot, to escaping prison for 6 months to turning his life around, he’s done it all, with the recent portrayal of him in the film “The Sound Before the Fury” catapulting Miguel back into notoriety.
In this episode, I sit down with Miguel to discuss his life: his upbringing, his crimes, existing in the limelight, and his continued journey to redemption after years of incarceration.
(Percussive music)
Felipe Fierro: Hey, hey, hey. It’s yo’ boy Felipe in the studio, you know what it is… Man, I have a great fucking guest here today. Long time coming. Those of you on Patreon know, I’ve been talking about getting this guy on here for a while now, so I’m really excited we could make it happen. Okay, you’re here right now so I’ll quit fucking around. We got Miguel Alvarez, the legend, in here—
Miguel Alvarez: Oh, legend? Shit, I’ll take that.
Felipe: You know what I mean. You’re infamous.
Miguel: Is that the good one or the bad one? Think that’s the bad one, bro.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Shut up. Okay. So—so—
Miguel: Infamous…
Felipe: How would you describe yourself? You ain’t famous. …Hold on. No, you gotta just sit in front of the mic. Miguel, come back. Sit right there. …Okay, well, this intro’s totally fucked up now. I should back up a second, explain how you got to be on here at least. You and me know each other outside the pod.
Miguel: Outside this room, yeah. You do go outside, right?
Felipe: You wanna know what I wrote for your official introduction? Because I was going to do a whole thing.
Miguel: Do it. I wanna hear it… Nah, ain’t being sarcastic.
Felipe: This is a fucking disaster.
Miguel: Read yo’ little intro—
Felipe: Everyone listening, just go ahead and close that window. Show’s over—
Miguel: Hey—okay. M’sorry. Glad to be here. …Go on. Go on! Sitting in front of the microphone and everything!
Felipe: Miguel Alvarez, everyone. My uncle, y’all. That’s the big secret. He’s my dad’s cousin. I don’t know what that makes him actually—maybe someone out there knows—but far as I know, you’re my uncle.
Miguel: Yeah, don’t know. Yeah, so—grew up with your old man. Me and Rafi were the only men in the family, basically. Rest of the family—all women. Men were all in Oz. Good job, by the way, avoiding that.
Felipe: The men were all in prison. I mean, yeah, let’s just jump right into it. I’ve been bugging you to come on here. Obviously, you know, I know about your life and shit—some of it anyway—but there’s other things I wanna ask, and I know some of the listeners want to know, too.
Miguel: Do they?
Felipe: Yeah, man. Twitter poll said so.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Fuck. So you and my pops, right. You grew up in the Bronx.
Miguel: Yep. South Bronx. Mott Haven.
Felipe: And of course everyone knows you from Oz—
Miguel: Shit, guess so.
Felipe: Well, talk about that, dude. I mean, talk about growing up—going to Oz. Wait, so how old are you this year?
Miguel: You serious?
Felipe: Forty-three? Forty-four? Forty-three, okay. So you’re still young.
Miguel: Eh.
Felipe: But you were—
Miguel: Twenty-three when I got convicted, sent to Oz.
Felipe: Wow, yeah. ‘Cause I’m twenty-eight right now—and I kiiind of remember you going to Oz, ‘cause my dad had just got sent to Lardner at the time. So I have this vague, you know, recollection of him being gone, and then you—we weren’t close or nothing back then, me being a baby and all, but ‘cause your moms lived nearby to us, after my dad went in, and then you went in, my mom would take me to your mom’s.
Miguel: Yeah.
Felipe: Your sister Lena used to, like, watch me during the summer.
Miguel: Left you in front a’ the TV and bounced, right? I know. I know how she thinks.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Yeah? I mean, talk about it, man. How did you grow up? Miguel Alvarez, age one to twenty-three.
Miguel: Uhhh. Damn. Well, I think back on it, I don’t think I had a miserable childhood, you know? Wasn’t perfect, but me and you, we grew up roughly the same way, different times. I can’t blame going to prison on shitty parents or whatever. Was all me. Pops was in Oz, of course. Went in when I was two—three—yeah, so I was a baby. Teenage pregnancy, or whatever. My pops, he gets convicted when he’s eighteen. Armed robbery, you know. My grandfather’s already in Oz, so growing up I’m like fuuuuck, you know? In the back of my head and shit. ‘Cause it’s just me and Rafi, and his dad’s in Oz, my dad’s in Oz and Carlos—my mother’s brother—is in Oz, and every other male is dead or down in Miami, you know? Growing up, I’m supposed to be the man a’ the house or whatever. I got three sisters. Lena—Magdalena—she’s a year older than me. And then there’s me, Mari, and Mira.
Felipe: All M names.
Miguel: Yeah. So, Mari and Mira, they’re, you know, they’re conjugal babies. Three years younger than me.
Felipe: Were you close, growing up?
Miguel: Uhhh, a little. You know, it was kinda hot and cold. They’re girls, right? So I didn’t wanna hang with them, you know? It’s like, whatever, and Mari and Mira always kinda just talked between the two of themselves. Twin connection or whatever. So they were always like “fuck off”, and they’re my baby sisters so it’s not cool, anyway. Me and Lena were closer for a while, growing up, ‘cause we’re only ten months apart. We kind of had a same thing going, ‘till school, and then, whatever, we drift apart. She goes off and does her girl thing, you know. There was this group—they were called the Mott Haven Locas. It was, like, a chick gang. She joins that, and I join El Norte. They’re sort of, like, brother-sister… hood gangs. Back then, we had a lot of neighborhood gangs, right? And my girlfriend at the time, in high school, she’s also in the Locas, so that’s how we met. She was Lena’s friend, and I bring this up ‘cause we actually got arrested together and shit—
Felipe: You joined El Norte when you were how old?
Miguel: Eight… Nine… Eighth grade? So I was, what, thirteen? El Norte, it was kinda… It had this sort a’ junior’s gang to it. Yeah, real organized. You graduated from middle school and the junior’s gang and then you were in El Norte—high school if you wanted to.
(Laughter)
Miguel: But I went to high school. Me and Lena are in these gangs, right, and our moms… she sort of has an idea, but whatever, right? What’s she really gonna do? She’s gotta work. Shit, she’s got four mouths to feed, she ain’t ever around, and when she is, she only got so much energy to be yelling at us. But we had to stay in school. That was the one thing, you know, she made sure was happening. And much as we wanted to fuck off, skip class, and be cool, right? We still fucking went to school anyway. ‘Cause they’d fucking call her, every time we—I mean, I still tried to cut class sometimes, ‘cause it’s boring and the teachers suck ass and, whatever. But she’d always find out and then it’d been like “¿De verdad crees que me gusta trabajar tanto? ¿Crees que a mami le divierte estar currando duro todos los días? I work my ass off for you! So you can have a better life, so you better take your ass to school. I don’t care how boring it is—” And then, you know, we’d feel bad for a while and go to school. So, but yeah, went to class, at least, and somehow. Somehow I kept my grades above failing. Wasn’t no genius, but I never went to summer school, fuck no. I was, like, ain’t going to fucking class in the summer! But I was still in El Norte, getting up to shit after school. I had this friend, Reynaldo, and we were best friends. And he actually lived across the street from my girlfriend back then—so I kinda knew of her growing up and then she became Lena’s friend and she’d come over sometimes and we just hit it off. Real pretty girl, real sweet. She could be a lot, though—you know how it is. She’d really go off when she wanted to. Anyway, that’s kinda how I grew up. It felt… It was just how it was, you know? Feel like I had a normal—normal for that area—life, you know? Moms had a job. We were poor, yeah. But you don’t really know that when you’re a kid. Wasn’t till I was older till it’d be, like, okay, why the fuck don’t I have anything? And then that’s where El Norte would come in. You’d see, like, gangbangers in movies and shit, on TV, and they’d have the cars, the chains, the—whatever. And you’d want to be like them. You’d want to have something, and it was like—everyone in El Norte, in Mott Haven, were people I knew, right? So in my mind, it’s a gang, yeah, but it ain’t, like… It’s okay.
Felipe: So what did you do in El Norte? I mean, as a gang, what was your—
Miguel: Scrapping.
Felipe: Metal?
Miguel: Yeah, that was a main thing. See, we had a different sort of, like, hustles—didn’t crews within El Norte. Was all about finding ways to make a buck, you know? So me and Reynaldo, we were part of these little crew that… Don’t think they can—yeah, statute a’ limitations.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Fuck, yeah, don’t go incriminating yourself.
(Laughter)
Miguel: Nah, it’s cool. S’been like twenty years. So, our crew, we’d steal cats and shit. …Catalytic converters.
(Laughter)
Miguel: We’d go up, at night—we’d go over to other hoods—never in Mott Haven—but we’d go to another neighborhood, and we’d have scoped out the blocks sometimes, and we’d steal parts. Then sell ‘em later. And that’s how we’d make a lot of money…
Felipe: Wow, so you weren’t selling drugs or nothing.
Miguel: Not me, nah. Now, doing drugs? Fuck yeah.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Yeah?
Miguel: I was doing drugs, yeah. Shit.
Felipe: How—What—
Miguel: Just at house parties, you know? Be drinking, and someone’d offer you lil’ something something. Everyone’s buzzing, of course you’re gonna fucking take it. Started with pot. Pot ain’t a fucking gateway drug or nothing, though. At that time the, whatever, war on drugs—
(Laughter)
Felipe: “Just say no”.
Miguel: Right. Well, I was saying yes, you know? I got hooked on heroin at one point. I was, uh, nineteen? Just after high school. So I got through all a’ high school just drinking and smoking pot. Did pills sometimes, dropped acid once, but I wasn’t, like, doing hard hard drugs. But then heroin, yeah.
Felipe: Snorting or-?
Miguel: Yep, snorting heroin. Actually, ‘cause, like, I would box, you know? And I’d get fucking hurt sometimes, so I’d be on painkillers a while, and then. Eventually, this guy I knew from the gym—won’t say his name—but he basically introduces me to heroin, ‘cause it’s made of like—it’s all from the same stuff. So I start doing heroin… recreationally. At this point, I’m out of school and I’m basically doing this gang shit 24/7. I had a normal job for about seven months out of high school. Worked construction and then I said “fuck it”. No time to fucking hang with my girlfriend or my friends—it’s dumb as fuck—this is what I’m thinking. I got better things to do with my time.
Felipe: So nineteen to twenty-three.
Miguel: Partying, drugs, sex, El Norte. Or whatever order you wanna put it in. …Was just the life, day in, day out. And I was making okay money. Enough to where I could put down on this car I wanted. Yeah, so: sex, drugs, El Norte, partying, and my car. That’s all I fucking cared about. And then I get arrested.
Felipe: And then you get arrested. Had you been in trouble before?
Miguel: No. Nah! I’d never been picked up for nothing before. Because, my father and grandfather. They’d both been picked up when they were eighteen. And they both had life—not for their original crimes, either.
Felipe: Yeah. You were wary.
Miguel: I had a foot in El Norte, but at the same time, I was always looking over my shoulder. I didn’t want to end up like them… Fucking know how that turned out, though.
Felipe: Shit.
Miguel: I turned eighteen. Graduated high school. Figure, okay. M’safe. Avoided the family curse or whatever. Do some boxing, win some prize money. Make enough to get by with El Norte. And my girlfriend—high school sweetheart, you know? I mean, we were off and on, but we were basically together all those years. She had a real job for a while, too, so between the two a’ us, it was cool. Then I get arrested, one day, because I’m—I’d actually been sober—I’d quit heroin for a while. S’what I’d decided, you know, ‘cause Ma—my girlfriend, she’d gotten pregnant. And she was—she’d just gone to the doctor’s at ten weeks or so, and it was starting to fucking actually sink in, you know? So I quit heroin. And I was heavy into Vicodin, too. But I’d stopped doing both, and I was real cocky about it, too. Showed I didn’t need that shit, right? I was really fucking cocky about going clean, but I felt like shit, too. Every little thing was setting me off. I mean everything. I beat up this old man just for scratching my car. Real, fucking—shitty thing to do. And I cut his face up, too. My girlfriend, she ends up getting arrested with me, ‘cause whatever I do, she’s with me. She’s ride or die, and we both go to prison. Me, fifteen years, parole in two, and she has four years, parole in two also. She’s pregnant, though, so, you know, everyone’s saying she’ll probably get out earlier. Be with the baby.
Felipe: Yeah.
Miguel: Baby dies.
Felipe: Yeah, sorry.
Miguel: It was like… I think… that’s like the worst thing that’s fucking happened to me, you know? All the other shit that’s happened to me—Fuck it, I been shanked… three… five times. Got shot—hit with shrapnel—during the riot. Got stuck my first day in Oz. Got starved, when I was in Solitary. Tried to fucking hang myself off the bars in there.
Felipe: Jesus…
Miguel: Right? But the worst thing, by far, was the baby dying. Because he was innocent. But I still killed him. He died, ‘cause of liver failure. ‘Cause me and his mom, you know? We were doing fucking heroin, even after she found out she was pregnant.
Felipe: How do you deal with that?
Miguel: It just fucking sits with you. Never fucking leaves, man. That’s blood on my hands, and I have a lot of blood on my hands, but a lot of it was self defense—had to do it. Was do it or die, so I have blood on my hands there, but if I didn’t, I’d be the blood on some other fucker’s hands. But my baby… He was…
Felipe: Yeah. Fuck. I can’t… ‘Cause I have a kid, too.
Miguel: Uh-huh.
Felipe: And I wasn’t expecting… you know, Beto was kind of a surprise.
Miguel: But you stepped up, which is what I should have done.
Felipe: Which is what you told me!
Miguel: Yeah.
Felipe: Like, that’s when we really reconnected, man. You’d just come out of Oz—this was 2012—and I don’t know how you heard about—
(Laughter)
Felipe: You fucking showed up, out of nowhere—fucking uncle I ain’t seen since I was a little little kid. And you showed up, and you told me to get my shit together and be there for Naya and the baby. I was like “yo, who the fuck does this guy think he is?”
Miguel: But you fucking did it.
Felipe: Yeah, I fucking did it.
Miguel: And you never been in trouble—
Felipe: Got a couple parking tickets—
Miguel: And you never been in trouble, and you got a cute fucking kid, and you and Naya are getting married this summer.
Felipe: You’re invited.
Miguel: Oh, fuck, thank you. I was wondering when the invite was—
Felipe: Fuck off…
Miguel: Didn’t wanna assume.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Talk about Oz, then.
Miguel: S’the shit everyone wants to hear, ain’t it? Who gives a shit about how I grew up?
Felipe: Nah, that’s part of it, man. Honestly, we could talk all day, but yeah, there’s a couple a’ things I wanted to touch on in this podcast. Things go long, we could have you on again.
Miguel: Ah, shit.
Felipe: What?
Miguel: Nah, ain’t that interesting—
Felipe: Yo! It is. I mean, that’s the whole point of this podcast, man. Being 100; we talk to, like, real people. Learn real stories. You’re the perfect person to have on. ‘Cause there’s the big things I want to get to—the riot, you know, your escape… the fucking movie, man—they made a movie outta your life, Miguel! And there’s the reality show, too. Everyone still wants to know about that, ‘cause there’s some stuff people say about it, and then you hear other stuff, like, “it was this”, “it was that”, yada yada, and you were there for all that, so you can set the record straight. But there’s all the little things, too. Just like, life in Oz, and Emerald City. Oz is—repeatedly—whenever you go search it up or whatever, it’s always listed as the deadliest fucking prison in the world. The United States, anyway. I don’t know if it's the most deadly in the world, but it’s gotta be up there, too, right?
Miguel: Shit, it’s up somewhere, yeah.
Felipe: That’s why I said you were a legend, man. Just ‘cause you were there for all that, and you were in Oz and survived, man.
Miguel: Low bar.
Felipe: High bar, bro. The riot alone—I mean, to jump right into it, that happened your first year in Oz.
Miguel: Yeah. ‘Bout a year in.
Felipe: We can actually hit two birds with one stone here, because this happened when you first got to Oz, and this is what the movie’s about. “The Sound Before the Fury”—came out last year. That’s how most people know you, if they didn’t read the book.
Miguel: Yeah. And he didn’t—McManus didn’t use my name in the book. I was Matteo, though. The inmate he mentions a couple of times.
Felipe: But then the movie—won a bunch of awards and shit. It starts right at the riot and it goes back and forth. S’got this whole time jumping thing. Kinda trippy.
Miguel: Yeah.
Felipe: The guy they had playing Luis Alvarez, which was clearly based on you—
Miguel: Yeah. Don’t know why they changed the name. Matteo, Luis. Neither one is real.
Felipe: Well, you know, Hollywood…
Miguel: Sure. But nah, it was good.
Felipe: Daniel Lopez.
Miguel: Yeah.
Felipe: Pretty, uhh, pretty…
(Laughter)
Miguel: Good looking motherfucker?
(Laughter)
Felipe: I meant—
(Laughter)
Miguel: They got that right, shit.
(Laughter)
Felipe: He’s a pretty great actor, is what I was trying to say.
Miguel: I saw him in, uhh…
Felipe: “The Black Stripe”?
Miguel: Nah, that other one. That one was good, too, but what was the one where he’s stuck at that cabin with the black guy and they keep pulling that lever? To keep the sky—the Climate Net or whatever on?
Felipe: Oh, “Outpost 52”. You liked that one?
Miguel: It was okay.
Felipe: That was also a kind of prison movie. The ending sucked, bro.
Miguel: Yeah, you want them to escape. The part where the white guy exploded, though…
Felipe: Fucking sick.
Miguel: Special effects, man.
Felipe: Special fucking effects. …Speaking of special effects, I mean we’re going off track a little, but… what were we-?
Miguel: Lopez.
Felipe: Daniel Lopez. So you met him, right?
Miguel: He was cool, yeah. Real nice.
Felipe: But I mean how was that? Was it weird, this guy playing you at that time in your life? Like I notice he didn’t really try to act like you—he was good, but you ain’t like that…
Miguel: Ain’t that fuckin’ loco, you mean?
(Laughter)
Felipe: I don’t think so.
Miguel: Nah, I mean… it’s weird, yeah, but it’s kinda based on McManus’s book so it’s like, it’s filtered. You know? I know why I did the things I did, but if you’re looking at it from the outside, I looked fucking bugs. And some a’ the stuff he says and does in the movie, didn’t happen.
Felipe: Sure…
Miguel: Kinda pissed me off, first time I read the script, you know, when the filmmakers came to me and were like, asking if it was cool—
Felipe: Oh, they did that?
Miguel: Yeah. I mean, the director, Grace. I don’t think she had to do it but she wanted to, I guess, ‘cause they were going to make the movie character based off me, and have him go through the shit… some of the shit I went through.
Felipe: That’s cool she, like, reached out to you, though.
Miguel: Yeah, so but. Yeah, I met Daniel back in …2015? When they were getting ready to film. Just, like, hung out or whatever. He had this fucking notebook—was taking all these notes and shit, for his preparation or whatever, you know?
(Laughter)
Felipe: That’s cool you hung out with him, man. I mean, he wasn’t as famous right before the movie, but he was still…
Miguel: Yeah, but I was in Oz.
Felipe: Riiiight. Shit, I forget, you know?
Miguel: S’cool. He was cool. He had a lot of interest in… Solitary. ‘Cause he had to play, that part after the riot—I didn’t get sent to Solitary after the riot, by the way. I was in Solitary a fuck ton, but not until a little while later. In real life, after the riot, it wasn’t as… Shit wasn’t as crazy as it was in the movie, with the interrogations and shit.
Felipe: You talk to the real Alvah Case?
Miguel: A couple of words. I was in the hospital ward after I got shot. I had a—there was a guy I knew, Carlos Rodrigo, he’d been my lieutenant in Em City after the guys made me leader, and he was shot during the riot when S.O.R.T stormed in.
Felipe: When did you watch the movie? You went to the premiere right?
Miguel: Yeah, the… Grace invited me to the New York premiere at Lincoln Square.
Felipe: It trip you out? Watching the same shit happen all over again on the big screen.
Miguel: Nah. Yeah.
(Laughter)
Miguel: Part that was screwy was it wasn’t Oz, man. Looked real like it, but they filmed at, like, they built Em City in a warehouse somewhere, right? It was a set. I could tell, ‘cause there’s little things. Like I’m looking at the movie, and there’s no… There were all these details missing. History you don’t realize you internalized like that ‘till you’re looking at the movie and you’re like, “wait”, the floor ain’t scuffed up where it’s supposed to be. The fucking recreation tables are too big. Color of the lights ain’t exactly right.”
Felipe: Like looking through a funhouse mirror.
Miguel: And I was there on the other side. Being played by Daniel Lopez.
(Laughter)
Felipe: People like your character, though. Even though he was, like, this unhinged dude, he was relatable. You were relatable. I think that’s why people have been wanting me to get you on here. ‘Specially ‘cause after that—
Miguel: Jesus—
Felipe: After that interview. Hey, come back here. Don’t roll away, man. People liked that video. How the fuck did that girl find you, anyway?
Miguel: Hannah. Hannah Vaughn—
Felipe: Shout out to Hannah—
Miguel: She, like, found my email or something. Shit, I don’t know. Her uncle was a C.O at, uh, Oz, apparently. I don’t know. Never met the guy—think he might’ve worked maybe on the administrative side of shit? Either way, she finds my email, and me, I’d just come off parole—was working for this guide dog training non-profit—Man’s Best Friend. Great, uh, great organization. They work with a lot of prisons to train guide dogs for—anyhow, she wanted to meet up, ask about some shit.
Felipe: And you said yes.
Miguel: Shiiit, didn’t have anything else going on. Didn’t have many people to hang out with on the outside, and… Had just broken up with—I was seeing this girl at work, and we just broke up.
Felipe: This was how long ago? ‘Cause I know she’d done the video and posted it, but then it was a while, and then the movie came, and it got passed around again—
Miguel: Uhh, parole ended… I got out 2012. Parole was… so it was 2014. About a year before I’d talked to Lopez.
Felipe: Okay, so she asked you about “Oz”, the show they tried to make back in the day.
Miguel: Surprised the hell outta me.
Felipe: I mean… were you aware of-?
Miguel: Oh yeah.
Felipe: The internet mystery?
Miguel: Nah, not when I met up with her. But I realized pretty fucking quick, you know? ‘Cause I’m thinking “how the fuck did this chick know about shit that happened fucking years ago?” Is this a set up? Is she a cop?
(Laughter)
Felipe: It’s crazy. There’s, like, a whole… category of people out there who just like solving cold cases. Fucking cops should pay them—well, maybe they do.
Miguel: Fucking cops.
Felipe: Useless motherfuckers.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Okay, but that’s the big thing, right. There was this Reddit thread—
Miguel: On this website, a whole forum dedicated to—
Felipe: Uh-huh—
Miguel: Yeah, so Hannah shows up to this café we agreed to meet at—she’s like this real nerdy looking white girl. And she shows up with this whole backpack—camera bag—and notepad and shit, looking like an actual reporter. And I think she’s a little scared a’ me, you know? ‘Cause here I am, out on parole, and she knows that. But she comes right up. “Hi, I’m Hannah, like… Are you Miguel Alvarez? From Emerald City?”
(Laughter)
Miguel: Ain’t gonna do the voice. Sorry.
Felipe: That was foul.
Miguel: Hannah, I’m sorry. She don’t sound like that. Maybe a little. So she tells me, you know, I’m Hannah, I’ve been researching this lost show that aired a couple years back. There was an inmate who died during its taping which led to its cancellation, and I just wanted to ask if you could tell me anything about that show. Being that I was in Em City at the time—
Felipe: Yeah.
Miguel: And I’m just like… What… is this girl talkin’ about? Reality show?
Felipe: That—haha, you—in the video—
Miguel: I know, I know, man, but that’s what I was thinking.
Felipe: How did she get you to agree to be on camera? I mean, she filmed that very first thing?
Miguel: Yeah. She was real convincing. “For posterity, Mr. Alvarez, for my records? Like, can I-?” Fuck, I’m doing the voice again.
(Laughter)
Miguel: Anyway, shit, I didn’t care. Wasn’t like she was asking me about shit I’d done. And I figure, it’s kinda weird, and I kinda dig it.
Felipe: We have the video here. S’a fucking long interview but I wanted to play part of it, ‘cause you said you haven’t seen it—
Miguel: Nah—
Felipe: And there’s this part that became kind of viral online. So I wanted to get your reaction… Audio-only listeners, just, there’s a lot of white noise, so just be warned, but video audience, we got the captions on here…
(Click) (Café chatter)
Miguel: …Fucking kidding me? All I’m thinking is I’m too fucking high for this shit. Fucking cameras in my face… I thought I was hallucinating. Shit, the motherfucker’s face just fell off! I was like “Damn. Yo, it ain’t that serious. Gonna kill him over that?”
Hannah Vaughn: Did you, like…
(Indistinct)
Miguel: Fuuuuuuck no. I tell Chico, I say, “Yo. We can win this thing, baby. They pull O’Reily out of the deep fryer, we haul ass over to the ice cream machine.” And he just goes—puts his hands right here, like this on my shoulders. He goes: “¡SACA LA CABEZA DEL CULO, CABRÓN! A man is dead. They ain’t gonna let us use the motherfucking ice cream machine.”
(Laughter)
Hannah: Wait, like, what did the first part mean?
Miguel: You know, uh, “pay attention” or whatever.
(Click) (Laughter)
Felipe: I mean it’s not that funny—
Miguel: A man is dead.
Felipe: They ain’t gonna let us use the ice cream machine.
(Laughter)
Miguel: What they really—what Hannah and them really wanted was getting their hands on the actual episodes they’d taped, but I guess interviewing my ass was the next best thing. She said she tried getting in contact with Beecher—Tobias Beecher, this other guy who was in Em City—’cause he was actually paroled back in 2008, see? But he wasn’t responding or whatever. I was another guy they’d tracked down, besides Hannah’s uncle and… some hack, who was fired—was willing to talk about the show.
Felipe: Someone on Reddit finally found a copy of the pilot—had a mom who obsessively TiVo’ed shit, so they had the previews, and then they also had the first episode of the show from when it aired, which got uploaded online after Hannah’s interview started gaining traction.
Miguel: S’fucking insane.
Felipe: For sure, man. For sure. But have you seen it yet? You’re in it. You’re in the pilot. …He’s shaking his head. Really?
Miguel: Ain’t gonna recognise a thing, to be honest. I mean—I remember O’Reily getting dunked in the deep fryer, ‘cause that shit’s crazy, but everything else was kinda a blur, you know?
Felipe: Okay, well, we’re just going to play part of this episode, and you can watch it for the first time. Should we—how about, if you wanna say anything, we’ll just pause it? Okay.
(Click) (Swanky exotica)
Lisa Logan: …Oz. That’s the name on the street for Oswald Correctional Facility, level four. Oz. A maximum-security prison at the edge of Oswald, New York, population thirteen thousand, three hundred, and twelve. Nearly twenty-five hundred of whom are inmates at Oz, those numbers supported by a staff of about one thousand correctional officers. Here, in Cell Block Five, also known as the Emerald City unit, violent inmates are housed in largely transparent, six by ten foot cells, and are subjected to round-the-clock supervision. They are expected to attend drug counseling, finish their education, and work in the prison. In return? Small liberties. Tim McManus’s vision of rehabilitation starts with returning a sense of humanity to those who some might consider animals…
(Percussion)
(Indistinct chatter)
Tim McManus: Right now, some of our programs include theater and vocal lessons. Creative programs, you know? To get the inmates in touch with their feelings. Acting can be a powerful tool to help them change how they see the world around them. And it’s team building, too.
Lisa: ‘Cooperation’ is the name of the game. Cooperating with C.Os… cooperating with each other. To live in harmony in Emerald City, inmates even have to learn to cooperate with the inanimate…
(Muted shouted) (Plexiglass rattling)
(Click)
Felipe: You know the guy freaking out right there?
Miguel: Yeah, so that’s… Well, they blurred his face, but he was this guy who killed his parents. Fucking hated the pods. Got sent to Solitary, like… probably right after the taping.
Felipe: Where are you?
Miguel: Mm… ain’t on screen. Woulda been… over, down… Yeah. Was on the first tier after Oz reopened and we came back. Yeah, ‘cause McManus wasn’t rotating the pods like he used to.
Felipe: What does that mean? Why would he-?
Miguel: Security thing, I guess. Used to switch things up, make it so no one was getting too comfortable in one place, with one cellie. There was a guy who’d dig tunnels… S’how I escaped: I followed him out. He dug a tunnel out.
Felipe: That’s some movie level shit, yo.
Miguel: Yeah, he dug a couple a’ tunnels. Was one that collapsed, killed a couple a’ skinheads. …Yeah.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Okay, I’m actually gonna skip forward past the intro for time. That okay?
(Click) (Click)
(Swanky exotica)
Lisa: …Unit managers, head C.Os, and prison support personnel attend their weekly General to discuss any recent issues within the prison and strategize on how to move going forward. It’s also the place where new ideas for rehabilitation programs can see the light of day.
Tim: …And so I wanted to bring up this new proposal…
(Groaning)
Tim: This teaching the inmates to cook program has been extremely successful at Hecht—
Claire Howell: A minimum security prison! It’s bad enough we have inmates working in the kitchens with knives. Now you want to give even more of them access?
Tim: Why not? I mean, Martin, if we can get more of these guys developing some life skills for when they’re released, maybe we can keep them from becoming untethered once they are. Besides, the prisoners are always complaining about the quality of the food. And the program at Hecht showed that when the inmates had something to rally around and feel pride about, they fostered a sense of community with one another. Less fights.
Sr. Pete Marie “Sister Pete” Reimondo: I think there’s something to that idea. Something like this could give the inmates a sense of much needed purpose.
Tim: Right, and you could gather a list of candidates who would be suited to the responsibility—
Martin Querns: …Be that as it may, the budget for additional food stock far exceeds our funds for another—
Tim: That’s why, if you turn the page…
(Papers rustling)
Claire: A fucking cooking competition?! What, did you watch too many episodes of Hell’s Kitchen during your sabbatical?
Sean Murphy: Oh, I don’t know, Tim…
Tim: As part of the current documentary they’re filming, Lisa’s network is willing to help us fund a three month test run of this program with a competition between inmates at the end. It can be broadcasted on TV, live, to drum up interest and fundraise for the future of the program. And who knows? Maybe a live competition can become a regular fixture—a way to connect to the public and show the humanity in here, too.
Father Ray Mukada: Yes, but putting the inmates on television? Live?
Sister Pete: I agree. Tim, I think pitting these men against each other in competition may be—
Claire: Stupid?!
Martin: …Ms. Logan said her network would pay for it?
Tim: Yes.
Martin: Well, then I see no issue here. Next topic.
Claire: Warden!
(Dramatic hit) (Indistinct chatter)
(Whoosh)
Sean: Now that we have approval, the next step of the process is figuring out which inmates are suited for the program. Lot of the dinks in here, they’re going to sign up just for something to do. But there’s some guys… you don’t want to put a knife in their hands—
(Angry shouts)
Sean: ‘Scuse me— HEY, HEY! HEY, break it up—I SAID BREAAAK IT UP! C’mon! Urbano!
(Static crackling) (Indistinct)
Lisa: Fights like these are a dime a dozen at Oz. Sean and other C.Os break up countless scuffles throughout the day. It’s their job to keep the inmates in line.
Joseph Mineo: …Five, maybe six brawls a week? Try and keep up until seven. …Why? Lucky seven, I guess. Cafeteria and gym—that’s where we have the most inmates gathered. That’s where the most fights break out.
Lisa: But for the culinary lesson hopefuls, a clean quarterly disciplinary record is a requirement—an incentive to participate—to cook and eat higher quality foods—and to enjoy the excitement of the new prison program, which replaces the work schedule. Naturally, certain demographics are placed at an advantage. At the end of the selection process, nearly 80% of the program acceptees are inmates from Emerald City unit. But before Tim can even begin, new issues arise.
(Dramatic crescendo)
Charles “Chucky” Pancamo: This is our kitchen, is the problem, McManus! You expect us to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for eighteen hundred of these [bleep] with only half the usual work time?
Tim: Alright, look…
(Static crackling) (Crowd murmuring)
Tim: …Alright?
Chucky: Yeah, alright. Deal.
Lisa: With the kitchen staff now inducted into the pool of participants despite their disqualifying disciplinary records, there’s a new sense of uncertainty to the program, which has yet to even officially begin.
Tim: …Well, I’m feeling good about this. And hey, it actually makes sense to have our inmates on kitchen work detail be a part of the cooking program.
Chucky: That’s my kitchen. I’m in charge of it, and if McManus wants to use it for this [bleep]ing program, it’s my territory he’s walkin’ into.
(Indistinct chatter)
Tim: Now, obviously the aim of this program will be to have a friendly competition by the end of our test run, but before that, we actually need to teach you all a few basics. That’s why I’ve brought in Sloane—
(Cheers)
Tim: Alright—yes—okay, settle down! Sloane here will be leading us all through some basic cooking lessons and kitchen safety—
(Indistinct) (Cheers)
(Whoosh)
Sloane Murphy: I’m Sloane Murphy. I’m an instructor of Culinary Arts up at Genessee Technical College, and I’ve volunteered to help teach the inmates here at Oz the basics they’ll need to master before this cooking competition. To me, being able to teach these men to cook is an honor. I think everyone should have the know-how to prepare good food from scratch, and I think the guys in here could really benefit from the pride that comes with having and honing that skillset. …Yes, Sean’s my older brother.
(Indistinct chatter) (Static crackling)
Sean: …S’a [bleep] idea.
Lisa: Are you concerned about inmate retaliation…?
Sean: Huh? No, it’s not those dinks I’m worried about—what are they going to do? I mean, sure. Don’t want them to burn down the place, but—
Inmate: Yo, Murphy, your sister got a Prison Pals address?
(Tense percussion) (Crowd shouting)
Sloane Murphy: Am I worried about working at a prison? No. No, I’m not.
(Crowd shouting)
(Music)
Lisa: After a few hiccups in the program recruitment process, twenty-three inmates have finally been selected to participate in Oswald’s latest extracurricular. Their experience cooking ranges from complete novices to former line cooks with a leg up in the competition.
Sloane: Guerra, since you’ve worked in a professional kitchen before, I’d really love your help running our lessons. What do you say?
Carmen “Chico” Guerra: Yeah, I worked in a kitchen.
(Miguel: He’s fucking lying—)
(Click)
Miguel: Yo, his ass did not work in a kitchen!
Felipe: He cooks okay, though.
Miguel: Yeah, he won’t burn down the kitchen or nothing, but he didn’t work in a—
(Laughter)
Felipe: So why did he say he did?
Miguel: Shit, to be on TV, probably. Look at his face.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Has he seen this? The pilot?
Miguel: Nah. He remembers the—actually, when I told him about it, he thought I was talking about this earlier time, when Jack Eldridge did a special on Em City.
Felipe: Yeah, they never aired that, either. Do you-? Nah, you woulda been on the run.
(Laughter)
Miguel: Was probably getting caught at the time. Yeah, but he remembers both. Got a longer memory than me.
Felipe: …You keep in touch. I mean, I know that, but maybe the listeners right now are confused. He was paroled a couple months ago.
Miguel: Yeah, keep in touch.
(Cough)
Miguel: What?
(Throat clearing) (Laughter)
Miguel: Calláte…
(Rustling) (Knock)
Felipe: Ow! Hey—hey! I didn’t say nothing!
Miguel: …Saying enough, pendejo…
Felipe: …Hey, you’re in the background there.
(Click) (Click)
(Laughter)
Felipe: Damn…
Miguel: Yo, I was high as shit right there. Christ, look how fucking gray I am.
Felipe: Do you mind—what were you on?
Miguel: Yeah, this was 2006, so. This moment, right here? There was this guy—I can say this now, he ain’t around anymore—went out west, last I heard—Vegas—but he had an in on synthetics. Had these pills, called ‘em Destiny. D-tabs. It was, uh, MDMA, mostly.
Felipe: Really? …So is that how-?
Miguel: No! Fuck no. Way later.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Just asking, man. Man! Stop kicking me! This guy’s so petty, damn… It’s 2018, Miguel!
(Rustling)
(Indistinct)
Felipe: …Shit. Okay! So, you said you don’t really remember them filming this show, right?
(Throat clearing)
Miguel: Yeah, so, remember some of the cooking lessons, you know? But I was pretty out of it. Didn’t really start trying to get clean again ‘till a little after this. Been sober since.
Felipe: Hey, congratulations, though. You’ve gotten the-? Well, we ain’t gonna get into it right now. Maybe next time—don’t fucking groan at me! It’s okay I skipped ahead, right?
(Click)
Chico: —[Bleep]ing [bleep], as far as I’m [bleep]ing concerned.
(Whoosh)
(Murmurs) (Giggles)
(Door knock)
Sean: What’s going on in here?
Sloane: Oh, hey, Sean.
Tim: Sean, come over here. We’re selecting the groups for the competition. Laney suggested we break up the gangs and disperse them all between the groups.
Sean: Oh yeah?
(Suspicious crescendo)
Tim: Now that we’ve been able to hold a few basic cooking lessons, Sloane’s been able to assess the skill level of the inmates. With the upcoming competition, we’ve decided to start breaking everyone up into teams. They’ll be able to learn to cook as a team and as individuals, and then, as we approach the competition day, choose what dish they’ll cook and practice making it together.
(Whoosh)
Sloane: …Yeah, I rated each of the inmates according to their current skill level, and since Tim knows them better, he’s been helping me group them into teams.
Tim: We wanna make sure this is as peaceful of a competition as possible. The only problem right now is we have an odd number of participants, so…
Sean: Uh-huuuh…
Sloane: The question is whether to create larger teams with a few of the less-experienced cooks becoming redundant on those teams, or—
(Door knock)
(Indistinct)
Sister Pete: …Have a moment?
Tim: Yeah, come in. We could use your input, too, Sister. We’re working on the teams list for the cooking competition.
Sister Pete: That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like you to accept the O’Reilys into the cooking program.
(Dramatic impact)
Tim: Absolutely not.
Sister Pete: Tim…
Tim: No!
Sister Pete: Tim!
Tim: Forget it, Peter Marie, I am not letting Seamus or Ryan O’Reily into the program! Ryan’s track record completely disqualifies him from being a part of this. After everything he’s—
Sister Pete: He’s been nothing but an exemplary prisoner since his brother was executed, Tim… and he needs some kind of purpose! The sessions with his father have been going well, but the two need bonding time outside of counseling. They’re in different units, Tim. What other opportunities are there? Put your personal grudges aside—
(Scoffing)
Tim: Personal grudge?
Sister Pete: Tim.
(Indistinct)
(Click)
Felipe: What?
Miguel: Nah, you didn’t have anything to add. …Was just saying it’s so weird, seeing them in the staff room or whatever. You think you seen the whole fucking place after all those years, but it was only from one angle.
Felipe: Do you know what the nun’s talking about here? Personal grudge? …Listeners, Miguel.
Miguel: …Oh, sorry. Was shaking my head. Nah. Uh, you know, he, uh, was responsible for his brother—
Felipe: That guy who got executed?
Miguel: Yeah, last guy to get executed at Oz. He, uh, was in for killing the husband of the prison doctor. Nice lady. O’Reily—Ryan, I mean—he was in love with her or some shit. Told his brother to do it, and he did, ‘cause he was sort of slow. That’s all on record, too. Ain’t snitching or anything.
Felipe: Nah, of course not. Yo, that’s fucked up.
Miguel: Yeah, so, McManus, he never liked O’Reily, but he didn’t have a fucking reason to either, you know?
Felipe: What did you think about him?
Miguel: Didn’t cross paths too much—Oh, McManus?
Felipe: Yeah.
Miguel: He was okay. I mean. Helped with parole and shit. Had my back a couple times, getting me out of Solitary, too. But we all got our different opinions about the staff, you know? He wasn’t a hack, though, which made him okay in my book.
Felipe: ‘Cause some people say he’s like this genius, and other people say he’s a lame—he’s a poser and shit. You’re shrugging.
Miguel: He tries, you know? Ain’t gonna sugar coat it, though. A lotta people died in Oz, and it wasn’t all just gang wars and shit. Blame’s gotta go somewhere.
Felipe: And there’s that—you know, with all the stuff going on these days. He had two, you know, sexual assault accusations back in the day.
Miguel: Shit, forgot about that. Nah, I don’t know. How—well, I don’t know. I didn’t see nothing strange in that way—not with him. Compared to other shit use to go on? Nah.
Felipe: He kinda seems like he wants to bang this instructor lady, though. You think he-?
Miguel: Nah, I’ll tell you what, though. Murphy and…
Felipe: Oh yeah! Wait, hold on. Lemme Google it. …Shit, yeah, Lisa Logan married his ass. Sean Murphy. Married in 2008. Huh. She directed “Fend For Yourself”. You see that? I think I sent it to you.
Miguel: Nah… S’depressing, bro. Nah.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Yeah, guess so. But anyone out there—great documentary. Okay, that’s enough. People are probably like “hurry it the fuck up”...
Miguel: Hurry it the fuck up…
(Click)
Sister Pete: Tim. After everything O’Reily has been through, he’s at a place in his life where he’s now most receptive to any effort to rehabilitate him. He needs this positive change. Are you really going to deny him a chance at self-betterment because you don’t believe he can change?
Tim: It’s not about what I—that’s—
Sloane: Adding two more inmates to the program would solve our numbers problem, Tim. I don’t mind taking on extra participants.
Tim: Sean, help me out here!
Sean: It’s a cooking class, Tim. O’Reily’s worked in the kitchen before. What’s the worst that could happen?
(Whoosh) (Indistinct chatter)
Tobias Beecher: Ah, [bleep]. What are you two doing here?
Ryan O’Reily: Getting territorial there, Beech?
Lisa: Prisoner number 97P904, Ryan O’Reily. Convicted July 12, 1997, two counts of vehicular manslaughter, five counts of reckless endangerment, possession of a controlled substance, criminal possession of a weapon, and parole violation. Convicted December 18, 1998, one count conspiracy to commit murder. Sentence: life, eligible for parole in 2038… With countless disciplinary infractions over the years, he’s a far cry from the candidate Tim is looking for in this program. But personal tragedy has left O’Reily in a dispirited state that Sister Reimondo, the prison psychologist, believes will make him a good pupil in Sloane’s culinary class. His father, Seamus O’Reily, was convicted three years ago on murder in the first degree, and will be up for parole in 2019. With Reimondo as mediator, the two have been reconciling a once turbulent father-son relationship.
Ryan: Yeah, you know, he wasn’t the best dad, but who is? …I’m looking forward to this. Yeah, I love cooking. Dad does, too. Like the sister said. This’ll be good for us.
(Metallic clang)
Seamus O’Reily: [Bleep]’s sake, Ryan!
Zahir Arif: You can’t keep making a mess like this, O’Reily.
Seamus: Who’s making a mess, [bleep]?
Sloane: Oookay, please. Seamus, put the knife down. Zahir, are you alright?
Zahir: Yeah, fine.
(Whoosh)
Zahir: O’Reily is a menace. Always has been, always will be. What happened to his brother is unfortunate, but not unexpected. Frankly, what happened to Cyril was Ryan. And seeing Seamus, it’s no surprise that Ryan is the way he is. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. …I admire Sister Reimondo’s belief in the O’Reilys, though. After all, the Qur’an teaches us that there are enemies even among our families, but we must forgive them, and with her counseling, they are meeting each other as father and son. I don’t see why that means the rest of us should have to be subjected to their antics, though.
(Chopping)
Tobias: Get lost, O’Reily.
Ryan: Yeah, no deal. About what I said yesterday. Have you thought—
(Indistinct) (Throat clearing)
Ryan: What? What are you looking at? Christ, would you get that camera out of my face?
(Indistinct)
Tobias: No, I don’t trust him. Have you seen him? I love Sister Pete, but I don’t believe O’Reily’s as… well-behaved as she would like to believe. …Which one do you think I’m talking about?
(Whoosh)
Chucky: Hey, McManus, how come we ain’t got any a’ these spices for regular meal service, eh?
Frank “Fiona” Zonioni: …Ew, why’s this potato all green and stuff?
(Giggles)
Chico: I don’t know, just keep peeling it. Can’t be green all the way through. [Bleep]’s sake, Miguel. Gimme that.
Reggie Rawls: …This look okay to you?
Arnold “Poet” Jackson: Yo, that is raw, man.
(Laughter)
Sean: Hey, hey! Settle down over there!
(Indistinct murmur)
Sloane: …As I’m walking around the room, I want to remind you, we will have the chance to eat the food at the end of the hour, so please don’t eat as you go—Chico, put that carrot down—yes, thank you.
(Miguel: Half the time we never had time to eat at the end. I do remember that, actually.)
(Laughter)
(Felipe: So you guys were just scarfing it down as you went?)
Miguel Alvarez: …Cooking’s fun. I think it’s… you know, it’s a great idea. Some a’ these [bleep] don’t [bleep]ing know how to… Ahahaha… you know?
(Miguel: Christ.)
Sean: These dinks are fooling around. I’m seeing ‘em waving knives, running with pots of hot water, and I’m thinking “Oh, [bleep], what are we doin’ here?” It’s month one of the culinary program and the fact that we’ve already seen one cutting board accident isn’t boding too well, I’ll tell ya that. My sis, she sees the best in people ‘cause she doesn’t expect the worst. That ain’t the case in this line of work.
Joseph: There’s been a couple of incidents so far, yes, but what do you expect, trusting these animals with the cutlery? The Italians, now, we can trust them to have some respect for the kitchen. It’s the others I’m keeping my eye on the most.
Sloane: Are the inmates goofing off? I think it’s to be expected. This is a time of learning as well as a kind of creative outlet. The men are starting to realise what possibilities there are for them in the kitchen more than anything, and I think as our lessons continue, we’ll see them really start to focus and begin taking real pride in their work. …Plus, NewStar Productions has generously agreed to donate some machinery that I think the inmates will really enjoy.
(Excited murmur)
Sloane: Good afternoon, gentlemen. You’ve probably noticed by now that we’ve been lucky enough to purchase an ice cream machine. This week as we focus on dessert basics, every group is going to have a chance to create a flavor of ice cream of their choosing.
(Cheers)
Sloane: But first: an important question before we start any kind of baking: does anyone know the difference between baking powder and baking soda?
(Lone cough)
Sloane: Yes—Kiki! Thank you, what do you think?
Kevin “Kiki Faye” Downing: You can’t make crack with baking powder.
(Intrigued murmur)
Reggie: Nerd.
Miguel: D’you know that?
Sloane: Haha, well, I don’t know about that, but…
(Indistinct) (Laughter) (Clapping)
(Whoosh)
Joseph: Sloane’s a wonderful woman. I just think she’s spoiling these [bleep].
Sloane: I’m really satisfied with how things are going so far. You know, there’s been ups and downs—
(Scream)
(Inmate: My fucking finger!)
(Spitting)
(Metallic crash)
(Tobias: For the love of all that is holy, Ryan—)
(Laughter) (Jeers)
Sloane: But by and by, I think we’re onto something here. To be honest, I was a little nervous coming into here, but the more I’ve gotten to know these men, the more I’ve been able to recognise that little seed of humanity in all of them. Tim’s been a wonderful resource through this journey so far as well…
(Murmurs) (Giggles)
(Dramatic impact)
Sloane: …and I’m just… really, really looking forward to seeing where this will go.
(Bass)
Man: Next week on “Oz”... Inmates are officially split into the teams for the final competition. Tim’s patience is put to the test…
(Tim: It’s fucking unacceptable, people!)
(Shattering)
(Sloane: Tim!)
(Poet: Yo…)
Man: …And inmate Pancamo makes a pesky discovery!
(Hissing) (Squeaking)
(Chucky: Aw, [bleep]ing rats!)
(Dramatic impact)
Man: …Plus, tensions rise as inmates decide what dishes to prepare for the competition.
(Ryan: Forget the fucking french fries, dad!)
(Dramatic crescendo)
(Metallic clatter)
(Zahir: If we want to make the ice cream, the appetiser needs to be simpler! We won’t have enough time!)
(Chucky: …because pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza, [bleep]!)
(Crash) (Dramatic impact) (Zing)
(Sloane: Oh my God…)
(Tim: Sean! Sean, come back here!)
(Dramatic impact)
(Ryan: Everything’s going tits up around here…)
(Dramatic impact)
(Seamus: …Then the gloves are [bleep]ing coming off.)
(Gasping)
(Fiona: Ooh, that is ghastly…)
(Reggie: Tell me about it…)
(Dramatic impact)
Man: …Join us next week at 7/6 Central, here at WYAT, coming to you after Action Three At Five!
(Swanky exotica)
(Click)
Felipe: Did that stir up any memories or what? I mean, that was… kinda freaky, right? Looking back, knowing how O’Reily ended up dying.
Miguel: Was pretty bad. But I tell ya, there’s been some pretty fucked up deaths at Oz.
Felipe: What’re you saying, a guy getting dunked face-first into a deep fryer don’t crack the top ten?
Miguel: Definitely the top ten. Maybe. Blurs together, you know? Nah, definitely top ten, though, ‘cause I was actually there for it—sort of. Remember the smell after, anyway.
Felipe: Eugh…
(Groaning) (Laughter)
Felipe: So what’s good with you these days?
(Laughter)
Felipe: Nah, but really, how many more episodes were there supposed to be? I mean, do you know? So far, this is the only one that’s resurfaced. Only one that was broadcasted, apparently. They didn't do the final competition live?
Miguel: Nah. Walked back on that. But they filmed up to then, so… rest a’ that shit’s probably sitting in evidence somewhere, goin’ cold.
Felipe: So it’s true there are no suspects? There was a whole TV crew!
Miguel: Yeah, everyone was looking at the fire in the opposite direction. Me, too. Didn’t see nothing.
Felipe: But I bet you got your guess.
Miguel: Nah. I mean, you know. Coroner said ole Seamus was knockin’ back the cooking wine, he was knockin’ it back. That I remember.
Felipe: Then it could’ve been an accident after all?
Miguel: Shiiit. Maybe.
Felipe: I'm just gonna call it. I think it was murder. I think the son did it. I think Ryan did it. You can see even in that episode, dude hates the old man's guts. There was a stove fire on the other side of the room, right?
Miguel: Yep.
Felipe: Yo, so I think he shoved the old man down and let the sauce do the rest. Gravity takes the dude right down. Face first into the oil, man. That's what I think.
Miguel: Yeah, you can say that, man. Lotta people agree.
Felipe: You don't?
(Laughter)
Miguel: Don't got shit to do with me so I don't have an opinion.
Felipe: Hm, oh, I see. Maybe that's wise. You playing it safe, huh? But how bad do you gotta hate a guy to kill him over some fries? Your father, too?
Miguel: Yeah, we ain't got the expertise in that arena, though.
(Laughter)
Felipe: No. No we do not...
(Music)
Felipe: That’s riiight, that’s right, assholes. It’s ad read time. Hope you’re liking this conversation, ‘cause there’s still more to come. But first I need to remind you all about Dyad. Dyad!
(Sigh)
Miguel: Dyad? What’s that?
Felipe: You might get a kick outta this actually. Dyad is a relationship app for couples to learn more about their partners and strengthen their emotional bond and shit. This ain’t no incel alpha-loser podcast, okay? Men out there—or women—there’s nothing sexier than taking a real interest in your other half, whoever that is, okay? Trust me. With Dyad, you and your partner have a variety of different daily games and activities to choose from to deepen your connection and increase your communication. There’s also this daily question feature where you each get asked a question from a range of different topics and you can’t see the other person’s answer ‘till you put in your own. Yo, I ain’t kidding, it’s one a’ those conversation starters that’ll get you talking about shit you might never have talked about otherwise. Me and Naya got this question the other day… What was it… oh yeah. “What’s one thing you always wanted to ask the other but never have and why not?”
Miguel: Yeah, so what was it?
Felipe: Ain’t telling you… Get Dyad yourself and try it out with [bleep]. OW! …Dyad Premium will unlock their entire library of topics, such as conflict, communication, finance, hell, even the sexier topics—you know what I mean. It’s got something for everyone, whether you’re a new couple or been together for forever. Use code FELIPE100 when you buy Dyad Premium. That’s F-E-L-I-P-E for you dunces out there. You know I love you.
(Laughter)
Felipe: Okay, back to the episode.
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HE'S GETTING OUT!!
submitted 11 hours ago by _ThorntonGurl in r/SBtF
https://www.nypsdoccslookup.docc.ny.gov/#/97P904
He’s scheduled for release 01/08/2022!
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smokestack404 113 points 11h ago (Edited 9h ago)
Chat is this real 😬
EDIT: Action 3 just reported on his conviction getting overturned so I guess it must be true
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_ThorntonGurl 78 points 11h ago
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gertaherta 13 points 11h ago
😭 tomanus isn’t real it cant hurt you
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loudly_spiralling_again 49 points 11h ago
Do. Not. Breech. The. Peace. Treaty.
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EvilDaughterFalseWoman 44 points 10h ago
We live in the stupidest timeline...
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USHW101 59 points 11h ago
Here's to hoping he's changed his ways. Ngl, glad I don't live in the area.
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marriedJJane 21 points 11h ago
Evelyn Peters is going to have a field day.
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marginalbottom 15 points 11h ago
Todd McEnerny plotting how to rack focus as we speak
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StigmataLicker 13 points 11h ago
Probably gonna put out another prison cookbook 🙄
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PoorJackieJ 11 points 11h ago
He should do one with all the dishes they were going to make in "Oz". I'd buy that ngl
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FFS_Schibetta 9 points 11h ago
Felipe Fierro already posted what Group B was going to do and Hannah V got parts of Group C's from her interview with Poet Jackson... We know Group A had french fries in there somewhere 💀
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pool_sama 9 points 9h ago
I'm just waiting for u/HannahVeeee to get on stream and react lmao
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pool_sama 5 points 9h ago
She's live!!
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NewMoldCity 7 points 11h ago
OP, were you registered for notification at his release?? This went live 30m ago
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Tarikmann -4 points 11h ago
Wonder what Beecher’s thinking right around now
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perspirations 14 points 11h ago
You know they made that up for the Netflix show, right?
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FenwayFrankIndulgence 3 points 5h ago
The gay conspiracy theorists need to learn we don’t condone that bullshit here.
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_ThorntonGurl 4 points 5h ago
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MissSinD 0 points 5h ago
Eh, doesn't hurt anybody
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FenwayFrankIndulgence 2 points 5h ago
Doesn’t “hurt” anybody? Have you conveniently forgotten the fact that these are real people and both of them have in fact hurt people? Cathy Rockwell ring a bell? Nora Bernstein? Matt Nayar? The five city workers O’Reily severely injured? The Nathans? Have you forgotten what he “allegedly” (we all know it was him) did to his own father? What he did to his brother? At least Beecher has been out for years and consistently gives back to the community, but I find it really creepy how true crime “fans” (yes, fans of crime!) get obsessed and lose sight of the not insignificant violence involved. You watch one movie or Netflix show and suddenly you can’t critically think anymore. No, now these guys who have killed people and ruined lives are your special boys you think you can fix. O’Reily should NOT be released and the fact that he has been is evidence that the justice system is a joke. The fact that there are people like you making light of it because of your stupid shipping agenda is evidence that YOU are a joke.
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MissSinD 1 point 4h ago
Way to put words in my mouth. Did I say any of that or did you read into four measly words like a psycho? Also, don’t make me laugh - this is literally a sub dedicated to a movie about those criminals. Take a look at the fucking main page: there’s literally shirtless pics of Daniel upvoted up the wazoo along with people thirsting after the real Luis Alvarez’s mugshot. All you have to do is post throwbacks of Alvarez and his boyfriend at that dog fundraiser with Daniel and DeShawn and you’ll get a dozen karma, easy… OP is an Eddie Thornton/Brian O’Reily fangirl. You might take a look around. The call is coming from inside the house, Fenny!
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ultraviolenceBeauty 3 points 6h ago
The show which Beecher consulted on? That show?
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perspirations 7 points 6h ago
He said he consulted on some of the details of Oz. It's not like he had any say on the storylines.
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ultraviolenceBeauty 2 points 6h ago
Yeah, but he knew Tommy was based on him so if he really had a problem with it, he could have said something and had it taken out. Especially because the show was marketed as being based on what happened at Oz.
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perspirations 2 points 5h ago
That is not how TV consulting works, honey.
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IrishAmericanSociopathicHoodlum -2 points 11h ago
They've let out worse people...
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FenwayFrankIndulgence 14 point 10h ago
Have they? 🙃
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AdeBeastie 1 point 9h ago
If they do their time, we should just back off & let them live their lives
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FenwayFrankIndulgence 14 point 10h ago
He didn’t do his time and he hasn’t been proven innocent. He’s getting released on a technicality. He’s still a danger to society.
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AdeBeastie 2 point 8h ago
What are u going to do about it, Frank? All I see is u up and down this thread crawling up everyone’s asshole about it. It’s not like any of us had anything to do with it in the first place! We’re all just commenting on it like u!
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TT_Ornery 6 points 4h ago
PLEASE NOBODY BOTHER THE CAST ABOUT THIS!! ESPECIALLY EDDIE! HE HAS HIS OWN CAREER. HE’S AN ACTOR AND HE DOESN’T NEED CRAZY FANGIRLS ALWAYS ASKING HIM ABOUT THE PEOPLE HE’S PLAYED.
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rufiohsselfesteem 8 points 8h ago
idk how i feel about this
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InfiniteChocolateBunny 4 point 9h ago
Man, I just want to watch the rest of that reality show they scrapped.
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Ty_nxt 2 points 3h ago
You and me both sis
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InfiniteChocolateBunny 2 points 3h ago
Omggg, I just realized who you were!
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Ty_nxt 1 point 3h ago
😅 Yep, still lurking around here.
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InfiniteChocolateBunny 1 point 48m ago
Did you see the thing Zahir Arif just posted about RO getting out?? He said his team finally got a copy of the tapes from the WYAT lawyers!!
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Ty_nxt 1 point 25m ago
👀👀👀 No! Where? Is he reopening the case? If anyone was going to, it'd be him... What's the likelihood of him submitting all the episodes as evidence?
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InfiniteChocolateBunny 1 point 13m ago
On his Substack!! Haha, that would be a dream come true for all of us.
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Ty_nxt 1 point 0s ago
Hoooooly shit. Maybe we'll get to watch all of Oz after all 🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾