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What’s going on?  How is everyone?  I know that I told you that I would writ once a month just to let you know that I’m alright and give you guys an update on what’s been going on with me and I haven’t.  I don’t really have any good excuse.  things have been kind of hectic the last couple months and especially the last couple of weeks.  It’s finals time and I just finished writing all of my papers.  Whew – I’m glad that they'[re pretty much over.

So, I’m going to get right to the elephant in the room.  I can’t imagine that you guys are unaware of the court’s decision to deny my appeals and all the news coverage that I’ve been getting in the last couple of months.  Yes, I got shot down but no, it’s not my final appeal.  I don’t know why the DA said that it was my final appeal.  That is far from the truth.  In fact I was thinking about writing to the Kennebec Journal and talking about a lot of information that Betty Adams gave that was incorrect.  I wrote the letter, typed it up and everything and I just haven’t sent it out.  To be honest, I”m a little nervous, every time they put me in the papers or on the news I feel like shit, but at the same time I know that it is something that is needed.  I know, I know, you guys are probably like, “What are you talking about?”  WEll, let me explain.

Right now for all intents and purposes I am a political prisoner.  They, the State and everybody involved know that I should not be doing all this time.

[Editor’s note: Sentencing guidelines in Maine: Manslaughter 1–20 years, Felony Murder (killing someone while in the commission of a crime) 1-30 years, and for regular ol’ Murder, it’s Life without parole or no less than 25 years. Snax.]

They know that I should get re-sentenced at the very least and really should get a new trial, but as long as public opinion is on their side and there is nothing making them fix the situation, they won’t.  Look and what happened with my man Tony Sanbourn.  He did 27 years and they know that he didn’t do it.  It took his girl staying on them to make them admit that the witness had lied and look at the rest of the shit that is coming to light.  for me, I don’t have that right now; I don’t have a “someone.”.  They can trash me in the newspapers and on the news and it is what it is.  But, at the same time I know that I have people who believe in me out there and the more time that goes by and the more you see people getting way less time for murder and all that, people will start asking questions.  Like, why is Fortune swerving life sentences for accomplice liability?  Or, when the news reporter says that Leo admitted to the attacks but is doing fifty years.  anyways, though, yes, I am OK. Yes, I was hurt and upset when I heard about it.  Yes, I should have reached out to you guys and let you guys know what was going on , but sometimes it’s hard to explain what it is I’m going through when it is what I’ going through.  I still know that I am coming home but it is not going to be right now.  All I can do is to continue to grow and make the best of my time here.  That means concentrating on school and working every day to be the best me that I can be.

On that note, school is pretty much done for the semester.  Like I mentioned earlier, I just finished writing a sixteen page paper on genocide for my history class.  Genocide is a crazy subject; it’s hard to wrap my mind around wanting to annihilate and entire race, or group of people.  Yet, history is littered with genocides.  The two that I chose to wrote about were the ones in Armenia and Rwanda.  Did you guys know that in Rwanda almost a million people were killed in around 100 days?  That’s crazy and the US did nothing.  The movie “Hotel Rwanda” is base don what happened in 1994.  I have ti watch it again.  As for the Armenian genocide, while Roosevelt was the President, he said that the Armenian genocide was the worst crime of the whole war.

My other class was philosophy.  Yeah, that’s right – I’m now a philosopher.  Haha!  Nah, it was a really good class.  I learned just how much I don’t know.  The best thing I learned was the need to ask questions.  There cannot be a value on one asking questions in order to find ones answers for oneself, not settling for what we are being told.  So what happens when we run into questions that we cannot answer,m or if we are in a situation where it looks or feels hopeless?  For me this is why Allah and hope are the most important things in my life.  Both my life and the history of the world are littered with mistakes and “no-win” situations, but this is only possible because we refuse to stay beaten and accept things the way they are.

Philosophy has taught me that I must continue to search for my answers yet understand that some questions cannot be answered, and a lot of situations are beyond my control.  That does not mean that I must curl up and give up.  With hope and faith I can and will not be broken by any circumstances that I face.  I have the tools to make any situation better and endure.  There is a reason why miracles are so special.  It’s because they are beyond human purview.  They are not meant to be understood or explained.  Yet are miracles possible without faith and hope?

In moments like this I think on the Serenity Prayer: “Lord, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.”  This class has reinforce my faith and hope by making me realize how much I don’t know by extension how much humanity doesn’t know.  It is because of how small my world and life is that I have been reminded just how strong and powerful hope and faith is.

Alright, I’m about to wrap this up.  Know that  you  guys stay on my mind.  If you ever need to vent on paper, or need advice, or if any of you are even considering making a bad choice, please drop me a line first:

M.S.P.                                                                                                                                                          Daniel Fortune, #86753                                                                                                                           807 Cushing Road                                                                                                                                    Warren, Maine 04864-4600

Remember – I believe in y’all.

As I am,



Have you ever had a time when everyday you wake up and you feel you are in a bad dream you never wake up from?  Let me start from the the day my nightmares started.

I had the best life I could ever ask for.  I had the family I’d always dreamed of – a great wife, great kids, had my dream job.  No, I didn’t make a lot of money, but I still had it great.

I woke up one morning like always, didn’t feel as anything was wrong.  But an hour after waking up there is a knock on my front door when my wife opened the door there were 12 Federal agents asking for me and beginning to search my house for a crime I didn’t commit.

After a day of searching I ended up in handcuffs and going to trial on this crime I never did.  I now sit here in Federal Prison on these charges hoping that, God willing, my only hope – the appeal – goes good.

Now, you see how all of this all started.  My bad dream only keeps getting worse.  Now, as I could say this is the first blog from federal prison, and most people don’t know how bad it all is.

You have cops who don’t care how or why you ended up here, most of all you are a new pawn in their chess game.  They treat you as a child who doesn’t know anything.  But you still don’t get a chance to learn anything, for these programs are a joke.

You heard the old saying, “kids should be seen and not heard?”  Well, inmates are the same.  Hell, when it comes to contact of your friends and family you get 300 minutes of phone time that have the time you can never get through.

Then when you do, your family could care less if you call or not, for, yeah, they’ve got it made, for their life keeps going.  As for an inmate’s life it stops. For you you do the same thing everyday.

I had a job (if you could call it that) my pay was only 12 cents an hour.  Now if you don’t work as they say then you end up in the “hole” for they treat everyone as a slave.  they don’t care.

Here is where we end this entry. for now.  I will do part two very soon  I hope everyone enjoys this series of entries.  If anyone would like to comment or even know more details they can write me at:

Joel Dudley / reg. #07499-036 / FCI Otisville / PO box 1000 / Otisville, NY 10963 / United States of America

I would be glad to respond to any letter I receive for now this is the only way to be heard on this justice system we have and can’t fix.


Father Joel Dudley, ULC


What’s really good?

Things have been kinda hectic  here lately.  Long story short: people don’t realize that “real” muhfuckers live and die behind/over words.  Somebody said something and it had to be dealt with.  The person who said it was not prepared for the level of violence that the words caused.  So their friends stepped in so I stepped in for my man.  It was a bad situation for a while.  God forgive me but the adrenaline made me feel so alive.  Everything seems so much, well, “more: when you’re on that tightrope between life and peace on one side, and bloodshed and pain on the other.

Racial tensions here are sky-high.  I imagine it’s only a matter of time before there’s a race riot.  There is so much ignorance and prejudice here.  There’s prejudice on both sides, but in defense of the brothers, most of the whites they come in contact with are either outright racist or so ignorant of black culture that their comments and actions seem racist.  I have been blessed to have met so many amazing white people that I have been unpleasantly surprised about half the population up here.  Anyway, that’s neither here not there, just the events of the past week have brought it all back into the spotlight.

As I am,


Waiting to get transferred for three months now; trying to get closer to home, practically been begging to get closer to see my ailing parents.  Mom is 65 and Dad is 80 and I haven’t seen them for almost a year due to their health.  Why do we have to go through such ignorance?  One of my parents could die and I would never get the chance to talk to them again, all cause I had to wait on a stupid list.  I say I should be put on the top and taken care of for medical reasons, but no, they would have to die for them to do anything.

What kind of people are they?


We pray for all of the men who have passed through our circle on their journey to the free world.

I’m not chief of the group; far from it.  I play the drum and sing.  I will not conduct a smudge because the evil sister insists on mixing the bowl.  I will instruct the guys on how to do it, but I will only burn a bowl that I mix mix myself.  It’s all good; they all want to do it anyway.

The librarian thing is the least I can do to protect Two Thunder’s and Rolling Thunder’s books.

We will be having a sweat lodge in mid-April.  “Quiet Thunder” is Cikte Petak in Passamaquoddy, pronounced “Cha-gid Bed-ag”; very  cool.  This will be my fourth sweat lodge, so I am getting a spirit name.  This will also be my last four day fast (4×4).

We have no crafts, now.  None.  The sister claims to have no time and no money for it (?)  That sucks for the new guys, but, it keeps the bead thieves at bay.


Quiet Thunder ~

I’m fucking stuck behind the fucking wall!  I don’t know if I can get back to the dorms!  If something don’t go right for me soon, I will have a good blog for you :-)

I got to pray more, I guess.

I am worried.

I am struggling in the girl department.

I feel lost, a little bit.


Today’s my birthday. I’m 32. Q.T. gave me an awesome card. Sux cause there’s a build-up before holiday events and then in a second they’re over and done with.

I’m in the gym right now; I’m pumping iron. Pushing my bench way up. Just took a minute to lay down and listen to CSN and reflect on life. My IOP lady is Sue. She’s written some unsavory things about me in my reviews which I didn’t appreciate.

I’ll expect the worse.

I love life and everything it has to offer, but my sickness is my addictive personality and the need to constantly do something that’s existing and makes me get butterflies in my stomach.  Like carrying a gun, fighting, drugs, b&e’s, stealing or how about this:  sky diving, playing music in front of large groups of people (riot grrls and others) and the making of good music and shit.  Just a good jam session gets me feeling like that.  I don’t get embarrassed, but I love that adrenaline rush of being nervous and happy and vulnerable with music and in fronts  of people who are expecting good music to come out.  I love it.

I was a functional alcoholic.  I was drunk three years and geeked out for 2 1/2 years  for  everything.  School, work, around the house, during my gigs at parties, recordings at my house.  But I smoked about a pack a day from 9 ½ years old to about 11.  Then it was two packs average.  Until I was like 15, doing pills and large amounts of booze and speed, then it  was maybe three or four nights a week, specially when the meth came in at 18-20.  I mixed it up with adderall 30mg, and my boys  dextros (70 mg) into one big mortar andpestlel grind, ’til it was one big pile of powder.  Then I’d geek out for a week and ½ at a time, sometimes more, depending on how much meth I sold.

I’ll be fine when I get out.  I hope.

Thanks for the shout-out on MPG.  That was cool.  Isaac really gave us quite a bit of airplay.  Last week it was announced that he will be out until January, which sucks.  The Bollywood India music show is taking his slot until then.  I have been playing guitar again now that night rec is over.  In D-2 we cannot play in our rooms, or outside, only out back if we have four people. I’ve got three or four original things I’ve been working on.  It’s a lot different without Jo-Joe La Beau here. He’s doing good.

The sweat lodge was postponed; we have no date as of yet.  I gave the Spidermoon volunteers sacks of native corn from our garden.  A small token of our appreciation.  All of the feathers and beads that were around the gazebo were getting ratty.  The cornstalks got composted and mixed into the soil.  The feathers did too.  I separated the beads into their colors and buried them in the directions around the gazebo.  We expanded the garden 1 & ½ feet, added vegetative matter and compost and turned the soil to loosen it up some.  The beads are mixed in the soil.  A clean start above ground, and the thoughts and intentions will feed next years corn.  I have all the seed corn safely stashed in my drum bag in the chaplain’s office.

I am in really good shape lately.  I run a lot, eat healthy, do yoga and a medium intensity weight room routine.  I feel really good.  I’ve got abs again!  And very little body fat.  I just want to look good naked.

Lot’s of changes around here.  The new commissioner is shaking things up.  I will adjust eventually, but I am not good with change.

Take care, my friends, and create beauty in this world.  That is our true purpose.

Love ya,


Things in the dorm are okay.  Lots of rats.  That’s one thing I hate about it here.

I haven’t done cardio in a while.  Been just weight lifting.  Gained some fat in the meantime.  But as spring gets here I’ll burn some of it off.  I get out the last of June and I am going to Portland.  There’s a boarding house on Cumberland Ave.  just across from the high school.  Not exactly the best location, but I’ll make due.

Taking IOP – the trainer’s a psycho.  She said I’m sarcastic and I put a negative twist on things.  Nice thing to say.

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Political Prisoners

Welcome to the blog from inmates of Maine's jails and prisons.

In collaboration with the Holistic Recovery Project, the Political Prisoners Blog provides a prisoner's view into what's happening at Maine's correctional facilities.

Only your vigilance on the outside can guarrentee that justice goes on on the inside.

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