Bamboozled Read online

  Joey skipped breakfast again in the morning, and found himself staring at a long haired biker named Gypsy in front of his cell. Gypsy claimed he was from the Hell’s Angels and a friend of Luigi. Joey questioned him until he mentioned 1978, Lancaster, and him beating the ass of one of his bros. Gypsy smiled and extended his hand, explaining that the club is doing business with Luigi and the family, and that he would have Joey’s back in the day room. Gypsy told Joey the light was called off as a parting gesture, as someone sent him a message saying “Danny has a knife.” Joey felt he had to go to the day room or lose face.

  As Joey walked into the day room, he says someone informed him the light was off but that he wasn’t going to do anything if it was on. “Bullshit, you fools would have killed me!” Joey says he yelled. He turned on the TV to watch Arguello fight Ganigan as an older man changed the channel. Joey attacked him and a knife clunked to the floor. A biker announced “Let them be.” Joey beat him until his hands hurt and kicked the body until his white tennis shoes were covered in blood. Gypsy whispered, “enough,” as Joey began pissing on him. An hour later Joey was back in his cell when the guards arrived to put him in solitary confiment.

  Even inside prison, Joey was able to continue using cocaine and was transferred to the mental health unit at Vacaville in 1982. After all of the damage to his brain from cocaine and boxing, he was flagged as mentally unstable.

  It was a particularly low point, even for Joey. He worked as a clerk in the Captain’s office with receiving and release. Joey settled in—looking forward to his appeal. Technology in medicine was improving and his knee would not need to be replaced.

  Charlie Manson was living in the cell block next to Joey’s. Charlie would go visiting on the weekend with different women and bring back “screaming weed.” Joey says Charlie would play guitar as they sat around and smoked, while Joey drew sports scenes and athletes. Joey figured that Charlie pretended to be crazy. When someone wanted to interview him, he’d look at the guards and declare “showtime!” and make different faces, asking which was the craziest. He would occasionally go from cell to cell, purchasing a TV for anyone who didn’t have one.

  On October 15 Joey was leaving work at the Captain’s office when old time sergeant Richard Barajas pulled him aside and asked him to watch Adela Maria Esparza, a rookie guard being trained, who was assigned to Joey’s cell block. He instructed that if she needs help, Joey should look out for her. After a fight in the gym, Joey was headed to take a shower when he heard her screaming. Joey returned to the office to find a crowd of 15-20 inmates yelling, laughing, punching her in the face, and tearing her clothes.

  Joey pushed his way through and began beating on one ringleader who had been punching her in the face. Then he picked up a phone and later an old cast iron mop ringer to “baptize” the man beating her. After the man was passed out, Joey scared away the crowd, locked the room, and hit the emergency button. When security arrived, Joey claims that they began beating him after seeing the passed out Esparza. When Officer Esparza finally woke up she told them what had actually happened.

  Joey had violated an unwritten rule of the prison. You don’t ever side with your captors. Joey was marked—Boxer from 18th with mob ties who never helps his captors, had done exactly that.

  Corrections typically keep a list of inmates and their enemies, in order to separate them, but Joey ran into Morgan, who had led the assault on Officer Esparza, the following evening. A shadowy figure attacked Joey from behind. He woke up days later in the Hospital with a plate in his head.

  Joey was sent to Vacaville Medical Center and a report was filed by the officer who sent him to protect Ms. Esparza. Joey, wanting to prevent future attacks and to spite the guards, filed a lawsuit over negligence and the scars on his face. The prison system arranged his transfer to California Men’s Colony.

  He now lived across the hall from Larry Singleton—who had kidnapped a little girl in Riverside, raped and cut off her arms, and left her by a ditch, but was somehow currently being paroled. Joey had read that the girl’s family was awarded a million dollars, and when Joey informed Singleton of this, he supposedly replied, “Yeah, but she can’t count it.”

  On Fridays, in his new environment, the Army boxing team would visit the prison gym to box with him. At 23, Joey felt he should have been peaking as a fighter, but his career was shot.

  AFFIDAVIT OF ADELA MARIA ESPARZA

  I began working at California Medical Facility in Vacaville, CA as a correctional officer on October 8, 1982. My duties included the supervision of inmates classified as psychotics in remission. Before working at CMF, I worked at the California Institute for Men, in Chino, for eighteen months, also as a correctional officer.

  I make this statement on behalf of Joey Torres, who saved my life at CMF.

  On October 15, 1982, after one week of orientation, I began my first day of supervising Wing P-3 on the psych unit. Shortly after my shift began, an inmate named Thomas Morgan started following me and making comments. Throughout the evening, Morgan became increasingly menacing and bizarre in his behavior toward me. I called his behavior to the attention of my direct supervisor, Sgt. Parker. After a brief meeting, Sgt. Parker determined that Mr. Morgan posed no threat and refused to take any action.

  Because Morgan continued in his bizarre behavior, I also advised Officer Barajas (a supervisor of another wing on the same shift) of Morgan’s disruptive behavior. Officer Barajas indicated that he would occasionally check to see how I was doing. Officer Barajas said that if I got into trouble, I could count on inmate Torres because, “He is a good inmate.” Joey Torres also reassured me that if I got into trouble, he would back me up.

  Again, I complained to my supervisor of Morgan’s continued and increasingly menacing behavior. I requested Morgan either be moved or locked up in his cell. He denied this request.

  At one point, I heard Morgan say under his breath that he was “going to kill” me.

  As I began to direct all inmates back into their cells at lock up time, through a pass window, I looked up and the next thing I knew, Morgan punched me in the face with such force that my teeth were loosened, my mouth lacerated and my face bloodied. Morgan came into the room, stood over me, and attempted to hit me again. I was only semi-conscious but managed to kick his groin area and began screaming. He proceeded to attack me again. Although there were a number of inmates surrounding us by that time, only Torres intervened to stop Morgan’s attack.

  At Chino, the alarm button is located on the hip area. Because I was unfamiliar with the placement of the newer alarm button, I reached for my hip area. Torres yelled out to remind me that the button was located in my chest pocket. I was then able to alert other officers of my need for assistance.

  It is my belief that inmate Morgan had every intention of killing me. Had it not been for Torres’ intervention. I believe that Morgan would have killed me or caused serious bodily harm. Torres saved my life and averted a potentially volatile situation in which other inmates could have become disruptive.

  That evening, I reported the events to Officer Evelyn Mason. She assured me that Torres would get recognition in his file for saving an officer’s life. It was not until earlier this year that I become aware that a report of this incident was not placed in his file. I did nothing to identify him or highlight his actions, as I did not want to endanger his safety within the inmate population.

  Recently I learned that Torres was severely beaten by inmate Morgan and—as a result of this beating—now wears a steel plate in his head. His attempt at saving my life put his own life in jeopardy and he had to be transferred out of his prison in California to a Nevada facility.

  If called as a witness, I can completely testify as to the truth of the foregoing statements.

  –Executed this 28th day of November, 1989 at San Francisco, CA. Notarized by the Notary Public.

  KEN HURDLE—STATEMENT OF CHARACTER

  August 21, 2002

  Correctional Lieutenant Evelyn
Mazon wrote, rather than coming to the aid of an injured officer, inmates will usually say they saw nothing. However:

  “Inmate Torres came to the aid of another human being, regardless of the consequences. Torres knew that night what would happen to him. He tried to tell me, but I did not understand. Joey said something that night, and years later I understood the full meaning. ‘What’s going to happen to me, Mazon? I couldn’t leave her alone. He is so big and could kill her. I had to do it. What’s going to happen to me, Mazon?’ As the years have passed, I can now fully appreciate and understand what Torres really did. I have also come to realize that Joey is a very special person. I have never said that about any inmate.”

  “Being in corrections, I do not get involved with inmates’ personal lives and have no feelings, one way or another, about them being in prison. With Joey, I would like to see him get out. Joey did a very good thing and was chastised for his actions. It’s time they recognize that Joey will make a good U.S. citizen.”

  In my opinion, it is the many laudatory comments from corrections officials that are particularly noteworthy.

  In July 1993, New Mexico Corrections officials wrote that Mr. Torrey, “spends a considerable amount of time on the phone, either direct or through three way calls, promoting his Boxers Against Drugs program.”

  Joey contacts numerous sports figures to do personal appearances, card shows, prison visits, autograph signings, and various other things to fight drug abuse. He states he spends up to 10 hours per day on the phone. The expenses for all the phone work is done through donated monies from athletes and donated signed sports items that can be auctioned off.

  “Joey appears to have a sincere and dedicated attitude towards helping others not make the same mistakes he did.”

  Clearly these people were moved and impressed by Joey’s character but looking at this and the bigger picture of his actions over time, it made me wonder. Morality is the sense that you would save a woman being attacked by a mentally unstable man because it’s the “correct” thing to do, but what if your brain worked in ways to identify saving a life as the action that was the “correct” way to get out of prison?

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  Joey sat in Vacaville segregation with numerous administrators who were facing the federal lawsuit that he had written while sitting in the hole. Joey found it entertaining and easy to litigate the system he was coming to understand. He claims that one night, after numerous beat downs by the guards for his lawsuit, an associate warden came to visit him and finally said, “If you drop the suit they will send you to any other prison in the U.S. that the department has an agreement with.”

  Joey started writing to Ana Luisa, another old “friend” who was close to Las Vegas and could visit him. Joey sent word to the yard about his return and was sent a message indicating a setup; “Come out to the yard Joey. All is OK.” Joey packed his bags for Nevada.

  When Joey agreed to be sent out of state, he transferred to Soledad State Prison, in the Protective Housing Unit. It was a special cell block with three front doors in which everyone needed buzzed through. Joey remained there for months— awaiting his ride to Nevada. He was housed with some of the nation’s most violent, high profile child molesters and murderers. There was Dan White (who murdered Harvey Milk and San Francisco Mayor Masconi), Juan Corona (who buried a bus full of farm workers), Sirhan Sirhan (who was charged with shooting Robert Kennedy), and numerous gang shot callers who now were informing for their “security.”

  Joey remembers watching Oliver North testify on TV about Iran/Contra from this cell block. The New York Giants were in the Super Bowl, and Joey was receiving mail and visits from Terry, another old “friend” who he says he decided to marry for the conjugal visits.

  Joey was finally transferred in 1986 to maximum security Nevada state prison, located in Carson City. Snow-covered mountains lie beyond this old penitentiary. Joey says he left Terry because “her family lived the gang life,” and the association with him put them in danger. So he picked Nevada to be closer to Ana Luisa, a wholesome woman who still lived with her parents.

  Joey did not know anyone in Carson City and began a new anonymous life. He watched the playoff baseball game where Billy Buckner, of the Red Sox, allowed a ball to travel between his legs off the bat of Mookie Wilson. Joey smiled when he saw Darryl Strawberry, who he knew as a kid in his old neighborhood. Nevada had a boxing program and Joey would watch the kids bang the bag and spar for hours, but he was afraid to engage them for fear of someone recognizing him as a “cop lover.”

  One day, Joey was escorted to see his counselor, who he felt was a nice lady who appreciated him saving the guard. She informed him that she pulled some strings to have him sent to their state’s kick back prison. Joey didn’t understand, but on January 6, 1987, he was driven towards the California/Nevada border, eventually reaching Jean, NV.

  Nestled against a mountain near I-15, it was located behind Pistol Pete’s casino—where the Bonnie & Clyde car was housed. Joey saw inmates walking around in personal clothes, wearing baseball jerseys, looking relaxed, and playing golf. Then on the other side of the yard, Joey saw a tennis court, and there in the middle of the yard was a boxing ring!

  Inmates walked out. They were virtually all old and white. Joey says he was waiting for food as he watched each inmate make a different special request. Jimmy Sacco appeared with a cigar as big as Luigi’s and introduced himself. He went on to say that he was a friend of Luigi’s and the family, and that he pulled some strings to get Joey relocated to “Camp Snoopy.”

  Joey claims that Sacco ran the biggest sports book in the nation. According to Joey, he recently began heading the biggest offshore gambling establishment in Costa Rica.

  They ate, and Sacco told Joey who’s dead and who’s telling. Joey says Jimmy informed him that the Steve’s Muffler “issue” was based on money owed to him. Joey claims that the guards came by to slip Jimmy his daily bottle of vodka. Jimmy explained that of the 500 inmates on the yard, half were perverts or molesters, and the other half were slot cheats and white collar criminals like himself. Jimmy was making big money from prison and running his operation in Santo Domingo and Costa Rica from his cell. He supposedly handed Joey a shoe box with a few Cuban cigars, a roll of bills, toothpaste, and odds and ends.

  Joey found his cell had wall-to-wall carpeting, a recliner, a giant stereo, TV with cable, and a telephone! In exchange for handing over your ID card, the guards would hand you a phone.

  Joey received a knock one morning from Ernie, a guy Joey knew from the Spilotro family. His boss had recently been found buried in a hole in the desert. His crew was known as the “hole in the wall” gang because they entered through one building to rob the adjacent one. He was also a barber who gave a nice cut. They’d smoke cigars and go down memory lane. Joey spent the next day working out, ordering a large cheese pizza and nachos, and watching cable TV in his cell.

  Ana Luisa Hernandez visited Joey on Saturdays. He says, “She looked like Dolly’s twin—down to her class and old school love and respect for her family.” Joey could receive groceries from visitors: avacados, plantains, and quarts of Pepsi half full of Bacardi!

  Joey told Jimmy Sacco that he wanted to fight again and get a professional fight under his belt. Sacco told Joey that he was too smart and that they should instead promote other fights. Jimmy floated him a few thousand dollar loan, and Joey went on a phone campaign, learning that the phone can be a powerful tool. Joey called Top Rank’s office in Vegas and spoke to Miguel Diaz, an old time trainer who, according to Joey, “betrayed Jimmy Montoya and everyone in his path to become the number one self-proclaimed cut man in boxing.”

  Joey told Diaz that he needed boxers out at the prison for an exhibition. Top Rank was the same agency who had asked Joey to fight when he was 17.

  Next, Joey made an appointment with the warden, Walter Luster, who happened to be a boxing fan himself. Luster was in his 60s, and a part-time boxing coach. Joey asked about his idea of promotin
g fights from the prison. Luster smiled and said he loved it. Joey called every television station—local and abroad. They were only 35 miles from the Vegas strip.

  Joey made a call to John Nadel, of the Associated Press in LA He told Nadel about his crime and they struck up a friendship. Joey asked Nadel to get him in touch with Eric David and Darryl Strawberry.

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  Joey says he came to consider Nadel and his daughter like family, and what an opportune family to have. John helped him get ahold of Davis and Strawberry, and Joey invited them to his event. Joey says John would slip him numbers for athletes, and Joey would interview them. He’d ask them to speak to Nadel, and would get a scoop.

  One day Joey said he was able to hear sadness in Nadel’s voice. Joey asked him what the problem was and learned that his daughter was using methamphetamines or “ice.” Over the next few years, Joey would call John’s daughter and talk about how drugs had ruined his life and John’s daughter Stacy eventually turned her life around and graduated college. Joey was contacted by Fox Television—who wanted to do a special on him.

  After being in some of this country’s most violent prisons, it was confusing for Joey when the guards and inmates would greet him with “good morning.” Joey says he pondered what they wanted from him. Perhaps the way that he looked at the world was tempering his expectations of others and not everyone was working an angle. It’s a telling story when you can’t even trust those around you to be pleasant for genuine reasons.

  Joey saw on ESPN that Len Bias and Don Rogers had died of cocaine overdoes—two young athletes whose lives hadn’t really yet begun. Joey had an idea to help young athletes from the inner city to deal with the drug epidemic. He says he loved working with Stacy Nadel and talking to kids in trouble.