On Saturday morning my beloved son, Whitney Holwadel Smith, took his own life. The prison and justice system took everything else from him, and this was all he had left. Whitney was my life, and now he and that are gone.
I am sorry that I am unable to respond to those of you who have written about this. I want you to know that the people who read his thoughts here were a source of some happiness, or at least something like that, in a life that otherwise knew very little happiness.
At some point I hope to be able to make people with a real voice in these matters aware of who my son was, and how he was ultimately broken by the system. He spent the last year of his life in solitary confinement, he was not allowed to see me in person or even call me. He was tortured to death. And I cannot write anymore now. Please remember my son, and do what you can to honor him.