“GuGu” Lost in the System: A Hidden Tragedy of American Injustice”

In New Jersey, approximately 7,000 men and women are behind bars. Although the prison population has declined in recent years, there remains a hidden population of aging prisoners in New Jersey penitentiaries that have been virtually lost in the system, due to tremendous variations in the State’s subjective parole process. Paul “GuGu” Williams, Jr., SBI# 224338A, was one of those lost men, buried deep within the crevasses of the prison system.

The NJ Office of the Public Defender Parole Project’s 2021 Revised Report stated that the “parole release process” in the state is “fatally flawed.” The “applicants are thrust in front of the parole board with no representatives.” Moreover, the Report stated that the Parole Board confronts the applicants with “some evidence that it uses against them,” and any other evidence that is deemed “confidential” is not disclosed to the applicant, even if he/she hires an attorney. The entire parole process in NJ is veiled in secrecy, and as a result, the Parole Board “can decide to keep the applicant in prison for as long as it wishes, without limit.”

According to the Prison Policy Initiative (PPI), NJ’s parole system is notoriously murky, as it is largely discretionary, and the state grants merely 32% of parole hearings per year. However, even that percentage is foggy, as it does not account for the repeated denials of the same individual over the years, and does not account for a person being released to another community-based (not parole) status, as highlighted by PPI.

The NJ Public Defender Parole Project’s 2021 Revised Report also pronounced that the “Parole Board consistently fails to uphold its mandate to release parole-eligible applicants.” Consequently, applicants remain in prisons “sometimes exceeding the initial sentence itself.”

GuGu was a glaring example of the NJ Parole Board’s abuse of discretion. He entered the New Jersey State Prison (NJSP) on October 25, 1972, at the age of 20 for being a participant in a robbery homicide. After serving 52 years in NJSP, he was finally granted parole on Thursday, January 25, 2024, at the age of 71.

Upon hearing the news, as it spread like a wildfire, a fellow prisoner sarcastically stated to me, “They got more than their pound of flesh; they tried to take his soul. God bless him, he did not give up.”

Heartache of a Clown

I first met GuGu about a decade ago in the NJSP Chapel where I had started work as a clerk for the prison’s Chaplaincy Department. I found him sitting cross-legged on a chair as if he was an old English aristocrat. His demeanor was humble, his eyes sad. He was a slender, about 5’9”, dark-skinned, mustached man with deep lines on his face, reflecting the length of his sentence and the breadth of his experience. Yet, there was playfulness to his tone, almost an aloofness that belied his sad and tragic reality.

GuGu was one of the participants in the 12-Step program founded and run under the careful eye of our Catholic Staff Chaplain, Sister Elizabeth Gnam. (The program is now taken over by the Social Services Department.)

In those days, on every Wednesday, the 12-Step group gathered in the North Compound Chapel, sitting in a circle, they usually started with their “Serenity Prayer,” and then one by one, each individual would speak about his issues.

The Chapel has a capacity to hold almost 50 prisoners. Prisoners of different faiths gather and share the space for their religious services and classes. It is a well-lit, spacious room with a chalkboard and a 48-inch flat screen TV on the northern wall for the prisoners to watch religious and instructional videos.

During their sessions, I tried my best to focus on my work, compiling lists of participants for upcoming religious services and programs. Once their meeting started, I would wear headphones to listen to something while I worked. In that way, I provide some semblance of privacy to the 12-Step guys, and myself. But, that particular day, I didn’t have my headphones, and I am glad for it, because GuGu was asked by one of the fellow prisoners to recite a poem about his addiction. On cue, GuGu started his impromptu poem, and my heart skipped a beat:

“I laugh so hard, and yet, so low,

I could hear the silent within, and the cold winds blow,

I could hear the lions roar, the sound of birds,

And the cries of people behind closed doors

Weariness captures my verbal sound,

While I reveal the Heartache of a Clown…”

I have been a sucker for poetry since early childhood. I am not speaking of the “words” placed in a sequence to sound good; I am talking about the language of the soul! Because that is what real poetry is all about. It is a way for the soul to speak, to be heard, to have a voice.

A captive voice!

As if under a spell, I slowly raised my eyes to see the one who was speaking a magical tongue I knew, a vernacular of fairies, an enchantment of a mystical dimension that enveloped my heart with its sorrow. A trait we both shared in our own particular ways, perhaps a common thread between souls behind bars.

Saga of a Life Sentence

GuGu’s saga of a life sentence following a first-degree murder verdict began in July 1972. The incident in his hometown of Jersey City, NJ, arose out of forced participation in the robbery of a tavern owner, where another co-defendant admittedly shot and killed the man. GuGu, a 20 year-old at the time, was a drug addict, and his participation in the crime was miniscule by any standards, and under duress, according to the defense. Yet, the travesty was that GuGu was the only defendant, among other co-defendants, who stayed in prison for over a half century, and every other person involved in that crime, and case, has been released decades prior, including the actual shooter.

GuGu’s life in prison was even more tragic. Entering the system as a young teenager some 50 years ago, first at the county jail, and subsequently at NJSP, he suffered countless vicious rape attempts, and sexual assaults. Expectedly, with five decades of abuse, he became mentally sick. According to GuGu, his mental illness developed due to being on constant guard for his safety. He told me that it seemed that danger lurked on every corner. Wherever he walked, he felt like he was being watched. And instead of providing him with help, the NJSP authorities actually punished him for fighting, and trying to protect himself from his assailants.

In the 70s and 80s, NJSP was a violent and sadistic place: physical attacks and sexual assaults were the norm. And the New Jersey Department of Corrections (NJDOC), like other DOCs around the country, was in denial of the unsafe conditions of its wards, and seemingly considered such violence as regular conditions of prison life. Following the Federal Legislature’s passing of the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA) protocols in 2003, and subsequent 2012-issued standards for the states, the tragedy of sexual assaults was finally, and officially, addressed by the NJDOC authorities.

Yet, GuGu’s suffering continued, and his misery lingered under the confines of the NJ prison system, and after some 50-plus years of incarceration, he was repeatedly denied parole 12 times. (With the enactment of the “No Early Release” (NERA) laws in the 90s for violent crimes, requiring a built-in 85% mandatory minimum automatic parole disqualifier, the parole system only applies to ones who were incarcerated prior to that enactment.)

According to the Robina Institute of Criminal Law and Criminal Justice, in NJ, usually a two-member team conducts a parole hearing. Moreover, this hearing can be conducted without the prisoner, and can instead be decided administratively. But, in the cases of convicted murderers like GuGu, the majority of a so-called “Full Panel” must approve the parole. In making its decision, the Panel primarily relies on the reports prepared by the NJSP officials that include a “complete psychological evaluation.”

In some of his prior hearings, the Panel denied GuGu relief by relying upon an updated “confidential psychological assessment.” Thus, GuGu was judged on a secret document to which he was repeatedly held accountable, yet was unable to challenge or question, remaining lost in the judicial system.

In His Own Words

I sat down with GuGu, prior to his release, and asked him some questions to highlight his misfortune, and bring the issue of NJ’s broken prison/judicial/parole system to light, because humanity demands such. I felt that such insight was important to underscore the plight of other similarly situated prisoners who are still lost within the prison walls in NJ.

During our talk, GuGu told me he had been incarcerated for 52 years, and was 71 years of age. About his early years, he said “I wanted to finish high school and go to college. But I was sidetracked and started to skip school. I got my GED while locked up.”

GuGu told me that at the time of the incident, he was only 20 years old, and “can’t believe” that he has been behind bars for over 50 years. “I was charged and convicted of an Armed Robbery and First-Degree Murder. Despite my co-defendant, the actual shooter, stating on the witness stand that he shot the bartender. Anyway, I got life. And as my lawyer failed to put in my appeal, it took me five years to get my Direct Appeal, and I was subsequently denied on all my legal efforts,” he recounted.

When I asked him about his co-defendants and the incident, he said, “It was eight of us all together; three of us, and five of them. Well, it was three of us, me and my friends. We were all drug addicts, man. My friend owed this dude $20, and he wasn’t the type of guy you owed money to. So, he and his five friends basically told him that he has to help them with getting their money back, or else he was going to lose his life. My friend begged me to help, and being young, 20 at the time, I didn’t think much and agreed. They basically forced us to commit a robbery. Because, it was either that, or my friend was going to get dealt with for not having the $20. We had to make it up to them somehow.”

What happened next is contentious, but according to GuGu, first, the guys who they owed money to stopped and picked up guns. “Actually, one real gun, with one real bullet,” according to GuGu. They then checked out a few bars in the area, and then settled on one. Before they went into the tavern, they gave that gun to GuGu’s friend, who actually owed the $20. GuGu was provided with a knife, and his third friend was given a blank gun. Then they told GuGu and his friends to “go in and get their money.” GuGu reported that the group of bullies then blocked both entrances, “so we couldn’t run out.”

GuGu recounted sadly, “Looking back, well, three young teenage Black boys entering an all-white bar didn’t look right. I entered first, and then as soon as my friend with the gun entered the bar, the bartender ran, and wrestled with him, and the shot went off almost accidentally.”

Fighting For His Manhood

In the aftermath, following his quick trial a few months later, GuGu was given a life sentence. The shocking disparity is that the person who actually fired the gun received 18 to 25 years behind bars. GuGu’s third friend was sentenced to 17 years, with a minimum of six months before being eligible for parole. Each of the other co-defendants (the bullies), got a sentence of five years or less. The only cause for the tremendous disproportionality in sentencing among GuGu and his co-defendants, is that GuGu chose to stand trial, instead of accepting the State’s plea offer.

Basically, everyone involved in GuGu’s case was released DECADES AGO, including the shooter, while he lingered behind the castle walls of NJSP for seemingly an eternity.

GuGu told me that in the early years, he had to constantly fight for his “manhood,” however, GuGu insisted and remained adamant that he was never actually raped, and was able to repel his assailants. In doing so, he incurred 130 institutional charges, which resulted in his spending over 12 years in Administrative Segregation (Ad-Seg) isolation. He lamented that the Parole Board had no consideration for him attempting to defend himself, and kept using the institutional infractions as a reason to deny him parole.

Subsequent to his harrowing ordeal over the years of fighting off animals in the NJSP, who preyed on vulnerable prisoners, he was placed in “special housing” because of the trauma he suffered due to being repeatedly abused. He still suffers from that shock and pain. And more importantly, he will need constant mental health treatment for his life on the outside.

Despite his tribulations, GuGu had continued to strive to be a positive person. Although the prison environment has morphed into a more restrictive one in the last couple of decades, in the past when it was allowed, he was part of two different music groups. “We did gigs all over the prison. I also recited my poetry,” said GuGu with a smile. He also contributed short stories to the now defunct Prison News Letter.

Since his sentencing in 1972, GuGu has qualified for parole 12 times. However, for one reason or another, he was denied every time. GuGu was 20 years old when he arrived at NJSP from county jail. Prior to this crime, he had a few Breaking and Entering (B & E) charges, and related offenses, but nothing of a violent nature. Thus, GuGu remained baffled that he had been locked up for more than half a century, and no parole opportunities had been given to him. Given his age, and the amount of time he served behind bars, especially in comparison to the nature of his involvement in the crime, the repeated denial of parole was beyond incredulous.

According to the Census Bureau, “the U.S. median age rose to a high of 38.9 years, an increase of 3.5 years in the last 23 years.” But in comparison, the nation’s older prison population is increasing “at a much faster rate.” According to a report by PPI, “The Aging Prison Population: Cause, Costs, and Consquences” by Emily Widra, August 2, 2023: “From 1991 to 2021, the percentage of state and federal prison population nationwide aged 55 or older, swelled from three percent to a whopping 15%.” The report further highlighted the perils of aging in prison, and the detrimental dangers of physical, mental, and emotional tolls on people like GuGu.

Hopeful As Ever

However, GuGu persevered, and kept on working towards the goal of freedom. He wrote countless letters to solicit outside aid and assistance, including letters to Kim Kardashian. His loving family, especially his niece, kept him going, and so did his prison community. He kept his pen and talent flowing, and kept on writing, sharing his message, and speaking for himself in his encompassing poetry. He became a published author, and told his own story. With the help of prison paralegals, and countless prayers, he was finally recommended by the Parole Board’s Full Panel in August of 2022. The Full Panel subsequently evaluated GuGu, and provided him his due: Freedom!

I last met GuGu a few weeks before his release, after seeing our families at the visit-hall. He was all smiles, and pointed at his niece, and she waved back at me. “Thank you, Tariq,” he said in a sincere manner. “I didn’t do anything, GuGu,” I replied, while holding on to our handshake. “Nah, you helped me with my poetry, and getting published. You got my voice out!” I just smiled, feeling beyond happy for him. You see, after 52 years of incarceration, there is simply nothing you can say to a man to make him feel better. But, I have been imprisoned for 21 years myself, and I could read the lines on his face as if they were Braille. Unlike others, GuGu and I share that trait too, understanding that ethereal vernacular of the captive men and women of this country.

Remaining positive and hopeful as ever, he still planned on a future where he was not in a cage. He told me, “I still have my family out there who are waiting for me, and they love me. I’m planning on making a lot of money with my songs and poetry. And I’m going to help my entire family reach their dreams. I’m going to also support and help the homeless, because I used to be homeless and a drug addict. I hope that my time in prison makes the family of the victim happy; I just ask you (society), and God, to forgive me for my transgression.”