The same process is used by most police departments with families of crime victims. It can take days or weeks for them to find out. Families say the way they were notified ends up being the searing, specific detail that pains them long after their loved one is buried. His parents only learned he had died when a Sacramento Bee reporter called and informed them, months later.
Death notification policies vary among corrections departments.
Many states, including Texas, New York, Florida, and the District of Columbia, have a prison chaplain deliver the news. CDCR spokesperson Sessa said in-person notification would be preferable, but a phone call is often more practical because of the distance and need to inform families quickly.
Advocates say telling people in person would be ideal, but acknowledge that would be difficult to implement and hard to sell to policymakers and officials. Advocates tried and failed to change this language through the state legislature. Short of rewriting the script for death notification, state Sen.
Connie Leyva, a Democrat from Chino, is trying to change the guidelines around informing families of serious incidents, after speaking with advocates for the Coalition. According to the current policy, family members should be contacted in the case of serious illness or injury, but many say that rarely happens. Sunday said she was never called, and found out instead through letters and emails from other inmates. Like Verizon Media, our partners may also show you ads that they think match your interests. Learn more about how Verizon Media collects and uses data and how our partners collect and use data.
Before you continue...
Select 'OK' to allow Verizon Media and our partners to use your data, or 'Manage options' to review our partners and your choices. Tip: Sign In to save these choices and avoid repeating this across devices.
You can always update your preferences in the Privacy Centre. Wainger hasn't been in the field of criminal prosecution for nearly two decades, but it appears that Fentress' case continues to gnaw at him. Wainger notes he prosecuted Fentress in after having previously served as an assistant attorney general in the state's criminal litigation division. Fentress indeed committed the crimes for which he was convicted, he has now served a fair punishment, and at 38 years old, is likely not the same person as he was at Under these circumstances alone, confining Mr.
Fentress in prison for additional time will likely not further rehabilitate him, or serve the interests of justice. Fentress dares to dream of a life beyond his confinement. It's as if Fentress is a sprinter at the starting line, his muscles twitching as he prepares to burst forward. Already, while still behind bars, Fentress is mulling decisions those on the outside must confront on a daily basis.
If and when he is freed, his ideas spill out as he discusses his future plans. Taking classes at a community college is something he speaks about often, and he said he'd do janitor-type work if he has to in an effort to make ends meet upon his release. Probably most dear to his heart, besides his future spouse, is a nonprofit he hopes to join with his brother and sister-in-law, the "L. What better way to get it than from the horse's mouth? Of course, getting married is high on Fentress' to-do list.
Prosecutor says 22 years is enough for man convicted of murder as teen
She's also engaged to Fentress. There was an immediate connection. Last February, while Wyatt was at an Applebee's restaurant with friends, Fentress called her cell phone from prison. Wyatt accepted. A deputy for six years, she sometimes cautions Fentress to slow down just a bit.