Racial Dynamics Inside Angola

Last weekend, the English reggae band UB 40 played in the Orpheum in Los Angeles and included in the set their 1980 song “Tyler”.

Tyler is guilty white judges said soWhat right do we got to say it’s not soTyler is guilty white judges said soWhat right do we got to say it’s not soTyler is guilty white judges said soWhat right do we got to say it’s not soTyler is guilty white judges said soWhat right do we got to say it’s not so

In the audience was the song’s muse Gary Tyler who, as a sixteen year old in 1974, was put on death row for a crime he didn’t commit:

Appeal to the governor, of LouisianaYou may get an answer the process is slowFederal court won, too much to openHe’s been there for five years and they won’t let him go

This week, Tyler released his autobiography, Stitching Freedom, in which he tells the story of the 41 years he spent in Angola high security prison for his “crime”. Yes, the process was slow - shamefully slow. It’s the shockingly true story of injustice, defiance and hope in Louisiana’s bloodiest prison. Tyler is free now, living in Los Angeles, having successfully stitched his life together. He doesn’t seem to have forgiven the system for this injustice (why should he?), yet the one thing that 41 years in Angola clearly didn’t destroy was Gary Tyler’s humanity. So I guess there’s hope in this tragic story.

1. A 16-Year-Old Scapegoat for Racial Violence Gary Tyler was arrested at age 16 during a racial confrontation at a newly integrated Louisiana school in 1974. After a 13-year-old white boy was fatally shot during the chaos, police brutally beat Tyler to extract a confession he never gave, then charged him with first-degree murder despite no evidence linking him to the crime.

2. Political Prisoners Saved His Life In Angola’s death row, Tyler found unexpected mentors - former Black Panthers and civil rights activists who recognized his case as part of systemic injustice. These older inmates taught him to channel his anger into education and activism, helping him write letters that would eventually bring national attention to his case through organizations like Amnesty International.

3. Finding Purpose in America’s Bloodiest Prison Despite facing execution, Tyler transformed his imprisonment into service. He became president of multiple prison organizations and, most meaningfully, a hospice volunteer caring for dying inmates - including some of the very men who had mentored him. This work became his “sense of redemption” and healing.

4. Justice Denied, Freedom Granted Tyler was never exonerated. Despite multiple appeals reaching the Supreme Court and three favorable parole board recommendations, politics kept him imprisoned. He was finally released in 2016 only because of new Supreme Court rulings against juvenile life sentences - not because the system admitted its mistake.

5. Stitching a Life Back Together Tyler discovered quilting in prison, initially resisting it as “feminine” before recognizing it as both a way to help dying inmates leave something for their families and a metaphor for his own healing. Now a professional artist in Pasadena, he literally and figuratively pieces together a life that was torn apart, remaining optimistic that struggle against injustice must continue.

Keen On America is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit keenon.substack.com/subscribe