Survival, loss, hope, and wanting to be more

Richard Stahursky was given a life sentence in Maine and is currently serving time from a New Jersey state prison. The circumstances of Richard’s incarceration and the broader institutional failures that shaped his sentence are documented in two previous pieces written for Society Impact by his loved one: He Was Guilty; So Was the Maine Department of Corrections, and a follow-up piece, Against Everlasting Punishment.

---

A glimmer of hope for prisoners of conscience worldwide (1959) by Pablo Picasso

My name is Richard Stahursky, and I am 47 years old. I am serving a natural life sentence in Maine. This is my story.  

I grew up in Bridgeport, Connecticut, where only the strongest survived. I had to do things at an early age that I am not proud of, but it was all about survival. Back then, you were either a wolf or a sheep. This mentality has stayed with me throughout my life, and although it has saved me time and time again, it is also the reason I’m serving a life sentence instead of being home with the one I love, building a life together. 

My nightmare began in early 2002, when I was just 23 years old. I was given a 28 year sentence for a robbery I didn’t commit. I didn’t cooperate with authorities by telling them what happened. I was sent to Maine State Prison even though I should’ve gone to Federal Prison. It was also at this time that I lost my 25 year old sister Dawn to cancer, and I was being kept away from my two children. As a result, I gave up a little more each passing day. I was getting in a lot of trouble, racking up more and more charges, and I began to self-harm almost every day. So, I was placed in solitary confinement. 

After years in solitary, I was released back into general population, in a pod where they house a high number of sex offenders. I didn’t approve of this move, and Prison Officials were well aware of my prior history of violence  towards sex offenders, but I was still forced to live with them. This led to a chain of events that resulted in me killing a man I shared the pod with.

In 2016, I was transferred to New Jersey, and I regressed back to doing what I had done before: stabbing others, self-harming… just wanting to throw the towel in for  good. That is until I met the love of my life, someone who finally saw me as a human being. Now, I have a reason to persevere and not give up. I found unconditional support, which made me into a better person. She’s type of person that sees the good in people when others can’t. She’s the best person I’ve ever met.  

With her support, I’ve stopped self-harming and getting in trouble. I am trying to get a college education. Although the prison I am in doesn’t offer college programs, I am hoping that I’ll be able to find a funded program. I started looking at things in a positive way.

My grandfather died of cancer in 2002, my sister died of cancer in 2003, my  grandmother died of cancer in 2006, and my mother died of cancer in 2013. I shiver when I hear the word cancer because it has taken so much from me.  

I had my eldest son, my first, at age 17. I had my younger son a few days after I turned 20, but in my mind I still felt 19 years old. I always wanted to be a dad and give my children the things I never had: a role model. Although that was my goal, I had failed. I haven’t seen my eldest son since 2010. I haven’t seen my youngest son since 2002. I  have sent many letters to my youngest son throughout the years, but I know for a fact my letters were being kept from him. He has a daughter born out of wedlock, my granddaughter, who I have never met. I hope at some point he will write to me, because I’d like to talk to him, teach him what I have learned from the mistakes I have made. Having children as a teenager, out of wedlock, has brought suffering to them because I was not able to provide them the guidance that they needed. I was also just a boy trying to survive. 

Unfortunately, my eldest son respects nothing, and was severely addicted to drugs for  years. Addiction turned him into a disloyal person willing to do anything to feed his habit. It hurt me profoundly to learn the depth of his addiction. I always think to myself “I wish I could’ve stopped that.” 

If I was there to set a good example, maybe they wouldn’t have made the mistakes they did. But I don’t want to be condemned forever for the mistakes I made. 

Throughout my life I have had many heartbreaks, many disappointments, and setbacks. But I am still standing. I will not stop fighting for my freedom. I dream of one day having a real family with the woman I love. I know she would be a wonderful mother. I dream of petting a dog again, of feeling grass under my feet, of going to work. I dream of having a normal life.  

I yearn to be given an opportunity to show the world that I can be a good man, someone who is much more than his worst mistakes.  

Thank you for reading,

Richard Stahursky.