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Heather Ann ThompsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Malcolm Bell was the whistleblower who had worked in Simonetti’s office as his chief assistant. He revealed that their team “had worked deliberately and systematically to prevent the prosecution of the troopers and correction officers who had committed crimes at Attica” (397). He also accused Simonetti’s office of a cover-up of the cover-up of those crimes. Bell himself was a conservative and therefore an unlikely candidate for this role.
Bell had been assigned to work on the so-called “shooter cases” of troopers’ illegal use of firearms in the retaking. From the start he had concerns about the way the troopers had lied about the shootings and how there had been evidence tampering by the NYSP. For example, the NYSP had “actively tampered with the photographic evidence” (411), in one case planting a weapon on a dead inmate then taking a photo.
Nevertheless, Bell was able to take cases of a few attempted murders, perjuries, and various counts of reckless endangerment to a grand jury. After three months of work in front of the grand jury, Simonetti abruptly informed Bell, in August 1974, that the potential indictment of state troopers was being suspended. Bell suspected this had something to do with the upcoming confirmation hearings of Rockefeller for US vice president to Gerald Ford in the same month. Confirmation hearings are hearings held by a committee, once a candidate has been nominated by the president, to confirm his or her suitability. Rockefeller and his supporters did not want trooper indictments, and the likely media attention on them, to affect his chances.
After the suspension of the shooter cases, Simonetti suggested going after higher-ranking officials on the grounds of a possible cover-up. Those under suspicion were: (1) Colonel George Infante, responsible for collecting evidence in the yard after the retaking; (2) Major John Monahan, a troop commander in charge of the retaking; and (3) Captain Henry Williams, who had played a key role both in the retaking and in taking evidence and testimony. As Thompson puts it, Williams was the man mainly responsible for executing the cover-up while Infante was its “architect.” They had specifically protected the killer of prisoner Kenny Malloy, the trooper responsible having been able to resign, then disappear.
However, it was becoming clear to Bell that Simonetti was deliberately setting up the cases against these suspects to fail. This fact was brought to light when Simonetti intentionally allowed Monahan and Williams to give evidence in a grand jury trial without a waiver. This meant they could gain immunity in connection with what they said. In New York law, witnesses are given automatic immunity from prosecution for testimony provided in a grand jury trial.
Chapter 44 describes how Simonetti’s office deliberately ignored evidence of a cover-up. For example, they knew from internal memos that Infante had deliberately decided that “no one was to ‘determine who fired what weapon”’ (425). Through investigative and ballistics work, they also knew exactly which troopers or COs had killed specific prisoners on the day of the retaking. For instance, the killers of L.D. Barkley, who had given a televised speech from D Yard, and Sam Melville, the anti-Vietnam war activist shot while surrendering, were both known.
Finally, their office believed it had evidence about whose firing had killed the hostages in D Yard, especially with regards to the amount of fire power used at the time. Even if this was not manslaughter or murder, it was at the very least reckless endangerment, yet Bell was not allowed to present any of this evidence to a grand jury.
Chapter 45 discusses the immediate events surrounding Bell’s decision to go public. Bell had an informant from high up in the NYSP. This man, in the autumn of 1974, revealed to Bell “that key NYSP tapes from the retaking did still exist” despite oaths from the police asserting the contrary (435-436). When Bell told Simonetti about this, he did not respond positively, except to ask for the name of his source. When Bell refused to provide it, Simonetti had him suspended.
Bell consequently compiled a report of his findings and tried to tell both Judge Carmen Ball and incoming state governor Hugh Carey. In his report there was proof of the evidence Bell had for the “shooter” crimes and the cover-up. After hearing nothing for over two months from either, he decided to submit his report to Tom Wicker at the New York Times. Myron Farber then interviewed Bell and wrote up the story, which was published on April 8, 1974, causing a media storm. Under pressure, Governor Carey authorized an investigation into the conduct of the original investigation at Attica.
This new investigation, as Thompson explains, was conducted by Bernard S. Meyer. He was given only five months to investigate a prior investigation that had gone on for four years. Meyer also had connections to Rockefeller. Still, he was able to interview not only Infante but also Rockefeller and his assistant, Douglas. Rockefeller revealed that he had often been in touch with the attorney general regarding the Attica investigators, a fact that suggested he had influenced the investigation. Likewise, Infante disclosed that he had been told via high-ranking state officials that Simonetti would help grant him immunity.
Despite some criticisms of the initial inquiry, the report from the new investigation exonerated all higher-up officials of any intentional cover-up. The report did lead to a couple of hastily arranged indictments of troopers, but these were then dismissed by the district attorney.
In a bid to finally close the book on Attica, Governor Carey made a key announcement on New Year’s Eve of 1976. In addition to closing any outstanding cases and grand juries, he was going to pardon all prisoners found guilty in an Attica case and dismiss all further enquiries into illegal acts on the part of state employees.
The 1976 declaration of amnesty was bittersweet for surviving inmates of Attica. On one level, as Thompson points out, “everyone was relieved that the indictment ordeal was over” and that no more time would be served in connection with it (453). They had also gotten the one thing they had asked for all along: full legal amnesty. There was also, however, for several reasons, still a feeling of deep frustration. For one thing, John Hill, sentenced for the murder of William Quinn, had not been immediately released. Though his sentence had been commuted, he would have to wait until a parole board in 1977 to hear about his freedom. Even then it was not granted on that occasion.
More significantly, there was anger because of a deeper lack of justice. Inmates had suffered for years, first through the brutal retaking and its aftermath. They had then endured coercive investigations into their alleged “crimes” before suffering the anxiety and shame of trials and legal cases against them, yet not a single one of the people responsible for all this had ever stood trial. Nor, it seemed now, would they ever. The state, its highest-ranking officials, and the troopers and COs who shot and tortured inmates, would never be prosecuted. They would not even have to apologize or accept responsibility. Indeed, some had actually benefited from it. The man arguably more culpable than any other, then-Governor Nelson Rockefeller, had gone onto become vice president. His confirmation hearing having gone smoothly in 1974, he served alongside Gerald Ford for three years in one of the highest positions in the US government.
This impunity was especially galling because of the Bell revelations. Bell, Simonetti’s assistant, had been able to show, in his report to Governor Carey, not only that there had been an initial cover-up of state crimes at Attica, but that there had effectively been a cover-up of that cover-up, involving deliberate attempts to subvert and shut down the investigation into evidence tampering and those involved. It involved intentionally manipulating legal rules to grant immunity to key figures like Monahan and Williams. Ultimately, also, it meant forcing Bell himself to resign, yet there were no consequences for those in power. Only when Bell had the courage to speak out and his story appeared in the New York Times did Carey feel compelled to act. Even then the result was more dissembling and evasions.
In response to public pressure over what seemed like a clear cover-up, Carey had commissioned Meyer to investigate the original investigation. Meyer allowed those in power to get off the hook once again. The report talked about a “lack of good judgement” in Simonetti’s helping grant immunity to leading figures (445). It also mentioned a “possible conflict of interest” in the NYSP’s investigating crimes committed by its own members (445). It categorically denied, though, any possibility of cover-ups. Despite Rockefeller’s virtually admitting, when questioned, that he had tried to control the investigation, any failures to investigate state crimes properly had been entirely accidental. This seemed, for Bell and others, incredible. As he said, it was like “being at a holdup and then being told by the investigators ‘the money’s gone and the bodies are here, but there wasn’t any hold up’” (446).
Still, they should not have been surprised. The state was doing what it had from the beginning: covering itself. New inquiries were merely one other means, albeit often of last resort, to accomplish this. Purportedly independent investigations could be used to make it seem like action was being taken while allowing public awareness or anger to dissipate. Meanwhile, the state could control its remit and personnel. In so doing, for instance by circumscribing the questions it was supposed to answer, it could ensure conclusions that were equivocal or effectively harmless. This is what happened with the Meyer report. Beneath a calculated veneer of criticism and vague recommendations was one crucial point: that that no troopers, COs, or officials should be indicted. Thompson says that Carey and the state of New York “had done their best to bury the bodies” (454). Despite Carey’s progressive persona, he was, like Rockefeller, in the end protecting his own. If prisoners and victims wanted justice, or proper closure, they had to try a different tack. They had to take matters into their own hands.