Finding Light in the Dark

Dear Governor Newsom. Public Buddhist nun and teacher Pema Chodren writes, I'm grateful to be Jarvis Masters teacher in part because he has taught me so much. I have rarely encountered anyone who expresses the essence of Buddhism in a clearer, more moving way than he does, And I deeply admire how David Chef has capture that hard one wisdom in his book The Buddhist on Death Row, how one man found light in the darkest place. In the last episode we heard from David and why and how he chose

to spend years writing the story of Jarvis's life. I wanted to hear Jarvis's side of the story why he agreed to give permission an unfettered access to his story to a perfect stranger. Let me just say something about David and my relationship. It went so fast, I mean in terms of our relationship as to human beings, him trying to understand my life and me having the ability to trust him in ways that I've never trust anyone

telling that story. I think one of the reasons why I gave a lot of trust to him that I would not have anyone else's because he read my two books. He read That Bird Has My Wings and he read Finding Freedom. So he came with a understanding of where I understood my life and he followed up on that. It was not, you know, me having to tell him about a lot of scenes, a lot of experiences that I had without him already knowing about it. So he came to me with an idea of just continuing that

story in a way that would impact more people. You know, I was all for that, but I also knew that there was gonna be a lot that I didn't write about that he was going to write about, and not all of it was gonna be you know what, I would have said, you know, but I was fine with it. I was fine with it because my story was out in front of his and that's just the way I felt about it. Were you nervous about what he might find out was or what he might write about since

he didn't have any control over it. I don't want to say I didn't care, but I would say that I trusted him to care about what he thought would be the best thing to tell people about me. Why did you trust me with it? I don't know. My whole attitude was that my story was out there, and I put it out there. So whatever you guys do, I don't you know you're gonna do it. He's not the district attorney's office. He's not someone who's prosecuting me, and anyone's absent of that has to have something good

to say about me. Um. And plus, you know what, Cornea was tired. I was really tired. I mean it was some time after I lost my appeal, and it was just I wasn't trying to you know, I didn't have that kind of energy no more, you know, um. And it was all about finding someone you can trust, you know, because it my belief and I tell guys that around here, you know, you got to trust somebody.

At some point, you're going to trust somebody because if we don't trust no one, then there's nothing gonna happen. You You, I can bet you nothing's going to happen. So you know, you trust someone and let it, let it, let it go where it's gonna go, you know. Um. But it was interesting when I felt interesting about David and I write, you know, him writing that book was that he was asking some really really good questions that I had not thought about, you know, and I became

interested in how is he going to write this? You know as a writer? You know, can you an example like a question that was out of the blue, His understanding of what happened to me as a child, you know, his understanding of of how uh I end up going back down to Los Angeles as you know, um, after

I was released from the California Youth Authority. Um. Him seeing the more better than me, the good some good things about me that I had not wrote about because I just didn't think that was the story of my life. And he said, you Arsad, is the story of your life. Following is an excerpt from the Buddhist on Death Row, in which David describes how Jarvis's traumatic childhood influenced some of the Buddhist beliefs he embraces today. Audiobook read by

Michael Boatman. Jarvis was placed in nine foster homes and three boys homes, including some in which he was starved, beaten, and kept in squalor. At thirteen, he was moved from the foster care system into the Division of Juvenile Justice, where the brutal treatment escalated. When he was arrested for petty crimes stealing a bicycle joy riding. He was placed in youth detention centers, where he was subjected to more beatings, burned, locked in closets, and made to pummel other boys. If

he refused, counselors beat him harder. He ran away when he could, and often found his way back to Harbor City, where he sometimes stayed with his aunt, Cynthia's sister Barbary. There was always music playing. Barbery played the same records over and over, Smokey Robinson, Gladys Knight, the Delphonics, She Loved a song by George Clinton's Funkadelic Free Your Mind and Your Ass will follow and must have played at

a thousand times. Jarvis laughed to himself at the thought of who had helped him understand the words of a great lama from Tibet, George Clinton. He said it aloud, Free your mind and your ass will follow. According to the Rand Corporation Inmate Survey, about fift of people in prison claim innocence of their convicted crime, and yet the National Academy of Sciences has determined that only four percent

of those on death row are truly innocent. I wanted to hear from David as to why he was so steadfast and his conclusions that Jarvis is innocent of the crime that he was convicted of. I started to read everything I could about Jarvis, and I went up to his lawyer at the time of lawyer with Joe Baxter. And I went up to Joe's offices in Santa Rosa and there was a wall full of boxes filled with documents from years and years and years of lidication related

to his appeal. And I read volumes, and the more I read, the more I was convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt that you know that's the legal term. You know, he he was innocent and he should not be there. He had a trial that was appalling. You know, he there was no justice in this trial, and there was no reason that Jobs should be in prison. And um, so I became I feel like, there's a controvertible person. He's innocent and he was framed, and that he shouldn't

be there. Are you against the death penalty as a rule?

I am. I feel like the death penalty for both moral reasons, and I get well, it all comes down to moral reasons, but a lot of it also is the reality that I feel like, even if you understand, I mean, I do think a lot about it's easy for me to say I don't believe in the death penalty if somebody murdered, you know, the people closest to me, um, my child, or my life and my parents or somebody you know what I steal still feel that way, um, and I think it's a little presumptuous for me to

say that I would. I would, I hope I would. But regardless of that, we have to end the death penalty because it's not I mean, if there was a way to know the people that we were executing we're guilty of crimes, then you know, and if you buy the death penalty, then maybe that's you know that you can go there. But you know, if we execute one person who's innocent and we know that we have um, nobody should support the death penalty because then we are

becoming murderers, just like you know, other killers. When get let out, where are you going to take him? What's the first thing you're going to do with him? You

know what, I've whatever he wants to do. But the thing that I've always fantasized with him because I spent so much time because I'm a surfer and being outdoors and being on the beaches, so my it rejuvenates me, you know, when I'm stressed out about I'm having a hard time's uh, you know, I think about Jarvis a lot when I'm out there to walking on the beach, and I would just, you know, give anything to be able to take that walk with him. He calls himself

a fish too. He loved the water. Yeah. I mean some of the things that you know are I don't even know if they're in the book anymore because I can't remember what was cutting what wasn't cut at different points.

But you know the fact that you know, everybody has this black and white idea, this cliche of what Jarvis's life is like, and a lot of it was that, you know, that violent, brutal life, you know, gangs and drugs and violence, but you know, there were these moments of joy and of you know that, like when Jarvis told me that this kid took him out to learn how to go abaloney diving, It was like, no, you

have this rich life. Yeah, everybody who's listened to this podcast knows Jarvis's amazing sense of humor that he's able to maintain that would you true to h We laughed so much over the years. Jarvis was so funny and we just, oh, my god. You know, I don't even know if he knows how funny is. Sometimes we'll say

things and I think it's just who he is. I think it's his spirit and the fact that he was able to retain that sense of humor over the course of years as being brutalized says something about his self. It's who he is deep down inside. And it also says something about the way he can he views the world. And maybe part of the reason he survived and such you know, good shape, is that he often was able

to see this light. And sometimes the humor was gallows humor, and sometimes you know, it was just silly, frivolous stuff that would come up. But part of that being able to laugh as well as to cry, because we did cry a lot too together. It's part of his magic and maybe part of his survival. I know you interviewed a number of his family members. I was just wondering at that was a trait that was common in their family, in their dna um. You know who I did interview.

I interviewed his father and his cousin, and it's definitely a master's family trade. They laughed. It was the best was. I visited Jarvis's once with his father. The two of them spent the whole time laughing, teasing each other. You know about God, they're old times about you know how you know how much we they gained? How much? How? Oh God. He definitely got some of his sense of humors from his family, from his dad, for sure, and I saw that. And when they laughed, by the way,

it was the same booming, infectious laugh. Besides Jarvis, in writing the book, is there any other character that you came upon that made a big impression on you? I know, like Melody or my Child was the first person you mentioned in the book. Well, Jarvis is sort of you know, it's an amazing person, so it's maybe not surprising that

he's surrounded by amazing people one after the other. Melody or a Child, you know, was the investigator who connected with Jarvis at the time when he was facing a trial that ultimately led to the death penalty, and she was with one and he talks about is the one who really helped him more than anybody ever had in his life and opened them up to the idea that so sometimes we can't change her external circumstances, you know, we can control the way we perceive them and the

way we feel inside and so that and she was totally inspiring to have a children. His teacher is, of course, one of the most amazing people I've ever met and talked about, somebody who has helped millions of people and helped me at the personal level in my family. Susan Shannon, another Buddhist teacher who was the chaplain, one of the

chaplains in the prison. She is this is remarkable. I would talk to her sometimes and she loved Jarvis, and she talked about you know working with Jarvis studying Buddhism inside the prison. I mean, he just as this extraordinary person. He grabs, you know, he brings for extraordinary people around him. Rebecca sold It, you know, one of my idols and who I've always revered as a writer. You know, I got her through Jarvis because she too a friend of

Jarvis is and devoted to him. I'm blown away by everybody that I've met in his Indus circle, Like everybody, everybody is an exceptional individual, absolutely, and they really are. And and you know there's the reason for that. Again. You know, people connect with him because he's very special and you know, and he connects with people who that's probably another Buddhist precept. We don't know that good energy

attracts good energy. Yeah, yeah, there is something about that, and there is this whole you know, the world of people around Jarvis also are um. The people around Jarvis are also anybody who's gonna step foot in the prison. It says something about them if they're not being forced with guards. Because we've changed. You've got to open and be open and have a bigger heart than maybe he's expected to have a lot of people, because you have to understand and respect and be connected to the idea

that people in prison are people. You know, any of them are innocent, but they're all people. And Jarvis talked a lot about that. Yeah, what if it that Brian Stans have said that we are not our worst mistake, We are so much more than that. Several years ago, Jarvis managed to get his hands on an illicit cell phone. David writes about it in the epilogue of The Buddhist on Death Row. My phone chimed at three am, alerting me that a text had arrived. Usually I turned it off,

and but I had forgotten. And I looked at the screen. The text came from an unidentified number. It read is this working? Then the phone chimed a second time for a second text. This one was a photograph, a selfie dimly lit sitting in front of a Jimmy Hendricks poster. Was Jarvis grinning hugely. I responded, w t F. He wrote back, what does that mean? What the funk are you doing with a cell phone. It's no surprise that cell phones are banned in San Quentin and other prisons

where telephone access is strictly monitored and controlled. The prohibitions Notwithstanding, black market cell phones are thriving business in many prisons, including San Quentin. Jarvis bought his phone from an inmate, who probably bought it from a guard. Jarvis said it was better not to ask. A friend paid for cell service and Netflix. The seller's pitch included the promise of unlimited movies, so Jarvis was disappointed that the cellular signal

through the prison walls was insufficient to allow streaming. His phone got only one bar. However, necessity is the mother of invention, and prisoners have a lot of time on their hands, so they often devise ingenious workarounds. Though the signal was still too weak for streaming, Jarvis learned that

he could use some phone apps offline. He could, for instance, take photos, make video and audio recordings, and attached them to texts, which he could then send if he put the phone in a laze potato chip bag attached to a wire and slid the package under the cell door and out into the corridor where the signal was stronger. A few phone calls got through, and he sent me pictures of his cell and his tear to can through

the mesh that covered the door. He also sent a recording of an inmate complaining that Jarvis's typing was too loud as he texted another friend, this phone blew my mind wide open. I mean ten twelve hours a day. If I had money, I could have ordered a pizza

pizza emoji. He'd figured out how to use emojis. Could you see a pizza man at the front gate for a Jarvis Masters For almost four decades, Jarvis's access to technology was limited to TV, radio and the electric typewriter Pamela had sent him when he was arrested at nineteen. There were no personal computers, never mind Internet or smartphones. Once in the two thousands, when he had been in the back of a prison van taking him to the hospital, he delighted in the sights of the Blue Bay, billowing

white clouds, and the Golden hills in the distance. When he looked at street corners, he was shocked to see so many people talking to themselves. He remarked on it, and a guard told him they were on the phone, speaking through microphones and listening through earpieces. Other than that, the nearest he had got into modern technology was as it was depicted on TV, where it seemed like science fiction.

David also shares what happened to Jarvis when he was caught with the band's cell phone, along with a powerful gift of perspective from the eyes of a Buddhist practitioner. A couple of months after Jarvis got the phone, guards conducted a random search and found it The phone had been hidden inside his copy of the book We're All Doing Time. They also discovered a vape and Jarvis was written up for the infractions. After a disciplinary hearing, he

was sent to solitary where I visited him. There were no snacks, just the smeared glass wall, like when I first met him more than ten years early. Here it was sad to have a barrier between us again, but Jarvis looked good. As I was thinking that, he looked

at me and said, man, you look stressed. I told him I'd gotten a speeding ticket, that my father in law fell down and my wife was trying to help him, that we got an astronomical water bill because of a leak, and that I had spent the morning and bumper to bumper traffic. And then as I pulled off the freeway, some asshole cut me off and flipped me off. I was still frustrated and angry. When I looked over at

Jarvis and saw that he was smiling, it hit me. God, I'm sorry, I said, I'm complaining about my life here. Jarvis said, no, no, no, that's not what I'm thinking. I'm just thinking that you had a hell of a morning. You better relax. You're gonna die before me. He told me about the only time he'd been in a traffic jam in his life. He was driven to the hospital for tests after a seizure and traffic was at a standstill. The three guards and the driver were piste off, but

Jarvis was thrilled. He gazed with fascination at people in their cars. A family was an animated conversation, a woman was singing, A few drivers were alone, one appeared angry, and others were stone faced. He watched them and his heart melted. Decades before, when Jarvis had taken his first Buddhist vows Chat, Duke to kup Renpoche gave him a cryptic instruction he should learn to see the perfection of all beings. That was what he saw in the faces of the people in their cars, and he was moved

to tears. Next week, the private investigator who was assigned to Jervis's capital case thirty years ago, what she learned during her investigation, and why that led to a lifelong friendship. Audio excerpts courtesy of Simon and Schuster. Audio from The Buddhist on Death Row by David Cheff, read by Michael Boatman. Copyright by David Cheff, used with permission of Simon and Schuster, Inc. The Buddhist on Death Row is out in paperback this week.

This episode was written and produced by Donni Fazzari and myself, Corny Cole. Our theme song sentenced is compliments of the band Stick Figure from their album Set in Stone. Stu Sternbach composed the original music. Nate Dufort did the sound design. For more information on Jarvis and to find out how you can follow his case and support his cause, please

visit Free Jarvis dot org. For more podcasts. For my heart Radio, visit the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows