I have been visiting Sean in prison at Corcoran for over 5 years now, so I have had a lot of time to get to know the area. The town of Corcoran is very small, and vastly different in comparison to what I am used to from living in Northern California all my life. Corcoran is not a place anyone would choose to go if traveling for just fun,  so that presents an interesting dynamic.  It is not a place many people have heard of, nobody ever knows what I am talking about, I have to tell them it’s  between Fresno and Bakersfield.

The town of Corcoran is mostly known for it’s prisons: California State Prison Corcoran and Corcoran Substance Abuse Treatment Facility (SATF), which are two separate facilities but share the same piece of land back to back. According to Wikipedia: “The prison inmates are counted as city residents by both the United States Census and the California Department of Finance, the incarcerated persons in the two prisons comprise just over 43% of the total population of Corcoran.”

The first time I traveled to Corcoran what stuck me most was the smell of cow manure. At times it is so strong that I can just about taste it, the pungent air scratches my throat.  Sometimes it’s barely noticeable, and my brain only registers it when I first arrive. Sean says he barely notices it anymore, that he might smell it if the breeze is just right, but it doesn’t bother him.

Then there is the fog. In the cooler seasons, there are often large patches of dense white fog hoovering about a foot above the fields like a strange ghostly cloud. In the winter months sometimes the fog suddenly envelopes my moving vehicle, leaving me in a complete white-out and I am forced to inch my way along the road cautiously until I come out on the other end. The prison even has a specific protocol for foggy days because it is so commonplace and problematic that time of year. They take it pretty seriously because it is a “safety concern”…as if someone could just disappear into the fog.

The crops grown in Corcoran are mainly cotton and corn. As I pass by the cotton fields, stray fluff lines the sides of the roads in harvest season. The town holds an annual Cotton Festival to celebrate the area’s biggest crop. The roads to the prison are bordered by nothing but cotton , hay fields and tall corn stalks. Most of the time I will encounter a large tractor sharing the road with me.

The actual town of Corcoran is tiny, even in compassion to the small rural town Sean and I grew up in. I go there to get ice, suppliers or use the restroom when I get out of the prison visiting because it is the closest place for quite a while. We used to have friends living in Corcoran whom I would stay with on long weekend visits and my sleep was always interrupted by the loud trains that roll through. Amtrak passes by many times throughout the day and night as do huge freight trains that seem to go on for miles. We regularly hear the trains from the prison.  It is commonplace to encounter the trains while driving on long stretches which always puts me in a strange space where it feels as if I am no longer moving, it’s really disorienting.

I have been driving by myself to Corcoran for about 4 years now and these days I travel there about once a month, leaving my home at around 3:30 or 4 am. On the long drive as I get closer to Corcoran I can feel my excitement building as the telltale signs slowly start to appear. The sun rises, and the day begins with hay bales, giant tractors, old run down farm houses, barns and tiny road side markets.

Despite being a pretty insignificant blip on the map in the middle of nowhere, Corcoran holds a lot of special meaning for Sean and I. We have so many memories there. We have spent countless hours at regular visit and Family Visit (46 hour visit), it would be impossible to try to calculate how many. It is where we fell in love, had our first kiss, got married, where we spend our time and live out our lives. It is a place where we have shivered in the cold and sweat out the immense heat together, where we have struggled and overcome, where we have slept and dreamed together.  It is a place of pain but also great happiness. It is my other home, the place where we get to be together.

Photos taken in or near Corcoran, CA on my travels

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Family Visit by Sean


The first time that I was in the Family Visiting unit waiting for my wife Emelia to be brought in was the first time in 15 years I felt alone. In prison, each day is exactly the same; very little changes and when it does it happens slowly and gradually. I live in a world of constant control, guards, fences, concrete walls, razor wire; always watched. Suddenly I was in a situation where the guard simply left me by myself without instruction. The feeling of being alone was alien, and frankly, it became overwhelming.

To get to the Family Visiting area, the guard had to escort me in handcuffs off the prison yard I live on. To do so, he had to first process me through the check point where one either enters or leaves the prison yard. This meant going through two locked gates, two locked doors, a strip search, processing through a metal detector and verifying my identity. Then there was a long walk through the prison grounds before processing through a second check point. This one only had one locked gate, two locked doors, and another verification of my identity. Next we took a shorter walk to the Family Visiting unit and through a single locked gate. That was where the guard unceremoniously left me as if it were normal. To me, there was nothing normal about being left alone. It felt like the most freedom I had been given in 15 years.

To be waiting for my wife by myself in a new place was a shock, I felt like it took forever. I was constantly checking the clock, each time realizing only a minute or two had passed. Then finally I heard the rumble of the cart my wife must push, bringing all of our supplies: clothes for the weekend, hygiene supplies, cooking/eating supplies, bedding, and our food. Once I knew my wife was coming, my heart raced. I was so excited for this moment, something we never thought we would be able to share until I was free. As I heard the rumbling of the cart it seemed to go on forever, I knew she was coming but where was she? The concrete wall outside in the yard blocked my view.

Then I saw her, she was there! My wife was really there for our first Family Visit, time together that we had waited and waited and waited for.

Before we knew it, our first Family Visit was over. The time we had waited so long for, and felt so amazingly good to share was gone. It was over before either of us were ready to say goodbye. But let’s be honest, we are never ready to day goodbye.

To date, we have been lucky to get 8 Family Visits so far and each time this is true. We cannot wait to have our time together, we eagerly anticipate the time we are blessed with. Emelia works so hard to prepare, securing her day off work, filling out and returning the confirmation paperwork for the Family Visiting Officer, packing all our items, and waking up at 3 am to drive down to Corcoran to wait to be processed into the prison. She has to literally come to prison and remain inside for us to have this time together, leaving all the comforts of freedom behind. Then the 46 hours we are given seem to slip by long before they should be able to.

“Approximately 46 hours” is all CDCR allows for a Family Visit. Families wait several weeks, sometimes months for a Family Visit. The longest we have had to wait was 3 months, which is short compared to many other facilities where families may wait up to 6 months or more. Scheduling here all depends on the number of eligible inmates requesting a date.

The time between Family Visits is hard. Having been in prison for so long, I had forgotten how spending real time with someone you love can feel. Real life had faded for me while in prison in a way I did not understand. I had lost touch with feeling free without even realizing it had happened. Being in prison is so isolating and confining, having this time with my wife is an escape to freedom. At Family Visit we are free to be ourselves in a way we have previously never been allowed to under the control of regular prison visiting.

During one of our Family Visits we watched a thunder storm in the distance. The storm gave us an amazing show of lightning flashing from intense clouds which lasted several minutes. Another time we were the audience at a performance of over a thousand birds dancing and diving in the sky as they flew in sync. Like a school of fish in formation, swimming in the air. The way these birds flew together over and over as one was breathtaking. A few times we have seen the moon and stars in the dark night sky; finding the constellations of Orion’s Belt and the Big Dipper. Stargazing in prison is a rare treat due to the high intensity lighting that normally drowns them out; seeing them with my wife is priceless. We delight in finding tidbits of actual nature during our time together; flowers, ice, sometimes even creatures.

I have also found great happiness in being able to cook for my wife. Before I was wrongfully incarcerated I loved to cook, I even considered the possibility of going to culinary school. In prison there is no opportunity to cook. What inmates generally consider ‘cooking’ is adding hot water to pre-cooked freeze-dried beans, rice, pre-packaged meals, and processed foods. At Family Visit we have to use some of the same items but we have access to a real kitchen and certain foods we do not get inside prison. My favorite thing to cook for Emelia is my scrambled eggs, she says they are the best. I love to watch her eat them as we sit together enjoying our breakfast. The breakfast I made.

The moment of goodbye always comes too soon. It’s the hardest part of every Family Visit, especially when we have to use our last fleeting moments to pack everything up and clean the unit. Then we wait for the officers to come, hear the gate crash closed behind them. Their keys jangle loudly when they approach our sanctuary. My heart aches knowing the best part of my life is about to be ripped away from me.

Officially we are allowed one last kiss before Emelia must push the loaded cart down the walkway and out the gate. If we are lucky, she is able to stand at the fence while the officers collect the next family visitors. When we can, we take these moments for our fingers to intertwine through the fence. I am still locked inside while she is almost free. We steal a kiss and share a few more words of love and I always tell her I will be praying for her as she drives home. Then we hear the officers coming and we break apart, not wanting to be seen as breaking the rules.

This is where my wife must really walk away. I se the resolve and strength in her face as she fights back tears. It is crushing. I hear the rumble from the carts fade away and slowly walk back into the Family Visiting unit, not knowing when my wife will be allowed to come back, praying it will be soon. I fight back tears of my own as once again I find myself alone.

Written by Sean, October 2018

Sean’s original writing

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Still Waiting

When my habeas corpus petition was before the federal Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, the oral arguments hearing was held July 6, 2015. Just over 3 months later on October 25, 2016, the Ninth Circuit Court issued their ruling ordering an Evidentiary Hearing to be held. In the Ninth Circuit’s ruling they stated, “O’Brien’s state habeas petition alleged facts that, if accepted as true, showed that trial counsel failed to introduce available evidence that would have significantly strengthened O’Brien’s defense. Indeed, if believed, the additional evidence would have rendered it virtually impossible for O’Brien to have committed the murder with which he was charged.” and “Competent counsel would not have failed to put such evidence before the jury.”

Based on this ruling there was hope I may have my rightful freedom restored within months; that I would soon be home. Then the reality of our broken legal system sank in.

The Evidentiary Hearing was not held until January 17 and 18, 2017; over a year after the Ninth Circuit’s ruling. My case always seems to be plagued with one delay or another; continuously dragging out the fight for my freedom.

For example, at the conclusion of the Evidentiary Hearing, the Magistrate unexpectedly ordered my lawyers and the Attorney General’s office to provide additional briefs. My lawyers did not expect that and told me it’s almost unheard of to have additional briefs after an Evidentiary Hearing. Briefs had already been filed before the hearing. The evidence was produced at the hearing. The additional briefs took 9 months for the last one to be filed. There were several extensions requested on filing deadlines for the briefs, prolonging my wrongful incarceration.

On September 20, 2017, the last brief was filed. We are still waiting for the Magistrate’s ruling over one year later. It is now October 2018 and I am coming up on 16 years of being wrongfully incarcerated. It has been over 3 years since the Ninth Circuit’s ruling stating that the evidence makes it virtually impossible for me to be involved in the crime. I am innocent and we proved that with the evidence at the Evidentiary Hearing 21 months ago.

The waiting feels endless. No one knows when the waiting will end or when the Magistrate will issue her ruling. All that can be done is to wait and pray.

Thank you all for your support and prayers.

-Sean October 8, 2018

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Sean’s original writing:

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That time we went to a pizza place….just kidding!


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Family Visit 8: True Colors

Sean and I had our 8th Family Visit September 22nd-24th 2018.

Family Visiting seems separated from the rest of the world, and it is. It feels cut off from everything, sort of like being aware while dreaming. Maybe it’s because of the rules, or the lack of cell phones, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation or a combination of these. It feels so different than my typical day to day life. There is nothing that has to get done, no places to go, no one bothers us or wants anything from us besides when Sean has to do count. Apart from counts and cleaning, we don’t need to do anything but enjoy our time together. That is an unfamiliar feeling for both of us because we are so used to busy important roles, responsibilities and task filled days. There are also the weeks in between, so that when we are together I have to keep reminding myself that it is really happening. It is an amazing feeling, one that we both wish would last much longer than 46 hours. Prison is just so different, so far removed from the outside world that trying to describe it is impossible.

Our time together was real. I was super tired both from waking up at 3 am and the long hours at my new job. Sean took on the task of cleaning the unit for us, disinfecting surfaces, unpacking our belongings, making our tea and getting the food set up while I rested. He really stepped up for me and did most of our cooking and all of our cleaning.

We got to watch some movies, including ‘Trolls’, which is a recent favorite. Almost all of the DVDs available for Family Visit are children’s movies but luckily this one is really good. We enjoy the humor, songs, and Sean says I brought his colors back like Poppy did for Branch. “I see your true colors.

On Monday morning Sean got up for the 5 am count and when he came back I went back to sleep while he began getting us ready for departure. All of a sudden, I was awakened by a strange and unexpected sound. Once out of the sleepy fog, I realized it was Sean. Alarmed, I ran to the bathroom. He was pale, throwing up in the toilet, and the water in the sink was running full blast. Concerned, I sat on the edge of the bathtub next to him, rubbing my hand over his back. Why was I so shocked you may ask. For starters Sean is almost never sick, in the 5 years we have been together he has only had a cold twice. Plus, he had been feeling completely fine up to this point in our visit and I have never seen him throw up before, so it was the last thing I had expected to happen. I felt really bad that he was experiencing this now, during our last few hours together. He explained how it happened, and we think he was just too full from eating the “normal” food. “Poor Honey Bear” I said, handing him a cold bottle of water.

It was good to have a chance to be there for my husband when he needed me. We rarely have this opportunity which hurts both of us. We want so badly to be able to comfort and help each other, but sadly our situation doesn’t allow many chances for that to happen.

Most of the time when either of us is sick or hurting, we have no choice but to continue on alone and just do the best we can. There is no one to help us, we go to work and have duties that cannot go undone. Its is hard, but it generally goes unnoticed because there is nothing we can do about it and the rest of the world seems like it couldn’t be bothered. But this Family Visit, we got to be there for each other and it felt good.

Thank you for reading. Comments/ Questions? Find us on Twitter @EmeliaO’Brien12, Facebook,Instagram & GoFundMe

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Exciting news! We are now on Twitter @EmeliaO’Brien12 & Instagram. We also have a public group page on Facebook, and have created a GoFundMe page for Sean’s support team. Anyone who wishes to connect with us, please do!

Thanks everyone.

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The Dresser Project

After acquiring some clothing for Sean to wear at Family Visiting, I needed a place to store them. I also felt like I wanted to have a dresser for him when he comes home, with the clothes that he already knows inside it. But I didn’t want to go out and pay for a brand new good quality dresser and they are quite hard to find second hand around here. So I decided to leave it up to fate.

Then one day in January I was walking our dog the same route I normally go, not paying any attention, he pulled me clear across the street to bring me to a discarded old dresser on the sidewalk. It looked OK, kind of beat up and forlorn looking. It was, however, quite sturdy; build of solid wood. So it had good bones and I thought maybe with a little love it could serve it’s purpose again. I managed to fit it into my car and brought it home.

A few days later I stared at it seemingly waiting for me outside. It needed some work and I wondered if perhaps I had bitten off more than I can chew. Luckily my neighbor friend gave me some pointers and let me borrow some tools. So I set to work putting a lot of care and time into making it special for Sean.

Step 1. Peel off the contact paper The drawers were lined with outdated contact paper. Some parts were difficult to get up and some parts came up in huge satisfying strips. Underneath the wood was nice.

Step 2. Sanding I had never sanded anything this large before. It was a fair amount of work. I took it in stages, working on it in pieces. Sometimes I sanded it at night after work with my earbuds to drown out the noise. I only did this part of the project to get rid of most of the layers of old varnish and paint, not to strip it down completely.

Step 3. Wash it down with soap and water Luckily the dry winter air dried out the wood again quickly.

Step 4. Paint! I put this stage of the project off for several months, by this time it was late summer, but luckily we had perfect weather for painting. I started with 2 coats of white primer for the base using a cheap roller and 2″ brush, followed by 2 coats of Behr dark gray paint. I enjoy painting so this part of the project was fun to do.

Step 5. Sand to create a distressed look The dresser was already distressed to begin with, it has lots of little nicks and bumps that are perfect for this style. All I had to do was sand off some of the black paint before it cured to allow the white layer to show through. Ta-da! The thing I love about this look is it’s not difficult to achieve with a reasonable budget and simple know-how, even for someone inexperienced like me.

Step 6. Hardware A good friend brought over a drill and showed me how to use it to make the holes needed for the knobs. I drilled almost all the holes myself and installed the knobs I had picked out.

Step 7. Liner Paper I found some really cool black and white newsprint paper I wanted to use to give the insides a really uniform look. I thought it was a nice touch and tied the whole piece together.






I ended up with something I am really proud of. It’s a piece I know we will enjoy for years to come, all for a fraction of the cost of a new dresser and much more unique. I learned about fixing up old furniture along the way, its really fun.  The dresser is a meaningful gift for Sean and one he knows I put a lot of love into making just for him.

Thank you to our friends who helped make this dresser project possible with borrowed tools, knowledge and advice! Much love

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