Note: For more on the death of Hugo Pinel, which his colleagues describe as an assassination under color of law read here. An excerpt:
His assassination exemplifies how racists working in conjunction with prison authorities commit murderous acts like this. We saw it on the yard at Soledad in 1970 and we see it again on the yard at Folsom in 2015.
His life was a living hell. We witnessed the brutality inflicted on him by prison guards as they made every effort to break him.
He endured more than 50 years of sensory deprivation. For decades he was denied being able to touch his family or another human being – this as well as surviving attempts on his life. This is cruel and unusual punishment!
Hugo is not the monster that is being portrayed in social media and news media. The CDC (California Department of Corrections) is the real monster.
– PopRes
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Aug. 12, 2015, I sat waiting for the mail to come as I did each day. This day it was different because for the first time my dad was in his first lockdown on the mainline. He had only been there 15 days – abruptly moved on July 29 after a meeting with the DRB (Departmental Review Board) on July 28. Each day I waited to hear from him hoping and praying he was OK. Finally the mailman 
delivered the letter I was waiting for.
Here are quotes from Daddy’s letter I received the day he was killed. It’s dated Aug. 10, 2015 – a small sample of my loving Dad:
“Hi, Presiosa. Thinking of you always and loving you more with each heartbeat. Sending more love to the family and to All other true loved ones. It is Monday morning and it appears that the program is getting back to normal because more prisoners were let out for work assignments, but nothing official. No yard today; I know for sure because it is 12:00 p.m. and we usually go out at 11 a.m.
“My Sweetheart Daughter, I love you, love you honey. I felt uncomfortable posing for our first photo. I was nervous; somehow I mustered up a smile. Then you got almost behind me, put your arms around me and I felt wonderful. Do take much care, give everyone more love and Yogi Bear hugs, and keep loving me.
“More hugs, kisses, and love,
“Your Daddy, Hugo L. Antonio”
Just a couple of hours after receiving my Dad’s letter, wherein he was telling me not to worry because he was OK and the lockdown had been placed on modified program; the phone rang and I answered it – to hear the news of my Dad being killed.
My heart was instantly broken. I fell to my knees … they killed my Daddy!
The news reports started coming in. On every television channel, they were talking about him being the most notorious and the most dangerous man in the CDCR (California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation). To hear them describe my Dad that way was akin to killing him over and over again.
They referred to him as inmate A88401. To mainstream media, he was just another inmate, the worst of the worst. To so many, including many of the inmates, he was considered a living legend. He was considered to be the one who could not be broken.
My Dad was the best dad in the world. He used to say: “Honey I can’t give you much because I am here, and you are out there. The one thing I can give you is love.” Those words became the beginning of the best days of my life.He was the committed one, the one with vision and fortitude. To those who knew him personally, he was even more: He was the first born son, first grandchild, the big brother, the uncle, the nephew, and even the cousin. To me he was simply DAD!
Each and every weekend I couldn’t wait to see him. My Dad was soft spoken and honest in sharing with me anything I wanted to know about the past, the present and the future.
He was the committed one, the one with vision and fortitude. To those who knew him personally, he was even more: He was the first born son, first grandchild, the big brother, the uncle, the nephew, and even the cousin. To me he was simply DAD!
We had the best times together in our visits. He would talk and I listened. I talked and he listened. We cried and laughed together.
We went on imaginary trips back to San Francisco to our old neighborhood to Mission Delores Park, always together. It was our way of escaping the reality that he was in there and I was out here.
He would sing songs to me in English and in Spanish. He would tell me how blessed he felt to have me in his life and how spending time with me felt like a reward for the time he had invested in becoming a new man.
My Dad was a class act of love. No matter what he endured, he kept pushing on. He often stated that the continuous love and support he received was his backbone.
No matter what he endured, he kept pushing on.
My Dad shall be remembered as unifier of people. He lived, fought and died with purpose. His conviction as a humanitarian made him a revolutionary and an agent for change. His principal sense of integrity and love was the foundation of his strength.
My Dad shall be remembered as unifier of people. He lived, fought and died with purpose. His conviction as a humanitarian made him a revolutionary and an agent for change. His principal sense of integrity and love was the foundation of his strength.
In Loving Memory of my Dad