Frank Russo's life in prison with ex-CIA agent John Kiriakou
'Letter from Loretto' offers a glimpse of former auditor's new world
Former Cuyahoga County Auditor Frank Russo leaves a federal court hearing with his attorney Roger Synenberg last year.(The Plain Dealer)
Frank Russo's days in the prison chow line are a little different than his strolls through the region's top restaurants.
Instead of flashing a smile to get a seat at the best tables, Russo must now offer proof that he isn't a pedophile before he can sit down.
His entertainment, once gambling trips paid by crooked contractors, often is limited to ESPN, MTV and a few other choice channels. If he doesn't like what he's watching, he can always fight for something better.
And his current sleeping quarters are a far cry from his luxury house in Mayfield. Today, it's just he and five others in a slab of a cell block.
The glimpse of Russo's daily prison life comes from one of his cellmates, John Kiriakou, a former CIA agent who wrote "The Reluctant Spy: My Secret Life in the CIA's War on Terror." Kiriakou worked 14 years at the agency. His book detailed the government's interrogation and torture techniques involving suspected terrorists.
Former CIA agent John Kiriakou says he shares a cell in the Federal Correctional Institution with former Cuyahoga County Auditor Frank Russo. The Associated Press
Last year, federal prosecutors accused him of disclosing the identity of a CIA covert agent to a reporter. He pleaded guilty to charges involving the release of national defense information and was sentenced earlier this year to 30 months in prison.
In "A Letter from Loretto," Kiriakou talks about the Federal Correctional Institution in Loretto, Pa.,and the people, including Russo, who make it up. Kiriakou's attorney, Jesselyn Radack, said she forwarded the letter to firedoglake.com, a progressive web site.
"My cell is more like a cubicle made out of a concrete block," Kiriakou wrote in the letter.
"Built to hold four men, mine holds six. Most others hold eight. My cellmates include two Dominicans serving 24- and 20-year sentences for drugs, a Mexican serving 15 years for drugs, a Puerto Rican serving 71/2 years for drug conspiracy and the former auditor of Cuyahoga County, Ohio, who is doing a long sentence for corruption. They're all decent guys, and we actually enjoy each other's company."
Russo's attorney, Roger Synenberg, declined to comment.
Kiriakou said the prison has about 1,400 inmates; half of whom are black, 30 percent Hispanic and the rest white.
"Of the white prisoners, most are pedophiles with personal stories that would make you sick to your stomach," he wrote. "The rest of the white prisoners are here for drugs, except for a dozen or so who ran Ponzi schemes."
And whether an inmate is a pedophile determined where they sit at lunch.
"On my first day, two Aryans, completely covered in tattoos, walked up to me and asked, 'Are you a pedophile?' Nope, I said," Kiriakou wrote.
They then demanded proof. They wanted a copy of his formal sentencing documents to prove that he wasn't a child molester.
"I did that and was welcomed by the Aryans, who aren't really Aryans but more accurately self-important hillbillies," Kiriakou wrote.
Exactly where a person sits is mapped out, he said. There is a table for Aryan whites who have documents that prove they are not pedophiles, a section of a table for Native Americans, two tables for Muslims and four tables for pedophiles. There also is a section of a table for people "belonging to a certain Italian-American stereotypical 'subculture,' " Kiriakou wrote.
He wrote that violence appears limited to television viewing: "There have been maybe a half-dozen fights, almost always over what television show to watch. The choices are pretty much set in stone between ESPN, MTV, VH1, BET and Univision. I haven't watched TV since I got here. It's just not worth the trouble."
Russo and his fellow inmates face another issue: guards.
Kiriakou wrote in his letter that after a female guard ripped him because his name was so hard to pronounce, he walked away with a fellow inmate. The friend called the guard's actions "classy." Kiriakou was more harsh: "White trash is more like it."
Soon, several guards trashed the two men's cells in a search.
"Lesson learned: Corrections officers can treat us like sub-humans, but we have to show them faux respect even when it's not earned," Kiriakou wrote.
Plain Dealer news researcher Jo Ellen Corrigan contributed to this report.
http://www.cleveland.com/metro/index.ssf/2013/06/frank_russos_life_in_prison.html