CHAPTER 1
Kenedy is located in the southern part of Texas, some 62 miles southeast of San Antonio. With a population of 3,763, it is the largest city in Karnes County, serving as an economic hub for the outlying agricultural and ranching area. First called Kenedy Junction when it was founded as a town site in 1886, Kenedy grew up rapidly due to its position as a major stop on the San Antonio and Arkansas Pass Railroad. With growth came bad guys, mostly gunfighters, and by the turn of the century Kenedy was being referred to as "Six-Shooter Junction." With little else besides agriculture and ranching to support its economy, the area remained primarily rural and waseventually outgrown by communities in other parts of the state.
After the United States entered World War II, the community became the home of the Kenedy Intemment Camp. Originally a Civilian Conservation Corps Camp, the internment camp materialized after the U.S. Government persuaded a number of Latin American countries to deport people of German, Japanese, and Italian ancestries to the U.S. so that they could be exchanged for Allied prisoners, particularly for those in Japan. The first 700 or so internees arrived in April 1942, and the camp housed about 2,000 internees by the following year. The Japanese internees ran a 32-acre vegetable farm located nearby, and the German internees ran a slaughterhouse. Today a residential area occupies the site.
Nearly a century after being nicknamed "Six-Shooter Junction," Kenedy still has a large number of bad guys in its midst. Few people paid them any mind, however, because everyone believed that they were safely confined, with little or no chance of escape, behind the walls of the John Connally Unit--a maximum-security prison located just outside of town and operated under the jurisdiction of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. Until recently most people outside the region hadn't even heard of Kenedy, Texas. That all changed on Wednesday, December 13, 2000, when seven of society's lowest dregs would stage a brazen, commandolike prison break, a breakout that was orchestrated with such military precisionand efficiency that some would speculate it must have taken a year or longer to plan.
December 13 turned out to be a particularly cold day in Kenedy. The temperature remained below 30 degrees during the early morning hours, between midnight and four A.M., and it only warmed up to the low forties by that afternoon. It rained more than an inch in South Texas that morning, and the temperature brought the threat of freezing rain. Because of the inclement weather conditions, prisoners of the Connally Unit's inside yard squad were not required to turn out for their work duties. Other prisoners, however, whose work duties were normally performed indoors, were not affected by the weather restriction.
George Rivas, 30, inmate number 702267, was serving 99 years for aggravated kidnapping and burglary committed in El Paso, and he was tired of life behind prison walls. Although he had attained trustee status and a job in the prison's maintenance department, considered one of the best duty assignments in the prison, he had become disheartened by the grim prospect of never walking the streets a free man again, of spending his nights confined to an austere 8' X 8' cell equipped with only a bunk, a wash basin, and a toilet. He was sick of the lousy food that was typically served in the mess hall, and he was tired of hearing the metal doors slide shut after he returned to his cell at lockdown. Rivas had been making plans for some time, along with six other inmates, to do somethingabout it, and he had decided that this was the day to carry out his plans.
It was 11:20 A.M. when guards and supervisors returned 20 inmates who were assigned to the maintenance department, to their housing areas. Then the guards and supervisors went to lunch, which was what Rivas and his cohorts had counted on. Earlier, these five had convinced Patrick Moczygemba, a maintenance supervisor, to allow them to remain behind to wax and seal the maintenance department's floors. That, they figured correctly, would be effective in keeping most of the other prisoners, as well as the guards, out of the area. They had also convinced Moczygemba to allow them to take their lunch in a "picnic spread" in the maintenance area and to use food that they had purchased at the commissary, instead of eating with the rest of the prison population in the dining area. It was a privilege afforded the best-behaved inmates, and Moczygemba had agreed to allow them this "luxury." Since it was not uncommon for this group of prisoners to be assigned special projects in the maintenance department, Moczygemba agreed to stay and watch Rivas, as well as Joseph Garcia, 29, Randy Halprin, 23, Larry Harper, 37, and Donald Newbury, 38, while the other supervisors went to lunch. Mark Burgess, another maintenance supervisor, allowed one of the inmates under his authority, Patrick Murphy, 39, to also remain in the department for lunch to assist the others in completing the project.
Another inmate, Michael Rodriguez, 38, who wasin on the plan, had been assigned to the inside yard squad that day, but due to the inclement weather he was forced to abide by the weather-related work restriction that the rest of his squad was under. However, Rodriguez had previously made an appointment to visit the law library, which he kept that particular morning. After about an hour, he checked out at 9:40 A.M., and was subsequently, albeit inadvertently, allowed through the gate at the A turnout area. There he gained access to the maintenance area (where he was not supposed to be) after telling guards that he had been assigned to pick up trash. Rodriguez spent much of the remainder of the morning sitting on a bench just outside the maintenance department, where several prison employees later recalled seeing him. No one, except for the escapees, knew that he had positioned himself as the lookout for the other six inmates while they put their plan into motion.
By 11:30 A.M. there was no turning back. Moczygemba, dressed in a gray-and-black flannel shirt, Wrangler blue jeans, a Ranger belt, and brown Red Wing boots, was sitting at his desk in the maintenance office when Rivas came in and got his attention.
"You're needed in the warehouse," Rivas told him.
Without questioning Rivas, Moczygemba pushed his paperwork aside and got up from his desk. When he reached the warehouse, located behind the maintenance department, the other inmates were busy clearing the floor so that they could begin waxing and sealing. Nothing seemed to be amiss, and when Moczygembaasked why he was needed, Harper joined Rivas and pointed to a large motor on the floor, beneath a table.
"What should we do with that motor?" Harper asked without a trace of uneasiness in his voice as he gestured toward the motor. "We need to get it off the floor."
As Moczygemba leaned down to look at the motor, one of the inmates, brandishing an ax handle, rushed over and struck him in the head.
The blow rendered him momentarily unconscious. Then, as he regained some of his senses, the dazed and blurry-eyed Moczygemba began to struggle with the inmates. Garcia ended the scuffle by holding a handmade knife to the supervisor's neck.
"A few more years to our sentences don't mean anything to us," Garcia said. "We'll kill you if we need to."
Moczygemba stopped struggling, and the inmates proceeded to remove his pants and shirt. Afterward they tied his hands and legs, shoved a gag inside his mouth, and placed a pillowcase over his head. They then carried him to the electrical room at the back of the warehouse where they forced him to lie facedown on the floor.
The inmates also stole his...
