## The Injustice I Faced: A Story of Wrongful Incarceration and Systemic Failure
My name is Gary Bogatz. In July 2022, a 68-month prison sentence landed me in St. Cloud. While I understand prison isn’t a vacation, the summer heat in my un-air-conditioned cell was an unbearable ordeal. This was just the beginning of a series of injustices that would mark my 16 months of wrongful incarceration.
My cellmate’s erratic behavior—bragging about his criminal past and refusing to comply with prison regulations—escalated into a confrontation with guards. The ensuing chaos spilled into our cell. Despite my repeated protests of non-involvement, I was handcuffed to the bars while guards in riot gear pepper-sprayed my cellmate, myself, and all our belongings. Six more guards joined the fray, cramming eight people into a cell designed for one. In the struggle to subdue my cellmate, I was pushed and my head repeatedly struck the bars. Subsequently placed on investigative review, I was confined to the cell for 24 hours, blind, bruised, and alone—no phone, no shower, only the lingering taste of pepper spray.
Shortly afterward, a COVID-19 outbreak swept through the facility. Starting with the prisoner above me, within four days, sixty inmates were infected. A fourteen-day lockdown ensued during an August heatwave, during which I was afforded only two showers and a single phone call.
Upon testing negative, I was transferred to the Faribault correctional facility, where overpopulation was rampant. Inmates were crammed together like firewood, with a single guard responsible for over 200 prisoners. Understaffing severely restricted movement for four months, despite the facility’s medium-security designation.
Desperate for a change, I applied to and was accepted into the Prison Fellowship Academy in Lino Lakes, a yearlong faith-based program. This program proved life-changing, instilling valuable leadership skills and core values. However, even within this rehabilitative environment, problems persisted. The Department of Corrections acknowledged in September 2023 that three out of ten faucets tested positive for lead levels exceeding EPA limits. For several days, we received seven bottles of water each—a meager supply for the facility’s thousand inmates—before the supplementary water was abruptly discontinued without any further explanation or assurance of improved water quality.
Later, a fellow inmate was killed after a dispute with another prisoner. The unit’s new lieutenant had previously prohibited cell changes despite both inmates requesting separation. This tragedy underscored the dangerous consequences of ignoring inmates’ concerns.
These are but a few glimpses into the struggles faced by myself and fellow inmates. The overriding message is clear: our current correctional system is fundamentally flawed. Instead of fostering rehabilitation, it perpetuates a cycle of abuse, hindering inmates’ chances of reintegration into society. The data clearly demonstrates that our approach is failing. It’s time for a paradigm shift, refocusing the prison system’s mission on genuine rehabilitation and offering inmates the hope of becoming productive, law-abiding citizens.
My own experience culminated on December 23, 2023, when, after 16 months of wrongful incarceration, my appeal was successful and I was released—the day after graduating from the Prison Fellowship Academy. The joy and relief felt by my fellow inmates upon hearing the news was palpable; it felt like a Christmas miracle. The reunion with my wife and children was filled with overwhelming love and emotion.
After a four-year legal battle, my case was ultimately dismissed. While justice was finally served, it came at a steep price. My family and I endured immense mental and financial strain. Furthermore, repeated COVID-19 infections and exposure to lead-contaminated water have resulted in long-term damage to my vocal cords, significantly impacting my ability to speak.
But I refuse to let this silence me. While my voice may be limited, my pen remains my weapon. I will continue to advocate for the just treatment of all prisoners, both innocent and guilty. We all deserve justice.
*By Gary Bogatz, Minnesota Reformer, January 24, 2025*