Contra Costa Inmate a 'Thorn In Our Side'
Note: I wrote this story while working the night cops beat, after receiving several letters from a county jail inmate complaining about his incarceration. I decided to meet with him.
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
July 22, 2001
MARTINEZ -- Gary Dale Mosbarger, shackled and confined to a windowless cell, vows to expose corruption behind the razor-curled fences at County Jail.
The 42-year-old inmate has transformed his jail cell into a miniature law firm, from which he has filed an enormous number of protests and appeals.
Mosbarger, a convicted thief, is Contra Costa County's most active and vocal critic.
"If they want me to be a spineless little cricket in here," he says, staring through a smudge-streaked window, "it's not going to happen."
Law enforcement officials say he's a thorn in their side, a convict with a misguided agenda. "Mr. Mosbarger is probably the most litigious inmate with whom I have ever come into contact in my 25 years with the sheriff's office," said Lt. John Celestre, recent commander of County Jail in Martinez.
At first glance, it's a common feud pitting an inmate's right to protest against a jail's responsibility to keep order.
In the 1999-2000 fiscal year, the state inmate appeals office recorded 10,765 inmate appeals, or nearly 900 per month. But Mosbarger's is a rare case in the county jail system, where inmates, generally serving a year or less or awaiting trial, are less feisty.
Over the years, he has waged a considerable fight to shed light on what he perceives as "a pattern of brutality" inside the county lockup.
Mosbarger believes inmates are being improperly punished and beaten and that he is often singled out for criticizing the system. His wide range of detailed complaints and allegations has created a mountain of paperwork for sheriff's deputies and court clerks.
"They've taken a hard run at me, and I've taken a hard run at them," he said.
Still, Mosbarger's single-minded quest to uncover injustice often overshadows his own struggle to stay out of jail.
A former car salesman, he has practically used a turnstile to shuttle between freedom and detention over the past decade.
His criminal background involves mostly petty theft charges. He's been arrested for swiping a pack of cigarettes and trying to steal a case of beer from a convenience store.
"He's not even a very good crook," one deputy said.
Once locked up, however, Mosbarger gets active. He feels a responsibility to report complaints on behalf of other inmates and himself, he said.
"You have to witness what I've witnessed, to see the beatings," he said, wearing a mustard jumpsuit and his brown hair combed back. "When I see these guys, they're black and blue, on crutches. And their complaints are sent back.
"I assist them in order to get the proper review of their complaints."
Celestre said jail policy requires that every grievance be properly investigated.
"This is some of my correspondence with Mr. Mosbarger," he said, pulling out a thick vanilla folder crammed with letters.
Celestre said the veteran inmate has taken full advantage of the jail's liberal appeals process, which allows serious complaints to reach Sheriff Warren E. Rupf's desk.
"He is a thorn in our side," Celestre said. "He eats up a tremendous amount of our time with his paperwork.
"But again -- and Mr. Mosbarger will probably disagree with me on this -- his protests, appeals and grievances are responded to at every level."
Mosbarger and his older brother, Wayne Mosbarger, grew up at an orphanage in Great Falls, Mont.
As they grew older, the brothers stuck together, moving across the Western United States in search of work.
Gary was a gifted salesman. While working for Toyota dealers, cars practically rolled off the lot. But unlike his brother, Gary was born without the caution gene. Soon, he developed a serious drug problem.
In the early 1980s, Gary moved to California to settle down and be closer to his biological mother.
The hectic pace of life on the coast, however, changed his course.
"He lost his way while trying to support a drug habit with his girlfriend," said Wayne Mosbarger, an art gallery framer in Tennessee. "Finally, her family cut him off. He's drifted ever since. That's when he became, well, a criminal."
Gary Mosbarger has complained bitterly and regularly since being logged into the county jail system in 1991.
To date, he has filed nearly 30 writs of habeas corpus, most of which are rejected without much consideration. Habeas corpus allows people to seek release from unconstitutional detention.
Lt. Dale Varady of internal affairs declined to discuss Mosbarger's growing file of grievances, citing pending litigation.
"They need to let him go," said Wayne Mosbarger, 43. "He'll leave the state. You think they'd roll out the red carpet for Gary at the Nevada line and say, Don't come back.'"
"It would save taxpayers a bundle on all this litigation and court stuff," he continued over the phone. "But they won't do that."
Sheriff's officials said the inmate can clean up his act and get out.
His latest troubles stem from a March 5 incident in which authorities say he became unruly and attempted to stab a deputy with a pencil.
A felony charge of obstructing and resisting officers' executive orders was added. He faces additional jail time.
Mosbarger protested the many inmates crammed into a holding cell that morning, saying it violated the fire code and posed a severe safety hazard.
He denies ever using a pencil and accuses authorities of lying and separating him from potential witnesses.
"That new charge is solely because I spoke out against those conditions," he said. "It's all part of my speaking up and exercising my First Amendment rights."
Now, his hands and ankles are shackled when he is outside of his cell because jail officials consider him potentially violent.
Mosbarger, who points to his nonviolent past, accuses the jail of using chains as punishment, not for safety.
Recently, he stood before Contra Costa Superior Court Judge Laurel Brady while his attorney protested the latest charges. She agreed that deputies had placed too many people in the cell, but rejected his petition.
"No credible evidence supports petitioner's claim that he is being tortured; that his First Amendment rights are being suppressed; that he is subject to brutality, oppression or harassment," she wrote.
By Corey Lyons
Contra Costa Newspapers
July 22, 2001
MARTINEZ -- Gary Dale Mosbarger, shackled and confined to a windowless cell, vows to expose corruption behind the razor-curled fences at County Jail.
The 42-year-old inmate has transformed his jail cell into a miniature law firm, from which he has filed an enormous number of protests and appeals.
Mosbarger, a convicted thief, is Contra Costa County's most active and vocal critic.
"If they want me to be a spineless little cricket in here," he says, staring through a smudge-streaked window, "it's not going to happen."
Law enforcement officials say he's a thorn in their side, a convict with a misguided agenda. "Mr. Mosbarger is probably the most litigious inmate with whom I have ever come into contact in my 25 years with the sheriff's office," said Lt. John Celestre, recent commander of County Jail in Martinez.
At first glance, it's a common feud pitting an inmate's right to protest against a jail's responsibility to keep order.
In the 1999-2000 fiscal year, the state inmate appeals office recorded 10,765 inmate appeals, or nearly 900 per month. But Mosbarger's is a rare case in the county jail system, where inmates, generally serving a year or less or awaiting trial, are less feisty.
Over the years, he has waged a considerable fight to shed light on what he perceives as "a pattern of brutality" inside the county lockup.
Mosbarger believes inmates are being improperly punished and beaten and that he is often singled out for criticizing the system. His wide range of detailed complaints and allegations has created a mountain of paperwork for sheriff's deputies and court clerks.
"They've taken a hard run at me, and I've taken a hard run at them," he said.
Still, Mosbarger's single-minded quest to uncover injustice often overshadows his own struggle to stay out of jail.
A former car salesman, he has practically used a turnstile to shuttle between freedom and detention over the past decade.
His criminal background involves mostly petty theft charges. He's been arrested for swiping a pack of cigarettes and trying to steal a case of beer from a convenience store.
"He's not even a very good crook," one deputy said.
Once locked up, however, Mosbarger gets active. He feels a responsibility to report complaints on behalf of other inmates and himself, he said.
"You have to witness what I've witnessed, to see the beatings," he said, wearing a mustard jumpsuit and his brown hair combed back. "When I see these guys, they're black and blue, on crutches. And their complaints are sent back.
"I assist them in order to get the proper review of their complaints."
Celestre said jail policy requires that every grievance be properly investigated.
"This is some of my correspondence with Mr. Mosbarger," he said, pulling out a thick vanilla folder crammed with letters.
Celestre said the veteran inmate has taken full advantage of the jail's liberal appeals process, which allows serious complaints to reach Sheriff Warren E. Rupf's desk.
"He is a thorn in our side," Celestre said. "He eats up a tremendous amount of our time with his paperwork.
"But again -- and Mr. Mosbarger will probably disagree with me on this -- his protests, appeals and grievances are responded to at every level."
Mosbarger and his older brother, Wayne Mosbarger, grew up at an orphanage in Great Falls, Mont.
As they grew older, the brothers stuck together, moving across the Western United States in search of work.
Gary was a gifted salesman. While working for Toyota dealers, cars practically rolled off the lot. But unlike his brother, Gary was born without the caution gene. Soon, he developed a serious drug problem.
In the early 1980s, Gary moved to California to settle down and be closer to his biological mother.
The hectic pace of life on the coast, however, changed his course.
"He lost his way while trying to support a drug habit with his girlfriend," said Wayne Mosbarger, an art gallery framer in Tennessee. "Finally, her family cut him off. He's drifted ever since. That's when he became, well, a criminal."
Gary Mosbarger has complained bitterly and regularly since being logged into the county jail system in 1991.
To date, he has filed nearly 30 writs of habeas corpus, most of which are rejected without much consideration. Habeas corpus allows people to seek release from unconstitutional detention.
Lt. Dale Varady of internal affairs declined to discuss Mosbarger's growing file of grievances, citing pending litigation.
"They need to let him go," said Wayne Mosbarger, 43. "He'll leave the state. You think they'd roll out the red carpet for Gary at the Nevada line and say, Don't come back.'"
"It would save taxpayers a bundle on all this litigation and court stuff," he continued over the phone. "But they won't do that."
Sheriff's officials said the inmate can clean up his act and get out.
His latest troubles stem from a March 5 incident in which authorities say he became unruly and attempted to stab a deputy with a pencil.
A felony charge of obstructing and resisting officers' executive orders was added. He faces additional jail time.
Mosbarger protested the many inmates crammed into a holding cell that morning, saying it violated the fire code and posed a severe safety hazard.
He denies ever using a pencil and accuses authorities of lying and separating him from potential witnesses.
"That new charge is solely because I spoke out against those conditions," he said. "It's all part of my speaking up and exercising my First Amendment rights."
Now, his hands and ankles are shackled when he is outside of his cell because jail officials consider him potentially violent.
Mosbarger, who points to his nonviolent past, accuses the jail of using chains as punishment, not for safety.
Recently, he stood before Contra Costa Superior Court Judge Laurel Brady while his attorney protested the latest charges. She agreed that deputies had placed too many people in the cell, but rejected his petition.
"No credible evidence supports petitioner's claim that he is being tortured; that his First Amendment rights are being suppressed; that he is subject to brutality, oppression or harassment," she wrote.
posted by Corey at 11:08 AM
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