I never thought that I could be victimized while behind bars, but after my ordeal
being sexually assaulted by a transport agent I learned different and soon found
myself advocating for victimized men and women. May 13th of 2001, I was picked up
by a Colorado-based private prisoner transport company Extraditions International.
The agents transporting me were Richard Almendarez, an ex Texas Dept. of Criminal
Justice guard who I found later was released for assaulting a male inmate while
on the job. Daryl Hudnall was the other guard - Richard was "training" him and I
could tell Daryl was doing all he could to get along with the power hungry male
who stood 6'4" or 6'5", 350 pounds. Immediately Richard began making sexual comments.
Much of his comments were made when his partner slept. When we stopped for gas he'd
get pretty vulgar talking about women getting gas and his "Bitch ex wife" as he'd
put it. “Why don't you come up here and get on my lap and ride me!!” Implying he
wanted me to have sex with him by climbing on top. "Tell me bedtime stories and
make sure they are X-rated."
I was shocked at how graphic he was getting, and bold. He didn't stop much to allow
all of us on the van to use the restroom -- he didn't want to feed us either. He
did it as a form of control! When we picked up a woman at LA County jail he started
in on she and I both and it was like I'd heard his lines before -- as he was saying
the same to her as he did to me. By the time we were in the California desert heading
toward Vegas, his words got violent. "I should just take you both out in the desert,
rape and shoot you!" He'd call us "sluts" and "whores" and this whole time we were
all in leg shackles, belly chains and boxed cuffs and never being able to rest and
unshackle the whole trip. The closer we got to Arizona, the more Richard was telling
us he was going to take us into Mexico over an international border and have sex
with us in a motel and there was nothing the U.S. could do -- it was out of their
jurisdiction. I remember how suddenly she and I both were afraid he was crazy enough
to force us to have sex and possibly take us over the border.
He'd heard us whispering. We both decided to report his behavior. Once we reached
Cochise county – Busbee Arizona, she reported Richard…. We…ended up being turned
around to pick up a federal prisoner in Bisbee going to Oregon. Mr. Hernandez and
Richard didn’t hit it off because the inmate stood up to Richard’s verbal and emotional
and mental abuse. Richard told him he’d yank him out of the van and beat him while
chained and he started reading The inmates’s file saying “Boy, you’re in trouble
for assault – who will they believe, you or me?”
I’d been on the van three and a half days and was exhausted. Richard would deliberately
pull into roadside parks and laugh pulling away, making us all think we were going
to get a restroom break. My kidneys had already shut down. I was dehydrated. He
told us we couldn’t drink much because he wasn’t stopping. I feel asleep exhausted
and awoke hearing him say restroom break. I noticed the clock on the radio saying
5 am. It was dark outside. Darryl and Richard pulled up in front improperly and
they took the men to the restroom and left me on the van. Richard returned. I thought
everything was fine until he goes into the restroom with me and unshackles my belly
chains leaving my right cuff on and my left off and the leg shackles remaining.
He hovers over me. I’m 5 ft and he’s 6’5” and much bigger than I am – very intimidating.
He tells me I’m going to have sex with him – then suddenly he says I’m going to
give him oral sex. I call him a pig, but soon am forced onto the cold clammy restroom
floor after he’s forced me to remove my bra and shirt, leaving it to hang off my
I was wearing a long black skirt and cowboy boots. I was told to place my feet on
the bathroom door so nobody could come in. He stood over me straddling my body leaning
against the door as he also stepped on my right hand. I continued to call him a
pig. His fingers went for the Velcro on his gunbelt. The gun was a small pistol,
black. I realized he was serious. He told me “if you cry out I’ll shoot you and
say you tried to escape.” “Who are they going to believe, me or you!” His fingers
went bumbling for his zipper. It appeared it was hard to find as his belly was large
and hung over his black uniform pants. I closed my eyes. Thoughts of my childhood
raced before my eyes of my alcoholic stepfather molesting me as a child, cutting
my jump rope in half after dragging me out of the shower by my long brown chestnut
hair and tying me to the bed and molesting me.
I opened my eyes as he ejaculated on my left breast. I went numb. I was also full
of rage. “Clean yourself up.” He brought tissue but I got up and frantically began
scrubbing his scent off of me. So hard I was rubbing my breast raw. He decided that
we would stay at the roadside park south of Pueblo Colorado for about 1 ½ hours.
He acted as if nothing happened. Darryl questioned me as to why I was so quiet.
I told the men he assaulted me. Once at the main office of Extradition International
I reported him and suddenly was being told whatever I said and reported would be
told to Richard, and unfortunately I still had to ride with him.
I figured for my safety I’d tell as much as I could but wouldn’t report the sexual
assault until I got to Steamboat Springs Colorado for fear they’d try to cover it
up and that Richard would do something to me for reporting the sexual assault. The
Director did as he said. I had Richard get back on the van and head to Steamboat
– mad and angry, telling Darryl he should blow my head off and rape me but we suddenly
developed problems with the van and we returned. All but me were put on another
van – I stayed in the burning hot van until the Director came and asked about Richard’s
behavior. Darryl came to the van driver’s side and tells the Director “Richard needs
to be stopped – He’s out of line!” I eventually was put on another van and a male
agent alone transported me. I got to steamboat and I was in shock. All I wanted
to do was shower.
By midnight I was taken into the female cell and there were 2 women in there. It
resembled a hostel rather than jail cell. Carpet, wooden bunk beds. One woman was
concerned about me – I kept taking a shower – I finally told her what had happened.
She saw the blood blisters on my belly, how dehydrated I was, my lips cracked and
swollen, and started forcing me to drink water. I was swollen – I couldn’t use the
restroom until late the next day. She told me I had to report them, to not be afraid.
I cried and cried, and suddenly a Domestic Violence organization’s head came to
see me. She then sent a counselor to see me and I was diagnosed with chronic delayed
post-traumatic stress –amnesia and anxiety. Detectives came to see me. I had to
repeat my story over and over and relive the assault. I fought myself to keep going,
thank God for the friendly inmate and the nurse at the County Jail. I drew strength
from them. I wrote hundreds of letters and finally my cry was heard by the Denver
ACLU. They turned my case over to the ACLU Prison Project’s attorneys and thge lawsuit
was filed in April 2002.
It hit all the papers. Women were coming up to me telling me how they were glad
I was standing up against my predator. Some were angry I would file on someone and
try to ruin his life, but those few were victims themselves and were doing as any
victimized person would do - condone his behavior and try to save him. But all in
all I began to draw more strength from women in prison with me. I started telling
my story – I wrote while in Roalt County for “The Local” and told my story. I found
many felt my pain. They begged me to fight for not only myself but others. I got
letters from people in Colorado more positive than negative.
I ended up being sent to Pueblo Minimum Center in Pueblo. Women recognized my name
being the woman who was assaulted by the extradition agent. I became PMC’s inmate
rep sitting in on disciplinary hearings to ensure offenders due process rights were
We have come to a settlement agreement with the company, and I intend to use some
of the funds to create United We Stand, a nonprofit that has a legal defense team
to stop the victimization of men and women…. My life is not the same. I value it
more today and I’ve become a fighter for those incarcerated. Why, because if I’d
not have gone through what I have, I’d not have become an activist. Anyone can be
assaulted. I was a concert promoter. I’m educated. Sexual assault has nothing to
do with sex – it deals with power and control. It doesn’t play favorites as to education
or color, and the only way to stop it is by breaking the silence and speaking up.
If I can touch but one life with my story it will have been well worth it…