A Taste of Freedom

by Kevin Mitnick

What a difference 44 days make.  Just about seven weeks ago, I was dressed in prison-issued khakis, a prisoner at the U.S. Federal Correctional Institution in Lompoc, California.  Last Thursday, March 2, 2000, I presented my written and verbal testimony to the United States Senate Governmental Affairs Committee that described how to increase information security within government agencies.  Wow.

Even more important than my testimony in front of the U.S. Senate has been my father's recent heart attack, his triple bypass surgery, and the staph infection he suffered during his hospital stay.  Although his surgery was a success, fighting the staph infection has proven extremely difficult.  My primary occupation since my release has been taking care of my father's needs.  He's fiercely independent, and his sudden reliance on others has been very stressful for all concerned.

When I haven't been taking care of my father, I've been participating in many different interviews, and that's where my supporters deserve so much credit.  You have done a great job of getting the word out about my case, and I'm trying to keep up the momentum you all established.  Just as you used protests, fliers, and websites to publicize the facts about my case, I'm doing radio, television, and print appearances to do the same thing.

Many thousands of you sent letters to me while I was in prison.  Some of you may think because I didn't reply that I didn't care about the letters, but quite the opposite was true.  My defense team was concerned that anything said by me would be manipulated by the prosecutors, and used by the court to punish me even more severely.  I received letters from people in this country and from countries around the world, the vast majority of which were tremendously supportive.  A handful of those letters were hateful, but I simply ignored them.  No matter how much I wanted to answer many of the letters, I simply couldn't.  The postage was another burden, and for those of you who sent stamps, I hope your realize now that the prison staff treats stamps as "contraband," and will either seize them or return them to sender when they find them in a letter to a federal inmate.

On The Inside

"Doing time" is a strange thing.  When you're on the inside, you can't look out you have to pretend as though the outside doesn't even exist.  Letters are a welcome break to the routine, but as soon as I read them, I'd have to focus and get back into my rhythm of pretending there were no cars outside my window, that there were no people living their lives.  During my five years inside, I looked at the sky only to see the weather, and I rarely looked at the cars or the people.

I spent most of my waking hours working on my case, or corresponding with supporters and attorneys who were helping me with legal research.  I took the energy I used to spend on hacking and I basically trained myself in law.  This took a great deal of time and energy, since I've never had any formal training in law.  Many of the attorneys who donated their time and expertise were especially helpful in guiding my legal research, and to them I am particularly grateful.

Conditional Freedom

I spend much of the time available to me when I'm not caring for my father figuring out how to earn a living in light of the overly broad, unreasonable restrictions imposed by Judge (((Mariana Pfaelzer))).  While I was at the World Trade Center in New York with a friend recently, I saw an iMac used to select gifts from the shop - technically, if I used that iMac I would violate the terms of my supervised release.  If I even used a computer to purchase a MetroCard to ride the New York subway system I would also violate the probationary conditions of supervised release.

Those conditions also restrict my First Amendment rights to the extent it prohibits me from acting as an advisor to anyone who is engaged in computer-related activity.  My recent Senate talk could be violative, as could a talk to a car mechanic.  The conditions are so vague and overly broad that I don't know what I need to do or not do to stay out of jail.  It's up to a government official to decide whether or not I go back to jail, and it's not based on my intent - it's completely arbitrary.

The Senate

Several weeks ago I was invited to speak to the U.S. Senate.  I was taken aback, as well as honored, by the suddenness of their request and that they would be interested in my opinion.  I felt good about educating bureaucrats to look at the big picture - especially in how easy it is to compromise personnel without touching a computer.  The hearing seemed extremely successful, and I felt respected.  This is a very different feeling when compared to jail.  I felt a sense of pride when (((Senator Lieberman))) complimented me on suggesting I would make a good lawyer.  (At least, I hope it was a compliment!)  I felt effective at communicating my views to the Senate.  I felt that they learned something and that it made them think about something that is often ignored: the weakest links in infosec are the people.

Compare those feelings to the way I was treated like shit and like I was the scum of the Earth while in federal prison.  Guards patted me down at any time.  I was bound and shackled to move 25 feet (to an MRI device on a truck parked at the curb outside the prison) just 48 hours before my release.  The disrespect by the majority of federal prison staff members is shocking.  I was strip searched after each visit from friends and family.  During these visits, I had time to request to use the bathroom on the half-hour, only to have my request refused on a guard's whim.  I was treated like a bank robber, drug dealer, or murderer.  And six weeks later I was in a blue pinstripe suit in front of the U.S. Senate.

New York

A television network CourtTV called after my Senate testimony to request my appearance, for the second time, on the Crier Today show, which is hosted by former judge Catherine Crier.  It's an interesting show and I've enjoyed both my appearances.  Ironically, their request brought me to New York City on the first Friday of March 2000, the day that 2600 meetings were held worldwide.

Emmanuel was at the Crier Today filming, and we spent some time sight-seeing before we went to the lobby of the Citicorp building.  It was my first time in New York, my first 2600 meeting, and it was the best time I've had since I was released from jail.  I greatly enjoyed meeting many of the supporters in person, but I felt surprise when the first person asked me for my autograph.  Despite my surprise, several others wanted autographs so I spent the end of the meeting talking with people and signing the things they gave me.

The warm support and friendship I felt during and after the meeting was wonderful, and in distinct contrast to how I've felt most of my life, somewhat of an outsider with [ahem] "unusual interests"  At the meeting, I noticed a young boy, perhaps 10-years-old, with a Harris "butt end" clipped to his belt, and I was reminded of myself as a child, when my fascination with telephone systems began.  What fun it must be to be so young, and to know that there are people all around the world who share your passion.

The 2600 meeting was just the beginning of three days and two nights in New York, and I had a great time.  It was a bit overwhelming to sit in a packed Ben's Famous Pizza down on Spring Street after spending five years in prison, but their Sicilian made everything seem just right.

Without the support of 2600 and you all, my case would likely have ended up differently.  The support of each and every one of you positively influenced media treatment of my case, which gave me the energy to fight the charges against me, which in turn influenced the government's treatment of me - see the freekevin.com web site for more details about this.  I greatly appreciate the support of each person in my fight against injustice.

Last, and definitely not least, Emmanuel hasn't given up - he has dedicated time and resources and has organized extraordinary events to focus the spotlight on injustices in my case involving the federal government and the media.  His support has been crucial, and without it, things wouldn't have ended up as positively as they have.  Emmanuel took up my case more than five years ago, and has used his radio show and space in 2600 to publicize the government's dramatic manipulation of my case for the self-interest of a pair of misguided, egotistical prosecutors.

I owe him - and all of you - a great deal.  I am very, very lucky to have had friends like you.