On December 29, 2024, Jerry Cooper was assaulted by Correctional Officer (CO) B. Urbanavage at FCI Allenwood. Despite being the victim, Cooper is unjustly facing assault charges after CO Urbanavage filed an incident report against him, completely switching and fabricating the narrative. This case is a disgusting display of officers’ abusive behavior, power trips, and violent racial discrimination.
The incident occurred in the “shakedown metal shack,” where pat-down and visual searches occur. Cooper followed the procedure of facing away from the COs, with his hands in the air, having his legs spread. Then, CO Urbanavage pulled Cooper’s pants down without consent or warning, causing Cooper to instinctively pull them up. After ordering him to keep his hands up, Cooper complied with the CO, demonstrating absolutely no resistance. Nevertheless, CO Urbanavage continued to be aggressive, pinning Cooper’s hands behind his back. He then shoved Cooper outside the shack, causing Cooper to fall. He lost one of his shoes, requiring him to turn towards the officer. At this point, CO Urbanavage took advantage of the moment, pinned him to the ground, and exclaimed to the nearby COs that Cooper was resisting. In desperation to signal his non-resistance and compliance, Cooper cried out to the other COs that he was not even handcuffed. This was ignored, and horrifyingly, another CO started choking Cooper. After Cooper cried out that he could not breathe, the COs mockingly started calling him the names of Black victims of police brutality. This appalling and repulsive act of abuse did not stop there. A CO dumped a drink on Cooper, and another violently pulled some of his dreads out. This entire incident was unprompted and unjust, which is why it is critical that these officers do not get away with it. Cooper also noted that one of the COs smelled like alcohol, providing yet another reason why the COs should be held accountable. What kind of correctional institution allows their officers to drink on the job and racially target and assault prisoners?
“I have been in and out of jails for 14 years, and never have I ever experienced such violent disregard for human life, cruelty, and racism.”
After the assault, Cooper was restrained, put on a stretcher, and thrown into an unsanitary cell. He described his cuffed wrists as being so tight that he lost feeling in his left thumb and knuckles. His leg restraints were equally as tight, numbing the feeling in his toes on his left foot. How does this make any sense— the less the person resists, the tighter their cuffs are?
Notably, this entire incident occurred on camera. This demonstrates that even when there is concrete evidence of Cooper’s innocence, he is wrongfully penalized. Cooper is currently in the Special Housing Units (SHU) at USP Allenwood. He received a disciplinary ticket that claims he assaulted the CO, which, as seen by the evidence in this campaign, is entirely false and absurd. Cooper was the real victim here, not the vile, drunken COs on a power trip. Cooper should not be facing charges for actions committed against him.
In response to Cooper’s assault, The Remedy Project has opened a remedy, filed a tort claim, and prepared a statement of defense for Cooper to deliver to the Discipline Hearing Officer (DHO). The Remedy Project demands that Cooper receive the justice he deserves. We call on USP Allenwood and the Department of Justice to properly investigate this incident and all incidents of violence enacted on the incarcerated.
Officers’ violence towards incarcerated people is a common occurrence in prisons, resulting from their gross belief that they are above the law. Racial violence is even more common, representing the wider issue of systemic racism towards Black and Brown people in the U.S. justice system. If we continue to let officers like CO Urbanavage face no consequences for their vile actions, we are complicit in normalizing this kind of violence and officers’ impunity. This pattern of abuse must end, not only in our correctional facilities but in police interactions as well. The violence we witness in prisons mirrors the brutality seen in policing. Both acts of violence are rooted in our system that legalizes this excessive power with minimal accountability. To address this systemic issue, we must reexamine these institutional values and reform how officers are trained and monitored when in charge of vulnerable and marginalized communities.
--- Update --
Since Jerry Cooper’s assault in December and his subsequent unjust assault charges, he has faced even more horrible brutality from the COs and staff at FCI Allenwood. After his DHO hearing on March 26, Cooper disputed the incident with CO Lung, who did not care to listen to the truth. Instead, CO Lung placed a target on Cooper’s back, encouraging the other COs to abuse Cooper by threatening, starving, and assaulting him. Over the course of around a week, Cooper was violently assaulted seven times by various COs.
“I said a prayer in my head thinking I was going to die.”
When Cooper returned to his cell after the hearing, his ruthless and unjust punishment began. CO Hams and Amos gave him and his bunkmate empty food trays. When dinner time came, CO Weaver also left the two prisoners without food. Punishing yet another innocent individual reveals how these COs entirely disregard human rights, being led by their hunger for cruel domination. When Cooper tried to explain the situation to L.T. Jamerson, she dismissed him.
The next morning, Cooper and his bunkmate were deprived of their meal again by CO Harris and Crenatyzel. As if starvation were not nasty enough, CO Usehr left their shower, toilet, and sink running for an hour and flooded their cell. There was no incident report filed, demonstrating how easily these officers get away with torture. Enraged, Cooper closed their cell window slot. After one of the staff members, Dugget, ordered him to unblock the window, he proceeded to use pepper spray for seven seconds on them. After this incident, Cooper was separated from his bunkmate. While he was escorted to a recreation cage, an unidentified CO unpromptedly yanked one of Cooper’s dreads out of his head. His abuse did not stop there. Cooper was placed in a cold rec pen, and another unknown CO turned on a fan at its highest speed. The Warden visited him there and, like L.T. Jamerson, dismissed his pleas for help entirely, telling him not to catch any more tickets. Cooper sat there, freezing, for another hour. He was then beaten by three COs: Usehr, Crenatyzel, and one unidentified. They slammed him to the ground, kicked him, and pulled more of his dreads out. Yet again, the COs’ assault on him ended in an incident report that claimed Cooper was the instigator and assaulter. This pattern of abuse is horrific. Cooper has been entirely compliant, yet he continues to be dehumanized and painted as violent to the system.
After that incident, he was transferred to a new cell, with his cuffs so tight he had deep lacerations on his wrists. A part of this institution’s policy for restrained prisoners is a restraint check every two hours, four times a day. During his first check, Cooper was unpromptly assaulted again by CO Usehr and Lung. CO Usehr told him that he was “lucky his hair isn’t rape or [he’d] hang him himself.”
During his third restraint check, Cooper was finally given dinner; however, it was only two slices of bread with phlegm on them and a slice of cheese. After being starved for four meals, how is that just? Two hours later, he complained about his tight cuffs to a nurse, who vilely told him to “man up.” Since he passed all of his checks, he thought he was safe from the violence. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Three unknown COs came to assault him, punching, kicking, and pulling his dreads again. He was left in this cell, and at 2 AM, his restraints were finally loosened by L.T. Gullet, but the damage was already so deep. His wrists were swollen with tears and cuts in his skin. Cooper tried to ask L.T. Gullet for help, exclaiming, “They’re going to beat me until I die, I can’t take anymore.” Gullet simply told him he would be okay and that his restraints would be taken off next shift, choosing to turn a blind eye to the continuous and discriminatory violence enacted on Cooper.
The next day, during his first restraint check, L.T. Simon and CO White assaulted him, marking his fifth time being beaten in 24 hours. CO White cut off Cooper’s air circulation with a riot shield as L.T. Simon tightened his cuffs, claiming that he was “tampering with federal property.” Cooper tried to explain that L.T. Gullet had loosened them, and he exclaimed that he couldn’t breathe. Maliciously, CO White laughed in his face and said, “Oh yeah, so couldn’t George Floyd.” This is the second time that COs have weaponized the previous Black victims of police brutality while attacking Cooper. The first incident alone shows this systemic issue of racism in our so-called “justice” system.
During Cooper’s second restraint check, CO Lung and two unidentified officers pulled out more of his dreads. Cooper remarks that, “at this point, [he] felt [he] couldn’t take it anymore. When they left, [he] still had not had breakfast, and started to cry.” The only meal he got this day was a mushed banana with phlegm on it and a bag of chips. Additionally, CO Urbanavage, the original assailant in Cooper’s case, visited his cell and threatened him, saying he was “going to have [his] way with [him] next.”
After Cooper spoke with the warden, showing proof of his abuse and saying he was scared for his life, she issued a memo to have all his restraint checks recorded from that point on. The corruption of justice here is egregious. Of course, Cooper would not be attacked on video, but he was still punished. He had already been unable to use the restroom for 24 hours, and was denied for another ten. On top of this, the nurses on duty agreed with the COs, stating that his cuffs were not too tight, despite his lacerations. After 36 hours, L.T. Gullet loosened his restraints and called on the medical staff to cut off his jumpsuit and allow him to use the bathroom, finally. Around 2 in the morning, Cooper complained about his severe chest pains and got medical to hook him up to an EKG machine. Two hours later, L.T. Gullet took off the restraints, revealing a gaping hole in his left wrist. When Cooper asked to show the camera proof of his abuse, L.T. Gullet dismissed him and said he should be evaluated during the next shift.
The following day, he was left without breakfast and received multiple false incident reports that tarnished his prison security level. He finally received a hot meal for lunch and dinner. Although he was not attacked that day, he was unable to get any sleep as a CO knocked on his door every 30 minutes, taunting him. Clearly, the COs are hellbent on ensuring Cooper is constantly suffering and in pain, leaving him no time to rest and rejuvenate.
“I lived the whole day in pain. My hands felt as if they were pricked with thousands of needles.”
On March 30, the next day, CO White gave Cooper an empty tray again. When Cooper tried to show this on camera, CO White snatched the tray out of his hand and claimed he refused to eat. This pattern continued with CO Harris, who blocked the camera view. At dinnertime, CO Wertz delivered the food tray but did not open the box mechanism that allowed Cooper to take the tray. When Cooper pointed this out, CO Wertz opened the box, but then violently slammed Cooper’s fingers and wrists repeatedly in it. Later, CO White and Harris came to collect the trays. While White covered the camera, Harris grossly told Cooper, “that’s what happens to Black pieces of shit who try to file paper on the goon squad.”
Over the next few days, Cooper was denied hygiene products and a quilt for the cold cell. Fortunately, he was given food trays. However, the following Wednesday, CO Crenatyzel threatened him about speaking to the warden, S.I.S. or writing copruts about their abuse. That Friday, Cooper spoke to the S.I.S., and she said she would investigate. This investigation was conducted poorly, however, because the proper evidence of Cooper’s bald spots was not documented. Cooper believes they only focused on the hand-slamming incident since CO Wertz was fired.
On April 30, Cooper finally got an X-ray for his hands, which showed soft tissue swelling on his fingers. He said the swelling persisted a month later. On May 16, he was transferred from the medium-security prison, FCI Allenwood, to the high-security prison, to USP Allenwood.
Clearly, FCI Allenwood has failed Cooper, serving the interests of its corrupt COs, lieutenants, and warden. Cooper had submitted a BP.9, which got denied. His letters to The Remedy Project and the press have been blocked. When he told Warden G. Swarner about wanting to press charges, he laughed in Cooper’s face. As a result, Cooper has requested that The Remedy Project assist with pressing charges, suing the named assailants, and filing a civil lawsuit against FCI Allenwood. We cannot continue to let these patterns of violent racial discrimination continue in our correctional facilities, let alone in our society. As stated in our first piece on Cooper’s case, the violence we witness in prisons mirrors the brutality seen in policing. Both acts of violence are rooted in our system that legalizes this excessive power with minimal accountability. To address this systemic issue, we must reexamine these institutional values and reform how officers are trained and monitored when in charge of vulnerable and marginalized communities.
On December 29, 2024, Jerry Cooper was assaulted by Correctional Officer (CO) B. Urbanavage at FCI Allenwood. Despite being the victim, Cooper is unjustly facing assault charges after CO Urbanavage filed an incident report against him, completely switching and fabricating the narrative. This case is a disgusting display of officers’ abusive behavior, power trips, and violent racial discrimination.
The incident occurred in the “shakedown metal shack,” where pat-down and visual searches occur. Cooper followed the procedure of facing away from the COs, with his hands in the air, having his legs spread. Then, CO Urbanavage pulled Cooper’s pants down without consent or warning, causing Cooper to instinctively pull them up. After ordering him to keep his hands up, Cooper complied with the CO, demonstrating absolutely no resistance. Nevertheless, CO Urbanavage continued to be aggressive, pinning Cooper’s hands behind his back. He then shoved Cooper outside the shack, causing Cooper to fall. He lost one of his shoes, requiring him to turn towards the officer. At this point, CO Urbanavage took advantage of the moment, pinned him to the ground, and exclaimed to the nearby COs that Cooper was resisting. In desperation to signal his non-resistance and compliance, Cooper cried out to the other COs that he was not even handcuffed. This was ignored, and horrifyingly, another CO started choking Cooper. After Cooper cried out that he could not breathe, the COs mockingly started calling him the names of Black victims of police brutality. This appalling and repulsive act of abuse did not stop there. A CO dumped a drink on Cooper, and another violently pulled some of his dreads out. This entire incident was unprompted and unjust, which is why it is critical that these officers do not get away with it. Cooper also noted that one of the COs smelled like alcohol, providing yet another reason why the COs should be held accountable. What kind of correctional institution allows their officers to drink on the job and racially target and assault prisoners?
“I have been in and out of jails for 14 years, and never have I ever experienced such violent disregard for human life, cruelty, and racism.”
After the assault, Cooper was restrained, put on a stretcher, and thrown into an unsanitary cell. He described his cuffed wrists as being so tight that he lost feeling in his left thumb and knuckles. His leg restraints were equally as tight, numbing the feeling in his toes on his left foot. How does this make any sense— the less the person resists, the tighter their cuffs are?
Notably, this entire incident occurred on camera. This demonstrates that even when there is concrete evidence of Cooper’s innocence, he is wrongfully penalized. Cooper is currently in the Special Housing Units (SHU) at USP Allenwood. He received a disciplinary ticket that claims he assaulted the CO, which, as seen by the evidence in this campaign, is entirely false and absurd. Cooper was the real victim here, not the vile, drunken COs on a power trip. Cooper should not be facing charges for actions committed against him.
In response to Cooper’s assault, The Remedy Project has opened a remedy, filed a tort claim, and prepared a statement of defense for Cooper to deliver to the Discipline Hearing Officer (DHO). The Remedy Project demands that Cooper receive the justice he deserves. We call on USP Allenwood and the Department of Justice to properly investigate this incident and all incidents of violence enacted on the incarcerated.
Officers’ violence towards incarcerated people is a common occurrence in prisons, resulting from their gross belief that they are above the law. Racial violence is even more common, representing the wider issue of systemic racism towards Black and Brown people in the U.S. justice system. If we continue to let officers like CO Urbanavage face no consequences for their vile actions, we are complicit in normalizing this kind of violence and officers’ impunity. This pattern of abuse must end, not only in our correctional facilities but in police interactions as well. The violence we witness in prisons mirrors the brutality seen in policing. Both acts of violence are rooted in our system that legalizes this excessive power with minimal accountability. To address this systemic issue, we must reexamine these institutional values and reform how officers are trained and monitored when in charge of vulnerable and marginalized communities.
--- Update --
Since Jerry Cooper’s assault in December and his subsequent unjust assault charges, he has faced even more horrible brutality from the COs and staff at FCI Allenwood. After his DHO hearing on March 26, Cooper disputed the incident with CO Lung, who did not care to listen to the truth. Instead, CO Lung placed a target on Cooper’s back, encouraging the other COs to abuse Cooper by threatening, starving, and assaulting him. Over the course of around a week, Cooper was violently assaulted seven times by various COs.
“I said a prayer in my head thinking I was going to die.”
When Cooper returned to his cell after the hearing, his ruthless and unjust punishment began. CO Hams and Amos gave him and his bunkmate empty food trays. When dinner time came, CO Weaver also left the two prisoners without food. Punishing yet another innocent individual reveals how these COs entirely disregard human rights, being led by their hunger for cruel domination. When Cooper tried to explain the situation to L.T. Jamerson, she dismissed him.
The next morning, Cooper and his bunkmate were deprived of their meal again by CO Harris and Crenatyzel. As if starvation were not nasty enough, CO Usehr left their shower, toilet, and sink running for an hour and flooded their cell. There was no incident report filed, demonstrating how easily these officers get away with torture. Enraged, Cooper closed their cell window slot. After one of the staff members, Dugget, ordered him to unblock the window, he proceeded to use pepper spray for seven seconds on them. After this incident, Cooper was separated from his bunkmate. While he was escorted to a recreation cage, an unidentified CO unpromptedly yanked one of Cooper’s dreads out of his head. His abuse did not stop there. Cooper was placed in a cold rec pen, and another unknown CO turned on a fan at its highest speed. The Warden visited him there and, like L.T. Jamerson, dismissed his pleas for help entirely, telling him not to catch any more tickets. Cooper sat there, freezing, for another hour. He was then beaten by three COs: Usehr, Crenatyzel, and one unidentified. They slammed him to the ground, kicked him, and pulled more of his dreads out. Yet again, the COs’ assault on him ended in an incident report that claimed Cooper was the instigator and assaulter. This pattern of abuse is horrific. Cooper has been entirely compliant, yet he continues to be dehumanized and painted as violent to the system.
After that incident, he was transferred to a new cell, with his cuffs so tight he had deep lacerations on his wrists. A part of this institution’s policy for restrained prisoners is a restraint check every two hours, four times a day. During his first check, Cooper was unpromptly assaulted again by CO Usehr and Lung. CO Usehr told him that he was “lucky his hair isn’t rape or [he’d] hang him himself.”
During his third restraint check, Cooper was finally given dinner; however, it was only two slices of bread with phlegm on them and a slice of cheese. After being starved for four meals, how is that just? Two hours later, he complained about his tight cuffs to a nurse, who vilely told him to “man up.” Since he passed all of his checks, he thought he was safe from the violence. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Three unknown COs came to assault him, punching, kicking, and pulling his dreads again. He was left in this cell, and at 2 AM, his restraints were finally loosened by L.T. Gullet, but the damage was already so deep. His wrists were swollen with tears and cuts in his skin. Cooper tried to ask L.T. Gullet for help, exclaiming, “They’re going to beat me until I die, I can’t take anymore.” Gullet simply told him he would be okay and that his restraints would be taken off next shift, choosing to turn a blind eye to the continuous and discriminatory violence enacted on Cooper.
The next day, during his first restraint check, L.T. Simon and CO White assaulted him, marking his fifth time being beaten in 24 hours. CO White cut off Cooper’s air circulation with a riot shield as L.T. Simon tightened his cuffs, claiming that he was “tampering with federal property.” Cooper tried to explain that L.T. Gullet had loosened them, and he exclaimed that he couldn’t breathe. Maliciously, CO White laughed in his face and said, “Oh yeah, so couldn’t George Floyd.” This is the second time that COs have weaponized the previous Black victims of police brutality while attacking Cooper. The first incident alone shows this systemic issue of racism in our so-called “justice” system.
During Cooper’s second restraint check, CO Lung and two unidentified officers pulled out more of his dreads. Cooper remarks that, “at this point, [he] felt [he] couldn’t take it anymore. When they left, [he] still had not had breakfast, and started to cry.” The only meal he got this day was a mushed banana with phlegm on it and a bag of chips. Additionally, CO Urbanavage, the original assailant in Cooper’s case, visited his cell and threatened him, saying he was “going to have [his] way with [him] next.”
After Cooper spoke with the warden, showing proof of his abuse and saying he was scared for his life, she issued a memo to have all his restraint checks recorded from that point on. The corruption of justice here is egregious. Of course, Cooper would not be attacked on video, but he was still punished. He had already been unable to use the restroom for 24 hours, and was denied for another ten. On top of this, the nurses on duty agreed with the COs, stating that his cuffs were not too tight, despite his lacerations. After 36 hours, L.T. Gullet loosened his restraints and called on the medical staff to cut off his jumpsuit and allow him to use the bathroom, finally. Around 2 in the morning, Cooper complained about his severe chest pains and got medical to hook him up to an EKG machine. Two hours later, L.T. Gullet took off the restraints, revealing a gaping hole in his left wrist. When Cooper asked to show the camera proof of his abuse, L.T. Gullet dismissed him and said he should be evaluated during the next shift.
The following day, he was left without breakfast and received multiple false incident reports that tarnished his prison security level. He finally received a hot meal for lunch and dinner. Although he was not attacked that day, he was unable to get any sleep as a CO knocked on his door every 30 minutes, taunting him. Clearly, the COs are hellbent on ensuring Cooper is constantly suffering and in pain, leaving him no time to rest and rejuvenate.
“I lived the whole day in pain. My hands felt as if they were pricked with thousands of needles.”
On March 30, the next day, CO White gave Cooper an empty tray again. When Cooper tried to show this on camera, CO White snatched the tray out of his hand and claimed he refused to eat. This pattern continued with CO Harris, who blocked the camera view. At dinnertime, CO Wertz delivered the food tray but did not open the box mechanism that allowed Cooper to take the tray. When Cooper pointed this out, CO Wertz opened the box, but then violently slammed Cooper’s fingers and wrists repeatedly in it. Later, CO White and Harris came to collect the trays. While White covered the camera, Harris grossly told Cooper, “that’s what happens to Black pieces of shit who try to file paper on the goon squad.”
Over the next few days, Cooper was denied hygiene products and a quilt for the cold cell. Fortunately, he was given food trays. However, the following Wednesday, CO Crenatyzel threatened him about speaking to the warden, S.I.S. or writing copruts about their abuse. That Friday, Cooper spoke to the S.I.S., and she said she would investigate. This investigation was conducted poorly, however, because the proper evidence of Cooper’s bald spots was not documented. Cooper believes they only focused on the hand-slamming incident since CO Wertz was fired.
On April 30, Cooper finally got an X-ray for his hands, which showed soft tissue swelling on his fingers. He said the swelling persisted a month later. On May 16, he was transferred from the medium-security prison, FCI Allenwood, to the high-security prison, to USP Allenwood.
Clearly, FCI Allenwood has failed Cooper, serving the interests of its corrupt COs, lieutenants, and warden. Cooper had submitted a BP.9, which got denied. His letters to The Remedy Project and the press have been blocked. When he told Warden G. Swarner about wanting to press charges, he laughed in Cooper’s face. As a result, Cooper has requested that The Remedy Project assist with pressing charges, suing the named assailants, and filing a civil lawsuit against FCI Allenwood. We cannot continue to let these patterns of violent racial discrimination continue in our correctional facilities, let alone in our society. As stated in our first piece on Cooper’s case, the violence we witness in prisons mirrors the brutality seen in policing. Both acts of violence are rooted in our system that legalizes this excessive power with minimal accountability. To address this systemic issue, we must reexamine these institutional values and reform how officers are trained and monitored when in charge of vulnerable and marginalized communities.
