SAN QUENTIN, Calif. —
Just 12 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge sits San Quentin Rehabilitation Center. It's California's oldest prison, first built in 1852.
"We roughly have about 3,300 incarcerated right now” said San Quentin's public information officer, Lt. Berry.
San Quentin Rehabilitation Center, formerly known as San Quentin State Prison, was also where condemned inmates sat on death row until this year. In summer 2024, all condemned inmates were transferred to other facilities throughout the state.
For decades San Quentin has offered programs to help inmates rehabilitate and integrate back into society. With 42 programs and 170 groups, San Quentin has more programs than any institution in the state of California.
"A lot of the programs that we have here, like computer coding, they have very little to no recidivism,” said Berry.
Currently 40% of inmates participate in these programs, which are aimed at personal development, education and vocational training.
On the day ABC10 visited San Quentin there was an inmate versus correctional staff kickball game and a live band playing music on the yard.
Fred Catano, an inmate at the facility, says seeing a kickball game and hearing music on the yard, “makes the environment and the community here more at peace.”
Catano has been in prison for more than 50 years. He admits it’s a badge he isn’t proud to wear.
"As we do time in here, we come to realize that we did something wrong. It's not like we love what we did. You know, it was just that we didn't have the tools to learn life's valuable lessons out there," he said.
He's participated in programs at the facility and now teaches others.
"I try to give back in what ways my experiences, my knowledge, my tools that I have, my skills that I've learned and picked up in here. I try to pass them on to other young men. This way they don't stay in here as long as I did," said Catano.
He says the programs at San Quentin open doors for a lot of inmates to rehabilitate — all they have to do is take the opportunity.
Catano will go before the parole board this November, hoping to be released. He isn’t the only one who may be on the other side of the fence.
"Statistic wise, a lot of these guys — 90% of these dudes — are coming home. They're getting out,” Berry said.
ABC10 asked Berry what she says to those who feel prison should be punishment, not programs. She explained she would never try and change anyone's views or disregard victims.
“...But at the same time, I want to believe that redemption is real," said Berry. “If you know that they're getting out, I certainly would want them to have the tools that they need so that they understand that victimization is not okay, right?”
ABC10 also met Lloyd Townsend, an inmate at San Quentin, and his 10-month-old black lab Templeton by the basketball courts.
"I fell in love with dog training because I looked at it like there was a way for me to get back to various communities, but I also feel like I had a lot in common with dogs, because not only was I training them, I was also rehabilitating them while I worked on my own rehabilitation,” said Townsend.
Townsend has been in prison for 17 years. He feels like prison saved his life. He says without programs like dog training he would feel lonely and less productive.
"It's crazy, but I really feel like being removed (from) society and being able to come here and rehabilitate myself saved me. I could have been in the grave or anything like that. So, I think (it's) just a blessing me just coming here, to have an opportunity with these programs to help me up on my rehabilitation.”
ABC10 also met correctional staff who say the San Quentin of today is vastly different than when they first started their careers.
“I've never been to another prison, but I feel like San Quentin is like no other place,” said Officer Williams, a six-year veteran of the prison.
“It was every day. There was fights, people stabbing each other. It was ... messy," said Officer Faghirzadeh, a 17-year staff member.
He says those days are over now and San Quentin has changed. Faghirzadeh shared how programs inside the prison help inmates become successful outside too.
“They have people that come in and talk to the inmates about going into the unions in their fields when they get out, so they already have connections when they get out," said Faghirzadeh.
The correctional officers ABC10 spoke with during our visit told us change can be challenging and getting staff to buy in to new rehabilitation efforts isn't something that happens overnight.
"We see them more than we see our family. Some of us do 16-hour shifts. So, I feel like, yeah, they might be a little upset, and think that it's supposed to be, oh, you know, get on them. But it's still a line,” said Williams.
Under Warden Chance Andes' leadership, there’s a simple focus.
"We can still have a security mindset but still treat people like people, which actually reduces the violence inside our institutions and protects our staff, and again, true public safety prevents people getting out and continuing to do crime," said Andes.
Andes explained at San Quentin there’s a programming population that truly wants to rehabilitate.
"When people have degrees and skillsets to get back out they have somewhere to get jobs and to be a contributing member of society," he said.
Games like kickball aren’t about winning or losing, it’s the lessons you take away.
“Learning teamwork, sportsmanship during these events. We don't have incidents. We don't have anything violent going on," he said.
San Quentin's programs, seen as keys to freedom, have a lot on the line to reduce recidivism and rehabilitate. Staff ABC10 spoke with say the proof of the program's effectiveness is already right in front of us.
Henok Rufael, an inmate at San Quentin, sees the way programs challenge people.
"If we categorize and box people in, we’ll only grow as big as those boxes," he said.
Throughout his sentence he’s joined various groups, became certificated for drug and alcohol counseling and learned how to play the violin.
Rufael will be going in front of the parole board this November. He isn’t scared of reoffending because he has a better understanding of himself, received therapy and has a support system that holds him accountable.
He believes everyone is capable of change and, “everybody has a redemption story.”
WATCH MORE ON ABC10: Death row inmate moved to facility where his victim's grandson is also serving time
