SAN QUENTIN, CALIF. — When he stands, Gerry Harris towers over everyone in the room. He’s bald, with a salt-and-pepper beard that climbs to his temples and big, almost square glasses. His presence is gentle, even when he’s agitated, which he is now. “Three minutes,” he tells the men in the room. “I can’t account for three minutes. I might never get them back.”
Read Full Article Off-SiteSan Quentin’s Self-Rehab: Healing on the Inside
