The untold story of Samuel Hayes Jr. and the systemic failures that led to his tragic death in custody.

Image by the family of Samuel Hayes, Jr.
On a Saturday night inside the St. Louis City Justice Center (CJC), 31-year-oldSamuel Hayes Jr. lost his life. After a reported altercation with another inmate around 8:20 p.m., Hayes was placed in a restraint chair for allegedly refusing to follow verbal commands. Less than two hours later, at approximately 10 p.m., he was found unresponsive. He was rushed to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead.
To some, it was just another headline—“Inmate Dies After Restraint at City Jail”—but to those who knew Samuel, it was the painful ending of a life that was still in progress, still trying to find its path.
Samuel’s mother, Anita Washington, said she was not informed by the state of her son’s death. “I found out from my daughter at 3 a.m.—not from the state, not from any official. They still haven’t contacted me,” she said. Anita believes there’s more to the story, stating plainly, “They killed my son.”
Her statement echoes a concern that reverberates throughout communities impacted by incarceration: the dehumanization of the incarcerated, especially Black men, in both life and death. Often, when the public sees these headlines, many jump to conclusions, assuming the person must’ve deserved their fate, as if a record or past mistakes warrant a death sentence.
But Samuel Hayes Jr. was more than a charge or a file number. “He had a good heart,” said Talibdin El-Amin, publisher of The St. Louis Argus Newspaper. “To some, he may be just another brother lost to the streets… but he was searching for guidance. There are still many Sams out there, who that maybe the next Malcolm X or great leader that needs us.”
Alderman Rasheen Aldridge, who has long been outspoken about conditions at the jail, raised critical questions:
“Here we go again. Another death at the CJC. Were the guards watching? Where was he restrained? How tight were the restraints that an hour and a half later, he’s unresponsive and then dead at the hospital?”
Since 2020,20 people have died in the St. Louis City Justice Center, raising ongoing alarms about safety, policy, and neglect.
Social media erupted with testimonies from people who’ve lived the reality behind those walls. Justin Daniels, a former detainee at the CJC, wrote:
“They leave you sitting in a holding cell for three days with 14–15 other people. You have to sleep on a bench or a dirty floor where people have defecated, urinated, or vomited. No cleaning supplies. They rarely check on anyone except at feeding time. The Justice Center in the city is horrible.”
These accounts paint a disturbing picture of neglect and systemic failure.
Mayor Cara Spencer released a statement committing to transparency and reform:
“While the facts are being gathered, my office is committed to ensuring accountability and a full review of the circumstances. Reforming the jail is one of my top priorities.”
The SLMPD’s Force Investigations Unit has taken over the case, which includes all in-custody deaths and use-of-force incidents. A full report will follow, with promises of transparency and accountability.
But accountability often comes too late. Samuel Hayes Jr. is no longer here to tell his side of the story. What remains is a grieving mother, unanswered questions, and a community still pleading for change.
Let this not be another name we scroll past, another face erased by a mugshot, another soul judged by a headline. Everyone has a story behind their struggle—and even those who’ve made mistakes deserve dignity, justice, and a chance to live.
Samuel Hayes Jr. was somebody’s son, somebody’s father, somebody’s friend. He was human. And he mattered.
#JusticeForSamuel, #JailReform, #HumanRights