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ROGERS STATE PRISON

State Prison Medium Security GDC (Georgia Dept. of Corrections) Male
13 Source Articles 8 Events

Facility Information

Original Design Capacity
448 (at 267% capacity)
Bed Capacity
1,391 beds
Current Population
1,197
Active Lifers
18 (1.5% of population) · Oct 2026 GDC report
Why design capacity matters: Adding beds to a prison does not increase medical facilities, educational programs, kitchen capacity, counseling services, or recreation areas. In Brown v. Plata (2011), the U.S. Supreme Court upheld an order capping California's prisons at 137.5% of design capacity, after federal courts found that crowding was the primary cause of unconstitutional medical and mental-health care.
What the courts held in Brown v. Plata, and how Georgia compares →
Address
1978 GA Hwy 147, Reidsville, GA 30453
Phone
(912) 557-7771
Fax
(912) 557-7163
County
Tattnall County
Opened
1983
Operator
GDC (Georgia Dept. of Corrections)

Security Classification

Last updated: September 23, 2026

0 of the 1,193 people held here are classified Close security (0.0%), as of September 23, 2026.

Security levelPeopleShare
Medium75263.0%
Minimum44137.0%
Total1,193

Earlier count (undated table, produced October 22, 2025): 1 of 1,437 Close (0.1%).

Source: Georgia Department of Corrections records produced to GPS under the Open Records Act (R031471-090226, R024615-101925). A person's security level is GDC's classification of that person, which can differ from the prison's own designation.

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Leadership & Accountability (as of 2026 records)

Officials currently holding positional authority at this facility, with deaths attributed to GPS-tracked records during their leadership tenure. Inclusion reflects role-based accountability, not legal findings of personal culpability. Death counts shown as facility / career.

RoleNameSinceDeaths
this facility / career
Warden (facility lead) Clark, LEE C2018-01-01— / —
Deputy Warden of Security (facility deputy) Goettie, Michael L2021-01-0113 / 13
Deputy Warden of Security (facility deputy) Byrd, Yolanda2019-01-0113 / 13
Deputy Warden of Care and Treatment (facility deputy) Kelley, Tina2024-09-165 / 5
Deputy Warden of Security (facility deputy) Montgomery, Marjorie L2026-09-16— / —
Deputy Warden of Administration (facility deputy) Forrest, Vicki2026-07-16— / —

About

Last updated October 18, 2026.(DS)

Rogers State Prison sits on farmland near Reidsville in Tattnall County, a medium-security men's facility that opened in 1983 with a design capacity of 448 and now carries a rated capacity of 1,391. Its mission is agricultural: a large farm, dairy, canning plant, and meat production operation that supplies food to other Georgia prisons, worked largely by incarcerated men. Housing runs to dormitories and cellblocks plus segregation units. GPS's records show a population of 1,197 — about 86 percent of rated capacity — and a leadership roster that has turned over substantially in the past year. What follows traces the threads GPS has documented at this facility: a contested in-custody death that has become the most closely examined case in GPS's files, a mortality record of 14 deaths since 2020, a food-service inspection history that reads clean on paper and poorly in practice, and a staffing picture that GPS's systemic reporting places inside a systemwide collapse.

The Death of Taylor Anthony Hunt and the Suicide Ruling His Family Rejects

Taylor Anthony Hunt died at Rogers State Prison on September 28, 2024, at age 29. GPS's mortality registry lists the cause as suicide. GDC officially ruled the death a suicide by hanging in the shower, and two autopsies were performed — one by the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, one by an independent examiner — both of which, per GDC's stated position, ruled the cause suicide.

Hunt's mother, Heather Hunt Fountain, has publicly rejected that account. In a Facebook post on August 10, 2026, she wrote that on September 27, 2024, "we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren't told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: 'A hanging.' Not 'suicide.' Not 'suicide by hanging.' 'A hanging.'" She described her son as 29 years old, "a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran."

GPS's own case file contains material that conflicts with the official finding. Autopsy photos in GPS's possession, provided by Hunt's family through a Department of Justice channel, show ligature marks consistent with strangulation, and GPS's review of those photos is consistent with strangulation rather than suicide by hanging — a conclusion GPS holds at moderate confidence and which remains disputed. The autopsy report itself has been withheld: the GBI denied the family's requests for it on two separate occasions, citing an open investigation.

The documentary record around the death raises further questions. GPS holds copies of notes that GDC staff presented as suicide letters from Hunt to his children; the notes misspell the names of Hunt's own children, and handwriting comparison against Hunt's confirmed writing samples places their authenticity in serious question. Hunt's body was held for five days before transfer from the facility to authorities, per documentation in the family's possession comparing the death certificate to transfer paperwork. Following the death, GDC staff took custody of Hunt's personal property — standard GDC procedure when an incarcerated person dies. Hunt's family, with GPS support drafting formal letters, has requested a GBI homicide investigation, a coroner's inquest in Tattnall County, and other independent review; those requests have been denied or remain unanswered.

Fourteen Deaths Since 2020

GPS's mortality registry records 14 deaths at Rogers State Prison since January 1, 2020 — a figure GPS treats as a floor, since GDC reports deaths roughly two months late. The causes break down as five natural or medical, five suicides, three overdoses, and one still pending.

The named dead, in reverse order: John Meeks died February 19, 2026, at Rogers State Prison; GPS's registry lists the cause as Unknown/Pending, and he was 49. Randy Eugene Stewart died July 17, 2025, Natural/Medical, age 60. Justin Waymon Hollingsworth died June 26, 2025, Suicide, age 43. David Edward Wood died February 4, 2025, Natural/Medical. Taylor Anthony Hunt died September 28, 2024, Suicide, age 29. Shawn Remar Johnson died July 23, 2024, Natural/Medical, age 34. Randall Henry Baker died December 6, 2023, Natural/Medical, age 38. William Joseph Smiley died August 15, 2023, Overdose, age 41. Bradley Lyle Weitzel died March 21, 2023, Natural/Medical, age 40. Caleb Sexton died April 22, 2022, Overdose, age 21. Timothy Brent Jenkins died April 7, 2022, Overdose, age 22. Jeremy Lasean Walton died June 12, 2021, Suicide, age 31. Michael Glenn Mckee died May 22, 2021, Suicide, age 59. Chad Walker Jeter died March 17, 2021, Suicide, age 43.

The overdose cluster is notable: three men between 21 and 41 died of overdose across 2022 and 2023, two of them within fifteen days of each other in April 2022. Systemwide, GPS has independently tracked 1,918 deaths in GDC custody since 2020.

Food Service: Clean Scores, Contested Conditions

The Georgia Department of Public Health has inspected Rogers State Prison's food operation six times since August 2023, all routine inspections conducted by inspector Lance Dasher. The scores: 94 in August 2023, 92 in March 2024, 82 in October 2024, 91 in April 2025, 92 in November 2025, and 85 in July 2026. Four of the six earned a Grade A; the two Grade B scores, in October 2024 and July 2026, both cited improper hot holding temperatures among their violations.

GPS has documented a systemic pattern in which DPH scores fail to capture the actual condition of GDC kitchens — broken tray-sanitizing dishwashers, sustained roach and rodent infestation, and meals served on contaminated trays — because inspections are scheduled walkthroughs that do not assess equipment under load. The Marshall Project's May 16, 2026 investigation of Georgia prison food independently reported rats in kitchens, insects in food, and moldy trays across state facilities. GPS treats the contradiction between high inspection scores and sustained witness accounts as the analytical center of its investigation into prison food service.

The economics behind that pattern are stark. GDC spends approximately $1.69 per person per day on food, with $1.60 per day proposed for FY27 — under 60 cents per meal — against the FDA Thrifty Food Plan estimate of roughly $10 per day for an adult man's nutritionally adequate diet. The state spends roughly 14 times more on medical care for incarcerated people ($432 million) than on their food. At Rogers, the agricultural mission that supplies other prisons' food runs alongside a kitchen that DPH has twice scored at Grade B in the past two years.

Staffing Collapse, Contraband, and the Agricultural Detail

GPS has documented officer vacancy rates in Georgia's prisons running between 49.3 and 60 percent systemwide for multiple years, against a national standard of no more than 10 percent. The October 2024 DOJ findings letter concluded that "the leadership of the Georgia Department of Corrections has lost control of its facilities" and faulted GDC for placing "too much blame on gangs and insufficient emphasis on understaffing." Georgia ranks last of 50 states for correctional-officer pay, and 82.7 percent of new hires leave in their first year. GPS records show staffing-shortage reports at Rogers across three months in 2026 at high and moderate severity.

The contraband record at Rogers reflects both the agricultural operation and the staffing gap. GDC's own published contraband reports show a contract Mental Health Counselor, Kalvin Roberts, arrested by the Tattnall County Sheriff's Department on March 17, 2026, after security staff recovered a Styrofoam tray from a closet containing two cellphones and two activation cards; GDC's report states Roberts entered the facility with the contraband and was charged with crossing the guard lines with prohibited items. In May 2025, a civilian, Tyiesha Wilson, was arrested after a search near the facility turned up 1,260 grams of tobacco, 51.8 grams of marijuana, and eggs packed with rolling paper and wraps. In January 2025, the GDC Canine Unit apprehended a civilian, Paul Kerwin Williams, near the facility with a cellphone, 882.5 grams of tobacco, two lighters, and a pocket knife. Across the full span of GDC's published reports, staff-class actors at Rogers include four officers and multiple food-service employees.

GPS records show six sources reporting staff-misconduct allegations at Rogers in the past year, and four naming specific staff at high and moderate severity in September 2026. GPS has received accounts of assault by other incarcerated people at the facility, and multiple sources have reported staffing shortages. GPS has also received accounts of an officer stabbing at Rogers in 2026.

Settlements, Leadership, and the Accountability Record

Two state liability payouts are tied to Rogers in the DOAS Risk Management settlement ledger obtained through open records: $17,500 to Angelo Lamar Roberson for a 2019 incident, and $75 to Carl Garrett for a 2017 incident.

The facility's leadership has churned. Lee C. Clark is warden, a post GPS records as held since 2018. Around him, the deputy ranks have turned over repeatedly in 2026: Marjorie L. Montgomery arrived as Deputy Warden of Security on September 16, 2026; Vicki Forrest as Deputy Warden of Administration and Yolanda Byrd and Michael L. Goettie as Deputy Wardens of Security all on July 16, 2026; Tina Kelley as Deputy Warden of Care and Treatment since September 2024. GPS records four due-process-violation signals at high and moderate severity concentrated in September 2026, alongside three grievance-obstruction signals and four family-safety-concern signals over the past year. Four external complaints were filed to oversight bodies in the past year, including to the Georgia Innocence Project and the U.S. Department of Justice.

Sources

This analysis draws on GPS's mortality registry and death records; Georgia Department of Public Health food-safety inspection reports for Rogers State Prison; GDC's published contraband arrest reports; the Georgia Department of Audits and Accounts Risk Management settlement ledger obtained through open records; GPS's personnel and leadership records; GPS's systemic findings on staffing, food service, and infrastructure across GDC facilities; a public Facebook statement by Heather Hunt Fountain dated August 10, 2026; autopsy photographs and correspondence held in GPS's case file on the death of Taylor Anthony Hunt; and The Marshall Project's May 16, 2026 investigation of Georgia prison food.

Mortality Statistics

14 deaths documented at this facility from 2020 to present.

Deaths by Year

  • 2026: 1
  • 2025: 3
  • 2024: 2
  • 2023: 3
  • 2022: 2
  • 2021: 3
  • 2020: 0

View all deaths at this facility →

County Public Health Department

Food service and sanitation at ROGERS STATE PRISON fall under the jurisdiction of the Tattnall County Environmental Health Department. Incarcerated people cannot choose where they eat — public health inspectors carry an elevated responsibility to hold this kitchen to the same standards applied to any restaurant.

Contact

Title
EH Specialist
Name
Lance Dasher
Address
P.O. Box 353
Glennville, GA 30427
Phone
(855) 473-4374
Email
Lance.Dasher@dph.ga.gov
Website
Visit department website →

Why this matters

GPS has documented black mold on chow-hall ceilings, cold and contaminated trays, spoiled milk, and pest contamination at Georgia prisons. The Department of Justice's 2024 report confirmed deaths from dehydration and untreated diabetes tied to food and water deprivation. Advance-notice inspections let facilities stage temporary fixes that disappear once inspectors leave.

Unannounced inspections by the county health department are one of the few outside checks on kitchen conditions behind the fence.

How you can help

Write to the county inspector and request an unannounced inspection of the kitchen and food service operation at this facility. A short, respectful letter citing Georgia food-safety regulations is more powerful than you think — inspectors respond to public concern.

Email the Inspector

Food Safety Inspections

Georgia Department of Public Health

Latest score: 85 (Jul 8, 2026)
View DPH report ↗

What the score doesn't measure. DPH grades kitchen compliance on inspection day — food storage, temperatures, pest control. It does not grade whether today's trays are clean. GPS reporting has found broken dishwashers at most Georgia state prisons we've documented; trays go out wet, stacked, and visibly moldy — including at facilities with recent scores near 100.

Who inspects. Most Georgia state prisons sit in rural counties — often with fewer than 20,000 people, several with fewer than 10,000. The environmental health inspector lives in that community and often knows the kitchen staff personally. Rural inspection regimes don't have the structural independence you'd expect in a city-sized health department. Read the scores accordingly.

Read the investigation: “Dunked, Stacked and Served: Why Georgia Prison Trays Are Making People Sick”

Recent inspections

DateScorePurpose
Jul 8, 202685Routine
Nov 19, 202592Routine
Apr 30, 202591Routine
Oct 31, 202482Routine
Mar 21, 202492Routine
Aug 23, 202394Routine

Recent reports (10)

Source-attributed observations and allegations from news coverage and reports submitted to GPS. Each entry credits its source.

  • ALLEGATION According to Facebook (public comment, Georgia prison family group) Recorded by GPS: Sep 1, 2026
    Civilian farm supervisor supplied vapes and computer access on the GCI dairy detail, then blamed the workers — collective loss of detail (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man says a civilian farm hand overseeing the dairy-milking detail at Rogers State Prison supplied vapes to the men working it and let them into the farm office to use a computer. When Georgia Correctional Industries staff discovered prisoners had been in the office, the poster says the same staffer told them the men had broken in. The poster says he was accused of stealing food and drink mixes, lost his work detail over the episode, and was refused any detail for the remainder of his sentence — while, he says, the actual thefts were later traced to a different shift.
    "when I worked as a dairy Milker (milking cows) there was a farm hand named [first name withheld by GPS] he'd get vapes for the inmates to hit while working and letting inmates into the office to get on the computer where I was wrongfully accused of stealing food,drink mixes... but when the GCI workers found out people were going into the office the farm hand blamed us all for breaking in when he'd let us in... which was found out later to be morning dairy milkers who stole food and etc but I lost my detail and was refused a detail for the rest of my time"
    Read source →
  • ALLEGATION According to Facebook (public comment, Georgia prison family group) Recorded by GPS: Sep 1, 2026
    Counselor known to prisoners as "Cowboy" arrested for bringing in drugs and phones (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man, posting publicly, says a counselor at Rogers State Prison whom prisoners called "Cowboy" — identifiable by his cowboy hat, boots and dress shirts — was arrested after staff learned he was bringing contraband drugs ("toochie") and cell phones into the facility. The account is undated; the poster describes a past period of incarceration at Rogers and does not state years.
    "there was a councilor the inmates called "cowboy" wore cowboy hat boots and nice button ups he was arrested after they found out he was bringing in toochie and phones"
    Read source →
  • ALLEGATION Received as Family or inmate communication Recorded by GPS: Jun 2, 2026
    Guard Stabbing Incident
    "Just a POI = now theyve been on "modified lockdown" still from the Blood / GF battles and the stabbing of the guards at Rogers. Haven't heard anything about scabies recently. On Tue, Jun 2, 2026 at 11:10 AM GPS Advocate Network <team@mail.gps.press> wrote:"
    Read source →
  • OBSERVATION According to Facebook, Heather Hunt Published: Aug 10, 2026
    Heather Hunt wrote on Facebook on August 10, 2026: "My name is Heather Hunt Fountain, and I am the mother of Taylor Anthony Hunt. Taylor was 29 years old. He was a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran. On September 27, 2024, we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren’t told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: “A hanging.” Not “suicide.” Not “suicide by hanging.” “A hanging.” I didn’t begin with a theory. I began with questions. And almost two years later, I am still asking them. Today is Prisoners’ Justice Day, and Taylor is not the only reason I am speaking out today. In 2024, 332 people died in Georgia’s state correctional facilities. Three hundred and thirty-two human beings. Since 2020, over 1,900 people have died in GDOC custody. And I deliberately say deaths—not homicides—because I don’t want this conversation to depend upon what label the government puts beside someone’s name. Every one of those numbers represents somebody’s child, parent, brother, sister or spouse. And while people were dying at extraordinary levels, GDC actually stopped including the initial manner of death in the monthly mortality reports it had previously published. At the same time, the U.S. Department of Justice concluded that Georgia was failing to protect incarcerated people from widespread violence and harm. I have watch some our Georgia political leaders this month on the campaign trail speaking so eloquently as they are demanding transparency from the federal government and other political entities. So I went to the Georgia State Capitol today, with one question: Why do our leaders demand transparency from Washington while families like mine have to fight their own state government for it? Transparency cannot be something you believe in only when you’re demanding it from somebody else. Transparency begins at home. Let me tell you what that fight has looked like for my family. When we went to Rogers looking for answers, we were told: There were no suicide notes. We were told there was video showing Taylor throwing away his belongings before he killed himself. Later, alleged suicide letters appeared. And our family says those letters are not in Taylor’s handwriting. So independently authenticate them. Tell us where they were found, when they were found, who found them and who handled them. And explain why we were originally told there were no suicide notes. Then came October 9. That […]"
    "My name is Heather Hunt Fountain, and I am the mother of Taylor Anthony Hunt. Taylor was 29 years old. He was a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran. On September 27, 2024, we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren’t told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: “A hanging.” Not “suicide.” Not “suicide by hanging.” “A hanging.” I didn’t begin with a theory. I began with questions. And almost two years later, I am still asking them. Today is Prisoners’ Justice Day, and Taylor is not the only reason I am speaking out today. In 2024, 332 people died in Georgia’s state correctional facilities. Three hundred and thirty-two human beings. Since 2020, over 1,900 people have died in GDOC custody. And I deliberately say deaths—not homicides—because I don’t want this conversation to depend upon what label the government puts beside someone’s name. Every one of those numbers represents somebody’s child, parent, brother, sister or spouse. And while people were dying at extraordinary levels, GDC actually stopped including the initial manner of death in the monthly mortality reports it had previously published. At the same time, the U.S. Department of Justice concluded that Georgia was failing to protect incarcerated people from widespread violence and harm. I have watch some our Georgia political leaders this month on the campaign trail speaking so eloquently as they are demanding transparency from the federal government and other political entities. So I went to the Georgia State Capitol today, with one question: Why do our leaders demand transparency from Washington while families like mine have to fight their own state government for it? Transparency cannot be something you believe in only when you’re demanding it from somebody else. Transparency begins at home. Let me tell you what that fight has looked like for my family. When we went to Rogers looking for answers, we were told: There were no suicide notes. We were told there was video showing Taylor throwing away his belongings before he killed himself. Later, alleged suicide letters appeared. And our family says those letters are not in Taylor’s handwriting. So independently authenticate them. Tell us where they were found, when they were found, who found them and who handled them. And explain why we were originally told there were no suicide notes. Then came October 9. That day, my Facebook post asking questions about Taylor’s death went viral. The purported letter from an inmate friend I received was postmarked October 9. And the incident report concerning Taylor’s September 27 death was also dated October 9(not filled out AT ALL until October 9th.) So I ask: Why October 9? I’m not asking you to accept my conclusion about what that means. I’m asking for an INDEPENDENT INVESTIGATION that can determine what it means. Even the 911 call raises questions. Rogers is in Tattnall County. But the call went first to Bulloch County 911 and was transferred to Tattnall County. The caller said she was outside the prison. And she reported that CPR and an AED were being used on Taylor. So I requested the records documenting those lifesaving measures. AED data. Timestamps. Emergency-response records. Who performed CPR. Who operated the AED. We were told the records we requested DID NOT EXIST. How do lifesaving measures exist in the story— but not in the records? Other evidence raises questions too. Taylor’s white pants and white underwear were DISPOSED OF. FLEX CUFFS were retained. Why? When were they used? Who put them on him? Then there is what happened to Taylor’s body. By the time he reached Gwinnett for another examination, he had already been autopsied. According to what our family observed and learned, there was a BLACK PLASTIC BAG over his head. He had not been sewn back together. There was blood on him.(But he supposedly hung himself.) His removed organs (EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM)were together in plastic bag diced up resting at his feet. And for approximately SEVEN DAYS, our family had been unable to account for where his body was. HIS HYOID BONE HAD BEEN REMOVED AND RETAINED AND WE BURIED HIM WITHOUT BEING NOTIFIED….despite the fact the autopsy report later claimed it was normal and in tact. So, why remove it? And even more so, WHY KEEP IT? We have repeatedly requested its return. We still don’t have it. Almost two years later, I still don’t have all of my son back. And material we saw beneath Taylor’s fingernails that we believed could have forensic significance was no longer available in its original condition after his hands were washed. You only get one untouched body. You only get one original death scene. Once evidence is LOST, DISCARDED, WASHED AWAY or DESTROYED— no second autopsy can put it back. So we asked for records. Investigative reports. Photographs. Witness statements. Communications. Staff rosters Emergency-response records. Evidence and chain-of-custody information. What did we get? A heavily redacted incident report and a handful of intake records. The rest has been withheld, declared exempt, said not to exist, or placed beyond our reach without a subpoena. And then something extraordinary happened. Taylor’s case was closed. We received his death certificate. Then I continued requesting the evidence underlying that conclusion. THE CASE WAS REOPENED WITH NO EXPLANATION DESPITE MY BEGGING. And an open investigation became another basis for withholding investigative records. Meanwhile, inmates have told us GBI investigators were at Rogers questioning inmates and strip-searching them while looking for injuries or wounds. Those are witness accounts. But if they are true— where are the investigative records? What were investigators looking for? What did they find? And why can’t Taylor’s family see it? We also on multiple occasions have formally requested a coroner’s inquest. No inquest has been held. So here is where Taylor’s family stands: We weren’t told how he died for five days. We were told there were no suicide notes—then alleged letters appeared that our family says Taylor didn’t write. We were told there was video of him throwing away all of his belongings before he killed himself (which they found safe and sound in the deputy warden’s office after my post on October 9th went viral)—we haven’t received it. The 911 caller reported CPR and an AED—the records we sought were said not to exist. His clothing was disposed of. Flex cuffs were retained. His hyoid was removed and still hasn’t been returned. We requested an inquest—none has been held. The case was closed, a death certificate was issued, and later the case was reopened while investigative records remained beyond our reach. And I am still HERE ASKING: WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SON? I am not asking you to believe me instead of the government. I am asking you to require the government to prove what it says. If Taylor died exactly as the State ultimately concluded— SHOW US THE EVIDENCE If the letters are his— AUTHENTICATE THEM. If the timeline is accurate— PRODUCE THE RECORDS If lifesaving measures occurred— SHOW US THE RECORDS. If every one of these questions has an innocent explanation— THEN TRANSPARENCY SHOULD PROVE IT. And there is an election coming. So I am asking every Georgian: Ask every candidate and every incumbent—regardless of party: What are you going to do about the people dying behind Georgia’s prison walls? Will you require transparency when someone dies in state custody? Will you require preservation of evidence? Will you support independent review? Will you protect the people who are still inside? And will you give their families answers? Don’t accept a talking point. Ask for a commitment. Ask them at campaign events. Call their offices. Write them. AND REMEMBER THEIR ANSWERS WHEN YOU VOTE. Taylor cannot request his records. Taylor cannot demand an inquest. Taylor cannot walk into the Capitol and demand answers. And Taylor cannot vote. BUT WE CAN! Families DESERVE to know how their loved ones died. They deserve the TRUTH. Those still behind those walls deserve PROTECTION. And TRANSPARENCY and ACCOUNTABILITY are not negotiable. My son’s name is TAYLOR ANTHONY HUNT. Remember his face. Remember his name. And when somebody asks for the PRIVILEGE OF GOVERNING THIS STATE— make them answer for what is happening inside its prisons. Truth for Taylor. Justice for those we’ve lost. Protection for those still inside. And ACCOUNTABILITY from those in power. SHARE THIS PLEASE. #TruthforTaylor #FollowTheEvidence #georgiacapitol #georgiaprison #prisonreform #deathsincustody #GovernmentTransparency"
    Read source →
  • OBSERVATION According to Facebook, Tyler Ryals Published: Aug 10, 2026
    Tyler Ryals, a former GDC officer, wrote on Facebook on August 10, 2026: "My name is Heather Hunt Fountain, and I am the mother of Taylor Anthony Hunt. Taylor was 29 years old. He was a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran. On September 27, 2024, we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren’t told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: “A hanging.” Not “suicide.” Not “suicide by hanging.” “A hanging.” I didn’t begin with a theory. I began with questions. And almost two years later, I am still asking them. Today is Prisoners’ Justice Day, and Taylor is not the only reason I am speaking out today. In 2024, 332 people died in Georgia’s state correctional facilities. Three hundred and thirty-two human beings. Since 2020, over 1,900 people have died in GDOC custody. And I deliberately say deaths—not homicides—because I don’t want this conversation to depend upon what label the government puts beside someone’s name. Every one of those numbers represents somebody’s child, parent, brother, sister or spouse. And while people were dying at extraordinary levels, GDC actually stopped including the initial manner of death in the monthly mortality reports it had previously published. At the same time, the U.S. Department of Justice concluded that Georgia was failing to protect incarcerated people from widespread violence and harm. I have watch some our Georgia political leaders this month on the campaign trail speaking so eloquently as they are demanding transparency from the federal government and other political entities. So I went to the Georgia State Capitol today, with one question: Why do our leaders demand transparency from Washington while families like mine have to fight their own state government for it? Transparency cannot be something you believe in only when you’re demanding it from somebody else. Transparency begins at home. Let me tell you what that fight has looked like for my family. When we went to Rogers looking for answers, we were told: There were no suicide notes. We were told there was video showing Taylor throwing away his belongings before he killed himself. Later, alleged suicide letters appeared. And our family says those letters are not in Taylor’s handwriting. So independently authenticate them. Tell us where they were found, when they were found, who found them and who handled them. And explain why we were originally told there were no suicide notes. Then came October 9. That […]"
    "My name is Heather Hunt Fountain, and I am the mother of Taylor Anthony Hunt. Taylor was 29 years old. He was a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran. On September 27, 2024, we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren’t told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: “A hanging.” Not “suicide.” Not “suicide by hanging.” “A hanging.” I didn’t begin with a theory. I began with questions. And almost two years later, I am still asking them. Today is Prisoners’ Justice Day, and Taylor is not the only reason I am speaking out today. In 2024, 332 people died in Georgia’s state correctional facilities. Three hundred and thirty-two human beings. Since 2020, over 1,900 people have died in GDOC custody. And I deliberately say deaths—not homicides—because I don’t want this conversation to depend upon what label the government puts beside someone’s name. Every one of those numbers represents somebody’s child, parent, brother, sister or spouse. And while people were dying at extraordinary levels, GDC actually stopped including the initial manner of death in the monthly mortality reports it had previously published. At the same time, the U.S. Department of Justice concluded that Georgia was failing to protect incarcerated people from widespread violence and harm. I have watch some our Georgia political leaders this month on the campaign trail speaking so eloquently as they are demanding transparency from the federal government and other political entities. So I went to the Georgia State Capitol today, with one question: Why do our leaders demand transparency from Washington while families like mine have to fight their own state government for it? Transparency cannot be something you believe in only when you’re demanding it from somebody else. Transparency begins at home. Let me tell you what that fight has looked like for my family. When we went to Rogers looking for answers, we were told: There were no suicide notes. We were told there was video showing Taylor throwing away his belongings before he killed himself. Later, alleged suicide letters appeared. And our family says those letters are not in Taylor’s handwriting. So independently authenticate them. Tell us where they were found, when they were found, who found them and who handled them. And explain why we were originally told there were no suicide notes. Then came October 9. That day, my Facebook post asking questions about Taylor’s death went viral. The purported letter from an inmate friend I received was postmarked October 9. And the incident report concerning Taylor’s September 27 death was also dated October 9(not filled out AT ALL until October 9th.) So I ask: Why October 9? I’m not asking you to accept my conclusion about what that means. I’m asking for an INDEPENDENT INVESTIGATION that can determine what it means. Even the 911 call raises questions. Rogers is in Tattnall County. But the call went first to Bulloch County 911 and was transferred to Tattnall County. The caller said she was outside the prison. And she reported that CPR and an AED were being used on Taylor. So I requested the records documenting those lifesaving measures. AED data. Timestamps. Emergency-response records. Who performed CPR. Who operated the AED. We were told the records we requested DID NOT EXIST. How do lifesaving measures exist in the story— but not in the records? Other evidence raises questions too. Taylor’s white pants and white underwear were DISPOSED OF. FLEX CUFFS were retained. Why? When were they used? Who put them on him? Then there is what happened to Taylor’s body. By the time he reached Gwinnett for another examination, he had already been autopsied. According to what our family observed and learned, there was a BLACK PLASTIC BAG over his head. He had not been sewn back together. There was blood on him.(But he supposedly hung himself.) His removed organs (EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM)were together in plastic bag diced up resting at his feet. And for approximately SEVEN DAYS, our family had been unable to account for where his body was. HIS HYOID BONE HAD BEEN REMOVED AND RETAINED AND WE BURIED HIM WITHOUT BEING NOTIFIED….despite the fact the autopsy report later claimed it was normal and in tact. So, why remove it? And even more so, WHY KEEP IT? We have repeatedly requested its return. We still don’t have it. Almost two years later, I still don’t have all of my son back. And material we saw beneath Taylor’s fingernails that we believed could have forensic significance was no longer available in its original condition after his hands were washed. You only get one untouched body. You only get one original death scene. Once evidence is LOST, DISCARDED, WASHED AWAY or DESTROYED— no second autopsy can put it back. So we asked for records. Investigative reports. Photographs. Witness statements. Communications. Staff rosters Emergency-response records. Evidence and chain-of-custody information. What did we get? A heavily redacted incident report and a handful of intake records. The rest has been withheld, declared exempt, said not to exist, or placed beyond our reach without a subpoena. And then something extraordinary happened. Taylor’s case was closed. We received his death certificate. Then I continued requesting the evidence underlying that conclusion. THE CASE WAS REOPENED WITH NO EXPLANATION DESPITE MY BEGGING. And an open investigation became another basis for withholding investigative records. Meanwhile, inmates have told us GBI investigators were at Rogers questioning inmates and strip-searching them while looking for injuries or wounds. Those are witness accounts. But if they are true— where are the investigative records? What were investigators looking for? What did they find? And why can’t Taylor’s family see it? We also on multiple occasions have formally requested a coroner’s inquest. No inquest has been held. So here is where Taylor’s family stands: We weren’t told how he died for five days. We were told there were no suicide notes—then alleged letters appeared that our family says Taylor didn’t write. We were told there was video of him throwing away all of his belongings before he killed himself (which they found safe and sound in the deputy warden’s office after my post on October 9th went viral)—we haven’t received it. The 911 caller reported CPR and an AED—the records we sought were said not to exist. His clothing was disposed of. Flex cuffs were retained. His hyoid was removed and still hasn’t been returned. We requested an inquest—none has been held. The case was closed, a death certificate was issued, and later the case was reopened while investigative records remained beyond our reach. And I am still HERE ASKING: WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SON? I am not asking you to believe me instead of the government. I am asking you to require the government to prove what it says. If Taylor died exactly as the State ultimately concluded— SHOW US THE EVIDENCE If the letters are his— AUTHENTICATE THEM. If the timeline is accurate— PRODUCE THE RECORDS If lifesaving measures occurred— SHOW US THE RECORDS. If every one of these questions has an innocent explanation— THEN TRANSPARENCY SHOULD PROVE IT. And there is an election coming. So I am asking every Georgian: Ask every candidate and every incumbent—regardless of party: What are you going to do about the people dying behind Georgia’s prison walls? Will you require transparency when someone dies in state custody? Will you require preservation of evidence? Will you support independent review? Will you protect the people who are still inside? And will you give their families answers? Don’t accept a talking point. Ask for a commitment. Ask them at campaign events. Call their offices. Write them. AND REMEMBER THEIR ANSWERS WHEN YOU VOTE. Taylor cannot request his records. Taylor cannot demand an inquest. Taylor cannot walk into the Capitol and demand answers. And Taylor cannot vote. BUT WE CAN! Families DESERVE to know how their loved ones died. They deserve the TRUTH. Those still behind those walls deserve PROTECTION. And TRANSPARENCY and ACCOUNTABILITY are not negotiable. My son’s name is TAYLOR ANTHONY HUNT. Remember his face. Remember his name. And when somebody asks for the PRIVILEGE OF GOVERNING THIS STATE— make them answer for what is happening inside its prisons. Truth for Taylor. Justice for those we’ve lost. Protection for those still inside. And ACCOUNTABILITY from those in power. SHARE THIS PLEASE. #TruthforTaylor #FollowTheEvidence #georgiacapitol #georgiaprison #prisonreform #deathsincustody #GovernmentTransparency"
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Timeline (13)

September 1, 2026
Contraband surge in H building within a week of a publicized drone interdiction (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man says that less than a week after a drone was intercepted at Rogers State Prison, H building saw an influx of cell phones, marijuana, methamphetamine and strips. He offers his own inference that the drone bust functioned as a front. GPS enters the observed timing; the inference is the poster's. report
Claim: The poster says that within a week of a drone interdiction at Rogers State Prison, H building experienced an overflow of contraband — cell phones, marijuana, methamphetamine and strips. He states his belief that the drone bust was "a…
September 1, 2026
Understaffing and officer conduct — refusal to assist, provocation, "maybe you shouldn't have come to prison" (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man describes Rogers State Prison as badly understaffed, and says some officers were on a power trip, some refused to help when asked, and some would try to provoke prisoners at any opportunity. He gives the standard response to a request for help as: "maybe you shouldn't have come to prison." report
Claim: The poster describes Rogers State Prison as severely understaffed and characterizes officer conduct in three patterns: officers exercising authority punitively, officers declining to assist prisoners who ask for help, and officers actively provoking prisoners. He reports the routine answer…
September 1, 2026
Fan motor fire in H-2 attributed by maintenance to the motor, then charged to a prisoner — witness account (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man says a fan in H-2 malfunctioned and its motor caught fire, that all of H building was evacuated outside, and that the maintenance worker on scene confirmed to prisoners that the motor was the cause. He says the warden then arrived with a fire chief and the two discussed having to attribute the fire to someone, that prisoners watching objected because they had already been told the cause, and that later the same day a man was removed from H-2 and charged. The poster, housed in H-4, does not know his name and says he believes the man was wrongfully accused. report
Claim: A ceiling fan in H-2 at Rogers State Prison malfunctioned and its motor caught fire. All of H building was evacuated to the outside. Prisoners watched a maintenance worker examine the fan; when asked whether the motor was the…
September 1, 2026
Callouts and yard access denied under lockdowns that are not actually in effect (Rogers State Prison, H building / "trackside") — A formerly incarcerated man says men housed on the "trackside" side of Rogers State Prison are issued callouts they rarely get to attend, with staff citing a lockdown he says is not actually happening, and that men housed in H building rarely receive a yard call to go outside. report
Claim: Prisoners housed on the side of Rogers State Prison referred to as "trackside" are scheduled callouts — the appointments that carry medical, mental health, counselor, education, and program access — but rarely reach them. The poster says the reason…
September 1, 2026
Civilian farm supervisor supplied vapes and computer access on the GCI dairy detail, then blamed the workers — collective loss of detail (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man says a civilian farm hand overseeing the dairy-milking detail at Rogers State Prison supplied vapes to the men working it and let them into the farm office to use a computer. When Georgia Correctional Industries staff discovered prisoners had been in the office, the poster says the same staffer told them the men had broken in. The poster says he was accused of stealing food and drink mixes, lost his work detail over the episode, and was refused any detail for the remainder of his sentence — while, he says, the actual thefts were later traced to a different shift. report
Claim: On the dairy-milking work detail at Rogers State Prison, a civilian farm hand (identified in the post by first name only) obtained vapes for prisoners to use during work hours and allowed them into the farm office, where they…
September 1, 2026
Counselor known to prisoners as "Cowboy" arrested for bringing in drugs and phones (Rogers State Prison) — A formerly incarcerated man, posting publicly, says a counselor at Rogers State Prison whom prisoners called "Cowboy" — identifiable by his cowboy hat, boots and dress shirts — was arrested after staff learned he was bringing contraband drugs ("toochie") and cell phones into the facility. The account is undated; the poster describes a past period of incarceration at Rogers and does not state years. report
Claim: A counselor at Rogers State Prison, known among the prisoner population by the nickname "Cowboy" for his cowboy hat, boots and button-up shirts, was arrested after it was discovered he was introducing contraband — drugs referred to as "toochie"…
August 10, 2026
Heather Hunt wrote on Facebook on August 10, 2026: "My name is Heather Hunt Fountain, and I am the mother of Taylor Anthony Hunt. Taylor was 29 years old. He was a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran. On September 27, 2024, we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren’t told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: “A hanging.” Not “suicide.” Not “suicide by hanging.” “A hanging.” I didn’t begin with a theory. I began with questions. And almost two years later, I am still asking them. Today is Prisoners’ Justice Day, and Taylor is not the only reason I am speaking out today. In 2024, 332 people died in Georgia’s state correctional facilities. Three hundred and thirty-two human beings. Since 2020, over 1,900 people have died in GDOC custody. And I deliberately say deaths—not homicides—because I don’t want this conversation to depend upon what label the government puts beside someone’s name. Every one of those numbers represents somebody’s child, parent, brother, sister or spouse. And while people were dying at extraordinary levels, GDC actually stopped including the initial manner of death in the monthly mortality reports it had previously published. At the same time, the U.S. Department of Justice concluded that Georgia was failing to protect incarcerated people from widespread violence and harm. I have watch some our Georgia political leaders this month on the campaign trail speaking so eloquently as they are demanding transparency from the federal government and other political entities. So I went to the Georgia State Capitol today, with one question: Why do our leaders demand transparency from Washington while families like mine have to fight their own state government for it? Transparency cannot be something you believe in only when you’re demanding it from somebody else. Transparency begins at home. Let me tell you what that fight has looked like for my family. When we went to Rogers looking for answers, we were told: There were no suicide notes. We were told there was video showing Taylor throwing away his belongings before he killed himself. Later, alleged suicide letters appeared. And our family says those letters are not in Taylor’s handwriting. So independently authenticate them. Tell us where they were found, when they were found, who found them and who handled them. And explain why we were originally told there were no suicide notes. Then came October 9. That […]" report
August 10, 2026
Tyler Ryals, a former GDC officer, wrote on Facebook on August 10, 2026: "My name is Heather Hunt Fountain, and I am the mother of Taylor Anthony Hunt. Taylor was 29 years old. He was a father, a son, a grandson, and a veteran. On September 27, 2024, we were told Taylor had died while incarcerated at Rogers State Prison. But we weren’t told how. For five days, my family knew my son was dead without knowing how he died. Five days later, we were finally told two words: “A hanging.” Not “suicide.” Not “suicide by hanging.” “A hanging.” I didn’t begin with a theory. I began with questions. And almost two years later, I am still asking them. Today is Prisoners’ Justice Day, and Taylor is not the only reason I am speaking out today. In 2024, 332 people died in Georgia’s state correctional facilities. Three hundred and thirty-two human beings. Since 2020, over 1,900 people have died in GDOC custody. And I deliberately say deaths—not homicides—because I don’t want this conversation to depend upon what label the government puts beside someone’s name. Every one of those numbers represents somebody’s child, parent, brother, sister or spouse. And while people were dying at extraordinary levels, GDC actually stopped including the initial manner of death in the monthly mortality reports it had previously published. At the same time, the U.S. Department of Justice concluded that Georgia was failing to protect incarcerated people from widespread violence and harm. I have watch some our Georgia political leaders this month on the campaign trail speaking so eloquently as they are demanding transparency from the federal government and other political entities. So I went to the Georgia State Capitol today, with one question: Why do our leaders demand transparency from Washington while families like mine have to fight their own state government for it? Transparency cannot be something you believe in only when you’re demanding it from somebody else. Transparency begins at home. Let me tell you what that fight has looked like for my family. When we went to Rogers looking for answers, we were told: There were no suicide notes. We were told there was video showing Taylor throwing away his belongings before he killed himself. Later, alleged suicide letters appeared. And our family says those letters are not in Taylor’s handwriting. So independently authenticate them. Tell us where they were found, when they were found, who found them and who handled them. And explain why we were originally told there were no suicide notes. Then came October 9. That […]" report

Former leadership

Officials who previously held leadership roles at this facility.

RoleNameTenureDeaths
this facility / career
WARDEN 1 (facility lead) West, Sandi R2024-06-16 → 2025-12-316 / 6
WARDEN 1 (facility lead) Page, Tracy Glynn2001-01-01 → 2023-12-315 / 6
Deputy Warden of Care and Treatment (facility deputy) Finch, Karen Ruth2021-01-01 → 2024-07-319 / 63
Deputy Warden (facility deputy) Forrest, Vikki2026-08-27 → 2026-08-27— / —
Deputy Warden (facility deputy) Irwin, Vikki G2023-11-22 → 2023-11-22— / —
DEPUTY WARDEN (facility deputy) McFarlane, Andrew M2017-01-01 → 2018-12-31— / 53
DEPUTY WARDEN (facility deputy) Clark, Jennifer R2012-01-01 → 2016-12-31— / —
Clinical Chaplain (specialty lead) Wilt, Calvin D2023-11-22 → 2026-08-27— / —

View full GDC Leadership Accountability page →

Location

1978 GA Hwy 147, Reidsville, GA 30453 32.00050, -82.17920

Aerial View

Aerial view of ROGERS STATE PRISON

Satellite image: Esri World Imagery. Architecture documents what the building was designed to hold. See the system-wide receipts at gps.press/warehouse.

Then and now

Aerial photo of ROGERS STATE PRISON, January 27, 1983
January 27, 1983USGS aerial photo (NHAP NB1NHAP830006080)
Aerial photo of ROGERS STATE PRISON, February 16, 1988
February 16, 1988USGS aerial photo (NAPP 652-179)
Aerial photo of ROGERS STATE PRISON, February 14, 1993
February 14, 1993USGS aerial photo (NAPP 6547-114, 6547-116)
Aerial photo of ROGERS STATE PRISON, February 7, 1999
February 7, 1999USGS aerial photo (NAPP 11168-105, 11168-107)
Aerial photo of ROGERS STATE PRISON, Today
TodayEsri World Imagery

Each photo shows the same 1.2 km square, north up, so buildings line up from one year to the next. The older photos are U.S. Geological Survey aerial photographs. The photos from 1988 and earlier were taken on film and lined up with the later ones by their roads, so their positions are approximate. The early-1980s photos were taken from very high up and are less sharp. Select a photo to see it full size.