We may consider maximum-security prison as the place of least freedom on earth. Valentino Dixon has proven otherwise. His exoneration last fall, sparked by a surprising journey involving colored pencil golf sketches, serves as an example of the highest we can choose in the most limited circumstances.
Dixon’s trial reads like a classic crime drama meant to incite our sense of injustice. Yet it’s the alignment of his lifelong path to freedom that most caught my attention. Dixon shared that in the worst nightmare imaginable…for whatever reason, God kept sending me signs. And I wasn’t a strong believer in God before that. But He kept sending me signs, and each sign He sent was like “Hold on.” Here’s the unfoldment.
Dixon’s uncle brings art supplies to the prison to encourage Dixon’s love of art. It takes seven years for him to begin drawing again. He’s not allowed oil paints, so he explores a new method of layering colored pencils.
Louise Piromalli finds his art on the Internet; they marry in the Attica cafeteria in 2002. She prints and distributes his greeting cards designs until an expired visa requires her return to Australia.
Enter the next catalyst—Attica’s superintendent and avid golfer, James Conway, who brings a photograph of the 12th hole at Augusta National, asking if Dixon might draw it as a favor. Dixon’s response? After 19 years in Attica, the look of a golf hole spoke to me. It seemed peaceful. I imagine playing it would be a lot like fishing. Within that peace, Dixon draws over 100 “golf designs” in the next two years, often referenced by photos in back issues of Golf Digest lent to him by a fellow inmate.
Eventually, Dixon reaches out to editor Max Adler, answering a story request from the monthly column called How Golf Saved My Life. The small golf drawing included opens Adler’s heart and mind. Max gets involved with the case, bringing the media attention that attracts key people who eventually secure Dixon’s release.
Though many played their part, only Dixon himself could maintain the spiritual state that would allow events an opportunity to play out in his favor. He chose not to hold a grudge against the man who actually committed the crime because I knew it would kill my spirit. He accepted all gifts that came his way, whether challenging or uplifting. He focused on creating what he loved and spent much time imagining freedom.
Everything good that I have now, like sharing delicious food with my family, sleeping under my mother’s roof, I dreamed about for so many years, it’s like I’ve done it already. All that time, you see, my mind was on the outside. Drawing and reading, I was living in a fantasy. Now that I’m here, it’s no shock.
In a sense, was Valentino Dixon just as free behind bars as outside the prison walls?
Dixon’s humility and heart is evident in this interview. May it help you find your own freedom trail.