The Prison Podcast Episode 8: It Wasn’t About The Bike
February 5, 2025
In this episode, Steven opens up about his tumultuous past — growing up on welfare, surviving through drug dealing, and enduring the lasting effects of domestic violence. He reflects on how his life spiraled into addiction and the long, painful journey toward self-awareness and healing. Steven also shares a poignant memory of a chance encounter with Floyd, Michele’s husband, and the profound consequences that followed, culminating in Floyd’s tragic murder.
Nearly 19 years later, Steven participates in a Victim-Offender Dialogue with Michele. This powerful process allows him to share his side of the story and hear the grief and pain that Michele has carried for nearly two decades. Guided by a mentor, Steven embarks on a transformative journey of redemption, finding peace in this deeply healing experience. He reflects on how the dialogue helped lift the weight of his past, offering clarity and restoring his sense of humanity and hope.
Transcription
Michael: My name is Michael, and I’m the Inside Communications Director at San Quentin. The contents of this episode include strong language and graphic descriptions of violent crimes, which may include sexual assault. This podcast is intended for mature audiences. Listener discretion is advised.
Diane: Hello, and welcome back to the prison podcast. I’m your host, Diane Kahn, and I’m thrilled to have you join us today. In the last episode, Michele opened up about her emotional journey, one that ultimately led her to sit across from Steven in a victim-offender dialogue. Today, we’ll be in conversation with Steven, who’s been incarcerated at Mule Creek State Prison for 20 years for his involvement in the tragic death of Michele’s husband. A heads up: this conversation was recorded from Steven’s prison cell, so the audio may have a raw edge, but trust me, the weight of his words more than makes up for it. Get ready for a deeply human perspective that challenges, surprises, and sticks with you long after the episode ends. Today, we’re sitting down with Steven Burkholder, who’s incarcerated at Mule Creek State Prison in California. Steven, I want to thank you for taking the time to share your story with us today.
Steven: Thank you for allowing me to share my story with you.
Diane: You were telling me about growing up with your mom and how she loved you.
Steven: I never had a real dad. My biological dad, I have no idea who he is; I’ve never met him. So, I had a stepdad, a stepfather. I want to go back to when I was around 11 or 12. I’m 63 years old now, just a couple of years away from the hippie era—six struts, rock and roll, and all that stuff. But yeah, parking was a thing in the late ’60s and early ’70s, and that’s when I was going through junior high and high school. I got into trouble as a kid, but nothing too major—car theft, joyriding, things like that. I went to juvenile hall, but I never went to Boy’s Ranch or YA or anything like that until later. I was introduced to hard narcotics at 12—heroin and that kind of lifestyle. So, growing up as a teenager, it was all about crime, getting high, doing drugs. It was glamorized. My mom didn’t have money, so I had to go to school so she could collect welfare. That’s how we lived. Welfare was subsidized by drug sales. My stepdad was part of the picture, but I never felt like I belonged to him. I didn’t have that father-son bond. Looking back, I see that I tried, but I was far from succeeding. In my teenage years, it was all about being cool—partying, getting high, selling drugs, and making money on the streets. I didn’t know about family morals. Sometimes, I think my mom tried to keep me away from my stepdad by trying to put me in a group home, but she was powerless to do anything about it. She loved me, but there was only so much she could do. There was a lot of violence in the house; I saw him get beaten a few times. It was tough. I left home and went out on my own. By the time I was 14 or 15, I found my place on the streets. That’s where I learned what normal life was like. I started living with my friends and stopped coming home so much. That’s when I saw how a big family unit worked and how people interacted with each other. I didn’t have that at home. I have a stepbrother and a stepsister, but I have no idea where they are now. But I did make a change. I went through this program, Rational Behavior Therapy (RBT), and when I finished it, they told me I could be out in six months. I flew through the program. I was like, “I’m educated now.” I finished high school, made it through this program, and thought I had things figured out. When I got out, within a year, I met my wife, the love of my life. She changed me. I had a job, and for the first time, it felt like I was on the right path. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was like a dream come true. I think Michele went through something like that too. Her husband was her childhood sweetheart, her lifelong love. In some ways, we’re similar—long-term relationships, ups and downs. But being from a broken home, I didn’t want to create another broken home, yet I still had drugs in the background. In the ‘70s, partying was the thing to do—cruising, having fun, and taking minimal responsibility. I didn’t have to experience those things before, but I tried to take them on. The easy money aspect, though, that ruined my relationship. The very thing that I thought was helping me—making quick money—ruined everything. It was difficult for me to handle.
Diane: Explain to us a little better—how did it ruin it?
Steven: I was using, and I got hurt using. Drugs do crazy things to people; they change them. The crime happened in the middle of the night. I know I was high, and he was high. I know he had drugs, and some fell out of his sock. We were both out running the streets at night. By then, my marriage was pretty much over. I had a different girlfriend, but I didn’t have anything. I had nothing in my life. I had five kids at the time, but they were with their grandma through CPS. I had no responsibility anymore. I was just out there, doing nothing, getting in trouble.
Diane: Do you mind taking us back to the night of the crime and explaining what happened?
Steven: I was coming home. I had never met Floyd before that night. I don’t know why he was where he was, and I don’t know why I was where I was. I just thought I was walking home late, around one or two o’clock in the morning. It was just a chance meeting. I remember he had a chain around his neck, and I had a bracelet, or maybe a match. He wanted to make a deal that was going to turn into a drug deal, but it escalated. Being high, maybe his stuff got misinterpreted, and it just turned into this. I call it “peacock” behavior because it’s like that male ego—when someone disrespects you, you react. That’s what happened. I found myself in that situation, and I can’t pinpoint exactly why it went the way it did. I told Michelle I didn’t even know the man had died until the day I got arrested. That was a lot for me to take in. It shook my whole foundation. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sure she told you that I spent a lot of time in county jail. I went through every public defender in the office. I don’t know why, but there was always an excuse for why the attorneys couldn’t handle my case. I didn’t have control over that. There are only so many qualified attorneys in the office, and I think that’s why the case got twisted around. She told me she thought I was playing games, but I honestly didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want to accept it, and I was just shaking, trying to accept something I didn’t understand. So, I was on a long walk and ran into Floyd. We started talking, and he wanted to buy my bracelet, which matched his. He snapped at me, and I snapped back. That’s when I call it peacock behavior—my male ego kicked in. I learned a lot of that from prison. When you’re in places like that, you talk to people nice and polite, but if they disrespect you, it’s like a switch flips. And I remember thinking, “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” And it was over nothing. It’s ridiculous now, but at the time, it felt huge. Looking back, it’s embarrassing. I told Michelle I didn’t feel anything but shame and embarrassment that drugs or whatever led me to become a person who could do something like that. There’s no big story. He smarted off to me, I smarted off back, he called my bluff, and I just reached out. He looked at me like I was crazy, and I was scared. I remember seeing people coming toward us, and that’s when I panicked. There was a club nearby, about a block and a half away, and I could see people walking toward us. I looked around, and I panicked. I saw a stool on the sidewalk in front of a building, and I noticed cars parked on the street. I was looking around, and Floyd was staring at me. When I reached out, he was stabbed, but I didn’t know how bad it was. He didn’t fall, and I got even more scared because he just looked at me like I was crazy. There was a bike off to the side, and I jumped on it and rode off. That was it. I didn’t know he had died until I was arrested. The case got twisted around—they said I robbed him for his bike, but that wasn’t the case. The bike had nothing to do with it. I just needed a way to get away. If I could do it all over again, I think I would take the stand and tell my story the way I’m telling you now. That’s what I did with Michelle—I just told her the truth. I didn’t know what Martina and Barbara wanted from me at first. I was just trying to figure out what they wanted. I never dealt with stuff like this before. I wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t look my victims in the eyes and tell them. But eventually, I had an awakening. I just decided to tell the truth. That’s all I could do. I wasn’t as bad as I thought. When I was talking to Barbara Martinez, she told me she wanted me to feel what she felt. I took that with me, and it stayed with me. We had that interview on October 17th. My first grandson had just died in a motorcycle accident two weeks after moving down where they are now. I also have a son who got shot. He was innocent—never been in trouble before. Barbara and Martina knew about all of that. They were good to me. They didn’t push me too hard. My family and I weren’t able to talk about this openly. After the trial, my family was arguing in the courtroom. My kids and her kids were fighting. It was ugly. I wasn’t there, but I know it was hard on everyone. My kids were hurt, her family was hurt, and everyone was devastated. It’s a lot to take in. That’s what I remember.
Diane: Yeah, that’s a lot to process, Steven—just the aftermath of that one chance encounter. Gosh, I’m sorry to hear about your grandson and your son, and everything you’re facing. And how much it’s changed her family as well. I just want to let you know that I feel for you. It’s a lot.
Steven: Oh, like I said, it’s fine. I never thought anybody would care about me. In my life, I’ve never had much to speak of. I’ve never really cried about it. I’ve had chances, but nothing—nothing spectacular. For a chance meeting like that, it’s like a million-to-one chance. It never crossed my mind that I’d be sitting where I am today. I’m not a Joe Citizen by any means, but to kill someone over nothing, you know? It’s just… basically over nothing. It’s still hard for me to swallow. There are no words to explain it, no justification. And yeah, don’t think I take this lightly. I told Michelle—don’t think it’s something I think is funny, or that I’m not heartbroken about it. It’s just heartbreaking. I got pretty emotional when I explained it to her. Emotions I didn’t even know I had. It’s such a waste. Just a waste.
Diane: I can’t imagine sitting face-to-face with her, dealing with all those emotions, especially the ones that are just coming up now. So, walk us through how that day went.
Steven: I’ll tell you, Martini and Barbara, they did so much more for me than they think they did. That’s why I credit them with the success we’ve had.
Diane: They are wonderful people. How were you feeling going into that morning?
Steven: Barbara would come back, talk to me, make sure I was okay. I don’t know, I don’t want to say it, but I had an awakening. I never talked about why I’m here. It’s not something I share with people. People don’t need to know. It’s just not something I talk about. I don’t brag about it. At the time, I had my oldest son. He was the bright spot in all this. He was my celly for most of my time in here until I got here a year ago. It’s unbelievable. You couldn’t write this stuff. The way my life turned out—it’s crazy. And during my trial, Michelle and Floyd’s son was in the same tank as me. It was like, wow. It was unbelievable. It was weird.
Diane: Just the sheer coincidence of all that.
Steven: I don’t know about coincidences. God was showing me signs in all kinds of different ways, and it was just weird. When I got to reception, I finally caught up with my son for the first time. And then they had a son there too. We were about the same age, within five years of each other. We went to school in the same era, and had similar life experiences. Michelle said they’d been together since the sandbox—lifelong partners, kids. I’ve got five kids; she has about the same number. Same kinds of dysfunction—prison, drugs, family issues. It’s unbelievable how alike our stories were. But when I was asking Martina what she wanted from me, she just wanted me to feel what she felt. That was easy. It’s like when I told Michelle my story—I could see what she was going through. I’ve told Barbara and Michelle this too. She knew who she married. She had to know the person he was if they were together that long. But even so, I don’t think he was an innocent victim. He was a victim of chance, of circumstances. He wasn’t innocent, but we were both getting high, and it was just one of those random, nightmare situations. I spent a lot of time trying to forget about it, up until Barbara and Martina came and asked if I wanted to participate in the dialogue. Honestly, I explained what happened to my kids, but I never really talked about it beyond that. There was no real reason to. But I gave Michelle what she needed to move on, and I’m proud of that, honestly. I’m proud that I was able to do that, given the circumstances. But I’m not proud of what happened.
Diane: In victim-offender dialogues, I think you sit down first, and then they bring the victim in, right? What were you thinking in those first few minutes? What was it like?
Steven: Yeah, I remember walking in, looking around. It’s a big conference table—probably 10, 15 feet long. Barbara and Martina were on one side, and I was on the other. It wasn’t close. There were officers and computers around. It was a secure space. Martina had taught me some tricks for keeping my composure. I used to tap my knee to help me stay calm, and I’d breathe evenly. There’s an app called Calm with techniques to help you stay relaxed—I used that. The letter she had was about 10 pages long, maybe more. It wasn’t just one big letter, but a bunch of smaller pages. Everything was vivid in my mind. That’s how the interview started—Martina took charge, explained everything, and then allowed her to read the letter. She was calm and collected, but there was a lot of venom in that letter. I remember she talked about how she recommended the death penalty for me, and even volunteered to push the button. She didn’t think I was sorry. The only thing I was sorry for, she said, was getting caught. Then she went on to explain what I took from her, what she lost. That’s what I remember.
Diane: It sounds like she already had a narrative about you from the very beginning, even from that night. What happened next?
Steven: I just told her the truth. After she finished, everything felt normal, and I told her that I completely understood what she meant and where she was coming from. I apologized, even though I didn’t say “I’m sorry” outright, because I didn’t think those words could be enough. I wrote an apology letter, and I think I did pretty well with it, but in a situation like this, just saying “I’m sorry” isn’t enough for me. To truly express a sincere apology in a situation like this—it’s not easy at all. But I did my best. She shared with me something out there—she said that a medium, someone who claimed to connect with the spirit world, told her that her husband came to her and told her to forgive me. I thought that was incredible. No pun intended, but I thought that’s what motivated her to go through this process. At the time, I was at Kern Valley, and I was the only one there going through this. My friends all thought I was lucky, but I didn’t feel lucky at all. I was terrified. Honestly, I had no idea how to even begin this process. Nothing could prepare you for something like this. That’s why I give so much credit to Martina and Barbara—they did a great job helping me through it, and showing me how to approach it. Their experience made all the difference.
Diane: They’re seasoned in it, and I love that they taught you relaxation techniques.
Steven: Yeah, that’s really what helped. I remember when she told me about Floyd coming to her through the medium and telling her to forgive me. I thought that was just… unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything like it. You see court shows on TV where everyone’s yelling at each other, screaming for an eye for an eye, a life for a life. But I don’t believe in that. It just makes us all the same, and it doesn’t fix anything. I got the sense that she didn’t fully believe what happened in court, that she didn’t believe the story she was told. And when I explained everything to her, I mentioned earlier that she knew who her husband was. She knew the man she married. And I think once she heard what happened, she just knew it was the truth. She knew it. She understood that, given the circumstances, that was who he was. There was no room for lying or minimizing anything. The truth is the truth—you know it when you hear it. I think that’s what gave her relief, knowing that she got it right.
Diane: From what I gathered from her, it seemed like the puzzle finally came together for Michelle. She knew who her husband was, but when she had a chance to sit down with you, it all clicked. The truth finally came to light for her.
Steven: Yeah, I’d say the clouds cleared, and the puzzle came together. There was this moment in that room where you could just feel it. Like I said, I could tell she didn’t hate me anymore, and that made me feel really good. But I don’t think she could bring herself to say, “I forgive you.” She couldn’t go that far. She didn’t believe in God, either. She had her own beliefs about the man upstairs, and she was open about that. She was who she was. She held it together better than I did, I’ll tell you that. But she was real. As tragic and horrible as the whole thing was, she understood. She understood life, how life can throw stuff at you. It’s like she just got it. I don’t know how to explain it, but when you tell someone the truth, you can see it in their eyes. They just know. I wasn’t trying to bullshit her or anything. She could see that I wasn’t. And then she asked me, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” She said the DA had painted a picture of me as someone who didn’t care about anything, only about Mike. But that wasn’t the truth. The DA just wanted his conviction, and he didn’t care about the truth. He just wanted to win. I don’t think my attorney cared much about the truth either. I didn’t have much of a defense. But if I could go back, I would’ve just gotten on the stand and told the story I told her. I think that would’ve been the best thing to do. I’m sorry I didn’t do that, but I was told not to. She asked me why I didn’t tell her before, and I told her, “We’re not allowed to contact you. If we tried to, that would’ve been more felonies. I don’t know what would’ve happened, but I know it would’ve gotten us in trouble.”
Diane: Yeah, the system’s set up to protect people’s rights, but it can also hurt them. I wish more people were like Michelle, reaching out to understand the person behind the event, to get clarity, and to piece it all together. It’s important to see the whole picture, to clear away the clouds.
Steven: Yeah, you just go through life, not knowing what’s coming or when. I never could’ve predicted this. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not a law-abiding citizen. I’ve been cheating, breaking the rules, and doing drugs most of my life. I’m not trying to brag; it’s just the reality. That was my survival. And I think Floyd was pretty much the same. I understand that. I think he was on parole at the time. I don’t know how long he’d been out, but we came from similar backgrounds and different circumstances, but same struggles. We were like two dark forces meeting in the middle of the night, one had to win, and the other lost. It could’ve gone either way. Honestly, I’m not bragging or minimizing, but it could have easily been the other way around.
Diane: Since your victim-offender dialogue with Michelle, how has your life changed?
Steven: I think I got a little of my self-esteem back. I have some hope now. I feel good inside. I felt this weight lift off my shoulders. And I think it lifted off hers too. For so long, people in my position have been seen as worthless, like we’re nothing like we don’t matter. But being able to give her some clarity, to help her move on—it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done, considering the circumstances. I talk about it all the time with my friends here.
Diane: So, when your friends inside said you were lucky to have that opportunity to sit down with Michelle, and you were nervous about it, now you understand what they meant?
Steven: Yeah, I can honestly say that I feel human again. It’s just crazy to think that I’m talking to you on the phone here from San Quentin. But it gave me a sense of normalcy. I don’t feel like a monster anymore. People like me, often get labeled as evil or beyond redemption. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I got to tell my side of the story, and that made me feel human again. I can’t wear that jacket of being a monster. It’s just not me. After our conversation, it felt crazy. She hugged me. I was already walking out of the room, not knowing what to do, and then, out of nowhere, I had to walk back in because of some officer commotion, and she hugged me. It was unbelievable. The way I felt—it was like I was normal again. It was the best feeling I’ve had in a long time. I felt human again.
Diane: Yeah, the healing that both of you went through. Gosh, that’s wonderful to hear, Steven.
Steven: I have to honestly say that I credit my groups here. I’m not going crazy with the groups, but I’ve been in a couple—Life Group, Criminal CGA, Criminal Gangs Anonymous, and different groups that are relevant to a person like me. I just wish I knew then what I know now. If I could have been able to talk to her before… this is a restorative justice thing, man. It’s incredible. If I’d done it ahead of time… back when I was still a youngster, before taking on this pattern of mine, the resources that are available today, I sure wish they were available when I needed them, because they’ve taught me a lot. Just the insight, being inside all along. I think that’s what got me through that meeting with Michelle. I talk to my friends a lot, and they think I’m lucky. They want to do it too. I tell them about me. That’s what I learned: the victim has to be the one to initiate. I don’t know if I agree with that. I think they should be able to change that. But there was more to what went on with me. I’ve been in situations, where things are a lot different as far as the system goes. I just think the justice system is supposed to be about the truth, and I just don’t see any of that in the process I went through. Nothing mattered. All the DA cared about was getting the conviction at all costs. He didn’t care about anything, nothing that needed to be cared about. I think the victim—Michele—had every right to know. She deserved what I was able to tell her. Why couldn’t that have happened beforehand? Why did she have to live that way for 18 years? It’s been 20, but you said 18. Why did she have to live like that for 18 years, just not knowing? And I think it’s also about their wanting to meet me too. Because what happened in court was… man, they talked about everything. They talked about everything but what happened, and they didn’t tell the truth. “The truth will set you free.” I’m living that. I just feel like I’m living that. As I said, I never told anybody the actual events of that night until I told her. The way she accepted it, the way she received it… it just wasn’t… man, it should have happened a lot sooner. I just wish it had happened a lot sooner. If I could go back, I said, if I could go back and take it again, I would have gotten on that stand and said the same thing—just tell the truth, whatever happens. Because, like I said, as far as getting away with it, it happened. It’s tragic, it happened, but I didn’t wake up that morning knowing this is what was going to happen to me. This is going to be my life. I didn’t do it on purpose. The behavior, the lifestyle, the reckless behavior—yes. I should have known better. I was old enough to know better. I make no justification. I don’t minimize any of it, but I didn’t intend for the result to happen the way it did.
Diane: And so dive into that a little bit with us. You get on the bike that night and leave, and then how many days later did you get arrested?
Steven: To be honest with you, I’m not exactly sure. I was moving around a lot between my daughter’s house and my mother-in-law’s house. It could have been two weeks. I don’t think so. I’m not exactly sure. I know I don’t remember the exact day it happened. I remember I got arrested on June 4th.
Diane: Where were you when you got arrested?
Steven: I was at the store, at a thrift store. There weren’t a lot of people in there, but they pretty much knew who I was, and they were zeroing in on me. They approached me fast if I remember.
Diane: And then why did you think you were being arrested, or what was going through your mind?
Steven: I knew what happened. I didn’t know the extent. I knew he was hurt and that he had been stabbed. I knew, but I didn’t, like I said, I didn’t know that he had passed. They didn’t say anything. They wouldn’t say anything. I was put in the car, and I was transported down to the police department. Very few words were exchanged at all. I was just swimming fast, trying to put my puzzle together.
Diane: And how did you find out?
Steven: Through the interview process. They tried to interview me for hours. I don’t remember exactly how the interview went. That was like a whirlwind. Like I said, my mind was going fast. It was a lot to take in. The emotional rollercoaster I was on… honestly, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I just shut down. I think that’s the best way I can describe it. I just shut down.
Diane: That’s incredible. The second you were put in that car, your voice was taken; it never was heard again until you sat down with Michelle 18 years later, and it’s only because she wanted to have some kind of closure.
Steven: She had to tell me about what the DA told her. It was like, man, it was like a cheerleader. It was like he was trying to glorify the fact that I got caught. He was going to get the win, like a football game. And he just painted his picture of it. I thought it was a shot of some kind of monster. To me, that was just, first, from the truth. I told her, I said, look, I wasn’t playing games. I didn’t know how to accept this. My mind just wouldn’t let me. There was no one I could talk to. In a couple of interviews, my daughter and I have a special father-daughter relationship. They twisted our conversations around. Anything that was said on the phone, or anything—man, it was just all twisted around. Everything was geared towards that moment. Yes, every word spoken is evidence, and it’s just how it goes. I just think we’re the same kind of people. I don’t think I’m better than anybody, or he’s better than anybody. Like I said, we’re the same kind of people, grew up in the same kind of atmosphere, same kind of town, same circumstances.
Diane: Yeah, just so wrong in so many ways. Steven, I want to thank you for all your vulnerability today and for taking us through your story. I have to tell you that when you told me you hadn’t shared your story at the beginning when you were in court and had never really had the opportunity to share it before you sat down with Michelle, and then a second time with us, it feels really good and cathartic to be able to know that you’ve been given a voice and to hear your side of the story. And for you to share everything. Thank you so much.
Steven: It’s been interesting being able to have a voice, and thank you. It’s been an honor to be able to share what’s happened with me and the whole process.
Diane: As we’ve heard today, Steven’s account of the tragedy and his journey through accountability is both sobering and deeply human. His participation in the Victim Offender Dialogue Program with Michelle was a courageous step. A step that brought clarity, not only for Michelle but for Steven as well. This dialogue allowed both of them to confront the pain, understand the tragedy through each other’s eyes, and begin the long and difficult process of healing. It’s a testament to the power of vulnerability, accountability, and the possibility of finding connection, even in the darkest moments. Suppose you or someone you know is interested in participating in a victim-offender dialogue. We encourage you to reach out to your local Department of Corrections. If these services are not currently available in your area, consider advocating for their inclusion through your local representative. Thank you for joining us for this powerful conversation, and remember, even in our darkest moments, healing is possible, and change is within reach. Be kind to yourself.
