Melissa Etheridge and women imprisoned in Topeka inspired each other in album and film

For nine long years, Leigh Argersinger has been locked behind fences topped with razor wire at Topeka Correctional Facility, the women's prison for the state of Kansas.

She has often felt alone and forgotten.

But the 36-year-old woman said those feelings have been soothed considerably through an unexpected bond with rock star and fellow Leavenworth native Melissa Etheridge, who reached out to TCF to connect with some residents.

In a series of events Argersinger described as surreal, she and four other women were picked to write letters to Etheridge, who met with them twice, wrote a song inspired by their stories and sang it last year in concert at TCF.

Etheridge in July will release a live album recorded at the TCF performance.

Also, Paramount+ will soon begin airing a documentary featuring Etheridge and the women while telling what promotional materials call "an inspiring story of healing and transcendence through the power of music."

Argersinger's key takeaway, she told The Capital-Journal, is the uplifting way Etheridge made the women feel.

"It's really nice and comforting to know that we're not alone," she said. "We're not forgotten."

Some of rock star's first shows were at Leavenworth prisons

Prison walls were a common sight during her childhood for Etheridge, 63.

"There were five different prisons around Leavenworth at the time," she told The Capital-Journal.

Etheridge's family lived near Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary.

"You could see it right from my backyard," she said.

Singer Johnny Cash gave a concert in May 1970 at that prison, performing outdoors in the exercise yard after being preceded onstage by Carl Perkins, the Statler Brothers and the Carter Family.

Cash between 1968 and 1976 released four live albums recorded during concerts in prisons at Folsom and San Quentin in California; Nashville, Tennessee; and Österåker, Sweden.

When Etheridge learned as a girl that Cash had played at Leavenworth penitentiary, she said she thought prison must be "a place of fine entertainment or something."

Etheridge began taking guitar lessons when she was 8. She was 11 or 12 when she started performing in variety shows at area prisons.

"The audiences were so receptive, so appreciative and excited," she said. "It really got to me."

Melissa Etheridge on hit songs, Grammy awards and Tammy Wynette

Etheridge left Kansas at 21 for California, where she achieved fortune and fame as a singer and songwriter known for her emotional lyrics and spirited performances.

She won Grammy awards in 1993 and 1995, put six singles on Billboard Magazine’s American Top 40 between 1994 and 2005, and paved the way for other lesbian rock stars after she came out in January 1993.

As Etheridge has aged, her music has continued to sell. She had six albums between 2007 and 2019 in the top 15 on Billboard's "Top Rock Albums" charts.

All the while, Etheridge hoped to once again perform in a prison. She said she and country star Tammy Wynette talked about teaming up to do that before Wynette died at 55 in 1998.

The idea of playing in a prison came up again about a decade ago, Etheridge said, after she changed management and was asked what dreams she had yet to accomplish.

Leavenworth proud of native daughter Melissa Etheridge

TCF prisoner Argersinger was 6 when Etheridge in October 1993 released her fourth studio album, "Yes, I Am," which vaulted her from being successful to being a star.

The album, featuring the hit singles "I'm the Only One" and "Come to My Window," sold more than 4 million copies.

In the years that followed, Argersinger recalls the strong sense of pride Leavenworth residents felt about Etheridge.

"In the schools I went to, they talked about her a lot," she said.

“Home of Melissa Etheridge” says a guitar-shaped sign motorists pass by as they enter the city.

Argersinger was pleased to be among those picked to write to Etheridge.

That opportunity came about after Etheridge's manager, Deb Klein, in December 2020 contacted TCF's facility services administrator, Holly Chavez.

Etheridge's son, Beckett Cypheridge, had died of an overdose at 21 the previous May after battling an opioid addiction, and Etheridge was seeking to understand and interrupt the cycle of addiction.

Etheridge hoped to “come full circle” from her past experiences at prisons by connecting with some TCF residents, performing there and appearing in a documentary, Chavez was told.

Etheridge stressed that the women picked to write to her needed to be willing to tell their stories on camera and that the experience might be invasive.

Leigh Argersinger on addiction: 'It darkens your whole existence'

The five women chosen to write to Etheridge have all demonstrated a willingness to learn and grow, Chavez said.

Those five — Argersinger, Kristi Baxter, Andrea Dunlap, Jessica Knoll and Cierra Pauler — range in age from 35 to 53.

They received no monetary compensation, Chavez said. All are minimum-security inmates who will become eligible for release between October 2024 and September 2027.

Four of the women were convicted of drug crimes and the other for involuntary manslaughter while DUI.

The trailer for the documentary shows the women talking about their addictions.

"It destroys you," said Knoll.

"You become your addiction," said Baxter.

"It darkens your whole existence," said Argersinger.

'Dear Melissa': Women from Topeka prison write to rock star

TCF provided the women a letter from Etheridge asking them to write letters to her telling their stories, Chavez said.

The women wrote varying numbers of letters, with each sending at least two or three, she said.

"Dear Melissa," began a neatly printed, handwritten letter from Knoll, which is among images featured in the film’s trailer.

"Hello my name is Jessica," it said. "I am 33 years old. I was born in Herington. I now live in Emporia. Well that's where I was before being incarcerated at TCF."

In her letter to Etheridge, Knoll, now 35, “just put everything out on the table,” she said.

"I told her about my addiction, my life, my past, my history, what I've been through, what I'm going through," Knoll said.

The other women said they also shared candid accounts of their experiences. Writing to Etheridge was therapeutic, they said.

The five women met twice with Etheridge in a library at TCF, where they bonded while sitting around a table.

Knoll said she was surprised by how "normal" Etheridge turned out to be.

“She’s super down-to-earth, and just loving and caring and understanding,” Dunlap said.

Baxter said she came to feel a kinship with Etheridge, a cancer survivor who has experienced considerable emotional trauma despite her money and fame.

"She is a great person," Baxter said. "She made me so comfortable. You could tell she cared."

Etheridge said she learned many of the women at TCF keep making the same mistakes over and over.

”The best I can do is be a light that holds these people up and says, ‘You matter,’” she said.

Concert setlist included song about death of Melissa Etheridge's son

Loneliness and pain were among emotions Etheridge sang about during the concert she performed on May 28, 2023, at TCF, she said.

While Etheridge played some of her hits, she said her setlist also included lesser-known songs from deep in her catalog that mean a lot to her. Etheridge said she hoped those songs would move members of her audience.

"They are about loneliness," she said. "They are about mistakes. They are about my son and his addiction and his death."

The song about Cypheridge, "The Shadow of a Black Crow," was subsequently released for streaming in April and is part of Etheridge’s upcoming album.

Cypheridge was 17 when he became addicted to opiates after breaking his ankle in 2016, Etheridge told The Capital-Journal in 2022.

He fought the addiction for four years, eventually becoming a user of fentanyl, which is far more powerful than morphine, she said.

About 600 people watched Etheridge's May 28, 2023, concert at TCF

Her concert at TCF was magical, Etheridge said.

That morning, TCF residents who saw the concert equipment being put up outdoors in the yard in front of their dormitories were somewhat anxious and uncertain "because it was different and unknown," Chavez said.

"But as the day went on and they saw that it was a real concert with a stage and lighting, the mood lightened and the women started to get excited," she said. "By the time the concert got here, they were so excited, and the joy was palpable."

Etheridge wore a black cowboy hat as she and her band kicked off the concert about 6 p.m. She played for two hours.

Etheridge was thrilled to see "so many women — who have not had a lot of joy for years — feeling music, just releasing themselves," she told The Capital-Journal. "Some of them had not been to a concert in years and decades."

About 500 women watched from the yard or from porches next to their dorms, with about 100 other staff members and guests also attending, Chavez said.

TCF live-streamed the concert to prisoners in its maximum-security unit, who weren't allowed to attend, she said.

On her upcoming album recorded at the concert, Etheridge can be heard sharing messages of empathy and hope between songs.

Etheridge encouraged those present to love themselves, let go of their animosities and resentments, and move on from any bad decisions they may have made.

She told the women that even though their family members may not admit it, they "are glad that you're here and not dead.”

Etheridge said she "would really love it" if her son were in prison instead of being deceased.

'I'm a Burning Woman' inspired by Topeka Correctional Facility women

Argersinger, Baxter, Dunlap, Knoll and Pauler watched the concert from the front of the audience.

They also gave a birthday card that day to Etheridge, who would turn 62 the next day.

Etheridge during the concert performed "I'm a Burning Woman," a song she'd written that was inspired by the letters she had received from the five women.

They said Etheridge did a great job in the song summing up the various things they had said.

Near the song's beginning, its lyrics say, “I've had a whole lot of time, thought about it every day."

Those lyrics acknowledge, "I might have (expletive) things up.”

But they also share a sense of empowerment, declaring, "I'm not broken," "I am worth it" and "I can break the chain."

The song communicates a message of hope, Etheridge said, adding, "I wanted to give them something to make them put their fist in the air and sing and go: 'That's right. I'm not broken. I can do this. There's not something terribly wrong with me.’”

Here's more about Melissa Etheridge's album and documentary

"I'm Not Broken (Live From Topeka Correctional Facility)" is the title of the 12-song album recorded at Etheridge’s TCF concert, which will be released for streaming July 9. Physical copies will be available July 12 for $34.98 each.

Paramount+ on July 9 will begin airing "Melissa Etheridge: I'm Not Broken,” a two-part documentary lasting a total of about two hours.

“I’m excited for audiences to join me on this powerful journey and hear these remarkable stories filled with pain and struggle but also hope and healing,” Etheridge said in a news release. “I hope that this docuseries shows viewers the challenges that women face in our prison system while also serving as a resource to those who currently are struggling."

The film discusses prison reform, including whether correctional facilities should focus less on punishment and more on rehabilitation, including helping prisoners cope with trauma and addiction, Etheridge said.

The trailer for the film says 172,000 women are imprisoned in the U.S., and roughly half of those are recovering from substance abuse.

Etheridge said another common theme she heard at TCF was that people who have experienced trauma are more likely to inflict it.

“Hurt people hurt people,” she said.

Melissa Etheridge: 5 women who shared stories were 'very courageous'

The five TCF women said they’ve seen the film and like it.

“It was very inspirational,” Pauler said.

Argersinger said she appreciated that rather than focusing on the women as "prisoners," the film depicted them as "people, and we just happened to be in prison."

Baxter said she initially hadn't wanted the film to be shown at TCF because she allowed herself to be vulnerable on camera and wasn’t comfortable with everyone else seeing that.

But when Baxter saw the film, she was happy with the way she was portrayed, she said.

Etheridge said she was thankful that the women opened up as much as they did.

"I have a deep belief that vulnerability is the highest form of courage, that it takes a lot of courage to be vulnerable," she said, " and they were very courageous.”

Contact Tim Hrenchir at [email protected] or 785-213-5934.