Grace - June 21, 2010

This has been an interesting week. I had originally planned on writing about the two gay inmates in another building who had a “lover’s quarrel” and ended up stabbing each other. By the next day both guys were on their way to different high custody facilities. Ah, spring romance.



I thought about the inmate busted a week ago “suitcasing” tobacco in from visitation. I’ll leave it to the reader’s imagination which orifice constitutes the “suitcase”.


Instead, I’ll write about grace, that feeling you get when you realize all that toxic crap that wore you down is lifted. I’m talking about finding your soul, knowing God does love you, forgives you, and even in a dump like this, blesses you. You find that and you view the people around you differently. You see beyond their weaknesses, their faults. You forgive.


I teach a creative writing class for the inmates. This past week two of the guys submitted stories that floored me. The first, by “DC”, spoke about his older brother being drafted by the Phillies one week, the Marines the next. It was 1968 and within 6 months his brother would return from Vietnam in a coffin. His family never recovered. Fast forward to 1971. This then young DC, with a chance at making the Olympic Boxing Team, kills a man. He has been incarcerated ever since. Since coming to the penitentiary, he’s become a pacifist (he practices Hindu meditation) and a Vegan. His wife has stayed by his side these past 38 years. His 2 children, now fully grown, have children of their own.


They all visit him, this extended family, and they patiently wait for his release. I call him a friend. I see the man before me and ask God to show this man justice, mercy. I ask any reading this to consider the basic Christian premise “he who is free of sin cast the first stone”. 38 years is long enough.


Then there is “Black”, a bright funny inmate incarcerated since 1987. His crime? Armed robbery. He wrote a story in the third person about a bright 5 year old boy. He was learning to tie his shoes. His single mom couldn’t be bothered teaching him so she enlisted her boyfriend. The little boy tried and tried until . . . BAM! He awoke in the emergency room with his grandparents, a broken orbital bone and fractured jaw.


He has learned Spanish and French since being convicted. He is an honorable man who discovered his honor after coming to grips with the hell that was his life. How many of us could endure what this man endured as a child.


I have led such a blessed life, even in here. I am fortunate to have developed meaningful friendships with a number of men in here, in particular E and Big S. They listen, they offer compassion and occasionally when needed, a good kick in the psychological ass.


I’ve realized how fragile our lives our. It is true “there but for the grace of God go I”. So many men I’ve met along the way in here have suffered so much in their lives. So many have not overcome. Yet, there are the DC’s and Black’s who each day find strength and peace, and meaning, and hope in this circumstance.


My wife of 28 years divorced me. I haven’t heard from her in 8 months. My 22 year old son has neither spoken nor written me since my arrest in August 2008. I haven’t heard from my youngest son since Christmas that same year.


Rather than feeling angry, depressed, fearful over these circumstances, I have found a sense of peace. It took some time, but I felt a calmness overtake me. The longings for love I so desired from my wife that, in some part, contributed to my actions are understood now. I can look myself in the mirror and remember the decent man I am.


I feel forgiven, by God and myself. And, feeling that way I’ve grown more accepting of people’s shortcomings. I can accept my ex’s failures and weaknesses in our relationship. I forgive her for what she’s done since my arrest.


People are not the sum of their actions. They all come with stories, with histories. We would all be better served by being a little more merciful and a little less judgmental.