Great Calculator Caper

Nothing is worse in a prison dorm than stealing. 96 guys are living in close proximity to each other. Metal lockers are easy to “peel back”; combination locks can be pried open. You have to trust who you’re living with. It’s ironic that trust is so important to inmates given that so many of us are locked up for breaches of trust and snitches run rampant. Yet, a thief in the dorm stirs more hostility than shakedowns or bad medical care. A thief in the dorm destroys everyone’s comfort.



Guys have been moving in and out for weeks as the college dorm takes shape. Everyone is suspicious of the “new guys” coming in. The building I moved from never had any stealing. The building I moved to was the same way. So, imagine my surprise when I came back from work the other day and E announced “some a—hole got my calculator.”


It was the night before commissary day and E was putting his order together. He finished the form and calculated the cost. Then, he set the calculator beside his TV. The next morning he went to work. When he came back he looked at his TV and discovered the calculator was missing.


We looked everywhere around his cut. We went through his book shelf and under his mattress. The calculator was nowhere to be found.


We start looking at “the new guys”. There were a couple of young gang members – “bloods” – who had moved in. Fairly nice guys, polite by prison standards. But, they were new and they belonged to a gang so chances are they were responsible.


Rumors started flying through the building. “Bed 19 heard a guy in the rec yard tryin to sell a calculator.” “Bed 40 is missin $70 worth of stamps from the parlay.” Bed 22 had a state shirt stolen”


I tried to keep my perspective. Perhaps, I wondered, E just misplaced it or let someone use it.


“No f—in way! It was on my bed.”


Every guy we didn’t know became a suspect. Locks were checked and rechecked. Suspicions were running rampant.


That evening I returned from work. E had a big, goofy grin on his face.


“I found it, but it’s not my fault.” He explained he had given a friend of ours – Biades – a few CDs to check out. He had the CDs on his bunk while he was folding t-shirts. He “accidently” folded the calculator in a t-shirt.


All I could say is “dumbass!”


There are no thieves in our building. In fact, the guys preparing for the college program are enthusiastic and, well, decent.


I learned something. You can’t jump to conclusions in here. Things aren’t always what they appear to be. Too often I would react, take a position and run with it. “I’ve got to do something” I’d think. I’d act impulsively, blindly weighing pros and cons without having all the facts.


Patience matters. Being thoughtful, not reactive, getting all the facts and carefully weighing options beats going out hell-bent.


It’s a lesson I should have learned years ago. It might have kept me out of here. It’s a lesson I apply each day as I struggle with my incarceration, my divorce and my sadness over my separation from my sons. Patience matters; it’s crucial. Faith, hope and endurance are built on patience.


E learned a lesson also. Check your clothes thoroughly before accusing someone of stealing your calculator!