Lying About Justice

There are consequences for your behavior.  “We tell our kids that.  Hell, Judges say the same thing when they sentence you (my Judge said “I don’t know which man is before me, the one who did so much good in the community or the one who stole...”).  Why is it then, in the name of “justice” that we tolerate public officials lying about crime, sentences and public safety?  Isn’t it time our elected officials (and those hired to manage public agencies) are held to the same standards they so self-righteously espouse?  This week that issue came to mind as I read about Virginia Governor McDonnell’s decision to close Mecklenburg Corrections Center and Judge Timothy Sanner’s sentencing of former Goochland Treasurer Brenda Grubbs for her guilty plea to embezzling in excess of $200,000.

As a matter of self-disclosure, I was sentenced by Judge Sanner.  As I’ve detailed numerous times in the pages of this blog, I volunteered all information about my case, cooperated fully with the prosecution and pled guilty to six counts (five embezzlement and one forgery of public record).  Shortly before my sentencing hearing began, a young man appeared for his sentencing.  This early twenties male was in jail for a third DUI.  The third arrest involved an accident – his friend was killed.  This young man was entered in an alcohol treatment program at the jail.  The Judge, noting he’d completed twelve of eighteen months of the program gave this young man only the remaining six months to complete the program.

I don’t begrudge a lenient sentence to this young man.  Prison wouldn’t bring back his dead friend, nor is prison the place to address an obvious alcohol problem, but how do you sentence a man who has caused a death to a total of 18 months and turn around and sentence another man to 15 years for embezzling from a profitable company (which, coincidentally, is politically well connected in your jurisdiction)?

Brenda Grubbs was the Treasurer of Goochland County.  Married for 30 plus years to a local farmer, Ms. Grubbs embezzled over $200,000 from county funds while carrying out a romantic, internet liaison with a Nigerian con artist.  Sanner allowed Ms. Grubbs out on bond while her case was pending (a luxury I was not afforded).  Then came sentencing day.  Both her husband (who has stood by her) and minister testified on her behalf.

A request was made to allow her to report after the holidays and begin serving her four year imposed sentence.  The Judge rejected the request.  Why?  Because, Judge Sanner noted “defendant is deeply depressed and in need of mental health services”.  Sending her to prison will not address her mental health issues.  In fact, sending her to prison will hurt her mental health.

If a primary purpose of the criminal justice system is the creation of remorse, then the mere process – in cases such as Ms. Grubbs and mine – is enough to create the desired results.  The problem with pronouncement from the bench such as those made by Judge Sanner is they are completely devoid of truth.  He doesn’t have the guts to say “I want to punish you, ruin your family, make you a financial drain on the state because I can.”  Instead he says some quasi – Solomonese statement about justice.

Here’s a message for Judge Sanner and the others who hand down sentences:  justice does not exist in a vacuum.  Justice always includes mercy.  No Judge should serve on the bench without spending a week in the “corrections” system to understand the “consequences” of their decisions.  And, spare us the moral platitudes from the bench.  If morals and righteous behavior were pre-requisites to serving as a judge, there’d be nothing but vacancies.

And then there is the McDonnell Administration announcing the closing of the prison in Mecklenburg County.  The real reason for the closing – Pennsylvania removing 1,000 inmates from Virginia’s Green Rock Prison and cancelling the $20 million annual lease – was correctly set out in the opening sentence.  But then, McDonnell’s spokespeople veered off into the great sea of subterfuge and misstatement.

Closing Mecklenburg and sending those inmates to Green Rock “will save approximately $10,000 per inmate on an annual basis”; the Governor said (“currently it costs $29,562 per year, per inmate housed at Mecklenburg; that cost will shrink to $19,213 at Green Rock”).  “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”  Virginia’s Department of Corrections holds approximately 39,000 inmates (two-thirds of whom are classified as “low custody”).  DOC’s budget is just north of $1 billion.  That equals a per inmate cost of $25,564 per year.  The old expression “numbers don’t lie, but liars use numbers” seems to have been created by governmental bureaucrats to justify their complete lack of cost efficiency and effectiveness and candor.

Here are the facts:  it costs money, lots of money to operate and maintain a prison.  It is labor intensive.  The reason Green Rock wasn’t being used, the reason James River, Brunswick and Southampton were closed (along with a number of other facilities) was simply due to cost.  On average, it takes $25 million annually to operate a 1,000 bed prison in Virginia.  That the Commonwealth is now – by their own acknowledgement – at 137% of adequate bed capacity in corrections is just further evidence of the failure and lies perpetrated in the name of public safety.

Governor McDonnell stated, “In these difficult times, it is incumbent upon DOC and state government to ensure that public safety continues to be paramount and, while doing so, to be the best stewards of taxpayer’s money.”

Nice words Governor.  Problem is, prisons do not ensure public safety.  And, as I have repeatedly documented in the pages of this blog, DOC spending is a sinking hole.  Money doesn’t go for programs to end recidivism.  Money doesn’t even go to create secure facilities.  Virginia’s prisons are rife with crime, violence, disease, dishonest officers and administrators, and a glaring lack of creative programs and hope.

Governor McDonnell’s closing announcement was nothing but his political attempt to dress up the economic tsunami striking Virginia after years of lies about its public safety and corrections “successes”.

I broke the law.  I was told there were consequences for my actions.  Fair enough.  Its high time Judges and Governors are held to the same standard.

A Passing Thought

My close friend in here, Craig, is having a very difficult weekend.  Earlier today, he broke down, tears rolling down his cheeks.  As I’ve noted before in this blog, men try to not show pain.  It’s viewed as a sign of weakness in this Darwinian nightmare where survival of the fittest takes on new meaning.  That we trust one or two guys who we can open up to is a testament to the human spirit.

Craig learned two days ago that his girlfriend, a woman who has stayed by him throughout the first seven years of his twelve year sentence, has breast cancer.  It is an aggressive form and, though not yet in her lymph glands, requires her to undergo a double mastectomy this week.  Craig feels helpless.  He can’t be there for her.  All he can do is listen on the phone, offer as much love and support as you can when you’re separated by 400 miles and barbed wire fences.  And, he must maintain.  He can’t show weakness; he can’t show emotion.  He has to act like he’s holding it together.  All the while, his mind races, his emotions churn and he feels helpless.

This is a terrible environment, a dehumanizing environment an unjust an unmerciful environment in so many ways.  It is even worse when you are here and those who love you, who need you, are outside.  You are alone with your thoughts and the feelings of helplessness and despair can be insurmountable.

I wish you could see what I see in here.  For the vast majority of those incarcerated are not “bad people”.  They are people who simply made a mistake.  And some mistakes are worse than others.  Yet, in God’s eyes we all fall short.  My eyes have been opened so many times in here as I’ve watched men grieve, love, suffer, battle.  There is humanity behind these walls.  And, just like the real world, there is good and evil doing battle daily.

Humanity.  Justice.  Mercy.  Compassion.  We throw those words around so much yet think so little about what they truly mean, what is required of all of us to live according to those principles.

Craig and Tammy are in my prayers.  I ask that they be in yours as well.  And pray for the prisoners, all of them.  Pray for a better way, for real justice, real mercy, real compassion.

Joseph

So what do I write about Christmas?  Tough subject because Christmas is a time of family, and hope, and wishes fulfilled.  And prison?  Prison’s just the opposite.  It’s solitary and lonely and hope seems to be just beyond your grasp.  Fulfilled wishes?  More like unfulfilled.  Guys treat Christmas as just another day, another knocked off their remaining three, or seven, or ten years left to do.  Christmas in prison.  It’s hard to put into words everything that goes through your mind.  Memories of Christmases past, longings for Christmases in the future.

The country folk singer John Prine has a song, “Christmas in Prison”, that I find myself singing as I run. 

“It was Christmas in prison
And the food was real good
We had turkey and pistols
Carved out of wood
And I dream of her always
Even when I don’t dream
Her name’s on my tongue
And her blood’s in my stream.”

Christmas dreams.  What do I write, what do I put down on paper to explain exactly what I’m feeling as the day approaches?

Someone sent me pages of quotes from my favorite Christmas movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life”.  I love the character George Bailey.  And, like I did when I was out there, I choked up as I read George calling out to his guardian angel,

“Clarence! Clarence! Help me, Clarence.  Get me back.  Get me back.  I don’t care what happens to me.  Only get me back to my wife and kids.  Help me, Clarence, please.  Please!  I want to live again.  I want to live again.  I want to live again…Please, God, let me live again.”

Who can’t relate to George Bailey, at the end of his rope when nothing in his life, when everything in his life, seemed to come into crystal clear focus?  Everything was gone.  Everything was out of his control.  All he had left was that deep felt, primal plea to God “let me live again”. 

Christmas in prison and you’re alone and you’ve lost everything you worked for, everything you lived for.  What do I write?  And then Joseph came to mind.

I’m not talking about Egypt Joseph.  I’m talking about the largely forgotten Joseph.  And yet, without him I’m not sure there’d be “The Christmas Story.”

This guy asks a girl to marry him.  He’s doing alright for himself; he owns a small business, has a trade; he’s got his life planned out.  Only the girl comes to him and says “I’m pregnant”.  That is a major problem.  They hadn’t slept together, so it obviously isn’t his child.  So I imagine that conversation, how disappointed Joseph must have been.  All those plans, all the preparations he made, wasted.

Joseph does something out of character for most people.  He decided to keep things quiet, not embarrass the girl.  She’ll go home and he’ll say “things just didn’t work out”.  And then, he has a dream.  In his sleep an angel visits him and tells him to still get married.  “Don’t worry”, the angel says.  “It’s God’s child.”  The angel even tells Joseph what to name the baby.

Here’s the crazy part, the extraordinary part – Joseph listens.  He decides if God chose him to marry this girl, that was good enough for him.  Ever hear that voice deep in the back of your head, the one that tells you the right thing to do even when conventional wisdom tells you otherwise?  For years I heard that voice and I ignored it.  Then I got arrested and started following those little instructions even though it cost me everything.  And I learned on the outside my life appeared worse, but on the inside I’m stronger and I sleep better.  Funny how that voice works.

Joseph listened to the angel, but that wasn’t the end of the story.  He’s largely forgotten in the New Testament story and yet, without him I wonder if Emmanuel, “God is with us”, would mean the same thing. 

Christmas in prison.  What does it mean?  Sometimes we find ourselves in places we never imagined with dreams lost and we wonder what should we do?  And the voice tells us to “do the right thing”.  Life doesn’t suddenly turn out wonderfully.  In fact, things may get worse.  We have more in common, I think with Joseph than we do with George Bailey.  But like both men discovered, the Christmas message is alive, it’s real.  God is with us, even in prison.

So what do I write about this Christmas?  How about this? It’s a wonderful, blessed time, even in prison because I know the real message of hope exists.  As John Prine sang,

“It’s Christmas in Prison

They’ll be music tonight
I’ll probably get homesick
I love you
Good night.”

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Closing Time

A major DOC announcement hit the airwaves on the noon news today:  “Virginia DOC has announced the closing of its Mecklenburg Prison and Receiving Unit”.  The closing stung another rural Southside Virginia county already weighed down by an unemployment rate above the state average and prospects of real business and industry moving there hovering between slim and none.

Mecklenburg Prison, a facility opened in the late 1970’s with much political fanfare (the then Governor attended its opening) announcing it to be “the most secure prison in America.”  Less than four years later, the notorious Briley brothers – cold blooded rapist/killers from Richmond – and four others executed a daring escape and ran up and down the east coast causing terror and fear each day of their escape.  That escape, from a prison Virginia’s political class sold as being secure, represents the utter failure of the Commonwealth’s corrections’ philosophy.  The end of its dismal life is not as a secure facility for Virginia’s most incorrigible offenders.  No, it is as a dumping ground – a “receiving center”, is emblematic of all that is wrong with Virginia’s bloated, unsustainable corrections apparatus.

I write this blog with some ambivalence.  After all, three hundred Southside Virginia residents arrived at work today and learned – less than two weeks before Christmas – that they will have no jobs.  I feel for those men and women – and their families, even as I wonder how they morally justify working in a place that treats fellow people – many of whom are not a threat to the community – in such vile, degrading ways.

Almost every politician since George Allen (up to our current Governor and members of the Virginia General Assembly) has lied to and betrayed the voters of the Commonwealth.  They’ve told voters they were safer with extraordinary harsh sentencing and abysmal prison conditions.  They’ve told voters the Commonwealth could afford one out of every eight dollars going to corrections – over $1 billion annually – all the while they lined their own pockets and the pockets of selected crony prison enterprises.

They told rural Virginia communities that a prison in their neighborhood would generate jobs and growth.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Prisons do not generate jobs nor do they create or foster an atmosphere for new businesses.  Study after study has concluded prisons have the opposite effect.  Companies don’t move to towns with prisons.

Still, the lies go on.  Where is the courageous politician who will stand up and say “Virginia needs sentence reform?  We have close to 30,000 nonviolent, low custody offenders in prison and we need to let them out.”  Where is the courageous politician who will propose real work training, education and treatment programs for the incarcerated?

Southside Virginia’s prison communities will continue to suffer high unemployment and high dropout and poverty rates until courageous politicians admit we need less incarcerated persons and more money going to rural areas for education and business development. 

My friend DC was one of the initial 19 “incorrigible inmates” who populated Mecklenburg.  That he wasn’t part of the Briley escape was due to his awareness that they’d all eventually be caught.  He saw stabbings, beatings, rapes, and murders during his time there.  At one point he testified on behalf of the inmates during a 1983 prisoner civil rights case before Senior Federal Judge Robert Merhige, Jr. in Richmond.  His recitation of beatings and abuse at the hands of officers so impressed the Judge that he immediately ordered the U.S. Attorney to investigate.  “If you see a corrections officer lay a hand on any prisoner you get word to me”, the Judge told DC from the bench.

Mecklenburg is closing.  There are almost twenty other prisons holding low custody inmates that can also be closed.  All it takes is some honesty and courage from Virginia’s politicians.

In the 1970’s the late, great Johnny Cash performed inside California’s notorious San Quentin Prison.  Cash himself was a convicted felon and did prison time.  He knew the inhumanity of the prison system.  That night, he sang a song he wrote about San Quentin.  The inmates – black, white, Hispanic – erupted in cheers.  He sang “San Quentin, may you rot and burn in hell…”

Everytime the news announces a Virginia prison closing I think of Mr. Cash.  Its closing time for Mecklenburg.  May it rot and burn in hell.

Meals, Mail and More

Do you ever ask yourself “why do six out of ten released offenders land back in prison within three years?”  Sure, some are bad seeds who will continue to do that which landed them in here.  Many, however, should conjure up thoughts in your mind of “there but for the grace of God go I.”  Funny, I used to pooh pooh that expression.  After all, I was “never” one check away from poverty, divorce, prison.  Don’t think God has a sense of humor?  Take one look at me.  I’m a walking comedy routine; I am a platypus.  More about that later.  No, as I wander through this institution I see almost daily how so much of DOC is staffed – in senior positions – by men and women who cause more problems than contribute to solutions.  And, a very real part of the high recidivism rate can be set on their table.  You treat people disrespectfully, you lie to them, you try bizarre social engineering, and you wonder why there isn’t a corrections epiphany.  As “Pogo” said, “we have met the enemy and he is us.”

A week ago our assistant warden announced a change in meal schedules.  For ten years “common fare” participants (i.e. religious diets) have eaten first.  As I’ve documented over the life of this blog, the battle over religious rights – including religious meals – has been fought for years behind the walls.  Numerous Federal court opinions have held that an inmate in prison retains his/her right to practice their faith and if that faith requires certain dietary rules to be observed (i.e. Kosher for Jewish inmates) then those diets must be reasonably accommodated.

Virginia DOC for years fought giving special diet trays.  By fits and starts, DOC relented in the face of dozens of First Amendment suits (how ironic, all the “law and order” types seek to fight application of Constitutional rights to prisoners where the Constitution is the “ultimate” law of the land) and “common fare” was instituted.  Rather than looking at each inmate’s religious practice on a case by case basis (Federal Courts have approved an objective test:  does the inmate present a faith based petition for special diet?), Virginia set up a one size fits all approach.  Attend any approved church/religious service twice a month for six months, then you are eligible for common fare.

Hundreds of guys signed up after joining Messianic Jewish services, Jehovah Witnesses, Rastafarians, Nation of Islam, or traditional Christian or Muslim services.  And that’s where the rub hits.  It costs DOC approximately $1.75 per day to feed the average inmate.  It costs over three time that much to feed common fare.  In an age where state budgets are stretched and still Virginia politicians won’t admit the obvious truth – there are too many people incarcerated for too long – common fare trays cost too much to provide.

Enter the Assistant Warden.  He announces common fare participants will eat last at breakfast and dinner and go at 11:00 am for lunch (before count).  His rationale, told to officers and teachers “I just want to shake things up and see what comes out”.  He wants guys to quit common fare and the effects his “shake up” have on programs are irrelevant if he gets his desired result.

What effects?  Glad you asked.  Factory workers cannot go to the shop to make chairs that are sold at above value prices to state agencies to help pay for DOC (the costs of which are borne by the taxpayers) until after chow call. That’s an hour and a half later than usual, a tremendous loss of productivity (not to mention pay for the guys).

Then there’s school.  Because of the early lunch call, common fare participants in 2^nd period (and aides) leave thirty minutes early.  That’s 2 ½ hours lost each week out of 7 ½ hours of school time per student.  How odd, I thought.  Education is the number one way to break the cycle of recidivism and this administration has taken 1/3 of an inmate’s weekly school time and flushed it.

The same happens at 5^th period school (4:30 to 7:30).  Common fare participants cannot go to school until after chow (5:30).  5^th period classes meet twice a week, so two out of six hours are lost.

Did the Assistant Warden think this out?  I like to think he’s just foolish.  However, my experience in here has taught me guys like the Assistant Warden are dangerous.  Power goes to their heads.  They see the prison as their private fiefdom or lab and they make rash decisions without consulting the people on the front lines, like the teachers.  The fact that their decisions run contrary to the Governor’s re-entry speak apparently doesn’t matter.

Then there’s prison mail.  DOC has a host of rules governing inmate mail.  Letters must weigh less than one ounce; there can be no “contraband” (an ambiguous word, contraband is defined as anything not approved for an inmate).  An especially touchy subject involves photos.  “No nude, semi-nude, lingerie photos allowed.”  So your 80 year old grandparents send you a picture taken of them walking on the beach in bathing suits?  Disallowed.  Yet, inmates can order 5 X 7 photo cards of totally nude women from “pen pal” catalogs.

I don’t disagree with all of DOC’s mail rules.  They’re an inconvenience but heck, we’re in prison.  The problem is the individual decision making is left to the discretion of each prison’s operations officer.  And that is the rub.

The other day Craig was denied a letter (when mail is rejected we receive a form letter notifying us of the “ground” for rejection) based on “lingerie photos”.  Craig’s girlfriend was going to a concert and had a friend snap a photo of her in jeans, cowboy boots, and a red silk top.  Not only was the photo rejected, but a large “X” was written through it and the letter and photo then torn and returned to her.  On the outside of the envelope a DOC ink stamp noted “letter returned…nude photos”.

Craig’s girlfriend was furious.  She called here and spoke to the operations officer who told her the photo was disallowed because “silk blouses are lingerie”.  Want to hear something funny?  The operations officer – a mid-forties African American woman – wears silk blouses almost every day.  The issue hasn’t been dropped.  Craig’s girlfriend contacted an attorney and called the Director’s office.

The problem is each prison interprets this rule.  Subjective decision-making is never good, especially when the subjective basis set out is illogical.  As the same time this battle was playing out the Washington Post was reporting on DOC’s “televisit” set-up in Alexandria allowing Northern Virginia families to visit, via video connection, with their family members in the far Southwest (eight to ten hours from Alexandria).  “A sense of family is critical to an inmate’s successful reintegration into society” a researcher was quoted as saying.

So, why does DOC allow its prison to interfere with communications from family and friends in such arbitrary ways?  Why, if we know that connection to the real world leads to successful reintegration, does DOC tolerate such behavior in their prison administrators?

Again, I fear the answer isn’t ignorance, it’s darker.  Fewer inmates require fewer prisons.  Fewer prisons mean fewer guards, fewer operations directors, fewer wardens.  Prison operations are a $70 billion industry and all that money is from public funds.  I’m not a conspiracy proponent, but when National Review writers such as Jonah Goldberg, in a recent column about California’s corrupt and dysfunctional (and unconstitutional) prison system say the following:  “in a state where more than two-thirds of crime is attributable to recidivism [CA DOC’s officers union) has spent millions of dollars lobbying against rehabilitation programs, favoring instead policies that will grow the inmate population and the ranks of prison guards…”  Kind of makes me think my conspiracy thoughts aren’t too farfetched.

“There but for the grace of God go I.”  I opened this blog using that expression.  Funny thing about grace.  It usually shows up in the most difficult of circumstances.  As I sit here and watch the immovable object – “tough on crime” – come face to face with the economic realities of 9% unemployment, European market melt downs, a political season filled with hollow promises, I realize God has me exactly where I need to be.  Things are becoming clear to me about this states, this nations, failed criminal justice system.  God’s grace, you see, even finds its way into the prisons.

If I Could Vote

If I could vote, I’d be solidly, proudly casting my ballot for either Newt Gingrich or Ron Paul.  I’d even consider Rick Perry and Jon Huntsman.  I know, they’re all Republicans.  That’s not why.  Those four men have all expressed support for prison reform.

Newt Gingrich is a founding member of “Right on Crime” a conservative advocacy group calling for fewer prisons, shorter sentences and lower incarceration rates.  They focus on reducing recidivism through a “cost-effective criminal justice system”.  They seek less imprisonment and strategies that emphasize restitution, work and treatment. 

In a policy statement, Right on Crime set out:  “one way to save money is reduce our reliance on prisons which serve a critical role by incapacitating dangerous offenders and career criminals but are not the solution for every type of offender… [an] unintended consequence of [prison’] is hardening many non-violent low risk offenders and making them worse than when they entered.”

That it is conservative Republicans pushing prison reform while the nation’s first “black” President has done little to nothing to seek such reform is an irony inmates are still coming to grips with.  If for no other reason than my own excessively long sentence, I am hoping for a GOP landslide in 2012.

Visitation Day

Yesterday, I had a great visit.  Matter of fact, for the past three weeks I’ve had wonderful visits:  parents, friends, close relatives.  For those “outside the wire” I’m not sure you can appreciate just how important visits are to an inmate’s well-being. Nancy LaVigne, director of the Justice Policy Center at the Urban Institute, a social and economic policy center said, “the more contact they have with family in prison, the better relationships they have when they’re out…and [they] will be less at risk of committing new crimes.”

Visiting someone in prison is tough. The actual process takes time.  You fill out paperwork, provide identification and undergo a background check (convicted felons are not allowed to visit without prior written permission of the institution’s warden).  Usually, the data-entry officer isn’t the quickest typist so you bring your paperwork and wait in line, sometimes thirty minutes, sometimes an hour.

You are told how you can dress.  Watches and even tissues are prohibited (my mom prides herself on sneaking in a tissue every visit).  Car keys must be locked in a cabinet before entering then, there is the pat down and metal detector scan before the visitor is permitted to exit the main building and enter the prison. Walk past a couple of electronic gates and you enter the “VI” room.

From what I understand from guys who’ve “done the tour” of facilities in the VA DOC system, VI rooms are almost always the same.  There are vending machines with sandwiches, sodas and juices, snacks and hot coffee.  Two or three microwaves are placed on tables around the room.  Each visitor is permitted to bring $20.00 in quarters to the visit to purchase food.  Microwavable sandwich may not sound too appetizing? Try eating the poor quality, bland diet inmates are fed and you soon realize a hamburger from vending is like a rib-eye from Morton’s.  Yes, food is a big deal at visitation.

The entire time you’re with “your people” you’re under the “eye in the sky” and the six to eight officers walking the room.  You huddle your plastic chairs and small plastic table in tight to let your knee touch your wife or girlfriend (physical contact, other than your initial greeting and goodbye is prohibited.  Hard to believe then that couples still find a way to “connect”).  You crave contact when you’re in here and sometimes just the simple act of a hug, holding a hand, can keep a man focused for weeks.

Mid-morning and the whistle blows.  “Count Time”.  You leave your table and go with the 80 to 100 other inmates and line up under your building number while officers with clip boards check your name off the pass list.  Out-count it’s called.  You are being counted outside your building.  Five, ten minutes pass and the whistle blows again.  You return to your table and try and regain a sense of normalcy with your family or friends.

You want to be part of their lives, but their days aren’t your days.  Do you care they went out to dinner last night or have tickets to a play?  You are still part of their life, yet the visit reminds you how little you know what’s going on in their world, how little they know of yours.

For all the talk about DOC wanting inmates to stay connected to family and community, actions speak louder than words.  The current administration has created a chilling effect on visits.  “Special visits” – family or friends from more than 100 miles away – are routinely denied extra time and double visits on weekends (inmates are allowed only one visit per weekend; those coming for special visits in the past were usually given both days).  The number of tables available in the VI room and gym (for spill over) has decreased by one-third.  Inmates are now having visits terminated after three hours even when the room isn’t full.

Connection to family and friends is crucial to an inmate’s rehabilitation and re-entry, yet Virginia DOC continues to allow its wardens and assistant wardens to implement policies contrary to that best evidence.  Why?  Does DOC know successful re-entry will lead to less incarcerated and less need for prisons?

So, the visit ends.  Guys hug their kids tightly, kiss their wives or girlfriends, say goodbye to family friends and head out.  It’s called “bein’ drunk”, that look everyone knows in the building when you come back and stare, that far away look, as your mind replays the visit.  Most guys lie down, headphones on, and go to another place, a place where visits aren’t once a week, or month.

In the Gospel of Matthew the Lord spoke these words about a righteous person.   “Naked, you clothed Me; I was sick, you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.”  And the righteous person asked “Lord, when did I see You sick or in prison and come to You?”  Jesus answered, “to the extent you did it to one of the brothers of mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.”

Visits matter, probably more than the visitors will ever know.  And to my parents, my friends, my cousin and her husband who regularly go through the process to see me, thank you doesn’t say it enough.  I love and appreciate you guys.