Two Ways to Head Out

Two guys left the other day.  One – Randy, our trainer/fitness guru, walked out the front gate after finishing his twelve year bid for cocaine distribution.  He left with an Associate’s Degree in general education and only six credit hours short of his BA in physical education.  He’s a nationally certified personal trainer and already secured employment in the Richmond area with a medical practice’s rehab/health and wellness facility.

In spite of his incarceration, Randy will be fine.  It hasn’t been easy.  His father passed away four months ago.  His older daughter graduated UCLA two years ago without him there to see it.  There were times during his bid when Randy was called to the watch commander’s office and questioned about his workout program.

“Why are twenty guys doin’ lunges in unison?”  They’d ask.  DOC prohibits groups of more than four from gathering – unless its church; then you need five.  Still, Randy honed his skills.  He helped me.  He expanded my workouts from just runs to sprints and stretching, push-ups, pull ups and dips.  I never thought – back before my arrest – that I could knock out 300 or 400 pushups in a series of reps.  Now, its old hat.

Did prison make Randy a better man?  I don’t think so.  In spite of what politicians try and tell you, nothing good goes on in prison.  Change that.  Good does happen inside these walls in spite of the prison environment.
No, Randy just became who he really was deep down.  I read a great deal about faith.  One thing that shows up over and over is the idea that we all face difficulties, we all suffer, we all go through trials.  Our true character is revealed in those struggles.  Do we love and forgive or abandon and conveniently “move on”?  Do we show kindness in the face of anger and hostility or do we lash out?  Do we give up our dreams in the face of despair or do we fight for our future?

No, Randy’s real character was forged in this hell hole, not because of his prison experience, but in spite of it.

Another man left out of here the same day Randy did.  He didn’t go out the front gate to family or friends embracing him.  He went out through the rear gate, the “sally port”, in the back of an ambulance, in a body bag.  He died of a massive heart attack, in the building (6B) at age 50.  The worst part is, it could have been avoided.

The guy, a kitchen worker, complained of radiating pain in his arm and chest as well as shortness of breath.  The “rent-a-doc” on duty told him he was suffering from indigestion and sent him back to his building.  He collapsed, massive coronary.  Nurses came only they didn’t bring the defibrillator – no one mentioned it was a heart attack.
Would it have mattered?  Who knows, but life is cheapened in here.  For all the moral speech about rehabilitation and treatment politicians and DOC administrators spout, the fact is you go to prison and the vast majority of people don’t give a damn.  What’s another dead convict anyway?

Randy made it, in spite of the lousy facilities, poor food and medical care and general deplorable conditions.  Randy’s going home to a new life.  So’s the other guy, just not in the way he expected.