But, things happen each day that I jot down and think “I
want to remember that”. These little
snippets form most of my daily journal entries as I continue trying to
understand why we do what we do. In
reality, it’s more material than I can ever use. Still, things stand out...
We never had a spring lockdown. I know that sounds weird. We usually have two per year. They lock us down (restrict us from leaving the
building) and building by building search everything, including us (you get
used to strip searches after your first thirty days, that is if you every
really get used to standing fully exposed before two or three officers). They very seldom find anything of
significance. And why would they? They can’t swoop in and hit every building,
every inmate at once, so stuff gets tossed and hidden.
Instead of a general lockdown they now spot check us. Two or three guys every day, make sure you
really own the electronics listed. And,
they find stuff. In my building four
guys lost TVs (bought from other inmates).
There were knives, a little tobacco, and of course, fresh vegetables and
fruit from the kitchen. I’ve been through
it and, living like a monk (my only “living on the edge item”, and extra set of
sheets), five minutes flat I was cleared.
Prison is a constant battle between what you can have versus
what they want you to have versus what you can get. The simple truth is you can get anything
inside. Another truth is if you get
caught, you lose good time. And, a final
truth, you’re better off without all the extras.
Some day they’ll lock us down
for a full sweep. But right now, it’s
business as usual.
I got a new mattress the other day and it’s
extraordinary. For close to three years I’ve
slept on a standard prison issued mattress. Barely three inches thick and lumpy until the
stuffing begins to breakdown. But the
other day, Mouse went home. After ten
straight years, Mouse walked out a free man.
He has already been admitted to school down at the beach, with financial
aid, and Goodwill lined him up a job cooking at a beach restaurant.
Mouse had a Cadillac mattress,
triple-stuffed and re-sewn (that’s the key; if it’s sewn its legit). I spent a lot of time the past two years
working with Mouse on his college classes. He left as an honors grad. The night before he left he gave me his
mattress, close to seven inches thick! I
don’t feel the metal frame anymore. What
a way to sleep!
Randy – our fitness guru – wrote the other day. He’s been home since January. As I’ve written before, Randy earned his
Associates Degree while locked up and became a certified personal trainer. His last year here he put a business plan
together to start a personal training business.
Randy joined a gym in the west end of Richmond and began
signing up clients to train. His goal
was to gradually build his client base over eighteen months, then open a
studio.
I’m pleased to report that on July 1st, Randy
will have his own gym. His business is
booming with more clients than he ever imagined.
Randy is one of the success
stories from prison. They’re few and far
between it seems at times, but it is possible.
Prison can be transformational if you are willing to struggle and
dedicate yourself to learning in spite of the circumstances.
I want to tell you about Dom, a/k/a “Fat Boy”. He’s from Petersburg and has experienced the difficulties
of life beyond his thirty-four years.
Given up at only eighteen months old by an alcoholic mother (his father
was in and out of prison his whole life), he went from foster home to foster
home. Finally, at age six his grandmother
was given custody.
His mom fought in court to get him back (“She wanted the
state check”). The courts returned him
to his mom where he was routinely beaten by her (“I looked like my Dad; she
just did to me what he did to her”). He’s
a large man – 250, 260 maybe, and 6’2” tall.
He was known by everyone in the projects of Petersburg. He was the muscle for all the dope
dealers. You needed someone hurt, you
called Dom (“It was the only time my Dad told me he was proud of me. ‘They fear you son,’ he’d say.”).
That is not the Dom I know.
I see a gentle man who spends a great deal of his time counseling young “brothers”
to give up violence. The other night we
were talking and he told me about an incident that still weighed on his mind.
“It was with a dope
fiend. He owed a guy money. I saw him go through an alley and I followed
him. I had a baseball bat. I caught him and beat him. You never heard a bat hit bone did you
Larry? It’s a sound different from a
ball. It’s hollow. Anyway, I did that when I was 19. The guy was in the hospital for months;
fractured skull, broken bones. I didn’t
even know his name. I still see him at
night.”
I’ve learned to take stories like this in stride as best I can. I’ve learned not to react with revulsion – or
judgment. And, as Dom looked at me I saw
the pain he felt for the things he’s done.
I realized at that moment how fragile our lives are. We hurt people in so many ways. We break their bones, their hearts, their
dreams. Somehow, God still loves us.
And I knew I’d done a lot of
lousy, hurtful things in my own life. I’d
let down the people closest to me. But, I
knew in my heart that God forgave me and was giving me another chance. And if God could forgive me, He could
certainly forgive Dom.
It was reported this week that a number of inmates at
Virginia’s Red Onion super max prison were on a hunger strike to protest the
conditions at that facility. Red Onion
has been the subject of much negative press the last few months. Approximately 400 inmates are kept in
isolation at Red Onion; there are 1700 in solitary statewide in the Virginia
system.
As I’ve quoted on a number of occasions in this blog,
Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky said you can judge a society by the way it
treats its prisoners.
America has lost its moral imperative. This nation operates both at the Federal and
individual state levels a barbaric prison system that lacks safety,
rehabilitation and simple humane treatment.
This country spends approximately $70 billion each year to
incarcerate and monitor close to 10 million citizens. Approximately 25,000 prisoners are held in
solitary confinement nationwide. Thousands
more work in prison industries for little – if any- pay and in unsafe
conditions. Even the 13th
Amendment to the United States Constitution which disallowed slavery in America
still allows the incarcerated to be used as slave labor.
Violence, mental illness, disease and hopelessness are rampant
in America’s prisons. A prison –
industrial complex has sprung up with corporations being granted sweetheart
deals to provide products and services to predominantly poor, uneducated
inmates at exorbitant pricing. Fraud and
price gouging is rampant.
Perhaps things are changing.
No less than conservative Christian leader Pat Robertson has now joined
the chorus demanding a massive overhaul of “Incarceration Nation”.
Can America do better?
What are followers of Christ called to do regarding law breakers and
their confinement? Is the answer
punishment or justice?
As Medal of Freedom recipient
Bob Dylan once sang, “The answer is blowin in the wind.”
And a final thought.
A friend recently sent me a quote from a well-known minister.
“The blessings of God always override the curses generated
in our lives.”
As I’ve pondered those words I realized that isn’t a bad way
to get through this sentence.
Peace.
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