48 Hours

This is a very difficult blog to write. One of the toughest. The past forty-eight hours here have been as difficult a two-day cycle that I’ve faced since my early months in jail five plus years ago.

Shortly after lunch on Thursday officers swooped in to our building and locked up two college aides: Craig and Saleem. Craig, a former high school teacher and football coach who pushed me into becoming an aide in the college program, is like a brother to me. Given what has happened, I doubt I will see Craig again.

Saleem, a/k/a “big Bama,” is leader of the Sunni community here and respected compound wide. Thirty-six years locked up and he finally could see light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, he and Craig are under investigation and being held in solitary confinement.

“Under investigation.” It’s tough to explain it to folks outside, folks living normal lives and believing that you have rights and the police don’t arbitrarily throw you in solitary to coerce an admission, but that’s what being “under investigation” means. Some of you will say, “You deserve it; you’re in prison.” Fair point. But consider these words, uttered by a Gitmo inmate held eleven years without charge: “If you’re sacred Constitution doesn’t matter in here, why do you think it can help you out there?”

DOC can swoop in and throw you in solitary under the guise that you are “under investigation.” They can hold you for fifteen days, then give you a brief hearing telling you you’re still under investigation. Every fifteen days the same thing for months on end, no charge being brought, no information on the investigation. I’ve lived under that for the past 48 hours all because I work as a college aide and Craig and Saleem screwed up.

For the past year Craig has been borrowing CDs from anyone he knew and loading them on the college computer network. I knew he was doing it, everyone did. I even asked him on more than one occasion if that was permitted. And every time, Craig told me it was ok. “I’m not doing anything wrong; I just like music.”

Fair enough. But, I didn’t know he had amassed a music library exceeding 12,000 songs. I didn’t know he was loading those songs on inmate worker computers all over the compound. I didn’t know he was burning CDs. And then there’s Saleem. Porn movies – no one knew … that is until Thursday morning when their network access was revoked (they were the only two college aides with network access) and every bit of computer equipment they use was confiscated.

There were CDs already burned, a thumb drive, and gigs of songs and videos. And the prison authorities erupted. Our college building was locked down and everyone searched for bootleg CDs. A third aide – “Access Mike,” our database guru – was hauled off to jail. All that remains of the college aides as I write this Saturday morning are me, my buddy DC, CED, and Bob (and Bob leaves December 26^th).

Every time the door opens and an officer walks in, I clench up. See, I don’t deserve this. As opposed to the day I was arrested back in August of ’08, when I was embezzling, I try and live cleanly in here. I’m pissed off at Craig because he’s jeopardized everything we’ve worked for these past four years. The college program is under a cloud now and its survival will depend in large part on DC and me working our butts off.

Craig and I had a bond. We both had known success prior to our fall. We both have aging parents, mothers who can’t help but cry with each visit. And, we sit there and remind ourselves we have to do the right thing, get through this, and go on with our lives.

Craig knows the heartbreak I feel over my divorce and alienation from my sons. He knows I’d do anything to make that up. And he feels the same way; he carries a similar cross. But now his release date is gone; he won’t leave January 2^nd, 2017. The best he can hope for is a drop in his good time and maybe another six months added to his release date.

But Craig’s lost more than just good time. He’s lost his job. He can’t work for the school anymore. He’ll be transferred from here to another facility, maybe a higher level. There’s also the chance “street charges” (i.e. criminal prosecution) could occur. I can’t imagine him having to make that call home, not to parents who have stood by you since 2005.

You know what’s been the worst for me? I decided yesterday – when all hell was breaking loose in here – to call my cousin and give her a heads up that I “may” end up in the hole. My buddy Omar (my Spanish tutor) had already told me his sister would let my cousin know what happened. Here’s the rub: I started the conversation with, “I’m not involved. I didn’t do anything wrong.” And I explained how in here things take on a life of their own. I had to tell her that because my cousin and her husband have been there for me since my arrest. It’s one of those things I live with, not wanting to let down the people who have stood by me in this.

As I finish this blog we are now 48 hours past Craig and Saleem getting locked up. I’m still here and things are returning to normal – whatever normal is in here. It’s been a terrible 48 hours, even by prison standards. All I can do is keep doing what I always do and try and be the best man in here I can be. Sometimes, that isn’t enough. This time – hopefully – it is.