A View from
The HOLE
by M. Larry Thornton
#207406
©2012 Larry Thornton All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 978-1-4657-3678-9
Published by M. Larry Thornton at Smashwords
Dedication and Thanks
This book is dedicated to the thousands of people in this country who are unjustly incarcerated or imprisoned due to the imperfect, uncaring and often corrupt Judicial Systems.
For years I was “owned” by the State. I lived with many other “Political Prisoners”. “I was “Guilty!” as soon as I was charged”. Evidence was created to achieve a conviction. Upstanding community leaders of law and justice were the perpetrators - (“bottom-feeders” soon caught with their fingers in REAL crime).
To my “room-mates,” “bunkies,” “cell-mates” and fellow “Hole-Dwellers” I thank you for the lessons you shared with and taught me. Thanks to those in the F.B.I. who knew the “facts” and eventually used them to catch the “perps” - and to assist in my eventual release.
I am also grateful to you, my “heroes”, in and outside the fences, who believed in my innate dignity as a valuable human being. As with my Mom and Dad, you taught me how to live fully, though incarcerated, and to dream BIG - pursuing my college education behind bars. I achieved the full recognition of my own God- given talents and self-worth. The mentors also taught me that those who practice deceit and deception receive their just rewards - now and forever, Amen (“so it is!”).
The most thanks goes to my “babies” - God’s love flowing through my heart to your heart strengthens and sustains me!
You are the reason I live...
Love, Dad
THE HOLE - INTRODUCTION
There are five things that you can be sure of in prison - Commissary, Chow Hall, Bad and Good People, The Fence and The Hole .
COMMISSARY - the contact with things and "stuff" from the outside world. The $20 you make a month in prison is spent there. What you buy is then bartered, traded, used to pay debts, stolen or you are killed over.
CHOW HALL - Food is the closest thing to regular sensuous experiences in your years behind the razor fences. In there things are orderly - or else!
"BAD and GOOD PEOPLE" - Not everyone is your friend in prison (though some become best friends ever). Bad people on the outside are often worse people inside the fence. Good people sometimes better.
THE FENCE- Wire is your barrier to the outside world and it develops into your "Matterhorn". Life becomes meaningful by imagining ways to be on the other side of the wire. This barrier is designed to snatch you - then slash you to pieces.
THE HOLE - You can depend upon The Hole. You are safe, alone, given a book a week - and if blessed, can see green or brown or white - depending on the season - through a small window. The rules are simple and you are not subject to the capriciousness of your prison parents and police.
You often learn to value your experiences in “THE HOLE”.
Table Of Contents
“To Convict” - “to convince - to prove a person guilty” (guilty or not)
“A Convict” - “a person serving a sentence of confinement” (guilty or not)
“To Convince” - “to persuade by argument” (guilty or not)
I loved my wife very much!
I loved my children even more!
I would do anything to protect
my children..
So - I did!
December 2, Year One
I am looking out the window at the winter’s beauty and reflecting on the strength given to me this year. I have begun to learn to accept the things I have not been able to change, (and to change the things I can) It has been the hardest year of my life - so far! I feel as if I have lost everything important to me - and not much given in return.
This Journal is the TRUE account of this year (and the next six years after). I have changed the names (for obvious reasons). Most places are VERY real!
I am looking at nature’s wonders through vertical bars on the 3rd floor of the Summit County jail, my seventh month. For the next year (and years following) I am viewing God’s Creations through prison bars - and in the Hole.
I did what I felt was “Just and Necessary”. That brought me into conflict with the “letter of the law” (interpreted by selfish and twisted “men of the law”) They decided that the trespass was not understandable. They forced me here.
My “crime” was an attempt to rescue and protect my children. My stubbornness to insist on doing what I thought was “right and just” was manipulated into appearing “belligerent and bad”.
Retrospect: Was I over-enthusiastic? You judge for yourself. I am slowly seeing the co-conspirators - members of the legal profession - get disbarred and sentenced. Justice IS coming for the others - the “Law of Nature”. Justice is inevitable! I need do nothing.
May 15, Year One (Reflections)
Last May, after spending a week in Howard County Detention Center in Maryland, where I was apprehended, I was moved to another section of the prison. In that section prisoners were allowed to have radios. We were allowed to use the phone to make one call per day for a duration of ten minutes.
After you had the guard place your call, if the line was busy or an answering machine responded, you usually lost your turn at the phone.
Sometimes the guard would dial a second number for you. It all seemed to depend on the guard and his or her mood at the time.
After three days I finally reached my friend Mary Ann by phone and asked her to bring me a Sony Walkman and batteries for the same.
She came to visit that weekend and brought me the Walkman. It was a Panasonic Walkman, every bit as nice as the Sony - if not even nicer. I couldn't wait to get the batteries in it. I was so desperate for it I was worried it might not work. It did work and I had my own radio. A much coveted possession of no little value when you're behind bars.
I don't know how much longer I stayed at Howard after this, but it doesn't seem it was more than a couple of days, but the time was much more pleasant now.
June 2, Year One (Reflections)
In June the deputies from Washington County came down to extradite me back to Ohio. They let me listen to the Walkman on the way back in the van. All good things must come to an end and so it was with the Walkman. One of the first questions I asked them was, "Will I be able to keep it in their jail?" As I suspected, the answer was "NO!"
I dreaded the moment of return to Ohio but in another way it was nice to be home again. Little did I know what was waiting. The radio followed me to summit County Jail and was again kept from me.
After spending a week in Summit County Jail I was moved from 6 South to the 3rd Floor. 6 had been dorms with a bunch of men - young and old - thrown in together and two phones.
The dorm boss, Kregg, had a phone tied up, and a couple of pimps kept the other one in use. After a couple of days we had a confrontation over one of the phones.
If an untrusting animal can keep his woman on the phone then he knows she isn’t out with another man. This was common practice for several guys. The women at the other end use a phone until the collect calls (which are very expensive from here) run up such a bill that they can’t possible pay it. Then, they get a new one in another name.
This is called “burning up a phone”.
December 26, Year One
It’s Christmas-time I am in the Columbus Receiving Center prior to placement in the prison system.
Christmas was special for my cell mate Jesse and I.
We gave thanks to God and went to sleep. We did have something to be thankful for. We knew about the escape attempt and could have been spending the holidays in the Hole had we chosen to attempt to go home also.
A Puerto Rican hid in the trash dumpster on the way to chapel Christmas Eve. The Correction Officers found a stuffed dummy in his bed and began to look for him.
They promptly cuffed, shackled and carried him off to the Hole.
December 27, Year One
I got off the bus in my orange jump suit, leg chains, waist chain and handcuffs. I was photographed, finger-printed and given my lifetime ID badge. I am assigned to 7 House - “Little Saigon” - my new home.
Little Saigon is a sprawling one-story brick building from the 40’s - four wings divided by bars with heavy screens bolted over the windows. 70 bunks crowd each bay - double bunks down the middle.
During count you stand by your bed with your hand on it - four times a day or more. There are rules, rules and more rules. These are rules being given to psychopaths who delight in breaking rules - just because they are rules. They don’t follow them outside and sure as hell aren’t going to follow them in here.
Tennis shoes, costing hundreds of dollars, are the prize possession of many. Yesterday we were “locked down” - taken out of circulation - as the State Police visited Six House to remove a body hanging by a phone cord. His shoes were missing. He had just received a new pair from the street.
Someone saw a two-legged “animal” running away with the socks from the hanging body.
I wear State shoes. No one is going to kill me over these. The State decided they were going to raise me to maturity, so the State can clothe and feed me. When I want new clothing they can give them to me.
December 28, Year One
The camp has what it calls a LDU (Limited Duty Unit). In here are found numerous patients in wheel-chairs, totally blind men and men with one or no legs. One looks at the prisoners in this unit and can't help but wonder what type of crime they could have committed that could have landed them in here.
Mr. Oswald is an example of one of the partially disabled or elderly. When he finally crossed the legal system, they gave him a 3 - 10 year sentence to get him off the streets. Some judge in his infinite wisdom gave him this and specified for him to serve the full 10 years because the court figures he'd be better off in here than he would be outside.
As always there are things the good judge didn't take into consideration. Things like the weak and disabled get taken advantage of in a place like this. This guy had continually been caught living in a box under a bridge.
They are prime targets for extortion and the medical needs they have are not always available here when needed - if they are even available at all. Patients have died because the dialysis machine isn't always function- ing.
These people are often robbed on their way back from Commissary and deprived of the only luxuries and nice things that one can look forward to in here. The law of the jungle prevails here - only the strong survive.
December 29, Year One
To be in need of medical attention, unless it's obvious you are dying, means signing up for sick call. This is done on certain nights of the week: Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays between 5 and 8 PM. Passes are then handed out later for an appointment with the nurse at 5:00 PM the next afternoon.
Then follows a long wait with many other prisoners in a crowded waiting room with patients who have every- thing from TB to AIDS. Once the nurse sees you and confirms you really do need to see a doctor, you are given another pass to return in 24 hours for the doctor to see you. The doctor is professional and seems to know his business. On one occasion I saw a patient walk back out again. Usually they don't. This one was cuffed at wrists and ankles. It never fails to evoke sympathy from within me when I see a prisoner shack- led in such a manner, duck-walking his way to his destination. I have been shackled in this manner many times. It's uncomfortable to walk and the leg-cuffs cut into your ankles.
These leg cuffs are used too often. There is no need for them at all inside the fences. Where is a guy going to go if he is handcuffed inside these fences? They are used primarily to humiliate the prisoner and inflict some pain. There can be no other logical explanation.
The other day on the way to the library I saw a prisoner thus chained and cuffed. Well behaved prisoners from the Hole are treated this way. A guard will be a few steps behind him. He is allowed on hour of exercise per day in this manner.
January 1, Year One
A new year and a new look at our Justice System. I thought I could trust the system outside of my home county or I would have fought the extradition from Maryland - a state that I grew up in and had lawyers and judges as friends. There also I had the F.B.I. agents that I had been working with for the last six months. (I had also helped them in Ohio).
My wife and I each had sons by previous marriages when we met. After we married we had two more children - A handsome son and beautiful daughter.
I heard our son screaming in the kitchen one day and ran into the house to see my wife holding his hand in the flame of the kitchen gas stove.
I grabbed him and stopped her and asked why she was doing such a thing. She said he had been playing with fire. I told her to spank his tail, not burn him.
Later, I saw her grab our son by the hair of the head and sling him the distance of the room. His crime? Leaving the bicycle on the sidewalk. His scalp pulled loose from his skull with a hushed sucking sound - much like a bathroom plunger makes when you break the vacuum. I rushed over to Carl and felt his scalp. It pulled up like the skin on your elbow will.
I had been hearing our six week old daughter crying for the best part of a day. When I asked my wife what was wrong with Laura she simply said she’s “spoiled” and started beating her bottom so hard her little body was bouncing off the mattress as if it was a basketball. I shouted at her and scooped Laura up in my arms. Laura continued to cry.
Each time I tried to give her milk or water she threw it up - though she was thirsty.
I made her take the baby to the doctor as I sat with the other children. She said that the doctor agreed there is nothing wrong with Laura - only “spoiled”. The baby would cry - and then I would cry,
At midnight I rushed Laura to Marietta Hospital. They discovered she had a life-threatening congenital restriction at the top of her large intestine.
They operated on her the next day. She would have died from the condition. A spanking wasn’t the answer.
January 15, Year One
The guy in the bunk next to me is a disbarred lawyer (he attempted to fix a jury). When I explained how my lawyer went belly-up on me during the trial, he ex- plained that if I had slugged him in front of the jury I could have gotten a new trial.
He found it hard to believe that the state used two close friends of mine and my lawyer didn’t ask them any questions that would help my defense and both were more than willing to help me out if they could.
Rick (Littleton) knew first hand of my wife’s erratic behavior and had witnessed it on more than one occasion. The Court refused to hear testimony on her behavior, only on mine.
This is consistent with the Louisiana Legal System where you are “guilty until proven innocent” - an extension of the old Napoleonic law.
He had told the prosecutors privately that he knew that I hadn’t done what I was accused of and this wasn’t in my nature. But he wasn’t cross-examined by my attorney. I wish he had blurted it out for the jury, but he was scared.
The prosecuting attorney promised him a “personal benefit” if he had told an untruth, but Rick wouldn’t. Tell me why I shouldn’t get hot about this?
February 3, Year One
At this time there are four prisoners (3 black and 1 white) in the Hole that aren't even allowed clothing. They are allowed one blanket each and no other cloth- ing at all. They are there for trashing another prisoner's locker and setting fire to his clothes (to my understand- ing he wasn't in his clothes at the time they were burned).
These guys were hard cases when they were first put into the hole, 24 hours later they were begging cigarette butts from the trustee. This being February, I'll bet they are rapidly becoming humble.
Normally a prisoner comes back from the Hole harder than what he was before he went in. Sometimes it has the other effect. Each time a prisoner goes to the Hole he picks up more points. These points affect your security status and enough of them can cause you to be removed from this camp and placed in another prison which would be classified as close or maximum security. Some of these prisons are huge castle affairs and often are over 100 years old or more. Mansfield is one of these. The water often freezes in the commodes in the cells there during the winter months.
The van that delivered us here from Summit County stopped there and dropped a couple of prisoners off. That place was used to house Civil War prisoners and is still in operation. Inmates there don't have the opportunities to get out and walk around or even feel the grass or see the trees like we do here. Some of the prisoners here don't seem to appreciate what little we do have left of our freedom.
February 4, Year One
Normally when you are headed for the Hole, you'd eat all your Commissary and give any contraband to a friend to hold for you - if you know they are coming. The guards come in and handcuff you in front of every- one in your bay and several C.O.s* lead you off. Then two more will open your lockers and remove your possessions by placing them in plastic trash bags.
Sometimes radios get broken along with your arts and craft projects. After your possessions are bagged, they are taken up to the front office and carefully gone through.
At this time tickets are written for any and all contraband. Most everyone here has something that would be considered contraband. You might have too many of a certain item - like in my case - a bag which was made at OPI* of State Material. This I used to carry my tooth- brush, soap, shampoo and toiletries in.
We can't have regular shaving kits so most everyone has one of these bags. They normally don't write you up for just possession of one. They usually just confiscate it. An item with someone else's number on it will get you a theft charge.
Items such as radios, earphones, watches, rings, etc. are all engraved with the prisoners serial number. You are not allowed to loan, sell, trade or barter these items unless you are about to go home.
*Correctional Officers
**Ohio Prison Industry
February 5, Year One
If you are going home and want someone to have something, you must take the title and the object to the main office and have the other prisoner's number put on the item and a new title written up for the new owner.
It is standard procedure to loan or borrow these items and usually there is no serious penalties unless one of these items turns out to be stolen.
Since most everyone in here is now a convicted felon, being caught with an item which is stolen - regardless of its value makes you automatically guilty of another felony.
A person could spend the rest of his life in here. After your possessions are sorted, searched and gone over, they are logged and left to other prisoners to repack or stuff back into the garbage bags. Normally at this time most all Commissary stuff that's left or items of any value come up missing. A prisoner coming out of the Hole has to virtually start- over again very much the same as coming into the camp for the first time.
Seniority or a medical slip can get you a bottom bunk. Both of which you loose automatically and start over from a top bunk upon returning.
February 7, Year One
Stingers are another popular piece of contraband. Out of 50 people in our bay there are probably 6 or stringers. They are made of a pair of spoons separated by rubber bands so they don't touch one another and attached to the handles is an appliance cord. When plugged in and submerged into a container of water, this stinger quickly brings the water to a boil for making coffee or instant soup which can be purchased at the Commissary.
The stingers are always busy and the guards seem to overlook them unless someone flaunts one around or has it in his possessions during shake-down or when going to the Hole.
The camp has its own school ("Kirk School") which gives a prisoner an opportunity to get a high school diploma via G.E.D. A prisoner has an opportunity to get certain college credits if he can pass the entrance exams and can also get a grant. This I signed up for myself.
There is also a large modern building located within this camp with another high fence topped off with constantine wire. This is a camp within a camp. It is said to house the known AIDS patients.
Orient is known as the AIDS capitol of the prisons. Occasionally one of the general population is found to have it and when diagnosis is certain he is removed to the new building. The Courts later changed this and decreed it “unconstitutional” and turned them loose in the General Population
February 8, Year One
My sweatshirt that had been issued by the State was a mess and the zipper didn't even work. After going back to the Quarter-master I ended up with one which had a working zipper, but was stretched out of shape so badly it was useless. It was needed because the weather was now bitter cold.
When I found out my “bunkies” worked at the sewing factory, I asked him to taylor it down for me - which he promptly did. When my watch band broke another inmate took it to school with him and fixed it.
The only way I had to repay these kindnesses was with cigarettes - although neither of the gentlemen had asked for payment I gave them each a pack and that left me with one pack. I desperately wanted a radio.
I finally struck on an idea. I located a guy with the radio and offered him six packs for it. One I'd give him one pack now if he'd let me have the use of the radio for two weeks. I’d give him five more packs as final payment in two weeks. We struck a deal and at least I had a radio after almost nine months without one.
So I quickly put the Walkman earphones on. I could once again listen to the news and weather and fill my endless hours with music.
It made my captivity the difference between Heaven and Hell. There is no way I could explain the priceless joy that little $17 radio brought to my dreary existence.
February 9, Year One
Just returned from the shower. The porter was finishing mopping fresh blood up and scrubbing the floor. Two bunkies who often kidded each other finally got serious. The fight cost one of the bunkies his front teeth and a sizable cut on his face.
They started out horsing around and they finally got on each other’s nerves (because of the tension you live with inside the prison).
February 10, Year One
The fences have a strange effect upon me. I'm constantly aware of the fact I'm in prison. Every thing here seems to be designed to make you constantly aware of that fact every waking moment. There is absolutely no privacy and no peace and quiet.
If you take a bowel movement or go to relieve yourself, someone is there. Not a guard, they are few and far between. But, just another prisoner.
If a prisoner has a beef with another and he isn't man enough to stand toe-to-toe or doesn't want to take a chance on getting caught , he waits until his victim takes a crap and then either uses his sock-a-lock, or "pipes" him.
March 17, Year One
I saw Biglow this AM in the law library. We were discussing Plea Bargains and how O’Bannon used this deception to talk Jessie into pleading guilty for some- thing he didn’t do, He was told this would get the “charges resolved” so that he could “get on with his life”. I told Biglow how that after my first trial (with a 11 to 1 for my acquittal - only one hold-out ) O’Bannon offered me six months (time served) if I’d plea guilty to ANY felony. After a pre-sentence investigation, “the judge would send me home in time for Christmas”.
I told him it was tempting but I figured I’d never be able to hunt again - and I loved to hunt and I often rented my cabins out to hunters - and was a paid guide. Besides, I’d be pleading “Guilty” to something I didn’t do - I had not done what they said.
I’d rescued my children from a dangerous situation and tried to force my ex-wife into some sanity in rearing them safely. I had gained custody of my two children from my previous marriage and this wife was afraid I would also get custody of ours. In the process I scolded and shamed her for abusing the children. This created an “altercation” which led to the trumped-up, bogus “kidnapping” charge by her and her lawyer.
Biglow then told me “The Rest of The Story”. Most everyone is “over-charged” to start with. If you’ve robbed a store then you are charged with robbing three stores! Now you are scared and if it goes to Court they will try to convict you of all three.
But, if you plea bargain the State MIGHT only charge you with one - and promise you a reasonable sentence. So, a guilty man will normally plea bargain and admit his guilt. This does several things for the State. It costs them very little money as opposed to an expensive jury trial (“taking it to the box” as the cons say).
He continued to explain that in addition, a judge can hear a dozen plea bargains in one day, thus keeping his docket clear. A jury early on, and normally every detail is agreed to before you go in and plea guilty. This includes the time you will have to serve.
However, this is not always the case in Summit County. In Jessie’s case all was agreed upon before he went in front of Judge Greese. But the Judge broke the bargain and instead said, “Since you plead guilty - you are really guilty - then I’m going to give you 10 - 25 years.”
Biglow explained that if I had plea bargained the Judge would certainly have given me the same or more time than I’m doing now. But, it would have saved the State the cost of a trial.
He also said that if everyone insisted on a jury trial the State would be so backed up and the judge’s dockets too full. They would have to drop the least serious cases and only try the serious ones.
Biglow said, “You can forget that “beauty of a plea bargain they offered you ”. It was a trap for sure.”
"First you catch the guy, then you get the evidence to convict him." TV Show - “Top Cops”
January 4, Year Two
We are late for breakfast this morning. In fact, every- one is late for breakfast. There was a fire in the chow hall last night. No one seems to know anything more about it. It was accidental, I suppose, or there would be shakedowns and questioning sessions. Neither of which occurred, so I'm taking for granted there was nothing to cause any suspicion in it's origin. As one walks into the Chow Hall this morning you get hit with the wonderful aroma of breakfast plus a noticeable addition of wood smoke.
My mind was instantly carried away to Grandma Matthew’s kitchen years ago, with the wonderful childhood memories of her old wood-burning kitchen stove. She and Granddad would be up early and the wood stove would be lit with corncobs and kindling and sometimes a touch of coal oil to get it started.
The stove warmed the house as well as the food it cooked and the hearts of those around it. Often Grandma had a pie on the warming shelf of that old stove and it turned out the most wonderful apple dumplings.
Grandma was now 93 and still getting along reasonably well, but the farm had been sold long ago and the old wood stove only exists in my memories.
This brings another reality to mind. At Grandma's age and with the length of my sentence, I'll never see her again. At this moment the hate and anger against the judge that sentenced me and the attorneys that failed to defend me wells within me.
The hopelessness of the whole situation brings tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away - no one notices. It had been cold out and wasn't unusual for one's eyes to tear over anyhow.
It's just another day in prison. Just one of many, many more to come. I mention to Jesse how the smell of the hall reminds me of old times at Grandma’s.
He tells me of similar ones, not too long ago, that he had in Mexico.
I'm sorry the Summit County "Sewer System Judiciary" carried him down the river with me.
But, I thank the Lord for the company and companion- ship of this Christian Mexican.
February 2, Year Two
Jay Bunnell cut Johnny Paycheck’s hair and none of it stayed on the floor, It was sold or taken by other prisoners for souvenirs. Jay even had the mug shot photographer make an extra ID photo of Paycheck for him. Photographer and barber are next door to one another at the induction center.
Biglow is very unhappy with attorney O'Bannon’s services too. O'Bannon sunk him too after taking his money. Mike even tried to fire him and the judge wouldn't let him. (We had chicken for lunch today. Mine was burned. I haven't been going to breakfast so I ate it anyhow. It wasn't too bad after I threw the skin away. At least it wasn’t “raw” again.)
Biglow talked for sometime about the raw deal Jesse got at the hands of O'Bannon. Biglow was present also when O'Bannon told Jesse he'd “be on the street and not to worry about his charges”. Jay being what you call a habitual offender and having a little more experience in these matter than any of the rest of us, was the only one shrewd enough to fire O'Bannon before he could do him much damage. Biglow said O'Bannon only made three or four short visits to him before trial date. Biglow is here on charges of safe-cracking.
He said he thought he'd never see the day he was happy to get into prison, but after his months in Summit County jail and weeks at C.R.C. (Columbus Receiving Center). I fully understand what he means. I went through it also. He told me Jay lost his job as barber at CRC. It seems he would give a State haircut unless a prisoner came across with a pack.
Any prisoner sporting a State haircut strongly resembles a prisoner from a WWII concentration camp. Biglow said Jay had 8 cartons of cigarettes when they shook him down. A prisoner is only allowed 10 packs maximum. The C.O.'s take any excess as contraband. Contraband is never returned.
February 9, Year Two
After going to church and the pastor not arriving, I settled in with my radio and newly acquired earphones. (cost: two packs of cigarettes. Only one side of the earphones worked) Earphones are stereo and the radio is just plain old one-channel.
Stubs and Quick cut the wires and rewired the jack so it will make both sides of the phones work. I'm always amazed at the ingenuity and resourcefulness of these guys. The earphones had a jack that fit my radio, but it had too many pick-ups on the jack. They work like new ones now. They even had electrical tape to repair the cord.
The Pastor showed up 1/2 hour late and we were re- called and again went to Church services. Today a C.O. sat near the door and his radio sounded off though the entire church service. I thought this was very inconsiderate to say the least. Usually no C.O.'s observe the services.
I wrote Laura, my daughter, when I returned and drew a picture of Garfield the cat crying on the envelope, with a broken heart over him. Although she can't read yet, she will get the idea if she only sees the envelope.
Biglow visited for awhile and told me Johnny Paycheck has been over at CRC for a couple of weeks. He's classified to come here as a result of a barroom shoot- ing he was involved in here in Ohio. None of us expect him to stay any length of time. The Judicial System, being as corrupt as it is, we are sure he will be out on some sort of shock plan if he tries.
Note: George Jones later helped him get bond while awaiting an appeal. This is very unusual.
February 10, Year Two
Everyone works in the prison except those in LDU (Limited Duty Unit - also known as “Lame, Dumb and Ugly”). Some are totally blind, some are in wheel chairs. Since everyone must work I applied for the clerk's job that was open in the dorm office.
I didn't really want to go to work just yet because my appeal was taking up most of my time.
I'm still way behind on my typing. There are 1,800 inmates here and three typewriters. All typewriters are defective in one way or another. To get the best functioning one you must be there when the library opens. Then there may be others ahead of you, so I applied for the clerk's job and got it. Now I have unlimited use of one and a good one it is.
Sgt. Saxton hired me and immediately informed me that anything I heard or saw inside that office was to remain there. As luck would have it, Sgt. Saxton has been transferred and a new Sgt. who has never done this type work before is taking over. This is going to be a great loss to the management and the prisoners.
February 11, Year Two
Sarg had been here for some time and although he looked and talked like a redneck country bumpkin, he possessed the wisdom of Solomon.
How often I saw an inmate just about talk his way out of a situation and Sarg would come back with one last question that would trip him up or that he couldn't answer.
An example: "Isn't this the fifth time you've had this exact same accident?" But, if the guy was truly innocent Sarg found him so - and if there was any doubt in his mind, he'd give the guy in question the benefit of it. We're truly going to miss him.
The new Sarg is a young man who I haven't seen yet. His assistant is a female with no experience and a lot of new ideas that are already proving disastrous.
With the coming of warm weather and the lack of competent leadership, we are expecting the place to “go to hell in a hand basket”.
I'm told in the heat of summer this place is a lit stick of dynamite.
I can believe it. We got a new dorm manager just prior to my arrival, now Sarg has been replaced and I just found out both inmate counselors are being replaced.
Just when the system was starting to operate smoothly, they change all personnel in management.
February 12, Year One
Dear Connie*,
I'm sending these now because I may be going to the Hole in the morning and these could cause me trouble. I was supposed to throw away some clothing found in the Sarge's office after he moved. Instead, I gave jogging suit to a guy. He gave it to someone else and it turned out it had been stolen a year ago.
I don't know what I did wrong, but when the original owner saw it he was fit to be tied and wanted to fight. I didn't. He went to the C.O. instead.
I'm in some kind of trouble. Yes, I got your original letter to O'Bannon and sent it to him. Ha!!
Don't send anything back that I have written unless I ask for it. Thanks!
Later: I suspect the new Sergeant saved my butt be- cause he couldn’t handle the office without me.
Anyhow, no HOLE shot.
*My sister
February 13, Year Two
You are constantly aware of your incarceration, but when I'm confronted by that fence I'm instantly challenged. It never fails to affect me this way
Yesterday was a bright, sunny Sunday - above freezing. The birds were singing and the sun was reflecting brightly off the stainless steel constantine wire. This isn't plain old barbed wire. It's a very hazardous wire barrier that is meant to maim anyone who comes into contact with it. The main wire is two strands of a crimped flat wire with razor blades embedded every 12 to 14 inches.
Some of it has rectangular blades in it. All stainless and almost as thick as a knife blade, but most of this wire has pendulum shaped blades in it.
The back of the blade appears to be dull to catch your clothing - the outer edge is razor sharp to cut. The fences are doubled with a gravel space between the inner and outer fence about 14 feet wide with no vegetation allowed to grow there.
Both fences are 14 feet high, anchor-woven wire. The innermost fence has only one strand of constantine wire at the very top. The outermost fence has a stretch of constantine wire interwoven at equal distances from the bottom at ground level to the very top.
The first wouldn't be that hard to climb, but the second one would tear a man and his clothing up. The feeling I get when I gaze upon it is, I suppose, the same feeling a mountain climber gets as he gazes upon the Matterhorn.
I'd love to conquer it for three reasons. One, because it is there. Two, it's intimidating. And three, just imagine how upset the people would be that put me here. My ex would never spend a restful night again. Not that she does now, but the children would be the ones she would take her lack of sleep and hostilities out on.
February 14, Year Two
I feel the fence is just there to intimidate, insult and humiliate the majority of the prisoners. I now realize the only way this fence can cause me any problems is mentally. I am determined to ignore this constant slap in the face.
I'm sure it must make the people in the surrounding communities feel more secure. I know it did me when I used to see them from the outside. How very little they really know.
Upon returning from an early lunch I found the phones not in use, so I called George Fields - my ex-boss. I told him I was seriously considering suing O'Bannon. He offered any help that was within his power. Friends like George are few and far between and it certainly made me feel better to know he was behind me.
Having been separated from the outside world for so long and finally having a radio that I could control the dial and select my own stations, I discovered a new world out there.
February 14, Year Two
I remember back in Summit County when rumors went around that Metcalf, one of the prisoners on 3rd floor, had attempted to escape. He had a Walkman in the Hole. Rumor also had it that his attorney had gotten a judge's order to be able to allow him to have it. If this was true then I was ready to go to the Hole. There was just one hitch.
My judge was so provoked that he wouldn't have given me water if I was dying of thirst - let alone a radio.
My radio was still there in my property bags when my first trial took place. But, seven months later when the second trial was over with and I was headed off to prison, the little Walkman was no longer with my property. Someone had seen it in the property room and now that I was going away I suppose they figured there was nothing I could do about its disappearance - and they were right.
Once found guilty, you are the property of the State and you now have no rights. I had gone through all the weeks of orientation with the many moves and mental indoctrination and intimidations that it consists of - and finally placed in the prison system. Being an inmate at Orient, I can now have a radio.
You are only allowed three sundry boxes a year here - and two food boxes - one of which must be at or near Christmas. These are run through an x-ray. Last week they picked up 6 rounds of 38 caliber ammunition in a peanut butter jar.
February 15, Year Two
When I came in from work my neighbor had a clutter on the floor between our bunks. Leaning up against mine was the vent cover to the heating duct. In the floor were two bags of wine. One was made of tomato puree and the other from fruit cocktail.
Recipe: Put one new trash bag inside of another. Take the fruit-cocktail that gets smuggled back into the dorm by putting a half gallon in a trash bag and taping it to your leg when you return from Chow Hall duty. Add sugar (obtained the same way). Take a clean white sock and insert a ball of up to five slices of white bread and tie it off with a clean string. Put these ingredients into the trash bags and add 1 1/2 gallons of water.
Tie the neck of the bags off with big rubber bands so that when the gas builds up it can bleed off, but air can’t get back in. (It burps) Put this into the heating duct for about three days. Then, remove and add more sugar, or water to taste. Three more days later it’s PAYDAY! Jack charges three packs of cigarettes for a large cup full - and it’s good.
The tomato wine is much stronger or more powerful, but it doesn’t taste good to me. Jack let me sample both.
I couldn’t justify buying his product, but I hated to see him throw the fruit cocktail away. I tried a little of it and it was as good as the wine, so I got another full cup. By the time I had eaten this I was high as a kite. I told him how good it was and from then on he used this by- product to pay people for assisting him.
February 20, Year Two
It is cold and drizzling rain. Another prisoner is destined for the Hole. He is younger than I, but prematurely balding. A rather handsome person that appears to take good care of himself. He is well-liked, bothers no one and is what one would consider a model prisoner. However, when tested he had dirty urine. He had evidently been smoking reefer on break from his sew- ing job and someone snitched him out. Sarg Jones, the fellow I clerk for now, had the task of sentencing him to 10 days in the Hole.
The Sergeant's job isn't always an easy one and the prisoner didn't once lie to him. It was obvious Sarg hated to pronounce sentence, but there is no flexibility for drug infractions. As if going to the Hole isn't bad enough in itself, the points added to one's record can cause serious damage later - aside from the security status change. These points effect the decision of the parole board when one goes up for a release hearing.
These points may cause you to spend years more in here. Yet, hardly a day goes by but what someone doesn't get robbed, piped, extorted or sock-a-locked. It's just a way of life to some in here. If they get caught, OK. If they don't, OK too. The penalty in here is nowhere near as serious as it would be out on the streets.
For example - killing someone on the streets can get you 20 years imprisonment. Killing someone in here - as long as it's another prisoner - will only get you 2 - 5 years in most cases. Again you go to the Hole until you are tried. Then you get out of the Hole.
February 21, Year Two
Each prisoner is allowed two combination locks that have a key entry from the rear that allows the guards to enter your lockers at will. The aggressor puts both locks inside a sock then places that sock inside the second and it makes an effective weapon when held by the cuffs and swung. Rocks and pipes are also used.
Today Wild Cherry and Action Paxton are doing each other's hair at the foot of the bunk next to mine.
All bunks are lined in double bunk fashion (one above the other) with the head boards against the wall and roughly 3 1/2 feet between them. This bay contains 50 men when full. Usually 47 or 48 are on hand at count. Someone is always in the Hole or going and coming from it.
All bunks are arranged this way except for Wild Cherry’s bunk. "Her” bunk is in the center of a 16 feet wide isle down at the lower end of the bay. When one listens to the radio often it seems a new song or tune comes out just every now and then, but after an absence of nine months, there was a hoard of new music and songs I'd never heard before."She" listens to her radio without the use of earphones and squeals with glee or joy in time to the music.
“She” lays in her bunk and swings her arms back and forth like a couple of stalks of wheat in the wind while squealing and listening to the noise that some of the people call music. “She” was just returned from the Hole last week.
February 24, Year Two
I awakened to a loud noise this morning. It was Mr. Talbert landing against his wall locker. Wild Cherry had hit him. Mr. Tabert is an elderly black man whom I attend church with on Sundays. Often we walk together or sit together during services.
Wild Cherry* and "her" friends were still partying hard when I went to sleep. I was often awakened by their laughter and carrying on during the night. Mr. Talbert evidently checked "her" for it. This morning "she" hit him. A fight followed. He used the ringer off a mop bucket because "she" was both bigger and much younger than he.
The fight was neither long nor furious and no one got seriously hurt. I had to force myself to stay out and not try to stop it. No one even tried to stop it. I was surprised. They all wanted to see blood, I guess.
They both defended their honor, I suppose - and it was then over. I had a strong urge to try to talk them out of it, but refrained from doing so. I can't afford any trouble myself.
The natives were restless tonight.
*Wild Cherry is about 5’8” and weighs about 200 pounds and has the perfect breasts of a woman. She was in the middle of a sex change so the State still has to give her hormone treatments. She hasn’t gotten rid of the “junk down below” (male genitals) yet, so she looks like a football player with long hair and tits.
February 25, Year Two
The tomato wine flowed freely last night. By midnight most of the party goers were well drunk and Action Paxton was passed out. The C.O.'s came in sometime afterwards and carried him off to the Hole.
Wild Cherry has a bad hangover this morning and was almost late for "her" job as a server at the Chow Hall. "She" doesn't seem too broke up over the absence of Paxton. The word is, "she" is probably changing lovers anyhow.
So much for true love.
I had a very busy day today bringing Security levels up- to-date and we had several bed changes in addition to normal office routine.