Jail then Prison || 1
One of these is not like the other
Get on down the road man, you don’t wanna do your time here.
I had just been sentenced to 3 years for a felony plus 12 months for a misdemeanor. It was day 1 in jail for us both, but we were at very different stages in the process.
Hankley had just been arrested for “running a business without a business license.”
“Oh really"? I asked, trying to take an interest. “What type of business are you in?”
“Not doin shit right now am I! Anyway, down the road they got softball, volleyball, horseshoes. You can buy peanut butter by the jar. They got vocational programs, so you can work on small engines. You can go to school, get your GED. Yea, there ain’t shit like that here, get on down the road man. You’ve already been sentenced - get outta here.”
Um. Ok, yea I’ll get right on that. I’ll just, what, leave through the front door and start walking?
I spent the next 7 months in that jail - going through the phases and watching people come and go.
Phase 1
It’s a weird feeling to not know what time it is, even when it doesn’t matter. Locked in a cell for 23-hours a day, much of that time is spent sleeping - or trying to sleep at least. There was a big analog clock in the pod, but it was on a wall that most cells couldn’t see.
“What time is?” was a common shout heard throughout the day, sometimes with a reply in tow.
The COs1 worked in 12-hour shifts, alternating between 3 days on with 2 days off and 2 days on with 3 days off. On day 3 inside I saw a face I recognized when the new night shift came on - a guy I used to play baseball with.
He was doing his rounds when his face came to the window of my cell accompanied by a look of surprise.
“What the hell are you doin here man?”
I said some words, but he couldn’t hear them through the door.
“Gimme 9!” He shouted down the other CO at the desk who pushed a button on the screen in front of him.
POP went the lock - loud enough to make a dog shit himself I’d later find out - and the door sprung open.
“Vehicular manslaughter. I lost control at a hundred and twenty and a friend of mine died.”
“Damn dude, that sucks. You don’t belong here,” he said before slamming the door closed in my face.
I’d find out later that most people hated this guy. He was one of those young COs who felt like he had to flex his authority. When I was in court for sentencing there was another guy being sentenced to 18 years for throwing a microwave at this very same guy. He didn’t give me any trouble though.
Phase 2
Two weeks later and it was out of the dreary quiet and into the chaos: inmates out of their cells for much of the day, playing cards, watching TV, microwaving coffee, soup, or candy.
The jail was set up to encourage inmates to get into phase 3. With 2 extra hours outside of the cell each day, “privileges” to work in more interesting parts of the jail (there were legendary vats of peanut butter that kitchen workers had access to), and movie rentals shown on weekends, this was the place to be.
“They’ll put you in phase 3 right away. You’re a good person. Not like those other idiots,” my girlfriend would tell me over the phone.
To get into phase 3 you had to complete a mandatory program. Either AA/NA2, anger management, or financial planning. Each program met once a week for a month and you’d have to wait for the schedule to cycle back to the beginning before you could join. You’d also have to sign up for pod work, which involved cleaning the tables and microwaves, sweeping, mopping, and scrubbing the showers. These workers got to stay out an extra 20 minutes after lockdown to do their jobs. Time which was often spent microwaving more food.
Most people in phase 2 didn’t want to go to phase 3, which surprised me at first. They’d never do the “mandatory” programming and they’d refuse to sign up for pod work. They thrived in the chaotic environment by getting into daily routines of TV, workouts, and cards.
The Hole
If you did something stupid - like get into a fight - you’d go to the hole for a week or two. When you came out, you’d start over in phase 1. Didn’t finish your mandatory programming? You can start it again from the beginning.
Oops.
Phase 3
People were either at work or asleep. Although it was permitted to be outside of the cells until midnight, many people had to wake up at 4am for the start of the morning kitchen shift.
I quickly came to the realization that there were no weekends or holidays. Work was every day and if you didn’t want to go, then you’d go to the hole. Not back to phase 2. To the hole.
Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.
— The Constitution
Oops.
Everybody says “C.O.” Nobody says “guard.”
Alcoholics Anonymous/Narcotics Anonymous