As I adjust to prison life during my short six-month stay at Jesup FCI (Federal Corrections Institution), I have developed tremendous respect for the men around me who have served much longer sentences.
I am certain I will survive the experience of going to jail; there were times before when I did not believe I could survive. Now I am on the downhill side. My routine has transitioned from initial shock to acceptance, even to something of facility with the daily life and expectations. At times prison life is almost boring. We eat hamburgers every Wednesday, chicken every Thursday, horrible fish every Friday. The food is bad, but the routine is well understood.
Still there are surprises. Recently, I was running laps on the clay track behind the camp. In addition to walking, I have started jogging 3x weekly for 12 laps at a time — about five miles. I was on lap #6 when an announcement was called over the PA system, “Ice cream sandwiches available in the officer’s station. First come, first served. Free ice cream sandwiches while they last.” This is known as a jogger’s dilemma! Although only half-way finished with my run, I soon found my feet carrying me inside to the officer’s station. There the hapless CO looked at me like I was crazy. There was no ice cream.
It is fun to call over the PA system, saying “free ice cream” or “free popcorn,” getting as many inmates as possible reporting to the presiding CO’s post, who must then explain that there is nothing to offer — no free ice cream. No free lunch.
Later, I learned that this is a practical joke the CO’s like to play on each other. It is fun to call over the PA system, saying “free ice cream” or “free popcorn,” getting as many inmates as possible reporting to the presiding CO’s post, who must then explain that there is nothing to offer — no free ice cream. No free lunch.
The federal prison system is a dysfunctional business. During my stay, I have seen 15 prisoners sent to the SHU (Special Housing Unit — solitary confinement) for various infractions, mostly possession of a cell phone, booze or other contraband. But there are always new prisoners arriving behind those departed, and our 150 beds are almost always full.
While most offenders are serving sentences for drug violations, and several inmates have “put down” lengthy sentences, there are clearly some poor souls who don’t need to be in prison. Yesterday, an 84-year old inmate passed out while waiting in a long line for chow. Worse, there is precious little rehabilitation for the many addicts who surround me. You gain a different perspective on criminal justice when seen from the inside.
Every inmate in the camp is required to have a prison job, and I have signed up to be a landscaper. With the coming of Spring, the weather is turning warmer, and the grass is starting to grow. There are maybe 1,300 acres of green lawn throughout the prison complex, and we are responsible for mowing all of it. I ride on a fast commercial lawn mower steered by hydraulic handles; it is like a mowing go cart. There is no happier feeling than departing the camp, getting lost in the woods of Southern Georgia pine forest, mowing around trees as the sun filters down from a clear blue sky. The smell of cut grass is something I have missed since childhood. There is pride in doing an honest job in a high quality way. Looking over my tracks on a freshly mowed field, I am proud of my work.
I would rather be home with my wife and children, but I have found Zen in lawn mowing. I know that this moment would not happen but for my time here. I am grateful that God is giving me the opportunity to experience this time and the awareness to contemplate its meaning. Ironically, I will look back on Jesup FCI and know that it was special, but I hope that this is someplace I will never return.
Originally written at Jesup Federal Prison Camp on March 26, 2018
