Incarceration Chronicles Part One: 17-21 February 1994 (My First Week at Lorain Correctional Institution)
I just found, in a sealed envelope in a plastic tub in my attic, several legal pads that were part of the journal I kept during my incarceration. I had mailed them home to Mom in 1994. And since she knew what they were and respected my privacy, she did not even open the envelope, though I'd fully expected her to do so (and even included a short note to her).
I'm going through these to refresh my memory (though some memories seem to need no refreshing) as I write my book of memoirs. While I'm at it, I'm thinking about entering the entire handwritten text into Microsoft Word for future convenience (and in case, god forbid, something unexpected would happen like the house burning down). That's a herculean task I'm not certain I'll be able to complete if I want to get anything else done this year. But as long as I am doing it, I figure I may as well post excerpts on my blog, both to sate my friends' curiosity and to (perhaps) generate interest in my book.
Here's a little context for the entry I'm about to post.
Summer 1992 - The crime for which I was incarcerated allegedly occurred.
October 1993 - After over a year free on bond, I was convicted and sentenced to 7-to-25 years in prison.
October 1993 to February 1994 - In the Lorain County jail, I awaited transfer to a state prison.
February 1994 to May 1994 - I resided in a state prison in Grafton, Ohio (Lorain Correctional Institution, a reception center where all new state inmates from northern Ohio are housed while they are classified and assessed before being assigned to a "parent institution").
May 1994 to June 2004 - I served the rest of my sentence at the Marion Correctional Institution.
The following are my first journal entries upon arriving at the state's Lorain Correctional Institution in Grafton (not to be confused with the Lorain County jail) in February of 1994. Every word is true, although I tended to downplay my fear somewhat because I didn't want family at home (who, for all I knew, might have read these words) to worry too much. If I need to add anything for clarification's sake, I will do so in brackets [like these].
Though these are my first journal entries in "prison," I had written 309 journal pages during the previous four months while I waited at the county jail. So this selection covers handwritten pages 310 through 312 of what I call my "Incarceration Chronicles."
Saturday 19 February 1994
morning
Last Thursday, I went back to sleep after breakfast. At 9:30, I was awakened and told to pack my belongings. It was penitentiary time.
I regret that I had to leave Anna Karenina unfinished. I barely got to say goodbye to Mike. I wish I would have gotten embossed envelopes before I was shipped. Now I must wait for them and a writing utensil until I get out of orientation and go to commissary. Finally I got to write a free letter and make a phone call today. I called Dad and wrote to Pam. The guard will collect our letters tomorrow. Mom is at Salt Fork with Ben.
I nearly passed out while waiting for my physical examination yesterday. They had me lie on the floor and put my knees up until I recovered. I can get fillings and whatever else my teeth need at my permanent institution. All they will do here is extract, if necessary. I'll wait.
I fear a week's worth of mail will be lost between the county jail and here. Nobody has my new address; and I won't be able to notify anyone [else] about my move for another week and a half. Hopefully, Pam or Mom will file a change of address for me at the post office.
I've been reading in my Bhagavad-gita As It Is (with translations and commentaries by A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada). I'm very happy to have something to read. I've also been practicing yoga a little. I really don't endorse such escapes. But, at least for the present, it helps prevent the onslaught of depression and self-pity.
My new address is:
John [B.] #284-742
Lorain Correctional Institution
2075 South Avon Belden Road
Grafton, Ohio 44044
I gave a guy ten sheets of paper to be able to use this pencil. So I won't be able to write, probably, until I can go to commissary in over a week. I have to give it back to him sometime today.
* * *
Mon. 21 Feb. 1994
evening
Fortunately I was able to borrow this pencil from a guy who borrowed three sheets of paper earlier.
We did nothing today, due to the Presidents Day holiday. Last night, the nurse read our arms - I am negative for tuberculosis. I've had a cough for the past several days; I know not whether it's from exposure to the cold, smoke or both.
Last night, I finally got to shower and call Mom. Yesterday, too, I finished reading Bhagavad-gita As It Is and began it anew. I continued in it today.
My stomach has been cramped lately - probably from having to eat so fast.
The breakfasts here are better than at the county jail. The lunches and suppers are usually worse, though the spaghetti is better.
I washed out my dirty underclothes in the sink yesterday.
The beds are more comfortable here, though I miss the pillow I had in the county jail.
Hopefully, by the end of this week we'll be moved out of this reception housing. Now I am in unit 3A, cell 223, top bunk. I miss my bottom bunk.
This place isn't so bad. If I only had my personal hygeine items, a writing utencil, stamped envelopes and some more books, I would be fairly satisfied. When we are moved, I should be able to find a few books in the new pod; and we'll be able to get commissary.
From what I understand, my visiting days here are the first and third Wednesdays of each month. I'm not sure of the times. I hope the late session is late enough so Pam or whoever won't have to miss work.
At least here we can see out of our cell windows. Though they are barred, we can even open them to get fresh air.
Chris [last name expurgated], who Pam and I knew (and I couldn't stand) from the downtown Elyria bars, was the officer who went through my belongings and strip searched me on Thursday. How humiliating! I am better than him, but he got to look down upon me. At least he pretended not to know me and was polite.
In the chow hall, I saw another officer we know, Debbie the dyke, from 1504. She is a really nice woman. Anyway, I was so embarrassed to be here that I avoided and pretended not to see her. I think she saw me, though.
I'm going through these to refresh my memory (though some memories seem to need no refreshing) as I write my book of memoirs. While I'm at it, I'm thinking about entering the entire handwritten text into Microsoft Word for future convenience (and in case, god forbid, something unexpected would happen like the house burning down). That's a herculean task I'm not certain I'll be able to complete if I want to get anything else done this year. But as long as I am doing it, I figure I may as well post excerpts on my blog, both to sate my friends' curiosity and to (perhaps) generate interest in my book.
Here's a little context for the entry I'm about to post.
Summer 1992 - The crime for which I was incarcerated allegedly occurred.
October 1993 - After over a year free on bond, I was convicted and sentenced to 7-to-25 years in prison.
October 1993 to February 1994 - In the Lorain County jail, I awaited transfer to a state prison.
February 1994 to May 1994 - I resided in a state prison in Grafton, Ohio (Lorain Correctional Institution, a reception center where all new state inmates from northern Ohio are housed while they are classified and assessed before being assigned to a "parent institution").
May 1994 to June 2004 - I served the rest of my sentence at the Marion Correctional Institution.
The following are my first journal entries upon arriving at the state's Lorain Correctional Institution in Grafton (not to be confused with the Lorain County jail) in February of 1994. Every word is true, although I tended to downplay my fear somewhat because I didn't want family at home (who, for all I knew, might have read these words) to worry too much. If I need to add anything for clarification's sake, I will do so in brackets [like these].
Though these are my first journal entries in "prison," I had written 309 journal pages during the previous four months while I waited at the county jail. So this selection covers handwritten pages 310 through 312 of what I call my "Incarceration Chronicles."
Saturday 19 February 1994
morning
Last Thursday, I went back to sleep after breakfast. At 9:30, I was awakened and told to pack my belongings. It was penitentiary time.
I regret that I had to leave Anna Karenina unfinished. I barely got to say goodbye to Mike. I wish I would have gotten embossed envelopes before I was shipped. Now I must wait for them and a writing utensil until I get out of orientation and go to commissary. Finally I got to write a free letter and make a phone call today. I called Dad and wrote to Pam. The guard will collect our letters tomorrow. Mom is at Salt Fork with Ben.
I nearly passed out while waiting for my physical examination yesterday. They had me lie on the floor and put my knees up until I recovered. I can get fillings and whatever else my teeth need at my permanent institution. All they will do here is extract, if necessary. I'll wait.
I fear a week's worth of mail will be lost between the county jail and here. Nobody has my new address; and I won't be able to notify anyone [else] about my move for another week and a half. Hopefully, Pam or Mom will file a change of address for me at the post office.
I've been reading in my Bhagavad-gita As It Is (with translations and commentaries by A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada). I'm very happy to have something to read. I've also been practicing yoga a little. I really don't endorse such escapes. But, at least for the present, it helps prevent the onslaught of depression and self-pity.
My new address is:
John [B.] #284-742
Lorain Correctional Institution
2075 South Avon Belden Road
Grafton, Ohio 44044
I gave a guy ten sheets of paper to be able to use this pencil. So I won't be able to write, probably, until I can go to commissary in over a week. I have to give it back to him sometime today.
* * *
Mon. 21 Feb. 1994
evening
Fortunately I was able to borrow this pencil from a guy who borrowed three sheets of paper earlier.
We did nothing today, due to the Presidents Day holiday. Last night, the nurse read our arms - I am negative for tuberculosis. I've had a cough for the past several days; I know not whether it's from exposure to the cold, smoke or both.
Last night, I finally got to shower and call Mom. Yesterday, too, I finished reading Bhagavad-gita As It Is and began it anew. I continued in it today.
My stomach has been cramped lately - probably from having to eat so fast.
The breakfasts here are better than at the county jail. The lunches and suppers are usually worse, though the spaghetti is better.
I washed out my dirty underclothes in the sink yesterday.
The beds are more comfortable here, though I miss the pillow I had in the county jail.
Hopefully, by the end of this week we'll be moved out of this reception housing. Now I am in unit 3A, cell 223, top bunk. I miss my bottom bunk.
This place isn't so bad. If I only had my personal hygeine items, a writing utencil, stamped envelopes and some more books, I would be fairly satisfied. When we are moved, I should be able to find a few books in the new pod; and we'll be able to get commissary.
From what I understand, my visiting days here are the first and third Wednesdays of each month. I'm not sure of the times. I hope the late session is late enough so Pam or whoever won't have to miss work.
At least here we can see out of our cell windows. Though they are barred, we can even open them to get fresh air.
Chris [last name expurgated], who Pam and I knew (and I couldn't stand) from the downtown Elyria bars, was the officer who went through my belongings and strip searched me on Thursday. How humiliating! I am better than him, but he got to look down upon me. At least he pretended not to know me and was polite.
In the chow hall, I saw another officer we know, Debbie the dyke, from 1504. She is a really nice woman. Anyway, I was so embarrassed to be here that I avoided and pretended not to see her. I think she saw me, though.
Oh man John, but for the Grace of God...ya know? So glad you used this time wisely, took crap and made it into an opportunity to grow from within. You don't even sound angry?
Bigger person than me...
Hugs,
S.
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Thanks, Suzette!
Well, there was anger - I had vented a lot of that in my previous 309 pages (which weren't in the envelope, by the way, and must be in another tub). By the time I wrote this, I had already had four months behind bars to digest the fact that I was going to be there, like it or not, and I might as well make the best of it. Of course, I had no idea at the time that I would be locked up for close to eleven years. I had a new lawyer and had just filed my appeal - and obvious errors had been made during my trial - so I was fairly confident that my conviction would be overturned on appeal (or the alleged victim would feel guilty and 'fess up). I expected a ruling by the summer of 1994 and hoped to be free again at that time.
So overly optimistic and even deluded perhaps... but not necesarily bigger....
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i'm digesting this blog.
you know me, i'll be back.
*hugs*
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Thanks, mb! Looking forward to your return....
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i'm having some trouble with this blog. not so much because of that you had to deal with, which i, personally can't even imagine, but because it's making me question things with my youngest stepson who is currently in jail, waiting to find out what' going to happen to him.
unlike you, ryan is very guilty of his crimes. we haven't had much contact with him since he's been in jail, mostly because of the way visitation is set up. kurt took a sunday off not long ago, had set everything up according to the jail's rules, only to get there in the afternoon and find out he needed to go in the morning and sign up on a sheet paper no one had mentioned to him before.
like you, he's seems to be trying to make the most of his time there. he's started reading, which is something he's never had much use for before, and a few other things.
we've tried to donate books for the prison library, but they don't take outside donations. makes me wonder where they get their books from. perhaps this is something i should check into.
i've kind of written myself into a wall here, lost my train of thought. i was going to use something you said in the last comment on your "maiku" blog, to suzette, and now i can't even remember why i was going to to do that.
i can only hope that like you, ryan continues to try and make the best of his "time".
what happened to you was a terrible injustice, but it's partly made you who you are today.
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I have to admit that every single letter I got from John recounted the books he was reading and later what he was doing by writing lyrics and music for plays in the prison and the activities of the Horizon Program. It was his mind and his nobility of spirit that saved him and you can see this in what he writes today. I call his case an egregious miscarriage of justice and I know there have been many besides John who have gone through this. The Innocence Project is fairly new but they are finding a lot of men who are exonerated because the DNA didn't match. In J.C.s case there was NO DNA or other evidence presented to the jury, just a girl who perjured herself under oath and the jury believed her and when she talked to him on the phone in prison she felt remorse and wished he could be released but she never went to the authorities to confess this. 15 years later out on parole he cannot contact her because it is against the law. Figure that one out? And he is considered a rapist and sex offender for the rest of his life and nobody will hire him because of his background checks.
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I really, really, really feel for Ryan.
Every state's different - every jail even, I believe. When I worked in the Marion Correctional Institutional library, we did accept donations (we also had a budget with which to purchase some new books). But donations from inmates' families were frowned upon (certain librarians and deputy wardens we had over the years were less amenable to it than others). With religious books, I could get around some of the red tape by going through the chaplain or having them donated to Horizon.
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Damn JC, you're just full of surprises... Andy Dufresne. A beautiful bird trapped in a cage. I mean, you said "this place ain't so bad" and I'm thinking, with my anxiety disorder and terror of just the drunk tank, "how in the hell could he say that?!"
...Ever end up finishing Anna Karenina btw?
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Thanks, Brandon!
Well, after 4 months in the county jail, this was actually an overall improvement in situation. Especially since I was expecting a situation where I'd have to fight for my life or be raped on day one. It still sucked in a number of ways - but I was relieved that it wasn't as bad as I'd feared.
Of course here in the reception center, we were locked in our cells 24 hours a day except to go to meals - so I only had to deal with one other person, and he was more mild (and scared) than me. I didn't get the full prison population experience during those first few days.
I finally found and got to finish another copy of Anna Karenina early in 1996.
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Neat - I hope you blog more of this.
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Thanks, Lady! I think I will....
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A couple of months ago I blogged the 2nd and 3rd letter I received from you while you were in Grafton prison where I was at that time teaching a course in college Spanish for LCCC. So now I am putting the very first letter from you on a blog since you are posting journal info on your first days in prison. You can imagine how I felt when I got this first letter. I had no idea you were in the same place I was teaching but was told the teachers could have no contact with inmates. So this began over 10 years of correspondence. See my new blog.
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I've left a comment there.
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I find the Prison Chronicles very informative as I have a good friend going to prison for the first time and hopefully last... The trouble with television accounts of prison is they seem so surely sensationalized ... I believe your account... I want to read an account of what you feared and feared most being there... How you survived as best you could... all interesting to me...
W
Posted by Will Northerner 2 on May 25, 2008 - Sunday at 1:38 PM
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Thanks, Will! You're right about television accounts. Heck, even when TV reporters and cameras came into our prison and filmed us, they didn't tell the whole story. They tried their best, I suppose. But they bring their own preconceptions to it - and the administration only lets them see what it wants them to see - and some inmates (and staff) hide from the cameras while others play to the cameras.
Some of the stuff you want to read will be coming in future blogs, as well as in my book. One problem with the book: there's really too much to tell in one volume - feels like I need several books to tell the whole story well. Like I need to be the prison Proust and never stop writing... lol.
Wishing your friend the best....
I was given this advice while I was in the county jail. It came from a cellie who had been in prison before. He promised I would remain safe and sound if I adhered to these four rules:
1) Don't borrow from anyone.
2) Don't gamble.
3) Don't mess with alcohol or drugs there.
4) Don't mess with the homosexuals.
LOL... those were his rules. And I'm pretty sure he was gay - so he wasn't homophobic, just trying to be realistic. I got the feeling he had learned from experience on all counts.
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So it's not like Oz? The rule isn't "beat someone's ass the first day or be someone's bitch"? Suddenly I feel a little relieved...
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Well, it depends on who your cellmate is...
It's not much like The Wizard of Oz either. Clicking your heels a million times won't get you home. And you better never get caught in a pair of ruby slippers.
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rough times
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But interesting (at least)....
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eye liked the fact that the sentence seemed to hold no fear for him it is hard not to be afraid in jail some people slap the shower shoes in the shower to pretend they are fighting it makes a man pins and needles been there and done that
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Thanks for sharing, my friend!
There was an element of fear, though I tried to remain brave. In some ways, I think I was more afraid before I went, thinking about what might happen, than I was when I actually got there.
A bit of extra context: that this was less than a year after the deadly (and highly publicized) Lucasville riots at another Ohio prison.
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for what is was worth then? or now
eye played BORN DEAD IN OHIO in a band back in the hippy days we had no idea what it meant but the crowd loved it
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"Tin soldiers and Nixon's coming,
We're finally on our own...."
Love that song, but hate what it's about....
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I have a friend that did every day of ten years. And although he did actually have sex with the girl I feel that he was sexually assaulted. He was no pervert, just a man. She tried her damndest to get him (even lying about her age)and once she did she put him away for it. It makes me sick to see someone like that go away for so long when the person who molested me as a 4 yr old BABY is still out there. I finally got to see him a few monthe ago its nice to see him get his life back. This is gonna be a tough one- to read what 10 yrs feels like- cause I know he must've felt it too.
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I very much appreciate you sharing this, Krystika.
It angers me that someone who molested you is still out there. WTF? And at that age! What the hell is wrong with people?!?!
I'm so sorry....
Unfortunately the most guilty often escape punishment for fr too long and the most innocent do not. JFK, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King were all assassinated, while Hitler and Stalin avoided it and were able to kill millions. WTF? Doesn't make a bit of sense to me....
I wish both you and your friend the best....
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I have to wonder how you even survived this. You have one heck of a strong will.
It is unfathomable to me how an innocent person could try to make the best of being incarcerated. I am pretty certain that I would have become bitter and angry and I would probably not come out of that situation as nice a person as you are. My heart goes out to you for all that you have endured. No words can express the sadness I had when reading this and the incredible awe I feel that you have not only survived but you are one of the kindest and most compassionate persons I have encountered in a long while. I truly have no words to describe how I feel, and how truly sorry I am that this happened to you. You are just such an amazing person. I am so humbled to be considered one of your friends. I hope to read more of your experience. Wow, John, reading this give me chills down my spine and has truly touched me. I wish there was some way that I could be of help to you.
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"You are one of the kindest and most compassionate persons I have encountered in a long while." I can say that about you, Susan. A lot of the surviving, I think, wasn't so much a case of specialness or strength on my part as it was something I was able to do because I felt I had no other choice. My other options, suicide and escape, would have only made matters worse - for my family and/or myself. Even today, I feel I am weaker than I like to admit.
You are a tremendous friend and I am very happy to know you.
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What I think right now is that what your incarceration meant for you and your life is of utmost concern for all of us who intend to read anything and everything you write. Please, everyone who reads this understand that MSNBC has a program called LOCKUP that is sensationalizing the whole prison scene.
They are going to have a whole day of prison lockup tapes on Memorial Day I just learned. They show the most horrible criminals and solitary confinement and, personally to me at least, revolting scenes of prison life. The public TV wants to show this and I have no idea why they spend hours and hours showing cells, wardens, criminals who are the worst element in society. We in this country have more than two million people in prison, more than in any other country in this world. How many of us who read this have ever been in a prison or worked in a prison? How many have had anyone you cared for in prison? Some prisons are worst places than hell to be in. Others have caring guards and wardens and better facilities. Ever since I taught in the Grafton prison where John was when he first wrote to me I realized the way the men I taught had to live. And they were the cadre, the best of the whole group in there. I remember a guard who spent an hour talking to me when the men were locked down because someone tried to escape the day before. His job was causing problems with his family and his wife because he had the oversight of too many men and it was so stressful for him
his wife wanted a divorce. I remember walking out of that place thinking of the men I had just taught and realizing how it must be to be locked up every night. I remember one guy who missed class and when I found out why he missed it was because someone tried to rape him and he fought back and for that was put in solitary confinement for two weeks. I love John and will always love him. I have so much compassion for what he went through and for what he has done with his life in spite of it that I must tell you all that he is a survivor of hell. But when he wrote all of this down and is trying to write a book it just might be one of the most important for prison reform that has ever been written. That is what I am hoping. But not just prison reform, a total reform of the sex offender laws and our justice system. This country is absolutely crazy for criminalizing every single sex offense or lie by a minor implicating some one who in the end becomes the victim and spends most of his young life in prison. John is one of the most spiritual and loving people you will ever meet. He was the victim.
The girl, now woman, who accused him is living her life, married I believe and has a child. He is getting his life back and is educated, probably more than most of the faculty I know from my community college. It is self education. I just want everyone to know this. I wish him every success in this world to finish his book and get it published. It is that important!!
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I'm going to read this all a few times before I comment. A lot to take in with all the wonderful...but long comments. Just saying "Hi!" and wish all a happy start to summer!
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Thank you, my friend.
I wish you a happy one as well.
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Well I too hope you do more of these blogs.
I think they are very revealing really. I could sense a number of emotions in what you shared.. you didn't have to spell them all out... you can feel them in how you shared what you shared. So much left unsaid...
I think as Will said... sharing a bit about what prison is really like for an individual living it is for want of a better word, is fascinating... but I would be interested in knowing more about the whole day to day experience. I can't imagine having to negotiate to use a simple thing as a pencil...
. But as Will said TV paints the experience in a very different light.
I myself don't know that I could have survived the experience even from what little you've share in this one blog... there was so much implied.. that you didn't say... that struck me.
Is this hard for you to go through and in a sense re-live all this as you work on your book?
I can imagine it is both depressing and cleansing both... just wondering.
Thanks for doing this.
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It is indeed difficult to re-live - which is one reason a lot of the envelopes are still sealed four years after my release. I've tried several times to go through the boxes - and I can usually only take so much before I abandon them again. I've tried to write the easiest parts of the book, the parts that did not require me to go through most of the journals, first.
It is depressing, but also "cleansing," as you put it.
I didn't think I would be able to survive it either. Fortunately, I was under the mistaken impression that I would probably be out on appeal in six months. That hope (along with the thought of what suicide would do to my family) kept me from just killing myself - and gave me time to realize that it wasn't that bad and could in fact be used for good. (I also rememebered Dostoevsky, who would not have been as powerful a writer without having endured his own misfortunes.) Plus I always thought that at some point I would be vindicated or my alleged victim would tell the truth and then I wouldn't be able to reverse my premature exit from this life. A big influence on me: John Steinbeck's To a God Unknown. I don't want to spoil the story for anyone - but let's just say that after enduring much hopelessness the main character finally gives up and does something irreversable. Minutes after he does that, the thing that he had given up hoping for happens - his dream comes true - and he's gone. If he'd only hung around one more hour!...
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Dostoevsky and Steinbeck and the thousand books you read gave you hope. It gives me chills to think that you actually spent so long locked up and survived to be the person you are today. It is now nearly four years since you were released on parole. What concerns me is that the justice system will just keep criminalizing any kind of sex and especially if it involves a minor and the one who victimized you was a lying and deceitful minor who has to feel guilt for what she did not only to you but to her own mother and to your family. The prosecutor and the judge were stupid and incompetent to believe this girl and the jury was ignorant beyond belief. Yes, it is too late for a re-trial and that will never happen.
It would be so great if you could just forget this whole tragedy that happened to you but the state legislature in Ohio passed Ohio Bill 10 that changed the law for registration of sex offender from once a year for 10 years to once every three months for a lifetime. And registering as a sex offender means you have had to move several times for being too close to a school and not getting a job that wanted to hire you when they did a background check. Yes we live in a country with liberty and justice for all?? Not with the present system.
Where are your civil liberties?
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You confirmed for me my greatest fears of prison. 1) Being cut off from family and friends and 2) Being unable to write and especially read as much as I liked whenever I liked. These are the things that make my panic rise. The more I read your writing and the comments that you inspire, the more I am aware of how lonely it must be to be you. Having been devastated myself, I am surrounded by people who have sympathy for me, but there is not one person who really understands what I have been through, because if you haven't experienced it, you can't possibly hope to know how I feel. I don't know who could hope to know how you feel. I'm sure the people who come closest are your family and your friends, such as Elena, who went through the ordeal with you. I know that Elena has been a great support to you and I hope that others have been also. All too often the people who were "there" would like to leave the past and move on. But can one ever really move on? I know that I have not been able to, even though almost everyone I know assumes that I have and congratulates me on my false 'recovery.'
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As Jimi Hendrix said, "Loneliness is, uh, such a drag...."
I guess I've been luckier than many, in having a pretty strong outside support system and even eventually making a few very good, valued friends in prison (who shared many of my interests and also understand what being in prison while innocent is like firsthand).
As Albert Camus wrote, "No, there was no way out, and no one can imagine what nights in prison are like." In some ways, I haven't really recovered either, though I am capable of making a good show of it.
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Hi John, I read some of the posts and read you were incarcerated in Grafton. If that's Grafton, Oh I think I am headed to the same place because of an incident in a robbery that i went along with which was a dumb decision. Im 19 yrs old and finished my first year in college and came back home and got into some stupid stuff, but fortunatley im looking at 6 months in Grafton and I was just wondering if the place has cells or dormitories, and can you watch T.V. whenever, just curious because im a huge college football fan.
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Welcome to my blog, Mike. I'm sorry to hear about your misfortune. I was indeed in the "reception center" known as Lorain Correctional Institution for three months in 1994 before my transfer to a "parent instution" in Marion for more than ten years. Lorain is all cellblocks... but because of overcrowding, when I was there, the floor areas outside the cells were also filled with bunks, which created a bit of a dorm environment. In your parent institution, which won't be in Grafton (and which you'll end up in about three months after you get your "number"), you'll be able to watch tv almost any time. In Lorain, however, while you're considered a "reception inmate," you won't have a whole lot of access to tv or recreation or books. You'll likely be glad when you get to your "parent institution."
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I'm so sorry you had to go through this! I am impressed by your determination and ability to get through it. *hugs*
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Thank you, Jen.
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Hello John,
Thank you so much for posting these entries. I am both moved and awed. Next time I pick up a pencil, I will think of your courage. Many of us forget how fortunate we are to be free - to have instant access to paper or a book; to have our privacy and liberty. Your words are truly a gift.
Warmest wishes,
Sue
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Thank you, Sue!
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You know I feel some grit in them words partner. They hurt and the Bhagavad-gita gave you strength. What you went through is very difficult for others to understand sometimes. There has to be a context for understanding.
I'd like to see this queried to the CEO & publisher at AugustusPublishing.com. They're hip hop action & street but this seems to be a street inside that's rougher than any outside street could be. Am I right Mr. Boroughs?
Please read my new poem today too. I beg you.
Let me go beg Diane & the rest of the crew too.
I really like this story John. Are we cool?
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Thanks, Joy! We are definitely cool, and I appreciate your kind feedback. I look forward to checking out your poem as soon as I can. Peace!
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