It’s amazing how different these facilities can be, in so many ways. Grady County jail made the Pulaski County jail look almost like a resort. We got processed in and to our pod in late evening. These units were a bit more cramped, with probably 40 men per pod, triple bunks, one TV, one phone, one digital kiosk, two toilets and two showers. The food here was terrible, and dinner every night was four slices of white bread, two slices of bologna, a yellow mustard packet, and a piece of sweet cake bread, all wrapped in cellophane. Every night! There were no windows, no recreation time, no outside, and no laundry. We had to wash our clothes in the shower and line dry it.
This was a rougher population than at Pulaski, and the one place that I had a couple instances where I did not feel safe. On my second or third night in the first pod, a new man arrived that was overweight and who had severe sleep apnea and snored like a freight train. He was not as loud and not as apneic when he was on his side, but on his back it was terrible. And he was right above me. So one night I banged on his bunk to try to get him to roll over. The next day he and several of the other inmates approached and threatened my life. I requested a pod change!
The second pod was about the same and was fine at first. There was an empty bunk that had a bunch of books on it. Reading was the only thing I did all day, so I thought this was great. Until I started reading a book that apparently belonged to one of the other inmates, and I didn’t ask if I could read it. He got in my face and took the book. I went over and apologized, not really understanding how I would have known or what I should do differently. Well, not long after that I had a similar instance. Several of the guys were transferred out early one morning, and they had to leave all of their commissary items behind, most of it was spread out on the tables. I tended to always be the first one to wake up and found an abandoned bag of coffee on a table. So, I took a scoop and made a cup of coffee. Bad idea! Soon after that, one of the men came over, kicked me, and took some of my stuff. Then he dragged my mat and blankets over to the secure door and told me to call the guards and get out of the pod. Gladly! At Pulaski County, anything on the tables was shared and fair game for everyone. I learned that was one of the many things that may differ from place to place, and after the book and coffee episodes I would never assume anything was shared or fair game.
My third pod ended up being fine. This entire facility had a handful of Native Americans, but this pod had quite a few, and several were older. It was a peaceful pod, despite the ongoing line for the phone and messaging system. I read a lot, and was blessed to find a bible that I could claim while I was there. OKC was known as a transfer location, not a destination. Almost everyone there, except the Native Americans, was awaiting transfer somewhere else. Nobody knew when or where they would go. Finally, the morning of Aug 27, my name was called and it was time for another bus ride, to the OKC airport…
