Today is considered a holiday. There were lots of outdoor activities planned; however, I did not participate. I was very sore from playing 2 games of softball yesterday. JP, my next-door neighbor, gave me some aspirin to ease the pain. A couple of days ago, there were 2 or 3 guys trying to find me some size 10 sneakers. A guy who lives in “B” block, “J”, has been helping me get some much-needed items as I have only those items that were issued at the front gate.
Commissary was last Monday, and I came aboard on Tuesday, of course. People, especially my roommate, have been very generous to me, giving me food, deodorant, toothbrush and holder, and necessary clothing like sweatpants/shirts, shorts, tee shirts, etc. The guy from “B” block found me some sneakers, but they were in rough shape. The guy who was selling them wanted $18 worth of stamps. He let me try them for the day, hence the softball games, but I slipped all over the infield in those dilapidated sneakers. I offered $15 because I couldn’t bear wearing those boots that gave me blisters much longer. It seems that they guy was firm on his price, so I gave them back, hoping that the commissary had my size. The other reason I gave them back was that I could barely walk. The muscles in my legs were screaming and I now I would be our of commission for the next few days.
I tried to get into the phone system today to make some calls to Ihla and Mom, sisters, etc. Most of my contacts that I put in TruLinks were accepted, so I thought I could call out. Of course, the phone and computers were down until 11:00 for some reason, so I wandered aimlessly around for most of the morning. After the phones came back online, there was a long line of inmates waiting to use the phone. Finally it was my turn, however, as luck would have it, I was denied access to the system. After several tries, I asked for help, but to no avail. I was directed to the Unit Manager’s office to see if they could help. It seems that the one person who could have helped me walked right past me when I entered the office where she was supposed to be. The gal sitting in her office informed me, after I explained what I needed, that the other guard who just left the office was the one I needed to talk to. WEll, I didn’t get access today
again.
I headed over to the computer room, but those were down most of the day, so I went out to the exercise yard where teams were forming for basketball and softball. I was asked to play, but I had no shoes to wear (boots only), and I was too sore anyway. I watched the activities unfold and then came in to use the computers. I finally obtained access and opened my saved email to Teresa. I had used 2 sessions of email time to write my first day’s journal. I did a few edits and spell check and hit OK. I didn’t notice the 2nd message, and hit “Yes”. The message was either set or deleted! It is no longer in my draft box.
After the call and chow tonight, I decided to write this journal. I tried to read, but kept on falling asleep. My roommate gave me some coffee, and that gave me a jolt. I’m kinda wired now, and hope it wears off before lights out.
Earlier today I made my first commissary checklist. I only have $180 to spend, so I won’t be getting a whole lot of items. The sneakers are $70, about half of the spending limit. I need a watch–$30, socks, tee shirts and a few other essentials. The cost adds up quickly, so I’ll have to wait two more weeks to get food and drinks, and hopefully be able to pay back people for the items they gave me.
If the email that I wrote to Teresa was deleted, I’ll probably send her all the journals the I’ve written to date in hopes that she’ll transcribe them and send them to interns@prisonprofessionals.com for upload to my story page. I’m running our of paper to write on, and I’m using the back of my medical records to document my journey. Hopefully on Monday I’ll get a pen and paper to write on.
I met a guy across the hall from me who works in the commissary who says that he thinks he has the size10 sneakers I’ve been looking for in inventory. I can’t control myself with the thought of such a simple thing as a pair of sneakers. In this environment, you either make due, or do without. We are all poverty-stricken, so what message does this send to the inmates? This is supposed to be the land of plenty, yet even the basics are hard to come by. Once poor, always poor mentality; poor outlook on life. There’s no rehabilitation at all in prison. The buildings are in poor shape, food is third-world-class, prisoners are treated with little to no respect, pay is less than child labor rates. There are so many things wrong, it’s hard to figure out where to start. You’d think that $75 billion dollars would be managed so much more efficiently, but I guess it’s just another government program failure, sucking taxpayers dry. Just as I was writing this journal, a guard came in to harass an inmate. Apparently, the CO didn’t like the fact that the inmate hung his clothes on hangers and hung them from his bed. The lockers and, for that matter, the rooms/cubicles are not properly sized for two inmates. Now the guard will search the entire room, turning it upside-down for this violation. I wonder now if my thoughts and comments will be erased from these letters.
There was a prayer meeting this evening in the hallway near my room. I was impressed with the number of inmates that showed up–both Spanish and English speakers. Several people read bible verses in both languages. Very uplifting. I need to get involved in this prayer group, as the Holy Spirit is speaking to me.
