This was the day I would turn myself in to federal prison—certainly not something I ever imagined doing in my lifetime. I was headed to Coleman Camp, which is part of the largest federal complex in the country. It includes two penitentiaries, a medium, and a low. I had prepared mentally by speaking with others who had been to prison camps and also a doctor who was assigned to the same unit. I found myself in Unit F4.
The R&D (Receiving and Discharge) process was simple and straightforward. We drove to the complex—my father, my Stepmother, my wife, and my son were in the car. It was a 35-minute ride. My daughter chose not to come; she said goodbye at home. The drop-off was too emotional, and I understood—it was hard for all of us.
I received good advice beforehand to have my family wait to take my personal items. At R&D, they issued me three brown pairs of pants, three T-shirts, three collared button-down shirts, and a blue pair of slides.
Initially, I was alone in the R&D office, then three others arrived. Javeer and I were both headed to Unit 4. We walked across the rec yard—new razor wire lined the fences. The buildings are concrete, with red and gray cinder blocks. My bunk, #463, is on the second floor of F4, stacked above F2, and connected by a hallway to F1 and F3.
When I arrived, my top bunk was missing a mattress. The counselor had warned that it better be there—and of course, it wasn’t. My cell-mate seemed hesitant about me staying, suggesting I move to F2 for better job opportunities, but I stood my ground. Eventually, we found the counselor, who put him in check.
Surprisingly, my cell-mate turned out to be helpful. He showed me around and introduced me to people who gave me clothes, hygiene items, and advice. That kindness made my first day more bearable—and reminded me that even in hard places, good people exist!
Trung Nguyen
