Harmony School, 1994, Page 21

Description: As we taxied down the runway, my mind raced back to other more pleasanttrips I had taken to wonderful places. At this point, the stewardess wouldgive the safety instructions...! knew if this plane crashed, there wouldnot likely be any survivors, just a mangled maze of chained corpses. I putthat thought out of mind, and prayed a prayer that God would keep this oldbird up in the air. There are so many horror stories of the terribleconditions these planes are in. One inmate swore to me he talked to amechanic who works on them, and he said the oil is always leaking out ofthe hydraulics.After taking off, a small bottle of water was passed out to each of us onthe plane. I learned not to drink the water in many foreign countries, andcould not bring myself to drink this from an unknown prison source. Theman across the aisle was very thirsty and wanted it, so I gave him my waterand later my bag lunch. Throughout the day, we made many stops at manyprison towns, dropping off inmates and picking up others. Late thatafternoon, we arrived at El Reno, Oklahoma. El Reno has the reputation ofbeing the one prison that you dont want to go to, every prisonersnightmare. Stories of roaches crawling in your ears and mouth and up yournose and inmates cramped together side by side on cots with birds flyinginto the prison through broken windows and defecating on you, I wasbeginning to realize I was going to get the full diesel treatment. As weneared the hangar area, I could see the dull prison buses with their barredwindows waiting for us. It was a long trip from the airport to the prisonwhere we sat two more hours in our buses waiting for other inmates ahead ofus to be processed in. When it was finally our bus turn, we were marchedto a concrete pad and made to stand, facing what looked like Draculascastle to me, complete with the infamous broken windows I had heard so muchabout. After another count, we were moved inside to a large narrow bullpenholding cell with backless benches and one lone commode and sink in thecorner. Prisoners from many prisons were pressed together, plus a secondbullpen jammed with hot and sweaty inmates was next to ours, separated onlyby a wire mesh. Everyone was talking at the same time and it seemed to methey were all talking about me. I thought for sure this was the night Iwould be killed, raped and beaten. All the nightmares I had about prisonwere coming true. The prisoner next to me kept jumping up and down,telling me he was Satan, and I thought any moment he would slam his chainsaround my neck. One of the other inmates told me this man had tried tokill a building full of people by locking the doors and setting thebuilding on fire. A delegation of inmates on Terre Haute began to sharesome stories of how dangerous life was there. I began to wonder if I wasgoing to be assigned to sleep tonight in the famous cot room where thecots are jammed side by side and the birds fly over your head. But, mostof all, I wondered if I would be murdered by one of my fellow-travelers whojust wanted to make a name for himself.The middle door clanged open and the guard ordered us to file out to haveour chains removed, and then we were told to take off all of our clothesexcept our undershorts. Brown paper bag lunches were passed out to each ofus. I ate the apple and decided to trade my mystery meat sandwich to thebiggest, toughest inmate in the bullpen in exchange for bodyguard service.He seemed pleased that I put confidence in him and let me know that no onewould harm me as long as he was around. One of the men decided he wantedmy autograph on his travel papers...! was happy to do so...and othersfollowed suit. Soon inmates in the other bullpen began rolling theirtravel papers pencil-thin and slipping them through the wire mesh for me tosign. Suddenly, I began to realized what a funny sight this was...me in myunderwear, signing autographs in this dungeon of a prison. Ive also justrealized how long this letter has gotten and Im not finished with tellingyou of my first day of my trip to Jesup, Georgia.
Source: http://cdm17129.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/hs-harmony/id/1780
Collection: Harmony School

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