The first piece of advice I got that was really useful was told to me by an inmate named "pick n roll" who was fast approaching his 10 year anniversary in the system. He told me not to put my hands in my pockets when talking to a guard. And he told me not to ask questions to certain guards. Don't ever give them an excuse to focus their attention on me. So far I have taken that advice to heart.
I made it to Beckley, WV at about 2:30 on Valentine's Day, Monday Feb 14. The prison is actually located in the town of Beaver, West Virginia. I found it quite ironic that by days end I would be surrounded by beaver in a federal prison. Me and my kids and Chip and Liz made the 3 hour drive with no problems, unless one counts the claustrophobic weight of my impending incarceration. Other than that, the drive was pretty typical. Lots of movie quotes, inappropriate sexual innuendo and flatulence that nobody would admit to. Emotionally I was doing alright until we actually drove up to the prison gate itself. Then the realization hit me hard. I knew that I would be hugging and kissing my boys for the last time in a while. The anguish on their faces was crushing. Their worry for me was palpable. I believe that either of them would have taken my place if they could have. And I was desperate to take away their pain, to assure them that all would be okay. But the simple fact was that we were in uncharted territory here, possessing absolutely no useful skills that might help us cope with this unimaginable situation. All we could do was to hold onto each other for a few more minutes.
I talked quietly to them, telling them the truth. This time would be hard for all of us. But like all challenges, if we can make it through to the other side, then we will know that we can survive anything. Through their tears they both vowed to be strong and I knew they would be but I also knew these were the determined words of young men that have yet to be truly tested. I told them to focus on just one day at a time and not to worry about next month or next year. Love each other, protect each other and try not to drive your mom crazy. It felt like they were my little boys again but the fact is that they are young men with genuine problems and responsibilities. And now I am not there for them. That hurts the most. In the instant that I released them from my arms, they had no choice but to grow up. In that one second, our lives changed forever. Now we will either find great strength from hardship or we will crumble and disappear. As with all things though, I do believe that the outcome is within our ability to control.
My first few days here at Beckley have been tolerable. Humiliatingly, demorilizingly tolerable. I am living in the "bubble", an 8 man room filled with the newest arrivals. The bubble is a glass enclosed cage. It is called the bubble because everyone in the building has to walk past it to get to their own space. We are a mix of black and white, young and old, educated and not, guilty and innocent. Some have been in the system for many years and some are first timers like me. There are about 400 inmates here, 200 of them in my building. It is overcrowded by a little more than double the intended capacity. It is busting at the seams.
As far as I can tell so far, prison is all about schedule and routine. With structure comes discipline or so I am told. Structure has never really been my forte. The most pressing of duties here is the "count", which is just what it sounds like. The count happens 5 times per day, sometimes more if the authorities feel like it. We are to stand by our beds silently, while we are accounted for. The "count" serves as the nearly constant reminder that I am powerless and living with the loss of physical freedom. But at the same time, it urges to keep control of my mind, to use the time climb and run mentally since I can't do it physically. My mind is fighting, searching for sanctuary, a safe place to curl up and sleep for a while. But there isn't one right now and there may not be one for a while.
As with pretty much every situation in life, I am slowly meeting a few guys that I hope to learn to trust. It is a fact that prison creates strange alliances. I am finding my way carefully but steadily. I have found myself laughing hard a few times and making others laugh. As always, laughter is the best escape. There is much to learn but plenty of time to learn it. I do have a little space to move around in though, so for the time being, I will just keep RUNNING IN PLACE.
