POEM by McFreedom:
Have you ever heard a catchy tune
used in a commercial that seemed to stay in your head?
Usually with some kind of a rhyme
that helped you remember what it said?
I received such a rhyme in a
letter.
It reminded me that I had not been
a good updater.
Now I will try to be better.
So here is some news and events
from the camp.
To those who pray and write under
the light of their lamp.
If the law governed rhymes, I'm
sure I would be committing a crime.
So I'll focus on writing about the
news so they don't make me do more time.
We have had some very hot weather here at Camp Elkton. The temps have been in the mid 80's with
heavy humidity at times. The heat has
brought about some good thunderstorms but they never sounded the siren or sent
us into the basement; mostly because there is no basement here. This building is built like a fortress and
the storms seem to blow right through us.
I enjoy watching the lightning while lying on my bed. The wind blows the rain hard against the
window. The trees across the fence bend
in the fury. Some of the thunder is so
intense; I can feel it deep down in the cement floors of the building. I love watching the storms. It reminds me of
God's power and majesty. It reminds that
this is His creation.
The buildings are kept very cold with the air
conditioning. I dress for winter inside
and then have to change again to go out in the heat. You really have to plan ahead here. Over at the Suds and Duds, we share an
air-conditioning unit with a few other departments; Commissary, The Rusty
Scissors barber shop, the Dead End Medical unit and the maintenance
department. This unit quit working
nearly a month and a half ago. Needless
to say, it has been quite hot in these departments making life uncomfortable to
work in. In the Suds & Duds, we have
a roll up garage door that leads to the loading dock, which is left open while
we are at work. This make's life easier
for the boss, who also takes frequent smoke breaks. We often get a nice breeze and we have a fan
on the floor to help when the air is still.
I have not minded the warm temperatures at work as I know how cold the
room gets when the air conditioning is working.
Last summer, I often borrowed a coat from our supply room to keep
warm. The others on my team disagree
with me. They like it cold.
Our boss reported last week that the medical department has
had enough of the heat. One of the staff
over there sent a fiery e-mail bomb and included many people on the send
list. The general message of his
communication was "Come and work in my office for a day." This was sent to all the upper management
including the new warden here and the union representatives. Apparently this caused quite a stir and
prompted some action. That afternoon,
the maintenance team was called in to help install the replacement part, which
had been sitting in the receiving warehouse for a few weeks. The only problem was the part was custom made
and the size was ordered wrong so now they have to do some welding to make it
fit. We expect this to be done after the
4th of July holiday.
The temperatures are not the only things that are
rising. Tempers and attitudes also are
increasing. People are testy and
challenging each other. Some are just
plain ornery. A few even end up fighting.
We don't have many fights here in this laid back prison. Many here are mature and educated enough to
resolve their difference with some good old-fashioned reasoning. Yet we still have fights.
Recently, a classic fight erupted that caught my
attention. There are two men who took
their disagreement to their fists. One
is a skinny black man from the streets of Green Bay and Chicago. The other an overweight white man who was a
truck driver and belonged to a motorcycle gang called the “Outlaws”. Both believed in settling matters with a
fight. One evening I stayed up late
after the 9:30 count to call home to Jeannie.
There was a line to use the phones so I looked into the large TV room
through the window of the door to see what was on the television screens. While watching, I heard the screeching sound
of a 4-person table sliding on the cement floor. I turned my head to see why someone would be
rearranging the furniture at this time of night only to see the two men
described above in a fist fight against the wall trying to stay out of view of
the cameras. Others inside the room seem
to be in shock and stared in disbelief.
The fight turned into a dead lock and it appeared to be a hug fest; both
men unwilling to concede their pride. Meanwhile a crowd gathered around me to
see the action through the safety of the window. There was nobody in blue around to break the
men up. The fight ended naturally on its
own but we all knew it would be a matter of time before some would tell the
cops to review the video in the room.
When the fight ended, I moved to the phones and called Jeannie. I could not speak of this event; as I did not
want to risk becoming a part of the investigation. Two days later, both men where escorted to
the hole. We will likely never see them
again as a fight means you move to a new institution. You may be asking what the reason for this
fight was. It turns out one man believed
he owned the seat at the table where the other was sitting. Yes, it was over a seat in the TV room.
There was another fight that took place another day at
dinnertime. Two men got into a fight
with each other in the yard in plain sight of the Lieutenants office while many
residents waited in line at the Dirty Spoon.
Our unit was still inside the Lodge and some watched through the
windows. Unlike the cameras, this fight
was seen by the staff who reacted quickly and arrested them. This delayed our
meal that night making more people frustrated.
Both men went to the hole and there was no clear reason why these two
men would start a fight in plain view of the Lieutenants office.
Yet another man was sitting on hecklers bleachers at the
softball field and shouting jests and heckles at a player - a very good player
in fact. I believe they have had other
disputes, as this made no sense why he would be so nasty to this one man. The player ran from first home when his
teammate hit a ball deep in the outfield near onto the warning track. He did not stop at home but continued at the
same veracity to the other side of the backstop to confront his mean spirited
heckler. He got nose to nose in his face
and shouted back, encouraging him to fight.
Even to the point of flicking the heckler in the face. Neither budged. It was another cooler headed man who put is
arm around the angry runner and walked him around the bleachers to speak some
sense into him. It was a matter of
moments before the recreation boss would be outside and catch them fighting.
Nothing happened and the game continued.
Residents here who lived in other facilities tell me this
fighting is relatively minor here at Camp Elkton. When men serve longer sentences in higher
security prisons fighting is a way of life.
It is the means to settle a dispute, to prove one's dignity and honor,
to demand respect. I am thankful that we
do not have to live by fighting here.
Fighting may appear to give a man honor but it is a false and
short-lived honor. A wise man doesn't put himself into a position to fight and
uses reason to prevent a fight.
Just as the 4th of July holiday rolled in so did a welcome
cold front to cool down the air and dry up the humidity. It seemed to cool off some of the attitudes
as well. People are still getting on
each other's nerves at times, including mine.
I have to fight to keep my own attitude in check, which has been more of
a daily occurrence. I need to watch my
own words and be more loving toward my fellow residents. This is often hard to do.
Just the other day, I was frustrated by a man (I think he is
man). He lives on the other side of the Lodge and is technically not supposed
to be on our side of the lodge. Yet he spends a lot of time here as his “boy
friend” lives over here. Both are very
open and flagrant about their homosexual relationship. Even the gay men whom I am a friend with are
embarrassed by their behavior. The man
who lives on the other side is self-nicknamed "Cat". The other day Cat was sitting at one of the
four computers we have for 150 men. One
of them has been broken for a couple of months so we usually have a line to use
the three remaining computers. I was
angered at the fact that Cat was using one of our computers, and I also know
that the system is designed to prevent us from logging onto a computer that is
not in our housing unit. So I went up to
Cat and confronted him, asking why he was sitting at our computers. I told him that he does not belong on this
side of the building as it is clearly posted and that he is not allowed to use
our computers. I was upset but not
shouting. Maybe it was his excessive
juvenile behavior that irritated me the most.
He replied that he was using his boyfriend’s account to listen to music
samples. This is yet another violation
of the rules; one which could get him
sent to the hole and possibly another charge added to him. He did not seem to care that he faced such
risk and gave a confounded look as if he was shocked that I dared to confront
him.
Although my words were strong and commanding I did not do
anything beyond challenge him and ask him to leave. Nothing more than was said
or done. However, my heart was in the
wrong place. I allowed my anger to
control me and I reacted. I don't
believe it was the heat that got to me but more the temptations that Satan used
to get me to react to this frustration.
This may seem minor to us but it is not minor to God. He treats anger as he treats murder (Matthew
5:22). I wonder if the other gentlemen
who took their anger to fist fights ever knew how God felt about our
anger? In addition to this, I had to ask
myself how others see me. Do they see
the love of Jesus in my actions and me?
I know that day they didn't. More
importantly, how does God see this behavior?
It is difficult to live a Christ-filled life, filled with
love, when you are surrounded by a few evil people. Some are simply not too bright or have some
psychological disorder but it is hard to tell the difference at times. I should
know better and not let this get to me.
I wish I were somewhere else but I know that I cannot escape the evil of
this world until I die or Jesus comes back for us. Instead, this has driven me to spend more
time in prayer and study of God's Word.
It is here that I find comfort knowing I am not the first person to
endure this corrupt and evil world. I
also know that I have the power of the Holy Spirit to overcome the evil around
me. But it is me that needs to pick up
the armor of God. It is me that needs to
take the high road and be the better man. It is me that needs to pursue a more
Holy life.
I stopped in the chapel library, which is rarely open. I had to ask the chaplain to unlock the
cabinets so I could look through the books.
He was kind enough to do so and I found a little book that I have heard
about but never read. "The Pursuit of Holiness" by Jerry
Bridges. I am reading a couple of
chapters a day to digest the truth of living out the Holy life God has called
us to live. I reflect my attitudes to
others and my outburst and realize that I can't do this alone. It is times like this when we really need to
spend time in prayer and scripture! This
book is helping to remind me of this truth.
Now it is time to just do it.
The long holiday weekend turned out to be very nice. The weather was more comfortable and tempers
seemed to calm down. The recreation
department set up several tournaments and competitions to change up the routine
for everyone. The first and most
noticeable was the softball tournament called rotation. The premise is that every time the defending
team made an out, everyone in the field had to rotate positions. For example; when an out was made, a player
in the left field position would have to run to the infield and play
catcher. The one playing catcher would
move to third base, the third baseman would become the short stop. I am sure you get the idea by now. This forces players to run more and also to
play positions they may not be good at.
It makes for some hilarious plays!
The bleachers behind the backstop were filled with hecklers
who shout all sorts of demeaning comments as they attempt to make their debut
as a comedian. For this reason we call
this "Heckle Field". Many of
these games seem to go on forever with no hope of ending. They have a mercy rule to help but even that
is not enough. The mercy rule will end
the game if one team is leading by 15 runs by the end of the third inning. We had a speed record of thirty minutes for a
team to pummel their opponent. It was
really sad to watch but there were many funny moments in the short-lived
exhibition.
There were other tournaments as well. Some were basketball games, card games,
darts, bocce ball, Frisbee toss and one of the funniest of them all was the
dizzy bat race. I have participated in
this relay in the past but mostly at a picnic for fun. Who would ever imagine that this would be
played in a federal prison with convicted felons? This event was hosted on the soccer field and
had many participants. I am happy to say
that I was NOT one of them. I enjoyed
some good belly laughs watching this race.
Friday lunch was our big feast. They brought the charcoal grill down and the
kitchen workers grilled the flat patties of hamburger meant and roasted one
side of the hot dogs. We had baked beans
with no rocks, corn (without the cob), coleslaw, pasta salad, watermelon
slices, and ice cream. I gave away my
two cups of ice cream and received an extra watermelon slice although I was
unable to eat them both. I ate my
hamburger but put my hotdogs in a used coffee bag I brought with me so I could
eat them for dinner. I heated them up by
double bagging them and submersing them in a tub of hot water. I took them out and brought them to Heckle
field to watch the next game. For a few
moments, I felt like was at the Twins game with my Dad eating steamed hot
dogs. Others around me were jealous of
my idea. I may have found a new
hustle. Afterward, I purchased a
raspberry “cheesecake” with a dollar stamp from a guy who makes them from time
to time. You would be amazed at the
creative prison food made by residents.
The reuse the foil mini pie tins we had from the holidays to make
these. They are lined with a graham
cracker butter crust and then filled with cheesecake made from non-dairy
creamer and a little milk. The raspberry
comes from the raspberry kool-aid that is handed out for winning softball
tournament games. It was a very
delicious and sweet. A very nice treat!
There wasn't much to see for fireworks as we are inside the
building and away from any large community that could afford such an
event. I think our fireworks display, to
celebrate our independence from governments that oppress are misguided. We left the oppression of one government and
created a bigger government, which is even more oppressive in different ways. That is as far as I will go on politics here
in prison. The rest of the weekend was
rather serene and relaxed. Attitudes
improved and people simply had fun. Many
of the staff were new faces that we had not often seen before, as I am sure
there were many that were on vacation with their families. Still, they were easy to get along with.
Monday came around and it was nice to get back to our daily
routines. Three-day breaks are often
just what is needed. Much more than that
and it would be too long.
That is how it is here at the camp - your tax dollars at
work, keeping your streets safe tonight.
McFreedom (back in the writer’s chair!!!)
