Prison Journal: Day 8,087
September 30, 2009
The last days of the month are difficult for many prisoners and those who love them, because 300 minutes of telephone access just isn’t enough. Prior to the election of George Bush, prisoners did not have a telephone limitation. We could use the phone to call approved numbers whenever we were not locked in our cells. Bush’s more hard-nosed administrators thought our access to telephone needed to be curtailed in the interest of security. Since that decision, we’ve been limited to 300 minutes of telephone access each month.
Even though more than eight years have passed since Attorney Ashcroft’s Department of Justice made that change, I’ve still not gotten used to it. Because of the telephone limitation, I’ve limited myself to calling only my wife. I have to preserve our marriage, and since I’m limited to only one visit per week, I use all 300 minutes to keep our husband-and-wife connection alive. It feels like I’m hanging over a cliff by my fingertips, but each month’s passing brings one hand over the other as I inch to the other side.
At the end of the month, I don’t have any contact over the phone at all. When I dial my wife’s number, an automated message tells me I’ve used all my phone minutes. It’s very disturbing for both Carole and me, worse for my mother and sisters, because I never get to call them.
I had hoped that President Obama would appoint a new Director of the BOP, or I suppose Attorney General Eric Holder would make that appointment. I’d like to see someone in charge of this agency who understood the value of family and community relationships, someone who would recognize the value of telephone access. But we’re more than nine months into the Obama administration, and he’s been too busy with other national and global issues to bring his vision of change to the prisoners who live locked in American prisons.
Either way, tomorrow brings a new month, and when the telephones turn on at 6:05 in the morning, I’ll have a new bank of 300 phone minutes. I’ll splurge with a four or five minute call to Carole, and I’ll call her once again in the late afternoon. We’ll have to budget our minutes over the next 31 days in October, and I’ll try to refrain from burning up too many phone minutes early in the month in order to avoid the pain that comes from not being able to talk with my wife at the end of the month.
Toady I edited chapter eight, then I spent the day writing to people who are working with me in preparation for my release. Envisioning my life as a normal citizen is still challenging, as I can’t see beyond prison boundaries and obstructions, but I need to prepare for my release. This morning I ran 10 miles, increasing my tally to 2,596 miles over the past 292 days.
Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,086
September 29, 2009
The temperatures have dropped in Taft Camp. Yesterday was probably our last day above 90 degrees until next spring. When I went outside to run this morning, I kept my t-shirt on, and I suspect I’ll be wearing a t-shirt or a sweatshirt to exercise in every day until next March or April. I like the desert climate, and I’ll miss the warmth.
I returned to some blogging responsibilities today. This writing for the Web is an important component of my preparations for release. The more influential presence I can build in the blogosphere, the more effectively I’ll be able to support my family through speaking, consulting and writing. I expect to return home within three years, and I will use every day that remains to build resources and strengthen my network through the Web.
The articles I wrote will appear on Change.org, a liberal site with tens of thousands of members. I postponed my weekly contribution earlier this year when I wanted to focus all of my writing energy on the Earning Freedom manuscript. Today I’m closing in on the completion of that project with edits. I expect to submit the manuscript to my literary agent, Jim Schiavone, in mid-October. Once I send the manuscript off, I’ll focus more energy on the blogging.
I ran 10 miles this morning, boosting my tally to 2,586 miles over the past 291 days.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,085
September 28, 2009
I had an opportunity to read an article in the Los Angeles Business Journal today that reported on how law firms are expecting a surge in white collar prosecutions. Most prosecutions will stem from the sub-prime mortgage crisis and frauds that related to the businesses serving that industry. Regardless of the particular criminal charge, most will lead to convictions, and those convictions will lead many to federal prison camps like the one I’m in at this very moment, in Taft, California.
The months before the criminal justice system takes its bite out of white collar offenders are the most important. The decisions an individual defendant makes during those first months will determine the severity of legal expenses, as well as the defendant’s exposure to sanctions. As I read the article, I thought about how unprepared most of those future defendants are at this moment, and how much they could help themselves by speaking with someone who has been ground up by the criminal justice machine. If I could advise them, I’d urge them to contact my friend, Justin Paperny.
Justin graduated from USC to launch a successful career as an investment professional. He worked as an account executive at UBS before one of his accounts that he should have been managing more closely resulted in his prosecution. He served a year at Taft Camp, for a securities law violation, but that year became one of the most productive of his life – he even wrote a book, Lessons From Prison. Anyone facing a white collar crime offense ought to call him, as Justin’s guidance could help those fraud defendants make better decisions.
My writing prospects continue, but they’re different from Justin’s informative book. This morning, at 1:48, I resumed work on the edit of Earning Freedom and worked through chapter seven. That’s now in the mail on its way to my wife. I ran 10 miles, lifting my running tally to 2,576 miles over the past 290 consecutive days. Running without a day off has been one of the most empowering decisions I’ve made and I intend to continue even though my pace slowed measurable this past week.
Monday, 28 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,084
September 27, 2009
Carole, and I visited today and we had the strangest conversation. Perhaps others won’t think it strange, but at this stage in my life, the subject of our conversation was unusual. We spoke about the day that Carole would pick me up, the last day that I would spend inside a prison.
My release date is not imminent. We don’t know how much longer I’ll serve in prison, but we do know that I’m in the last 10 percent of my time as a prisoner. Someday, I’ll wake in a prison rack, shower, and wait for Carole to show up at Taft Camp in order to drive me away from prison so we can begin our life together. We spoke about what we would do on the day I left prison.
In all the years I’ve served, I haven’t thought so much about what I would do when I was released from prison. All of my thoughts have been about preparing for the career I would lead, and it’s a different thing entirely to have reached this final 10 percent of my term and to think that soon, my wife and I will be sharing our life together.
We’re ready. We have the resources and support network in place to ensure that we can take time to explore each other. She will introduce me to the world, and it excites me to begin thinking about exploring a world that may be completely different from what I remember. I could be as many as three years away from my first day with Carole, but when I acknowledge that I’ve passed 22 years as a prisoners, three more years doesn’t seem like much at all. I’m going to begin thinking more about my life away from prison because Carole and I are as prepared as we will ever be.
Before visiting today, I edited chapter six of Earning Freedom, and I ran seven miles. The run boosted my tally to 2,566 miles over the past 289 days.
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,083
September 26, 2009
I’ve been looking at my schedule, and I realize that in a few weeks, I’ll probably have time to resume my blogging responsibilities. Earlier this year I was writing between 20 and 40 blogs each week for the various websites Carole maintains for me. Since beginning my new manuscript, I suspended those activities to focus all of my writing energy on Earning Freedom. By October 15, I expect to submit the manuscript to my literary agent, and when I do, I’ll resume my blogging schedule.
It’s important for me to write daily content for the Web. I’ve kept current with the journal to record my progress as a prisoner, and I intend to keep those efforts up for as long as I remain in prison. Yet I must also write content that will provide readers with a more complete glimpse of prison life. I have a duty to show others how we can live productively inside these boundaries if we choose, and the writing doesn’t have an end.
By keeping this journal, I show readers that even after 8,083 days of prison, I can wake with an irrepressible energy, frequently before 2:00am, and focus on goals that bring meaning to my life. A strong attitude is essential to mastering a prison term, though any prisoners can build upon his strength if he sets a deliberate adjustment strategy. I’ve been doing this for longer than 22 years, but my friend, Justin Paperny, shows how he changed his life while serving a single year in Taft prison camp. Readers ought to check out his book, Lessons from Prison.
Anyway, by November I ought to update these blogs much more frequently. For now I’ll work through my final weeks of editing on Earning Freedom. I ran only six miles today, and my pace was slow. I’ve logged 2,559 miles over the past 288 days, without a single day off.
Saturday, 26 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,082
September 25, 2009
As a long-term prisoner, I sometimes smile when I hear others discussing their theories on penology. This morning I sat in the law library typing responses to a lengthy letter for the lawyers who are working with me. The law library is in a room adjacent to the leisure library and if I ever want to laugh, I can sit in one of the cushioned chairs, pretend that I need to focus on my work, and eavesdrop on the conversations of the dim bulbs around me.
In Taft Camp, we have many well-educated prisoners who hold advanced degrees and who led distinguished careers prior to their confinement, but there are also prisoners who are uneducated, and who should leave the dispensing of advice. As I sat typing the letter to my lawyers, Dan sat beside me. He likes to identify himself as a banker, though I’ve never known bankers who tattoo crudely drawn daggers on their forearms. Dan has a beard, and he walks with a hunch. He has a habit of bobbing his head from side to side, and when he dispenses advice, as he likes to do, he sometimes closes his eyes, as if he has to search through the massive banks of information in his mind.
Today, Dan was advising another prisoner on filing a civil suit against a case manager. According to Dan, the case manager was violating the prisoner’s rights by requiring him to attend GED classes. Dan’s advice was not only absurd on the grounds that the prisoner didn’t have standing to file a lawsuit, but if the prisoner can’t pass the GED, chances are that he lacks the intellect to engage in complex litigation as well. Dan should have been advising the other prisoner that the GED class was a good place for him to further his education. Prisoners like Dan bring trouble.
My strategy for avoiding trouble is to spend as much time alone as possible, and I’m always working toward goals that I clearly identify. Today I began at 1:48 this morning. I edited chapter five, then ran 10 miles. In the afternoon, I typed my long letter for the legal team. I’m ready for bed at 4:30 in the afternoon, and I expect to be asleep before 5:00. My running tally is now 2,553 miles over the past 287 days.
Friday, 25 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,081
September 24, 2009
It’s 2:30 in the morning on Thursday as I write this journal entry for the day. I’m usually editing my work for Earning Freedom or writing new content at this hour. This is the quietest time in prison and I like using it for work that requires complete concentration. The next chapter I’m scheduled to edit is chapter five, a long chapter, and before I begin, I want to discuss with a friend of mine here in Taft Camp. That means I’ll postpone my edit until tomorrow morning and use today to catch up on some of my other writing responsibilities.
A little later this morning, at 9:15, I’m scheduled for a “legal call” with Jonathan, a lawyer who is part of a legal team evaluating my case. The legal team is working on a volunteer basis (pro bono) because they believe in me and feel that the 22-plus years of my imprisonment has served justice – further incarceration is unwarranted and doesn’t serve the interests of our evolving society.
I don’t know what will become of these extraordinary efforts being made on my behalf. As a long-term prisoner, I’m conditioned to the finality of a prison term and long ago accepted the reality that I may serve 26 calendar years. Four more years of imprisonment doesn’t daunt me. I use my time and resources industriously preparing for life upon release. I’m grateful for the blessings I’ve received.
For me, a quiet victory has already come because a team of lawyers discovered my work and came together as volunteers to contribute their time and energy. I’ve not met a single one of the four professionals, yet each has invested hundreds of hours on my behalf. Whether my release date advances or not, I consider it a real privilege to have their generous assistance, and their trust in me inspires me to work harder and to prove worthy of their efforts. I already feel a sense of liberty that reminds me I’m part of society.
Later this morning, at six, I’ll run 10 miles. That run will boost my tally to 2,543 miles over 286 consecutive days.
Thursday, 24 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,080
September 23, 2009
Yesterday I spoke with Carlos, a prisoner who sleeps in a cubicle adjacent to mine at Taft Camp. He is tall and clean cut. Prior to his imprisonment, he worked as a truck driver. Carlos told me that he served two prison terms before; the first term was for one year and the second term was for 30 months. He’s been incarcerated on this offense for four years, and he has four more years to serve.
When I asked him what it was like to get out of prison, Carlos told me it disconcerted him. While in prison, he said that he fell into the habit of the slow, easy pace. He ate meals when the prison scheduled them, he played cards and dominos, watched television addictively. The schedule he created didn’t prepare him well for the challenges he would face upon release.
During his first weeks of freedom, Carlos said he spent time indoors. He didn’t like the visual of traffic or the fast pace of society. After each release, he said that he needed a month to decompress.
Stories like Carlos’ abound in prison, and I learn from them. When people disconnect from society and vegetate through a prison term, they set themselves up for the kind of failure that Carlos experienced on two previous releases from prison. The sad thing is that Carlos isn’t doing anything different with his life now. He continues to watch television, play table games and live in tempo with the prison beat. I try to motivate him, to express the importance of preparing for release, but he can’t muster the energy to think about what challenges he will face after release. All he thinks about is how much more time he has to serve.
Those readers who have loved ones in prison might want to share Carlos’ story. It’s not an unusual one, though it is one with a predictable ending – bringing the offender back to prison. I consider it my responsibility to prepare for a different outcome. Through every day of my journey-longer than 22 years already-I’ve made efforts to prepare for release. I’ve documented most of my activities through this website and through my books. The message I hope readers will find is that success after confinement doesn’t come by accident. We must prepare for success.
I began working at 1:45 this morning. I edited chapter four and typed a lengthy letter for the legal team working on my behalf. I ran 10 miles in the morning, increasing my tally to 2,533 miles over the past 285 days.
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,079
September 22, 2009
I’ve been tutoring Mark, a young prisoner in his early 20’s serving a four-year sentence for credit card fraud. Mark finished high school but he didn’t further his education, and without much ambition he drifted into unskilled labor jobs in convenience stores and fast food restaurants. His meandering existence made a scheme to purchase goods with stolen credit cards feel like an escape.
When I met Mark, he was wasting his time with television and table games, getting fat with a diet of chips, Snickers bars and sodas. I offered to loan him a copy of a book I wrote that describes how other prisoners I’ve known have used their time inside for a better life upon release.
“No matter what I do in here,” he objected, “it won’t make a difference when I go home. I still won’t be able to find a good job, especially in this economy.”
That’s the kind of hopeless statement I’ve encountered from others throughout my 22 years of imprisonment. I feel a responsibility to change those negative perceptions, so I spent some time with Mark explaining the difference between skilled and unskilled labor. If he uses his time here in Taft wisely, Mark can earn an associate’s degree with an emphasis on math courses. Those skills, I explained to him, would enable him to sit through a semester or two of specialized training for the installation of solar panels. It’s a job that brings wages of $30 per hour, or more, and it’s a job that comes with abundant security.
It’s not easy for adults to return to school, especially when they’re simultaneously struggling with the mental complications of confinement. They miss their families and communities. I try to live as an example and an inspiration for my fellow prisoners. Working toward measurable goals and clearly preparing for success has powered me through 22 years of prison. It’s made all the difference in my life.
This morning I began working at 1:45 and I edited chapter three. I ran 10 miles boosting my tally to 2,523 miles over the past 284 days.
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,078
September 21, 2009
I’m very grateful for the privilege of being able to run every morning. This morning I ran 10 miles, boosting my consecutive running to 283 days and accumulating a tally of 2,513 miles during that time. I haven’t taken a day off from running since December 12, 2008, and as I ran my loops around the track this morning, I relished in my good fortune.
In 2007, I spent 65 days locked inside the Special Housing Unit (SHU) at the Lompoc prison. While I was locked inside the SHU cells, I missed my access to the lush, scenic grounds of Lompoc. I used to run every morning while I was in Lompoc camp but only for one hour. When guards locked me in SHU for ridiculous charges related to my writing –false charges that were later dismissed–I exercised in the cell by running in place and doing pushups on the concrete floor.
Here at Taft Camp, I’ve run longer distances than at any other time. I’ve exercised consistently throughout the 22-plus years of my imprisonment but last December I told my friend, Justin Paperny that I would run every day until I reach 1,000 miles. We both thought that was an audacious goal, but after I corssed through 1,000 miles on April 5th of this year, I realized I could keep going. I’ve since raised my target to 7,000 miles. I like setting this clearly identifiable goal, and I’m capable of achieving it. It’s fulfilling to mark my progress, and I’ve come to value time alone on the track.
I still wake to begin my writing before two each morning but when the guard opens the door around six, I’m in my running gear with my dusty sneakers laced and ready. I don’t listen to the radio when I run; the only sound I want to hear is the sound of gravel crunching under my steps or the sound of my breathing. When I’m running, I’m alone, away from prison, thinking of my writing, my responsibilities to prepare for home and how wonderful my life will be when I’m living with Carole.
After my run today, I edited chapter two of Earning Freedom then created a letter that Carole will send through a mail merge to 75 university professors.
Monday, 21 September 2009
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