Two years ago today I was locked in the SHU at Lompoc. SHU stands for Special Housing Unit, though those in prison refer to the SHU as the hole. Administrators had locked me in the SHU because they suspected that I was using a word processor to type manuscripts. I had indeed used the word processor, though I had done so with my staff supervisor’s knowledge and awareness. The investigators didn’t believe me because they said a prison staff member would not authorize an inmate to use a government word processor to type personal work. I pointed them to files showing that I not only typed my manuscripts, but also typed personal work for my staff supervisors who had authorized my use of the word processor.
Those records resulted in authorities from a higher level exonerating me from all wrongdoing. The incident resulted in my spending 65 days locked in the SHU, then my transfer from Lompoc to the camp at Taft.
I struggled with some anxiety during my time in SHU, as I didn’t know where administrators would send me or what sanctions they would impose. Mostly I worried about my wife, as I knew the tighter restrictions on me would make her life difficult.
We had adapted as a prison family and we had grown accustomed to the challenges of my confinement. While in the general population I was able to call Carole for a few minutes each day and we visited every Saturday and Sunday. In the SHU I would not have access to the telephone and we were limited to one visit per week.
To cope while I was locked in the tiny cell I exercised each day. I ran in place for one hour every day and I did 300 pushups on the floor of the cell. I read several books, I slept, and I prayed. Some people describe the SHU as a horrible experience, but over the years I’ve grown more conditioned to solitude.
If I could have access to better running or exercise conditions, a writing table that came with a chair to sit, and more access to my wife, I would prefer to serve the remainder of my sentence alone. The solitude doesn’t bother me. I prefer the silence and alone time. That solitude could enable me to think more about what to value in my future and enjoy my writing time.
I create that solitude as best I can here at Taft Camp while enjoying the excellent recreation privileges, access to telephone, and more liberal rules of personal property. I would not object to concluding my sentence from this camp, though I continuously remind myself that administrators may order a change for me at any time. I will feel more secure in 2011, when I will be much closer to the completion of my prison time.
This morning I ran 10 miles, lifting my tally to 1,192 miles over the past 135 consecutive days.
Sunday, 26 April 2009
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