Prison Journal: Day 8,368
July 8, 2010
Many prisoners I meet struggle with their separation from family. When they hear that my marriage to Carole took place in a prison visiting room longer than seven years ago, some ask how we keep our love alive without physical intimacy. The answer to me is simple, and it would be the same answer even if we were allowed more physical intimacy: love requires work, marriage requires nurturing. Carole and I work at ours every day.
Strengthening my marriage and growing my love for Carole demands the same daily attention as anything else worthwhile in life requires. To stay on course, I follow the same steps I’m writing about in one of my new manuscripts. The steps begin with attitude. I am 100 percent engaged in cultivating a rich, everlasting marriage that I will work to fill with romance, passion, and commitment. I don’t waver, and Carole sees this attitude in everything I think, say, and do. That is a start.
The positive, 100 percent attitude leads to my aspirations. I aspire to provide Carole with a sense of fulfillment. I want her to live with certainty that I work every day to become the best husband I possibly can. I pledge to her my every breath, all that I am today and all that I will ever become. I aspire to provide her with a sense of joy, of honor in being my wife, to give her comfort and security and stability, to respect and cherish and adore her.
Such aspirations guide all of my actions. Whenever an opportunity surfaces to show Carole my love, I seize it. When opportunities don’t surface on their own, I create them. In time I expect to monetize my work, contributing value to the lives of others in a way that will bring stability to our family. I exercise every day, setting clearly-defined fitness goals and disciplining myself to exceed them. I write of my love to Carole every day, always expressing my respect and appreciation for her. I thank God for blessing me with this love and empower myself by taking those actions.
I invite Carole to hold me accountable to the goals I set for our family. By doing so, I create an awareness in our marriage—for both of us. For me that means making myself aware of steps I can take to relieve Carole of stress that comes with being a prisoner’s wife. For Carole, the accountability issue means that she can always see that despite my limitations I strive to live as all I pledged to her—as the best husband I can be.
This five-step process I follow allows me to achieve the marriage I want to build with Carole, but it’s never complete. Every day I work to make it better, to prove worthy of her love. Our thriving marriage is not an accident; it’s a testimony to the work that both Carole and I put into it every day. That’s how we keep our love alive through my lengthy prison term, and the work will continue even when physical intimacy becomes a new dimension for us to enjoy.
Ran 10 miles / 5,112 miles over 573 days
1000 pushups / 74,000 pushups in 2010
**To my lovely step-daughter, Nichole: Happy 19th birthday, we are so very proud of you!**
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,298
April 29, 2010
Last Sunday I enjoyed a four-hour visit with my friend Dr. Sam Torres. It’s a privilege for me to have friendships with societal leaders like Dr. Torres, and it’s one that I value. During our visit, however, Dr. Torres cautioned my optimistic expectations for release. That sobered me, and although his admonitions come from a wealth of experience, I’ve been troubled ever since leaving the visit.
One of the reasons I admire Dr. Torres is that–in addition to his experience as a professor of criminal justice at CSU-Long Beach–his resume includes a full career as a federal probation officer. In 1995 Dr. Torres retired from the U.S. Probation Department to teach. Now that I am moving through the final 10 percent of my imprisonment, I’m thinking constantly about how I must position myself for a seamless transition to society. He’s an excellent resource for my questions about what to expect upon release.
Perhaps it’s ridiculous to think about a “seamless transition” after a quarter century of imprisonment. But I feel better prepared than any long-term prisoner I’ve ever met. My plan for release began the day I walked into prison, and the record I’ve built is well documented. Upon my release I have speaking invitations that await me from across the United States. My wife is a licensed nurse. We have savings to meet my anticipated expenses upon release. Besides all of that, Carole has helped me build an incredibly impressive support network while I served 8,298 days in prison. It is for these reasons that I expressed confidence to Dr. Torres about my ability to walk out of prison from a position of strength, ready to contribute to society in meaningful ways.
But as he listened to my preparations, he told me that it might be a bit overwhelming for my probation officer to accept. Probation officers are not used to receiving prisoners like me, he said, and the probation officer might want me to start slowly by taking a job—“He might want to make sure you’re not dealing dope again.”
After all the well-documented work I’ve done, and the quasi-career I’ve built, and the massive network ready to support and sponsor my release, I thought I had moved beyond castigations over the bad decisions I made in my early 20s. But according to what I heard from Dr. Torres, I should expect that others will always judge me for the crimes I committed at 21, 22, and 23 rather than the man I’ve become over the 23 consecutive years I’ve served in prison.
I’ve begun making adjustments to my plans as a consequence of what Dr. Torres told me. He should know what I will face, and I would be foolish not to listen.
Ran 7 miles / 4,470 miles over 503 days
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,281
April 12, 2010
What is the secret for nurturing a loving marriage through a long prison sentence? That question challenges me every day. In 2002, I was blessed with Carole’s love. She has been the most magnificent wife, enriching my life in every way. Through her I’ve enjoyed the illusion of freedom because she has walked through so many days of imprisonment with me. Whenever the prison system has disrupted my life with transfers or other difficulties, Carole has been right beside me. Together we’ve built a life, but the importance of nurturing our love stays on my mind every day.
The separation that imprisonment inflicts hurts the family much more severely than it hurts the prisoner. I know that I must serve my sentence, but over time I’ve come to accept that I will serve the term in its entirely. Living inside buildings of concrete and steel has become normal for me—as normal as the breaths I take. I’ve been a prisoner for so long that I cannot imagine what it would feel like to live in society. All that I look forward to is the time I can share with my wife, yet I know the responsibility is mine to work continuously to keep our love growing.
While I serve time for the bad decisions of my early 20s, my wife endures the pain voluntarily because of her love for me. We’ve been apart more in 2010 than we have since we first married because of the limited visiting opportunities at Taft Camp and the demands associated with Carole’s schedule. I’m committed to supporting her in every way possible, but the distance between us challenges us both. I miss her every day.
I don’t know whether a single answer exists to the question of how to nurture a marriage through imprisonment. For me, to keep the love growing I know that I must work every day, to give my every breath and thought to Carole. She means more to me than anything else in this world, even my liberty. I’ve learned over the past 8,281 days to live without freedom, but I wouldn’t want to learn to live without Carole’s extraordinary love.
Each morning I begin my work before two. I keep a photograph of Carole and me in my notebook. She inspires me to spend hours writing content that will contribute to the career I am building for whenever release comes. I exercise every day to maintain tip-top physical conditioning, another commitment I made to my wife. Other than completing my responsibilities as a prisoner and contributing to the Taft prison community in small ways, I devote the rest of my energy to preparing for the life I want to enjoy with my wife upon release.
By writing her every day and by sharing my life with her in every way possible, our marriage has remained strong and growing for eight years. But I understand that every day of my imprisonment challenges her with loneliness and the difficulties that accompany my separation from her. Prison has become the only life I know, but without Carole my life would lose meaning. That’s why I’ll never stop trying to keep our love growing every day.
Ran 10 miles.
[consecutive running log: 4,315 miles over 486 days]
Monday, 12 April 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,274
April 5, 2010
Rolando has been serving time with me in Taft Camp for the past two years. He’s in his mid-thirties and I understand that he expects to serve four more years. Today he asked me to help him write a letter to his wife, and it was a difficult letter to write.
Rolando had a visit from his wife yesterday. She drove up from Los Angeles to tell him that she needed to move on with her life. That was the kind of news that no prisoner—that no man who loved his wife—wanted to hear. He was broken up inside and he approached me for counsel. It was not easy for me to dispense.
I have been blessed with a rich marriage. Carole has been working through this prison term with me for longer than 8 years. She has moved to New Jersey, to Colorado, and to California in order to live close enough so that we could make maximum use of my visiting opportunities. Carole has been my link to the world, completely dependable in assisting with the development of my career, the achievement of my goals. I may have served a longer prison term than any human being should have to bear, but because I’ve been blessed with Carole’s love, I feel fulfilled. That sense of completeness with Carole frees me.
I feel a heavy sorrow for others who suffer. Family struggle, perhaps, brings the worst kind of pain to bear. I’ve known scores of prisoners who have felt deserted by their wives, but in reality, it is we as prisoners who have made decisions that resulted in our wives having to struggle through life alone.
While the prison system coddles us with three meals each day, bedding, clothing, access to health care, opportunities to exercise, learn, and grow as individuals, our wives must pay bills and cope with the loneliness. Carole has been a blessing for me, though I know that imprisonment has been much harder on her than anything I’ve experienced.
When I spoke with Rolando today, I explained how I feel about my wife. I try to anticipate the difficulties of her life and then do whatever is within my power to help. She is my inspiration to work hard every day—and I always value her stability ahead of my own comfort. Besides that, I never miss an opportunity to tell Carole how much I appreciate her, how proud I am to have her as my wife, and how much I love her. Those are the reasons, I explained to Rolando, that our marriage has blossomed despite my lengthy imprisonment.
Rolando sat beside me as I offered suggestions that he might express to his wife. My hopes, of course, were that he and all men could build a marriage as rich as the one I enjoy.
Today I ran 8 miles.
[consecutive running log: 4,250 miles in 479 days]
Monday, 5 April 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,220
February 10, 2010
When considering all the holidays we celebrate each year, I’m aware of the special meaning that Valentine’s Day has for me. Certainly, Valentine’s Day is the holiday I look forward to most. This day of romance intensifies my feeling of good fortune at having Carole’s love in my life.
Although I’ve known Carole since 1975, when we were ten, our relationship began around Valentine’s Day of 2002. Every February since has brought gratitude and a sense of urgency as I contemplate what more I can do to prove worthy of all that she means to me. Writing thousands of love letters, all multiple pages in length, will never suffice to express the infinite ways that Carole inspires me. I’ve written those letters—and I will continue writing of my love to her privately—but Carole deserves so much more than I’ve given. I’m eager to give more.
Each Valentine’s Day that passes brings us closer to my release from prison. Once I’m home and living with Carole, memories from the thousands of days and nights we spent apart will compel me to show her how I appreciate her. Instead of telling her through written words, I’ll show her by touching her, by holding her, by kissing her.
We don’t know how many more Valentine’s Days will separate us but after the holidays that have passed since 2002, and after this Valentine’s of 2010, we know that at worst we have three more until we celebrate together. I’m feeling closer, more eager to show her rather than tell her how I love her.
This proximity of my release date encourages both Carole and me. I have linked my life to her in every way possible. We are connected through my work, through my network of support, and through the career I will build upon release. When release comes, she will see how our marriage and love defines who I am. And rather than waiting for the magic of Valentine’s Day to express how grateful I am for her love, I’ll create ways to show her through every day.
Our love through the struggles of imprisonment has not been kept alive by luck or by accident, and growing our love through the ages will require continuous effort I look forward to devoting every day. Loving Carole is the essence of my life and I look forward to February and Valentine’s Days as reminders of how fortunate I am.
When the doors open this morning, I’ll go to the track for exercise. I intend to run 10 miles. I’m not sure whether I’ll return for strength training as I’m scheduled for a meeting that will take place after my run. I’ll report my pushup tally in tomorrow’s blog entry.
[consecutive running log: 3,776 miles over the past 425 days]
Wednesday, 10 February 2010
Prison Journal: Day 8,138
November 20, 2009
Before sleeping each night I read at least one passage from the Bible. I’m not deeply religious as most people would measure that term–I don’t attend worshipping services or participate in prayer groups. By reading passages of the Bible every night, and thanking God for the blessings bestowed upon my family, I strengthen my spirit. Last night, after concluding a book from the New Testament, I turned back to the book of Genesis to read the passage of Jacob, the brother of Esau. I wanted to read about his dream of the ladder.
That passage of Jacob’s ladder reminds me somewhat of this journey I’m on in prison. In Jacob’s case, he had to flee from his family and he was separated for more than 20 years before his return home. Like Jacob, I feel as if I’m climbing a ladder, with each day bringing me another rung closer to the top, when I’ll leave prison forever and return to my family.
After more than 22 years, of course, my family has changed in significant ways. Both my grandfather and my father have passed away. My youngest sister, Christina, has two daughters, one of whom is in her junior year at Florida State University, and the other is in junior high, but my imprisonment has rendered me a stranger to Christina’s family. My older sister, Julie, also has a family of her own, but because of the prison’s visiting and telephone restrictions, I only connect for a few hours each year. My mother lives in Florida and the thousands of miles between us along with the decades I’ve served, keep me on the periphery. My only real connection with the world is Carole, my wife, and although I take another step closer to her every day, until my release we must make the most of any time prison authorities authorize us to spend together. Carole has joined me on this ladder, climbing one step closer to our beginning each day.
In 52 days, Carole will resume nursing school until the end of 2010. If I’m still in prison when she graduates, I may request a transfer to a prison that will allow us to visit more frequently than once each week. Even though we’ve been climbing this ladder together for eight years, I can sense that prison is wearing on my wife, and we need to strengthen our connection with more frequent visits.
Before my visit with Carole this morning, I had a light exercise session, running only three miles and not following with any strength training.
[consecutive running log: 3,050 miles over the past 342 days]
Friday, 20 November 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,107
October 20, 2009
Seven years ago today I was enjoying my first week of visiting with Carole. She was living in Oregon, then, and I was in Fort Dix, New Jersey. We had been corresponding for months, but on 17 October 2002, she came to visit me for the first time.
During the years that we’ve passed together since then, Carole and I have built a wonderful life. That may seem strange to some readers, but not to us. During the hours we’ve shared together, we’ve sown the seeds for a lifetime of romance and happiness.
When I reach these days of October, I always look back to how quickly the time has passed. We’ve had our struggles with prison complications, but our love has never wavered, and we’ve succeeded in growing closer in spite of our challenges. I like looking back, because it gives me some conception of how much closer I’m coming to my release.
It doesn’t seem so long ago that Carole and I shared our first kiss, and I still remember it clearly. I recently wrote it in my manuscript, and it seems I remember every visit we’ve shared since then. That comforts me, because I know that if I project myself seven years forward, I will be home and living together with her, and prison will be a part of our past.
Today I spent time thinking about our future, and I thought about what more I can do. Carole asked me today what my next project will be. I have to wait for word on how my agent and the publisher respond to my new manuscript. Once I have more finality on that project, I’ll decide. For now, I’m spending a lot of time thinking.
I ran 10 miles this morning, followed by 300 pushups. My running tally is 2,775 miles over the past 311 days.
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,088
October 1, 2009
On 1 October 1988, 21 years ago today, I began to exercise regularly.
I exercised regularly during the previous year, but I was locked in jails and only able to exercise in my cell with pushups. By the time I transferred to the U.S. Penitentiary in Atlanta, I was fit and ready to commit to a lifelong fitness plan. Since then, not a single week has passed without my exercising at least four days.
Recently, 293 days ago, I began exercising every day. I’ve been blessed withexcellent health that allows me to keep this schedule, but I’m certain that exercising every day contributes to my good health. During that stretch, I’ve run 2,606 miles, including the 10 miles that I ran this morning. It was during that run that I thought about how essential fitness has been to my adjustment through these decades of imprisonment.
Today, I finished the edit through chapter nine of Earning Freedom. In one more week, I’ll finish the last of this editing round, and I’m pleased. The only thing that makes me happier is that Carole will visit me tomorrow.
Thursday, 1 October 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
Prison Journal: Day 8,065
September 8, 2009
I began writing this morning with hopes of finishing a draft of chapter eleven. The chapter goes on. I began writing at 1:49, and I wrote through page 521. Yet the characters at Lompoc camp who played a role in disrupting my life require more space to develop. This chapter may stretch for 15,000 words. I expect to finish tomorrow, and I’m eager to advance to the next chapter, which brings me to present time at Taft Camp. That chapter, also, may be long.
I spoke with my wife over the phone this morning. (After all these years, I still like saying “my wife.”) Carole told me that our new Web site is up. Once I finish this manuscript, I expect to return to adding more substantial content for the Web site than daily journal entries. I’m glad that I’m ahead of schedule with the manuscript, as I feel confident that I’ll finish a solid draft of Earning Freedom before the end of this month.
Carole has used the Internet since 2003 to build my Web presence, and I’m looking forward to seeing our work online when I come home.
I ran 10 miles this morning. The run brings my cumulative tally to 2,397 miles over the past 270 days.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
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