Prison Journal: Day 8,062

September 5, 2009

News from Carole brought me a bit of difficulty this afternoon. Her son, Michael, is serving in the armed forces, stationed in Iraq. I’ve been comforting her for the past few months with encouragement about the honor of his service and the excellent life training he receives as a U.S. soldier. The unfortunate realities of war can upset my efforts at giving Carole a positive message.

Today Carole learned that two soldiers from Michael’s battalion—a 19-year-old boy who was in boot camp and basic training with Michael, and a husband and father, age 40, with a wife and young family at home—were killed on a mission.

Carole was crying when she gave me the news, and while I’m here, with all the restrictions of my life, I’m not able to comfort her in the way a husband should. I hurt for Carole. She has struggled through the pains of my imprisonment for many years, and her heart now hurts with worries for Michael’s safety. I say a prayer for Michael, and for Carole’s peace.

This morning and afternoon I had good success writing chapter eleven. I’ve advanced the manuscript through page 494. This chapter describes my time at Lompoc Camp, just before my transfer to Taft Camp. I had many experiences at Lompoc, and the chapter may stretch to 50 pages. I’ve written 28 pages, but I still have much to cover. I expect to finish before Wednesday, and look forward to the next chapter, describing my time in Taft Camp and the events going on in Carole’s and my life right now. I expect to finish this draft of the manuscript with 550 to 575 pages.

This morning I ran 10 miles, bringing my tally to 2,367 miles over 267 consecutive days.

Saturday, 5 September 2009

Prison Journal: Day 8,055

August 29, 2009

In Taft Federal Prison Camp, I share space with nearly 500 minimum-security prisoners. Many of the men tell tall tales about their amazing success as businessmen in the community. I’ve learned to dismiss and ignore most of the men, as the lies I’ve heard border on the absurd. Sometimes, however, I have the privilege of shaking hands with men who’ve made substantial contributions to the advancement of our society. For the past several months, I’ve appreciated opportunities to spend time with David and Tuvia. They’re friends and business partners in Los Angeles, and they each serve brief sentences with me here at Taft.

My wife and I spend every Friday in the Taft visiting room. Since David and Tuvia receive visitors every Friday, Carole and I have met their wives, Judy and Gila, along with their many friends and business partners. Whereas Carole and I cherish those few hours together, David and Tuvia rotate new visitors into the room for one or two-hour sessions all day long. Each man serves a brief sentence, yet they have so many people who love and care for them, they juggle as many as 20 visitors on any given Friday.

Rather than brag about the great success they’ve made in their lives, as many other Taft prisoners like to do, David and Tuvia lead very low-key lives inside our boundaries. They’re friendly with all the other prisoners, and I presume they have more tolerance for the nonsense stories that others tell. Yet the support they receive from so many family and friends attests to the genuine love others feel for them. In that way, and in at least one other, those men are role models for me.

The other way is the love and devotion they feel for their family. Each has been married to his wife for many decades, and when they’re together, their obvious affection for their spouses is evident.  Their children come from as far away as Israel to pass a few hours together in the visiting room. I admire those close family ties, and Carole and I look forward to strengthening our family ties when I leave these boundaries behind. For now, we continue to reserve most all of my visiting hours for each other, as we strive to build a marriage that becomes stronger through the decades.

This morning, at 2:27, I began writing  on chapter ten of the manuscript. By the time I wrapped up my day, I had advanced the manuscript through page 434. It’s coming along.

I ran 10 miles this morning. Today’s run boosted my cumulative tally to 2,304 miles over the past 260 consecutive days.

Saturday, 29 August 2009

Prison Journal: Day 8,054

August 28, 2009

I just heard the strangest news from another prisoner at Taft Camp. He told me that he received an incident report because officials suspected that he had mailed a letter to his wife with instructions that his wife should forward the letter to someone else. I understand that policies prohibit inmates from corresponding with other people who are in prison. I haven’t heard of a rule that prohibits prisoners from using family members or others as a clearinghouse to pass along other correspondence. I’m going to look into the mail policy more closely, and when I learn more, I’ll write about it. Until then, I will not send letters home for my wife to pass along to others.

It will not be much longer, I keep telling myself, that I’ll leave prison for the real world. Running every day helps. I don’t expect to be in prison 1,000 days from now, and since I have more than 8,000 prison days behind me, I can handle it.

This morning I began writing chapter ten of Earning Freedom. I began outlining the chapter before 2:00 AM, and by 6:00 I wrote the first four pages, advancing the manuscript to page 424. Then I went outside to exercise. I ran 3 miles, the shorter distance I always run when I’m expecting a visit from my wife. My running tally is now 2,294 miles over the past 259 days.

Carole and I enjoyed a wonderful six hours together. The time is never long enough for me. I miss her terribly each Friday night, but I’m finding strength in the manuscript I’m writing. It’s therapeutic for me to write about the prison journey, and now I’m in a section where Carole and I go through our first transfer together. I look forward to writing more tomorrow.

Friday, 28 August 2009

Prison Journal: Day 8,050

August 24, 2009

I saw a blurb cross the streaming news ticker at the bottom of the CNN screen this morning that related to prison crowding in the State of California. The state legislature is deliberating over prison reforms that would allow nonviolent California prisoners who participate in education or vocational programs to serve the remainder of their sentences in community confinement centers. I applaud this progressive news.

Some citizens oppose any type of early release for people in prison, regardless of what efforts the prisoners make to reconcile with society. I don’t understand such a lust for punishment. It would seem that by now, all citizens would recognize the need for “smarter” use of our prison resources. It’s absurd to me that some citizens limit their perceptions of justice to calendar pages turning.

What would prove more beneficial to society?

1. Requiring a nonviolent offender to serve every day of a 10-year sentence OR
2. Encouraging that nonviolent offender to earn a vocational certificate and train for sustainable employment over a four-year period, then releasing him to a supportive group and employment?

To me, the second alternative makes so much more sense. The only segment of society that would benefit from the first would be the bloated prison industry, or those who identify with “Shylock,” Shakespeare’s character from The Merchant of Venice.

This morning I began writing at 1:51 am. I’m continuing to enjoy writing about my earliest months with Carole. Today I wrote through page 401 of the manuscript, and I feel so proud of Carole’s commitment to our marriage and happiness.

I ran 10 miles in the morning, bringing my running tally to 2,261 miles over the past 255 days.

Prison Journal: Day 8,049

August 23, 2009

I’m trying to convince David, my roommate at Taft Camp, to continue his education. A few months ago I wrote a blog describing David’s graduation from the GED program. Since then I’ve urged him to continue with studies at Taft College, but he’s losing interest. Like many prisoners, David’s being seduced with the “easy money” he’s sure that he can earn by learning how to chart commodity prices. He’s spending hours every day writing closing market prices and trading volume, but he has such a poor math skills, he can’t truly grasp the meaning of those numbers.

I asked Carole to order a basic math book for me today. It’s the same math book that the Taft College uses to teach students who enroll in the remedial math course. I’m trying to motivate David to master every problem in this book, and since we share the same cube, I’ll be able to help him when he needs help, and push him to study harder when he slacks off.

It’s crucial for David to develop his education. The world is advancing, and he will not find much fulfillment if he can’t function at even a basic level. He struggles with simple percentages, fractions, decimals, even arithmetic. If he works consistently, and I coach him, in one year he’ll master this book, and he can then advance to the next. I’m hopeful that he’ll stick with it.

This morning, I woke at 1:35, and I had an excellent session of writing new content for chapter nine. I wrote through page 381, bringing me to the section where Carole first moves to New Jersey to begin our life together as a prison family. These memories make me fall in love with her all over again.

I ran 10 miles in the early morning. My running tally now stands at 2,251 miles over the past 254 days.

Prison Journal: Day 8,047

August 21, 2009

This morning, I woke at 2:05, eager to begin my outline and initial pages for chapter nine of Earning Freedom. This chapter will bring me great memories, because it is the chapter where I write about the beginnings of my relationship with Carole. This is where our story begins together, and I’m eager to live it once again through these words. I wrote through page 373 of the manuscript this morning.

I ran three miles, then came inside to prepare for my visit with Carole. She surprised me by coming with Julie, my nephew Zachary, and my niece Sophia. We enjoyed a wonderful day together, with the children on my lap. I hadn’t seen my sister since last January, and the children haven’t been here in longer than a year. They’ve grown several inches.

When I left the visiting room today, I felt sad. It’s difficult for me to see the tangible evidence of how much time has gone by since my prison term began. Zach is now in the fourth grade, and I’ve missed those early years of his life. When I come home, he’ll be 12 or 13, Sophia will be nine. I miss my family.

I also missed my time with Carole today. Those six days we spend apart from each other every week really make me long for her. I cherish the time with my family, but it came at the expense of connecting with my wife. I’m at a stage in this journey when I need more, rather than less time with Carole. I’m glad that I’ll have chapter nine to write this week, as it will bring me closer to her.

My running tally, incidentally, is now at 2,231 miles over the past 252 days.

Also, when I returned to my housing unit after the visit, I received the most wonderful letter from a Mr. Holland, of Australia. Mr. Holland is a reader of my work, and he wrote how it inspired him to strive toward becoming a better husband. This gratifies me beyond words, and I intend to write back to Mr. Holland once I complete my manuscript. My writing energy goes to my work and the daily blog now, but I want him to know that I appreciate the kind thoughts he expressed.

Prison Journal: Day 8,040

August 14, 2009

I’m happy to have received a message from my wife, Carole, that my mom reads my daily blog. The Bureau of Prisons likes to promote itself as being family friendly, but the policies it enforces seem designed to isolate prisoners from families and communities. I’ve lived with those policies since 1987, and as a consequence of them, I don’t enjoy the close family relationships with my mother, my sisters, or their families that other citizens take for granted.

Those separations prompt me to write about this long journey. Many years ago I read the famous epic by Homer titled The Odyssey. The story describes Odysseus’ struggles in fighting his way home over a 20-year period. Although I’m not battling one-eyed monsters and other creatures, I wrestle with feelings of isolation, and conquer the loneliness by writing about the experience. But, I know that I’m communicating with a wide audience, and that doesn’t lend itself well to the close, intimate relationships most people enjoy with family. I’m too far at sea, and I’ve been gone too long to understand their daily lives.

I’ve recently completed a first draft of chapter seven for my manuscript, Earning Freedom, and those first 323 pages describe what it’s been like to grow through so many years apart from my family. One clear reminder of how much time has passed is my niece, Isabella. I cried over the telephone when I heard about my younger sister, Christina giving birth to Isabella. I was just starting my sentence then, and I felt sad, alone, because I couldn’t hold my sister or her baby. Now, Isabella’s in the university. I’ve missed her entire life, as well as all that has gone on in the lives of my mother, my sisters, my other nieces and nephews, even my father’s death.

The journey has been long, though it hasn’t always been bad. I’ve been blessed with privileges and opportunities that few long-term prisoners enjoy. I was able to educate myself, I’ve built a quasi-career through writing, and I built this extraordinary marriage with Carole, my devoted wife who serves this sentence with me. Yet, casualties exist in that I cannot participate in the lives of my extended family. Telephone restrictions don’t even allow for me to talk with others. I’ve adjusted, though I know my mother and sisters suffer without closer contact with me. I have to keep sailing home, and at most, I know I’ve got four more years to go. Although I’m far away at sea, I send a message to my mom: I love you.

Today I enjoyed a magnificent visit with Carole. I ran three miles in the early morning, and outlined chapter eight. My running tally is now 2,168 miles over the past 245 days.

Prison Journal: Day 8,033

August 7, 2009

Today was a visiting day for me at Taft Camp, so I woke with enthusiasm at 1:44 am.  I wanted to read through the edits I’ve made to the first two chapters of the manuscript. Next week, I expect that Carole will submit my proposal along with three sample chapters to my agent. While he considers it, I will continue writing. I worked through page 283 this morning, taking me deeper into chapter seven.

I went outside for exercise, running three miles. That brought my running tally to 2,105 miles over the past 238 consecutive days.

Carole was here at 8:10, but with the line and processing, our visit didn’t begin until 8:35. One week feels too long for us to pass between visits. Some prisoners prefer to avoid visiting, but Carole is my connection to the world. I cherish every minute that we’re together. When she’s beside me my heart pounds, not only with exhilaration from her touch, but also with anticipation of how wonderful life will be once I’m released from prison and living with her.

Today, I had the privilege of meeting a few people in the visiting room. Steve is a fellow prisoner here at Taft Camp, and while Carole and I were visiting, Steve enjoyed a visit from his wife, Peggy, and daughter, Meg. Peggy is an English professor, and she has been kind to edit my initial work on the manuscript.

We also met Suzy, a wife from Utah who flew in to visit her husband. She came over and introduced herself to us, and thanked us for posting regular news about life at Taft Camp.

Prison Journal: Day 8,021

July 26, 2009

A sad reality of prison life is that the rules limit us to 300 telephone minutes per month. With my writing, my preparations for release, and Internet projects, I feel obligated to reserve all of my phone minutes for Carole, who coordinates my interactions with society. A consequence of this choice is that I feel estranged from my mother and my sisters.

We’ve had news here about e-mail services that the prison will make available to the prisoners of Taft Camp. Prisoners in several other camps already have access to e-mail and from what I’ve heard it’s a wonderful system. We will have to pay a nominal fee to use the e-mail system, but we will not have to suffer the ridiculous limitations that block us from telephone and visiting access. I’m really optimistic about the e-mail program, as once it comes, I’ll be able to build closer connections with my mom and my sisters.

This morning I resumed my work on chapter 5 at 3:12 AM. I wrote through page 233, then went outside to exercise. After finishing my run, I returned to my writing, and by 3:00 in the afternoon I had reached page 236 of the manuscript, concluding the first draft of chapter five. I spent the remainder of the afternoon writing letters to professors who have invited me to speak at their universities upon my release.

I ran 10 miles this morning. My running tally is now 1,999 miles over the past 226 days.

Prison Journal: Day 8,017

July 22, 2009

I ran 10 miles in the morning, bringing my running tally to 1,964 miles over the past 222 days. Then I attended a TOAD meeting for our youth outreach program, and I’ve spent the rest of the day writing. When I wake tomorrow morning, I’ll feel good about being only one day away from kissing my wife. I miss Carole, because writing about these early years of my imprisonment remind me of how much she means to me, and how fortunate I am to have her love.

Despite not having medicine for these allergies, and still struggling with a bit of lightheadedness, I had a productive day. I began at 1:30 this morning, as I usually feel the least amount of dizziness in the very early morning. Since I was in bed at 5:10 yesterday afternoon, I had plenty of rest. I’ve learned to block out the noise and disturbance of dormitory living, for the most part. I do look forward to living in a residence that I share with my wife only, though after so many decades of imprisonment, I have trouble imagining such a life.

I wrote through page 212 of the manuscript. That was productive, as I had a particularly sensitive scene to describe, and I had to work through it for awhile. I’m hoping that Carole, my first reader, thinks the story comes through okay. This writing project certainly carries me through these long days I spend each week without her.

I just spoke to another prisoner who has been incarcerated about 20 years. We were confined together in a USP during the early 1990s, though we adjusted very differently then. He’s released in one month. Someday, I know release will come for me. I’ll be ready.

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