Thoughts from a Prison Cell

(Image is actual reality.)

What a crazy summer I've had! I notice I have not blogged since May 31. For someone who likes (sometimes makes childish demands) that all my ducks be in a row, April until now has been anything BUT falling into line as I would imagine. My body is telling me a lot of things; none the least of which is that I am getting old and need to start giving more attention to my health. Interestingly, the healthiest I have ever been is when I was in prison where I could focus more time on myself than everyone else (not much else to do but work out for three hours a day and spend time in the Word focusing on my physical and spiritual well-being). In mid April, I got Covid for the second time. Less than a month later, my knee just 'went out', which has never happened before. It's still giving me fits! One month to the day, something happened in my eye that put me on a fast track to surgery due to a vitreous hemorrhage and partial detachment of my retina. 

My book had been chosen for our Women's Book Club for the month of June. Revisiting the book and gathering data to answer some of the questions the ladies had was daunting. A little more than a week before our women's Bible studies were to begin on June 15th, I was asked to lead one of the groups. The attributes of God was our focus. What an incredible study it has been. Even while hobbling around seeing things clearly through eyes of faith but physically through one eye, I can declare that God has been ever faithful and good.  

I know I need to get back to the book of Habakkuk; and I will. While prepping for Book Club, I came across some journal entries from my time in County Jail that blessed me as I looked back at them. I saw how the Lord worked in my heart through a difficult trial. I want to share them with my blog readers to strengthen our faith, to compel us to cultivate a heart of gratitude and thankfulness for all His blessings. Beloved, look around you. For now, you are free physically, but you will always be free in Christ no matter what happens to you. Thank Him for that freedom and for all those things you daily take for granted. I will warn you that these entries are raw and real.  On April 26, 2012 (my husband's birthday), I was placed in Allegheny County Jail. The first day I could actually begin to journal was not until May 2. What follows is from what I remember...very clearly.

In the holding cell, there were wooden benches the whole way around the room. The room had phones on the walls; but I couldn't figure out how to use them, plus I didn't want anyone to see my money order, so I held it close to me and never moved from my seat all day long. (We were wrongly told we should take in $300 money orders to have placed on our books immediately.) It was hard to find a seat because there were many who were laying across the benches passed out. Some were just passed out on the cement floor. The room, which obviously had not been cleaned for some time (if ever!) had a strong odor of urine, vomit, and excrement. The sounds were of women throwing up, using the toilet in the same room that was only separating the rest of its occupants by a waist to chest-high block wall, moaning, snoring, cursing, and phone calls being made.

When it came time for me to be processed, I asked the man at the front desk if he could apply my check to my account. He yelled at me several times that he had no idea what he was supposed to do with it, but he said I "definitely could not take it upstairs." I began to cry; he said he would have it put in a bin with my belongings. ***

The processing procedure is utterly humiliating and just plain gross. I can only imagine it as somewhat similar to the procedure done to the many at Auschwitz (okay...this was what I was thinking at the time, but in no way do I want to take away from what those precious people suffered). I was reminded of that horrendous event in history often. Always an extremely modest person, I was stripped down in a shower the size of an office cubicle that reeked of urine. There, I was searched thoroughly.

After being "processed," the group I was in was put in another holding cell for another couple of hours. Dirty and defiling, I refused to use a bathroom. I-just-could-not-do-it. Late at night, one male guard put us all in an elevator stopping on one floor. I would have been the last one off the elevator, but the male guard stopped me laughing, "Oh, you're not going here. You're going to a special place." When I finally got to my "destination", I walked into a large open pod where all the federal prisoners were assigned. The problem was, there weren't only federal inmates there. In fact, there were few. 

All the way around the pod were locked cells, top floor and bottom. The lights were dimmed and there were inmates mopping the floors. The guard was gruff. She laughed at me when I walked in. She opened one cell, and the occupants there told her that they already had too many people in their cell. Unlocking another one, I was fragile and appalled. The cell was no bigger than a small horse stall. There were bunk beds on the far wall with a small window with bars through which the one on the top bunk could look out to see the world. There was a toilet and sink and small desk on one wall. Two lockers were on the other wall. The toilet was filled to the top with all sorts of garbage. (The reason, I would come to find out soon enough was that each cell was automated to only allow two flushes per hour. Those toilets, however, could flush someone's head down them!)  

The woman occupying the cell scared me from the moment I walked in. I later found out she pulled a lot of rank here. However, I would learn that God was with me wherever I went showing me His favor, and she and I came to a mutual respect for one another. A drug dealer on the streets, her "hustle" was the same in prison. She even shared with me how it was done (just in case I would one day want to do the same, I guess).

She and I didn't end up being cellmates for long, but she did impart to me a lot of prison 'wisdom'. For instance, I went to prison and got my period soon after. I had started having a much heavier than usual flow for the last few years. It never dawned on me that I was starting to go through menopause. The first few nights I was in prison, I slept sitting up with my back against the cement block wall on the top bunk. I had issues with my back for years and hadn't slept in a bed for many years before that. This was my greatest fear going into prison. I was scared to lay down for fear it would trigger one of my back episodes. In my mind, I didn't think I could go through that in prison. (Eventually, I did; and the Lord was with me to sustain me.) Plus, there were no pillows and only a thin mat on each bed. If one was to lie down, they would have to either take their one sheet or one blanket and wad it up into a pillow. The problem with sacrificing either of those was that living on the pod was like living on an iceberg. Women wore thermal underwear under their uniforms 24/7.

When I had my period, I had to especially sit up because they only supplied tiny sanitary napkins in prison. Mostly, they supplied tiny tampons. They were put out in a box at the front of the pod early every morning before breakfast. Everyone would rush to get all the pads (the only thing I was able to use), because pads were like Duck Tape in prison--used for everything. I was getting up and down the ladder every hour or so to change pads. Apparently, I was actually touching some part of my bunky's bed with my toes and disrupting her too much with my apologies. The next morning she said, "Look, Bunky, I'm going to have to teach you how to make a diaper." And, she did. She also warned me, on several occasions "not to be tellin people 'bout your business" (due to the the many snitches in prison).

One would have thought I would not have trusted anyone in prison after what I had been through. Some may have thought it would have been easy for me to lose my faith and trust in God. The opposite was true. After losing all faith and trust in people who I believed were put in society to watch over and protect me, these women were now my mission field. I found, for the most part, they were eager and willing to help out a fellow inmate. God quickly gave me a real love for them. Though I had been accused by the government of 'concealment', snitches didn't bother me because I had nothing to hide.

In prison, sanitary pads are hoarded for a multitude of uses. That doesn't change throughout the prison system. Women McGuivers, inmates are some of the most resourceful people I have ever met. Because they are sanitary, pads are wonderful cleaning tools. When a person gets to a prison camp, they are all forced to wear steel-toed boots. A newbie, as she limps around trying to get used to her boots, is inevitably advised to use sanitary pads as cushioning until she breaks in her boots. They are put on the end of a mop and then used to scrub the floors. They are used by some as cleansing pads for facials or to clean out bowls and eating utensils in the bathroom sink. It took me a long time not to gag watching one woman doing her intimate laundry in one sink while a woman stood beside her washing her eating utensils in another with a sanitary pad. But, hey, a woman's gotta do what she's gotta do! I learned to adjust. 

In Allegheny County Jail there was a strict routine. The only way this routine would change is if there was a prison lockdown. In the morning, the bell would ring, the cells were unlocked, and everyone walked out into the pod for breakfast. It was usually always the same. Mostly carbohydrates, there was fruit only for the pregnant ladies. I can't remember ever seeing a vegetable unless it was a wilted piece of lettuce or two or corn. If one couldn't buy from commissary, that one would lose a lot of weight. I did lose 20 pounds while I was there (about a month). You were able to get a little bit of chicory-flavored coffee and about an inch or inch and a half of colored, flavored water at each meal. I got dehydrated there.

A lot of girls said women got diabetes in prison, and they just couldn't understand why. They blamed it on the kool-aid served at every meal. I told them it was the abundance of carbohydrates that turned into sugar in the body. "Ohhhhhhh."

After eating, you were allowed out for a period of time until count. After count, you were locked down until lunch. During the times you were out, you either walked around and around the circle of the pod and talked to friends or you watched television with no sound, played cards, or read. I usually walked when out and read when in my cell. I read anything I could get my hands on that was decent. Available books were either sent in from someone on the 'outside' or there was a small selection in a small cabinet on the wall that made their rounds--around and around and around. People who never read, read in prison. I had requested from a pastor friend a copy of Jeremiah Burroughs' The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. He sent me the old English version. Struggling to read it, I left it there. Years later, I would read the updated modern version and be able to look back and see that, indeed, this was one of the lessons God had for me. Oh, how I could relate!

***Note: My first day in ACJ, I was sitting on my top bunk crying when an older guard came into our cell and asked me what was wrong. I told her about the $300 money order. She gave me some advice as to how I could have my father come to the jail and get it once he was on my approved visiting list, which took a little time. I had little hope that money order would still be there by the time my father was able to get it. It was still there weeks later, and he applied it to my 'books'. How I praised God for His protection and provision.

I was in Allegheny County Jail for about a month. It is hard to keep track of days unless one writes them down. I will begin the next blog post with May 2, 2012, when I got my first pen (a simple insert) and paper.