Читать книгу Prison Puzzle Pieces 3 - Dave Basham - Страница 14

One guy, that was hired, was so bad that the inmates ridiculed us officers severely for him being one of us. It was humiliating being in the same category as this guy. He walked like a combination of Igor and Frankenstein; very slowly, stiff, one leg sliding to try to catch up with the other, arms bent at the elbows with his hands hanging down limp wristed. He was slovenly and inattentive. He was constantly chewing gum. He couldn’t answer questions. There was dead silence before anything stumbled out of his mouth. There was no light on upstairs. When you looked into his eyes, no one was home. This is not a place to be employing the physically or mentally handicapped; and this guy was both.

Whoever hired this guy should’ve been fired. Was this some kind of a cruel joke? If he had to go through the same procedures that I did in order to get hired, how did he ever wind up here? The incompetence of some of those employed by the DOC was blatantly obvious with this guy being hired.

Doofus was going through the academy and was sent to my block for “On the Job Training.” He was so bad that I called training and asked what was going on with this guy and why he was still here. They told me that they were frustrated too. They had tried to get rid of him, but weren’t allowed to.

There was one instance involving an Associate Warden. This AW was in my block one day when this embarrassing new hire from the academy was at the desk area with another new hire from his academy. I was working the desk. She asked the other guy a question. He answered it well. She asked Doofus the same question. After a long pause, he parroted the other guys answer. She asked the other guy another question and then asked Doofus the same question. Again, the long pause followed by the parroted answer. What! Were these guys’ clones? She seemed to be catching on. She asked Doofus the next question first. He couldn’t answer. He was lost. He was in “Never Never Land.” This question had nothing to do with what he knew about the job. It was a personal question and he couldn’t answer it. He paused and did not answer. He just stood there in silence. I’ve actually worked with mentally challenged people that were more competent than this guy. She asked the other officer the same question. He answered right away. Then Doofus spoke up and parroted the same answer.

You would’ve thought the AW would’ve realized this guy to be incompetent and oust him right there. It didn’t happen.

The lady that coordinates the training for Stillwater and did a lot of the training came down to my cellblock and told me she needed help. She told me that they were frustrated. They had tried to get rid of this guy, but weren’t allowed to. She needed more documentation of this guy’s incompetence and inability to perform the functions necessary to do the job. I told her that I could easily provide it. She asked if I would write a letter that they could use to help get rid of him. I responded eagerly to the affirmative.

I wrote a letter and gave it to her. The letter would have to be placed in his file. If he wasn’t terminated and did anything wrong, this letter could be produced to verify the incompetency of the institution by not terminating this person. The honchos need documentation of everything. Why? CYA; that’s right!

He was gone.

Even though he was gone, the damage was done. Inmates used what they saw of this guy to tell to us that the DOC hired the retarded, and we were one of them. We couldn’t deny it. We were insulted by someone like this ever stepping foot in this place representing himself as an officer.

No ifs ands or buts about it; whoever hired this person ought to be fired. I was vocal about this, and no big shot could deny it. We all felt the same way.

Following is the letter I wrote:

Doofus reported to me over 5 minutes after the other OJT officer reported to me. I directed him to report to cell 860 where Officer Old Timer was packing a cell. I pointed to the cell and said, "See that cell with the door open. There is an officer in that cell, report to him." He started to walk away and then asked where it was. I repeated what I had just told him. (One thing I neglected to put in this letter was that I had to keep directing him from my location with hand signals and hollering directions to him until he arrived at that cell.)

Doofus did count with Officer Old Timer. He counted a cell to be empty where there was an offender. Officer Old Timer had to recheck to find the error. While I was at the door post, Doofus and the other OJT officer were leaving the unit. I had asked Doofus his name previously and got the correct spelling from him. I had not yet asked the other man his name, so I asked him. He informed me. Doofus then gave me his name again. In the very limited contact I had with Doofus, I found him extremely inattentive.