Читать книгу Sold Short In America - Richard A. Altomare - Страница 17

Well my new best friend across the hall has taken me under his wing. He has been yelling at the guards for me. He also told me to shave because we can't let those guards get to us. His entire body, fingers, face, and scalp are tattooed. I'm glad my 3 day beard growth was so noticed by him and considered unattractive.

Well, just when I thought I would he boring you with meaningless complaining about my new dirty room, I was given my finest prison story to date.

My new tattooed friend told the guards that they had forgotten to give me a shower. He keeps track, I guess. They took me to one of the lower showers. Our shower is out of order (no comment). I took a pretty long shower because of my cleaning efforts and they also gave me a new razor so I shaved. Everyone, including my Illustration Man Friend, would be happy. So, I finish, dry down and step out with my small wrap around towel. As I am standing in my most provocative position (I wish) female inmates working on the floor with a female guard handle me standing there semi-naked like a Brad Pitt sighting. They are clapping and whistling. I am still there waiting for my clothes, and the guards are simply mulling around discussing some basketball game. The female guard says "Honey, you better get in the shower you "upsettin' my girls. Go in the shower, boy". With embarrassment, I did.

As I stood in the shower, the "count" began. The "count", as a review, is the quality control, like a prisoner of war camp, of this fine-tuned BOP machine. I couldn't help myself. I decided to see if they would miss me in the count.

The female guard and her harem left. The CO's began the "count" while I stayed now out of sight and in the darkened shower. The dialogue was priceless. It must mean I'm going home soon. Please let this be my final story.

"What you mean Altomare's gone?" "I brought him back from legal 2 hours ago"; (Apparently no one remembered they had brought me to the shower.) Despite the fact that both of those guards, who were part of the search, were the ones who placed this nude, chilled and toweled hider in the shower; they were like the Keystone Cops in their search approach. They all started yelling at each other, as I quietly stepped out of the shower and now stood waiting to be noticed and taken back to my cell. The search and recount continued until one of the guards finally saw me quietly standing where I had been placed over 1 hour and 30 minutes ago. They were so happy to see that I hadn't made a break for it. Can you imagine that paperwork? Everyone started blaming everyone else, and only I knew that for at least 20 minutes I enjoyed some retaliatory "sunshine" against a system that tries its best, but it is broken. My escape was short-lived, and the head guard couldn't have apologized more that I had been left over an hour during the count and had been so missed. I'm really going to have to send pizzas to him when and if I finally leave.

When I was in the military in the 1960's there was a joke that asked the difference between a drafted Army and the Boy Scouts. The answer was that the Boy Scouts had adult leadership. It simply flashed back to me tonight as I disappeared for the count. Where is that adult leadership?

The pile of garbage I left outside my cell, during its initial cleaning, remains piled in front of my window as I return to my cell. The pile of garbage, which has been there for hours, represents the disdain those inmates and prison employees have for our society and our system of justice. How different a prison could be run if those in charge really cared.

I'm really not going to forget that on Memorial Day weekend the Warden went on a 4 day vacation while disregarding my polite and professional request for phone call assistance.

Initially, I was going to let Warden Star hide behind the “suits”. If a fish stinks - it stinks from the head down. I intend to try to assist in whatever investigation this Sing-Sing, Shawshank Redemption story may one day find itself. Normally the truth does come out. It's similar to the reason I was invited to visit prison by a Judge, who like the Warden, thinks he is above reproach. The cleanliness transformation of this cell, if I may say so, is remarkable. I have disinfected, mopped and changed the linens as well as protected the perimeter with toilet paper that may inhibit evening visitors. I am quite proud of my efforts.

But that's not all I wanted to speak about. The real issue is that along the perimeter of this new cell are ripped out baseboard heaters. Connecting them are 5" or 6" long metal spikes (knife like) that are quite easy to break off and use now or whenever appropriate. I, of course, still care for the safety of these CO's. I may hide during a count, but these young untrained and unmotivated men and women are dealing with hardened criminals or hardened civil “contemptors” like myself. The point of interest is the CO stated, "We know, we told management." We are on a "list" to have the cell made safer and closed off from the walls. Yes, the holes in this cell are massive. I would have to use the center of the toilet paper instead of the paper itself to prevent rodents from entering.

My wife is more superstitious than I am, so I will not talk about leaving. As I wake up this morning, a little earlier than normal, I would like to reminisce about my stay here. Maybe today I will leave.

First, I will miss the personalities of some of the guards. A few of them are definitely likeable. Maybe like a dog, you wag your tail for whoever feeds you and takes you "out" for a walk to my legal visits. I remember that my dogs used to go crazy when I picked up the chain, and they knew they were going out for a walk. Honestly, it is the same each time I hear the keys or handcuffs rescuing me. After initially "tabling" my ego and pride, even strip searches after visits became worth the departure from the cell for an hour or two. Some of the guards touched me (not that way) because they care. Some are simply more evolved and competent than the others who are overwhelmed by the task and the responsibilities at hand.

Without my diary notes in front of me, since I sneak them out through my daily visits, I hope my stories and comments are not too redundant. For you see, my mail is opened, read, and stapled together and I am pretty sure my letters and stories would have been censored by someone with the same qualifications as the more inept characters who have already been presented .

Before I go down prison memory lane and all is well again with the world because I, a non-criminal, am finally leaving to return to the "non-toilet paper center world". Let us pray for those for whom today is just another day in this non-productive system of make believe.