1998 Dec – “Doing time in Charles County” (Prison Writings)

1998 Dec – “Doing time in Charles County” (Prison Writings)

From the Gods of Metal Plowshares December 1998  news letter

Situated in La Plata, Maryland, about an hour southeast of Washington, DC, and built as a high security facility, the Charles County Detention Center holds somewhere between 350 and 400 inmates.  At least that’s the figure quoted to me by the chaplain.  This is fully automated facility with automatic steel doors, lots of cameras, listening devices, a P.A. system and a centralized control room with all the latest surveillance instruments.

Upon arrival, each prisoner is issued the universal county jail jumpsuit; mine is bright orange.  Within a few days new arrivals are assigned to a particular unit.  We rarely see other inmates outside our assigned units except by chance in the hallways or at weekly church services.  I was placed in one of two federal units.  Larry Morlan was placed in the other.  We never see each other except on Monday nights at Catholic Church services.

The unit I live in has 16 two man cells divided into two types:  eight cells on the lower tier and eight cells on the upper tier.  The whole unit is a large three-sided room with a common area in the middle.  The two tiers of cells occupy one wall.  A television set, four phones and a camera are mounted on another wall.  (All phone calls are collect.)  And the entrance door and a row of tinted windows leading into the hallway make up the third wall.

The common area is equipped with steel tables and stools welded to the floor.  Checkers, chess, dominoes and playing cards are available for recreation.  The noise level throughout the day is deafening.  The television can be heard everywhere, but only understood a few feet away from the speakers.  You can barely talk on the phone above the noise in the unit.

The two-man cells are 12’ x 6’ block concrete rooms equipped with two cement slabs that serve as bunk beds, a small steel table and stool attached to the wall and floor, a combination steel toilet and sink, a steel mirror and two steel wall pegs to hang your towels.  Each inmate is given a thin plastic mat and pillow, one wool blanket, two sheets, a very small think towel and washrag and a jail rule book.  There is a 2’ x 5’ window above the top bunk with steel cross bars.  Each cell has a large fluorescent light and listening device.  The lights are on 24 hours, dimmed a bit at night after lockdown, but bright enough to read by.

Everything we need is brought to the unit:  out food, meds, mail, laundry, library books (such as they are), commissary goods and toilet paper.  If it weren’t for visits, church services, doctor appointments, court and a twice a week gym privilege, an inmate would never get to leave the unit.  Some never do…..  There are no outdoor privileges.  We breathe the same recycled jail air all the time.  Headaches are common.  We are let out of our cells between 5:30 a.m. and 10:45 p.m. each day.  We must return to our cells and be locked in during the four regular daily counts at 7 a.m., 11 a.m., 3 p.m., and 7 p.m. or whenever the jail deems it necessary.  All units are subject to shakedowns at any given moment.

The food is average for jail grub, which means no fresh fruit or veggies, the poorest quality of meats, small portions of either poor food or good food prepared poorly.  Most meals arrive in the units lukewarm or at room temperature.  Most guys supplement the jail food with junk food from the jail commissary.

The federal units here are used to hold men awaiting trial or sentencing.  One guy in my unit has been here over a year.  The majority are drug offenders; 75 percent are African Americans.  It’s a very stressful place.  Most of the men are facing serious charges with the prospect of doing years in prison.  As one inmate put it, “You feel like you want to plead guilty to a charge you did not commit just to get out of this place.”  Given the circumstances, it’s a wonder we all get along as well as we do.

The most difficult thing for me is living in close quarters with 31 other men.  The day in day out grind of bumping into basic human facilities and differing living habits can be trying.  The lack of privacy, the struggle with boredom and the feeling of claustrophobia gets to me sometimes.  Beyond the obvious physical challenges, the real struggles are fought on the inside in the mental and spiritual realms.  Keeping a positive attitude is not easy.

The single most challenging restriction for me is the lack of good reading material.  This jail has the most restrictive mailing regulations I have ever experienced.  We are only allowed to receive personal letters, postcards and money orders.  All incoming mail must have a full return address with the name of the sender or it is sent back.  No books, newspapers, magazines or newspaper articles are allowed.

However, on the whole, I really have no reason to complain.  First of all, I could be in a place like the Baltimore or Washington, D.C. jails.  Those places are true hell holes.  And I’m here for doing something “right”, something I’m proud of, following my conscience and the Gospels.  I have a lot of people on the outside who are supporting and loving me.  The other guys in here are not proud of what they did to land them in jail.  Most communicate no sense of greater purpose; they have few friends and little support.  Almost all are looking at doing more time than me.

I am grateful that the men have generally accepted me in their midst.  They seem to genuinely appreciate my presence and company.  Once again, I discover that the less I focus on myself and my own self-pity and the more I make myself available to the men around me, the better I feel about being here.

I try to keep myself busy throughout the day.  I walk two hours a day, using the pathway along the tiers as my track.  The most important thing I do is pray.  I pray a short version of the divine office faithfully.  I’m also part of a daily Bible study in the unit and am reading the New Testament with my Greek American cellmate at night.

When I’m paying attention, I find lots of opportunities for ministry.  It’s a difficult life, yet also very rewarding.  It’s a great place for a priest to be, an authentic context and perspective to measure the times we live and the depths of our own spirit and faithfulness.