4-18-19

Dear Reader,

Hey. I hope you're doing well!

I was shipped off to Morganton High Rise. Also known as "Gladiator School". Ages 16-21. Some stayed a little longer depending on their custody level. I was 17 or I had just turned 18... I can't quite remember if I had that birthday in the county jail or in prison.

My first month I was in 23 hour lockdown. It's called orientation. I had to learn the rules and get tested for tuberculosis (T.B.) and other medical screening. After I was cleared I was moved to a population floor. I couldn't wait to get out of my cell and move around, work, go to school, something other than sitting in my cell.

Lunch time - my door pops open. I put on my shoes and walk out into the hallway. Suddenly someone yells, "Boot call!" and everyone drops to the ground. Except me... and I got clobbered in the face by a steel toe brogan work boot. I looked in the direction from which it came but I couldn't tell. Everyone was already back up and moving past me to the chow cart. I looked everyone in the eyes as they passed by. Watched their body movement, hoping I'd be able to tell which one I was about to fight. But I couldn't figure it out. It turns out this happens to everyone on their first day. It's a way to gauge the person's heart. If they're a fighter or someone who can be taken advantage of. I didn't get my first fight until later. A short skinny kid looked at me like he wanted to fight. I thought to myself, "Come on man. My first fight is with a kid a foot shorter than me?" I barely got that thought through my mind and the next thing I realized... I was waking up on the cold, concrete floor. Ha! Ha! Ha! The tiny guy knocked me out and I didn't even see it come. Yeah, I learned a valuable lesson that afternoon... Size don't matter. Him and I fought 3 times. I bested him once. The last one. So he was a better fighter than I was at first. :D

During my time in juvenile prison I was in north of 200 fights. The bulk of them was in the first 6 months. B + C hallways couldn't be seen by the guards so that's where it all went down. The cameras didn't work either so it was rare for anyone to get caught.

I was there during one of the worst moments of American history. 9-11. I remember watching the news and seeing the horror on T.V. and I couldn't help but notice the comparison that I was currently on the 12th floor in a building I thought was shaped that way also. We were all glued to the television. Half in shock that a terror attack happened on American soil, let alone the magnitude of it. We began speculating who did it?, why? etc... I won't even get into whose fault it was because it doesn't matter. Something like that should have never happened. I look at the system of our country now and fear something like that will happen again. How much pain does society have to go through before those in power realize that their actions have consequences? And that it's the ones that aren't in power that suffer the most? I'll come back to this issue after I've caught you up on my life.

I served my whole 18 months, plus the 10 months from the county jail that the judge didn't give me and plus the original 10 months I didn't get. So I served a total of 38 months on a 15-18 month sentence... :( The system strikes again!

I had a few jobs while I was there. I worked as a dorm janitor, kitchen worker, Foot Hills 1st floor maintenance (adult prison across the street), D.O.T. (Dept. of Transportation). I worked at Broughton Hospital (mental health ward) too. My favorite was the bridge program. The bridge program put out fires in the mountains. Sometimes we'd have to be dropped in from a helicopter and repel down to the ground. I only got to practise this. But it was fun as all get out.

I got my G.E.D. while I was there too. The incentive was 30 days off my sentence but I lost it due to getting caught fighting. Between fighting and smoking cigarettes I lost all my gain time.

I got out and was faced with another harsh reality. My first day out my sister told me I had 30 days to have a job and contribute to the bills or I had to get out. My mom supported this. I'll get into that chapter of my life in my next blog.

I forgot to tell you something. When I got out of boot camp, I was lined up to go into the Marines. My recruiter was a Sgt. Campos. I spoke to him during my last week in boot camp. After my 6th month of intensive was over, he was enlisting me... But I was 2 months shy of that date...

Until next time.

Yours truly,
Doug