Growing up with five siblings was challenging. Home life was filled with competition and very often far from civil. My father was largely absent, having divorced my mom when I was two. I had to grow up way too fast. Many early life experiences contributed to my poor decision making, choices that led me to prison as an adult. But none of it prepared me for what I’ve seen in prison.
I grew up in a small suburb on the outskirts of Detroit. We were packed into a little house that we called home. Over the twenty years of my life in Michigan I saw my fair share of violence. I had my bike stolen from my front yard, I was robbed at a concert at the Joe Louis arena, and I was the victim of an attempted car-jacking while delivering pizzas. I’ve watched my father fight, and had several of my own along the way. I spent a night in jail as a sixteen year old for one of them. And with all that I went through as a child, nothing could have prepared me for the level of violence and inhumanity I’ve experienced while in prison. It’s a world unto itself. No two prisons are exactly the same. Each has their own challenges. What they do share in common is that there is no manual for survival. The following is a summary of my experience over the last several years. And the prison where I’m housed is far from the worst in the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
I currently reside at a U.S. Penitentiary, but it’s not my home. I wouldn’t even say that I’m a resident of this state. It’s not an “active” yard. Active yards are run by individual gangs, usually divided by race. They have hierarchies and shot-callers – guys at the top of their command structures. They dictate how you behave, and your position in the “car” (your gang/race group). Stuff like this is often referred to as prison “politics.” Active yards operate by strict rules. Prison staff legitimize these cars and allow them to police their own until it’s necessary for them to get involved. No inmate talks to staff alone for accountability purposes. If you don’t toe the line you get run off of the yard. If you’re not compliant or get marked for removal they’ll either attack you, or “run you up top,” that is, send you to the Lieutenant’s office to “check in” to the SHU (commonly referred to as solitary confinement outside of prison). Being unwelcome, you can no longer “walk the yard.” To be clear, staff don’t provide the SHU as an escape from danger. In this case you’re sent there for discipline for refusing the yard. Your destiny is to keep refusing to be released from the SHU until staff get tired of writing you up for it and ship you elsewhere. This can take months or even years depending on your history and how difficult it is to find another location for you.
Other yards are designed for special populations like gang drop-outs, sex-offenders, extremely medically-needy inmates, and others who are considered hard-to-place. There are a small handful of yards that house special populations.
Generally, staff do not care much for inmates. Many hate them and make no qualms about letting it be known. To them, if you get stabbed or beat up, you had it coming. Going to them for help with a problem is often useless. They don’t care. If there isn’t violence or some other immediate reason for them to get involved at that moment, they will likely do nothing. An inmate who is scared for some reason has two options: handle it yourself, or check into the SHU. Both are disciplinary infractions. Both typically end with being in the SHU. It’s a lose-lose situation. Ignoring the problem and hoping it goes away is often an invitation for more problems like theft, extortion, or physical violence.
Prisoners like to talk about respect, but the meaning of that is not always clear. Walking too close to someone or interrupting a conversation can be disrespectful. Certain races find it offensive if you accidentally touch their foot with a broom while sweeping, never mind their refusal to move out of the way. Often the most disrespectful people are the loudest ones about demanding respect. Many of these principles span over active and inactive yards, as an inactive yard typically consists of many formerly active inmates. Because of this, no prison is completely safe. Inactive yards can be labeled in different ways by the BOP, but they are not usually run by shot-callers and usually house inmates that can’t walk safely on an active yard. There are not a lot of them and they still come with some level of politics and racial division. None of this is by accident of course. After all, a divided population that’s targeting each other is not targeting staff. It’s the old divide-and-conquer strategy, and it works pretty well as long as rehabilitation and reform are not the goal. And don’t let them kid you about it. Prisons have a lot of programs designed to change inmates’ thinking and behavior, but the prison environment and the way staff run prisons do not contribute very effectively to changing behavior. The staff who run day-to-day operations are not the staff who teach behavioral therapy classes. But the government has never been accused of running anything effectively. What prisons do best is house people that society doesn’t like. Unfortunately, most return, and when they do they’ve been severely soured by years of mistreatment. Whether it’s a hateful attitude or disrespectful and dehumanizing encounters with staff, none of this contributes to a better society.
It’s puzzling why so many in society settle for simply locking people up as a solution. Why do we turn a blind eye to the daily abuses in our prisons? Why is such a barbaric system acceptable to anyone? Would they wish this for one of their loved ones? Chances are that we all know someone that we care about who is locked up. My hope is that it’s simply because people are truly unaware of what is going on. That is where I hope to come in. My prayer is that my writing will bring positive change for all – inmates as well as society.
Where I’m housed, on an inactive yard, many of the people here have spent time on active yards. That kind of lifestyle is hard for them to let go of. After eleven years on this yard I’ve not only seen a lot of staff come and go, I’ve seen a lot of violent inmates, too. Tell a man he has no reason whatsoever to be productive, kind, and live decently, and many will not. Then put people like that amongst those who’ve not given up hope, but know they are on their own when it comes to their own safety and you encourage chaos. It’s dog-eat-dog; every man for himself. It’s not good and the following is a testament to that. Journey with me over the past few years if you will. This is my world, and will be for the rest of my life if nothing changes. The following is true to the best of my knowledge and recollection of the events:
It’s May, 2023 and we are locked down in our cells again. The population has progressively changed over the past couple of years, and it’s only getting worse. Inmates steadily trickle in during the COVID lockdowns, lockdowns lasting for varying amounts of time over the past year and a half. They last for months on end with little reprieve other than occasional showers. This goes on till mid-2022 or so. Gradually and slowly things are beginning to open up, as it is outside of prison. The type of inmate arriving on the bi-weekly buses has dramatically changed. More and more dropouts are showing up and seem to be on active time when they arrive. They really aren’t dropouts at all, just snitches showing up with lots of their old buddies. They come from active yards all over the BOP with the same mentality that they had when they left them.
Staff are on edge. Inmate-on-staff assaults have been on the rise. My unit, one of ten in use, is one of the most violent of all. The one fight I was unfortunate enough to find myself in (he swung first) has given me some level of respect. Despite my Christian faith, people know I won’t be pushed around easily. I’m somewhat grateful when I find out there are much softer targets in the unit for drug addicts looking for someone to steal from in support of their next high. I recall an incident in March of 2022 involving one of the most brutal beatings I’d ever seen. I watched as the inmate tried to run from his cell in fear, but to no avail. His assailant brutally swung haymakers at his head that then bounced up against the bars of the window he clung to. With each blow I witnessed a cacophony of laughter and cringing outside the window as gawkers gathered to watch from the nearby recreation yard. The only thing missing were the cell phones to record the event.
Why this inmate didn’t fight back I understand. He was not targeted because of his strength. Why he didn’t at least try to protect his head is beyond me. I look around for the officers on duty (C.O.’s). They’re tossing someone’s cell. This was intentionally timed by the assailant who goes by “Heavy.” The victim finally falls to the ground and attempts to cover his face. Blood is pouring from multiple orifices at this point; his protective instincts are futile. He is violently and repeatedly kicked in the head with heavy rubber prison-issued boots. His head whips back with every blow, eventually he falls limp. With his face turned away from the blows he rests in a large pool of his own blood. Just when I think he’s passed out or dead he tries to rise. Boom! Another kick that would send a football flying 50 plus yards lands on his jaw. Down he goes again. The whole event lasts five minutes or more. Heavy finally walks away and attempts to clean himself up. He changes his shirt and throws the old one in a shower stall. He walks around the unit talking to his buddies acting as though he’s done something noble. Meanwhile, his victim lies still in an expanding circle of blood. I’m certain he’s dead. Somebody walks up and takes his shoes that are sitting nearby. I find out later that the shoes are the cause of the brutality. Heavy wanted them and his latest victim wouldn’t hand them over nicely. Staff finally catch wind of what’s happened. It’s hard not to notice an inmate lying still in his own blood that now encompasses an area the size of a toddler’s swimming pool. Eventually we’re all locked secure in our cells, and staff flood the unit to quell a fight that was over long before any of them even arrived. The damage is done. Amazingly, I watch as the human football picks himself up off of the floor and lies down on a waiting gurney. He’s rolled away and would not return for many months; Heavy hasn’t been seen since.
There are lots of “Heavys” around here these days. Things can go south quickly. On another occasion I am sitting around minding my own business, unaware that several inmates are posting up around the unit (standing ready to do their part in whatever scheme they’ve planned). Another guy of a different race, who’s known to be a snitch and gets away with theft and violence because of the information he provides to staff, has finally met his match. He stole a large amount of K2 (synthetic drug) from one of the resident drug dealers and today is his day of reckoning. He becomes aware of what’s about to happen and runs for the front door where both of the C.O.’s are standing outside as the compound performs a recreation move. Yet again, the assailants have carefully selected this time because staff are preoccupied. He runs for the door and is tackled before he gets out. Two inmates proceed to stab him repeatedly in the body and face. Some reports are that he was stabbed over forty times. Before staff can contain the situation the knives (homemade “shanks”) are handed off to another inmate and flushed down the toilet. With the evidence gone the inmates prepare to be carried off to the SHU for an investigation. Here we go again; another lockdown.
People are resourceful and prison hustles are numerous. If there’s money to be made, inmates will jump at the opportunity. For those with money, prison is no different from society when it comes to keeping up with the Jones’. Whether it’s a pair of shoes no one else has or the latest creation of the electronics guy in the unit (e.g. speakers, amplifiers, or a high quality pair of headphones), there’s always money to be made if you’ve got something desirable. Shanks are no different. They’re easy enough to come by if someone wants one bad enough. Staff have even been known to trade for them. It’s said that they get eight hours of paid time off for “finding” one. In the wrong hands they can do a lot of damage. Today is proof of that fact. The stabbed up inmate is carried off to the hospital. I recall one officer’s comment, “I’ve never seen so much blood. It stayed there so long it started to congeal.” This was because the area had been taped off as a crime scene for the FBI to investigate. We stayed locked down for thirty-three days for this one. The inmate survived, barely. He’s now back in society as I write. It’s hard not to think he took something away from the incident, both good and bad.
Only three of the guys involved in the stabbing were identified and taken to the SHU. I know at least two of them were charged with attempted murder for their part in it. Foolishly, the Captain approved their eventual return to the yard. More on this later.
For several months the lockdowns were more frequent in coming, and often for much lesser offenses. Staff were being hyper-vigilant and the slightest uproar was cause for a lockdown. In October of 2023 word started spreading that someone was dead. Staff looked quietly concerned as they rushed everyone through lunch. Half way through service the doors were locked and inmates were pushed back from the windows of the corridor outside the chow hall. When I saw a covered gurney roll past I knew the rumors were true. We’re in for it now, I thought. When I finally got back to the unit I was immediately locked down. The whole prison was. Being a suicide companion I get news pretty fast about what’s going on in situations like this. Administrative staff typically allow “essential” inmates to work at times like this. Like companions, the hospital orderly is also essential, and works in the same area where suicide watches are conducted. He also cleans up blood spills. I’d never seen him so shook up as he was that day. He described a putrid smell and chunks of brain matter where the victim had his head bashed against the steel of his bunk and then stomped by boots. Over the course of twenty-four hours, more than half a dozen guys were taken to the SHU. Several showed up later on suicide watch. Some of the guys innocently looked in the cell window when rumors began to swirl. Others were seen on camera going in and out of the cell. Apparently the violence resulted from a sexual dispute of some kind and an inmate lost his life as a result. Unfortunately, this will not be the last murder here.
Three weeks later we were back to normal operations. Two more weeks passed and a big brawl broke out in my unit. I was in my cell at the time. An inmate running by my door caught my attention. As I peeked out I saw a native inmate closing on his tail. When I heard keys bouncing from the belt of my unit manager who was trailing both of them I knew we were in for it. Apparently the two inmates had been in a fight prior to running by my cell. When I came out to investigate the chase was making its way down the stairs on the other side of the unit. The one being chased made it to the bottom of the stairs only to be accosted by a waiting member of the native car. Before long other natives were on top of the guy kicking, punching, and stabbing. Eventually nine of them were involved. Staff came running in from everywhere screaming “lockdown” and spraying OC spray all over the mob. While I was choking and blocking the airways in my cell, the fight commenced. People had to be peeled off of the lone victim. When all was said and done, those involved went to the SHU. At least two knives, that I’m aware of, were recovered. One CO left with a broken wrist. Surprisingly, we were only locked down for two days for this one.
Roughly two weeks later we were locked down again for another stabbing and a minor staff assault. When the officer told the inmates involved to lock down, one inmate ran to get his friend’s tablet off of the charger. This is a common occurrence at times like these, but today the responding officer was having none of it. He proceeded to grab the tablet from the inmate who then bowed up ready to fight the officer after the fact. The officer, who told me of the incident weeks later, felt threatened and threw the tablet on the hard concrete floor. Because the now broken tablet did not belong to the inmate who retrieved it, he was furious. After bending over to pick it up off of the ground he grabbed the officer by the legs, and the rest is history. It did not end well for the inmate. Let’s just say he learned a hard lesson about following orders. The officer who broke the tablet was never held accountable for his part in the altercation. It was said that the inmate was shipped off the yard as quickly as possible for his own protection.
Two days later, Derek Chauvin, who was across the street at the medium security prison (FCI), was attacked and stabbed over twenty times. For this we all got to celebrate Thanksgiving 2023 in our cells. Fortunately, this lockdown lasted a mere nine days. I think they went easy on us this time because of the previous incident being exacerbated by a broken tablet. Of course, no staff would ever admit to this being the case, even if it were true.
On New Year’s Day, 2024, an officer was severely assaulted. An inmate with a mental health issue arrived to the yard on the bus. Instead of being placed in the one unit equipped to meet his needs, he was placed in a regular unit. He’s put in a cell that he quickly becomes agitated over. He doesn’t like his cellie and asks his team staff to move one of them. His request is denied. The inmate’s frustration mounts. What was already a bad situation has now gotten worse. The inmate’s temper begins to flare. During one afternoon count, an obnoxious C.O. kicks his door to gain his attention. This just adds fuel to the fire. With no other option to get out of the cell, the inmate takes off on the C.O. as soon as count is clear and the doors are unlocked. The C.O. took a fist right to the jaw and was immediately knocked unconscious. I never saw that C.O. again. I learned later that he lost a couple of teeth and his orbital bone was fractured. I never saw the inmate again either. I’m certain that no less harm was inflicted on him before he departed. Deserving or not, when an inmate strikes a staff member, nobody wins, especially the perpetrator. And the rest of the population takes the brunt of staff’s frustration. We’re all culpable as far as they’re concerned. None of the staff are held accountable for their part in the incident of course. This lockdown lasted thirty-nine days, but it doesn’t stop there.
Recall my mention of the Captain releasing the guys charged with attempted murder from the SHU. After several days of PBJ and Bologna meals, inmate anger begins to mount. After all, we did nothing to deserve this. It’s never fun and all too common to be punished, sometimes severely, for the stupidity of others. This was one of those times. Staff were performing shakedowns in the units taking two days in each one, searching for knives and other contraband. By the end of January, one of the guys the Captain released snapped on his cellie. A fight broke out and his cellie didn’t live to tell the story. News later spread that they got high and while one slept the other stabbed his eyes out. Those who could see from their cells tell tales of cold-blooded murder. Blood was everywhere and the assailant was expressionless the next morning when C.O.’s handed him his breakfast tray. They were shocked at the sight and radioed for assistance. Soon my unit was once again crawling with staff while the murderer was extracted from his cell under video surveillance. His cellie was dragged out of the cell on a blood-stained mattress. Rigor mortis had set in. When I saw him roll by uncovered on the gurney, his face was purple and his eyes were crusted black with dried blood. His right arm had stiffened and was resting on his pale white stomach. Staff hurried him out of the unit. Why they chose not to cover him is a mystery. It’s a gruesome image I’ll never forget. This is my reality! Incidents like these make shows like “Neighborhood Wars” look like an episode of “Romper Room”! The FBI conducted the investigation. This one resulted in even more severe shakedowns and again, continued to the end of a thirty-nine day lockdown. The Captain caught some heat for releasing the guy from the SHU, but paid no price for his actions as far as I know…
This was the final straw for someone higher up the administrative ladder. I believe we had seven murders over a year and a half period of time, and led the BOP at one point. Someone finally decided changes had to be made. Droves of people with gang affiliations were rounded up and sent to different institutions. It’s been nearly two years since the last murder took place. The violence has gradually lessened. There’s been two major lockdowns since then. The worst of them involved an officer being hit with a thrown chair while breaking up a fight. That lockdown lasted twenty-eight days, the other only nine.
Not too long ago they reclassified this yard as a “hard-to-place” facility and a lot of inmates previously shipped out were sent back. They are slowly returning and the level of violence is picking up once again. I’m sure that extended lockdowns are not far behind. It’s a never-ending cycle.
Society remains largely oblivious and strangely unmoved by the conditions of its prison system. Staff keep the media at bay as much as they can, partly because of their own culpability in the problems that exist. I hope my writing creates some curiosity and leads to positive changes for everyone. I’m doing what I can. I pray you’ll follow suit and do what you can as well. Nobody deserves to live like this, especially in the midst of a civil society. It’s time to sound the alarm on the inhumane conditions of America’s prisons. Lives depend on it.
Remember the prisoner as if in chains with them. Thank you to the few who care. It means the world to me.
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