Lockdown, Phoenix Style
By Richard Sean Gross
On Friday, March 13, 2020, Pennsylvania Governor Tom Wolf declared a ‘state of emergency’ in Montgomery County, where Phoenix Prison is located. As COVID-19 swept the planet, southeastern PA became a hotspot. Schools and businesses were closed. Society got locked down, just like a prison.
At Phoenix, in-person visits were terminated; an act which triggered riots in Italy’s prisons. The Department of Corrections (DOC) scrambled to establish video visitations, something that jails in other states already had. PA’s aversion to technology, however, once again, left it flat-footed. The Chapel was closed; all services broadcast on the prison’s cable TV channel instead. All volunteers and official visitors were banned, including the Villanova professors who teach college courses inside. With great difficulty, we managed to finish the semester by mail. Without internet access or Zoom classes, we had no choice. Two more semesters have now been done distantly. Not good for a university whose education model focusses on in-class discussion over rote learning. Eventually they developed a system where packets are delivered to my door and I give my homework to my counselor who sends it electronically to ‘Nova.
By the end of March, Phoenix was on full lockdown. I expected a two week quarantine. Infectious disease experts predicted a pandemic peak in a few weeks and a death toll of between 100,000 and a quarter-million Americans. None of us knew just what we were in for: Not Dr. Fauci, not Wolf, not Trump, and certainly not me.
H-Block had the first coronavirus death in Phoenix, which generated dramatic steps by the administration. We went on complete lockdown. No time out of our cells at all. We went without showers for eight days, from April 12 through 19 inclusive. Staff did twice daily temperature checks. There was a tense and frightened atmosphere among both staff and residents. I failed to see how denial of showers, sunlight and fresh air could be part of any healthcare protocol. I tried to express this viewpoint.
I filled out a grievance form and slid it into the doorframe, as we had no access to the mailbox in the dayroom. Someone took it from the door. It could only have been a staff member: a corrections officer (CO), counselor, or high-ranking official. I never saw it again. It was never answered. Legally, and according to DOC policy, they have to answer it. Although, in an emergency, normal protocols don’t apply. Normally, we are entitled to an hour of recreation per day, weather permitting. Policy provides for a number of hours to access the law library each week. In a state of emergency, these rights, among others, go out the window. Phoenix had three emergencies in its first two years of operation.
This pandemic has been an unusual emergency. Leaders at all levels have been reacting to events and numbers; making policy on the fly. Flying blind in uncharted territory. The administration does not want COVID-19 deaths among the prison population. Our comfort and desire for recreation are, obviously, lesser concerns for them. The activities department started passing out some Sudoku puzzles. I became a fan of Sudoku and NFL because of the months-long lockdown. Psychologists and the chaplains have gone door-to-door asking people if they are alright.
When we finally got out of our cages, we got 15 minutes per day. One day you could shower, the next day you could access the phone and kiosk to check emails and account balances. You could walk around the dayroom, as long as you didn’t stop at anyone’s door. Hard when you haven’t seen or talked to anyone for a while; hard because they want you to stop and use your precious time to address their needs. Best to just keep walking.
The main thing that bothers me about Level 5 Quarantine is that they don’t let us go outside. The denial of fresh air and sunlight certainly did not come from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). These things are essential to good health, and all staff I’ve spoken to agree. Generally, being outside in the pandemic has been considered better and healthier, as there is more room to social distance. We all have masks made for us by our own garment shop run by PA Correctional Industries.
There is a little door in the cell doors, called a wicket and all our needs come through it. Breakfast comes in a smooshed paper bag that comes out of a garbage bag holding a hundred bags or so. Dry cereal in a paper cup with a lid that is seldom secure. Bread that is usually stale; peanut butter, sometimes jelly. A couple of sugar packets and one with instant coffee. Lunch and dinner come in Styrofoam clamshell trays. The DOC must have bought a million of these environment killing containers. They often arrive crushed, dirty with food from other busted trays. Lukewarm at best. Often disgusting to see, inside and out. People with money for commissary don’t eat this crap. Later, they bought heated metal carts and plastic trays with lids. Promised us hot food; didn’t work out that way. Trays show up wet, food still lukewarm at best. The system just doesn’t work. Trays often fall on the floor. Wickets aren’t big enough for two trays to go through at once though most cells have two men. Delivery is slow, especially to top tier. They are quick to pick up the trays though, assuming you probably didn’t eat much of it.
I have found KYW Newsradio to be a better source of information than the prison’s administration. There was a newsletter passed out early in the pandemic. It said we would get similar, regular updates for the duration. We got two, maybe three, newsletters, and then nothing since. The rumor mill still operates though, called inmate.com by many. It furnishes speculation that may or may not be fact. Likely not. The block officers will usually tell you what they know. Problem is, I don’t think the administration keeps the COs very well-informed. They often insist that they are not told anything. I don’t always believe them though, as there are things we as prisoners are never told.
By the end of April 2020, we were coming out in four cell (eight men or less) cohorts. Cohort size increased going forward, and most expected the virus to go away by that coming summer. Some said Tokyo shouldn’t have cancelled the Olympics, as we would soon be out of the woods. On June 22, the administration posted the pictures of seven men who had died at Phoenix from COVID-19. I believe they did this thinking that the dying was over.
In July, I got a much-needed haircut and occasional access to the Main Yard (where I could finally get more than six-feet away from others). By August 1, America had 150,000 dead, and we realized that COVID-19 wasn’t going away anytime soon.
I have seen very few friends from other blocks. I don’t even see people on my own block if they aren’t in my cohort. Cohort sizes have varied from one to four, then eight, then briefly 18 cells in late-summer. At that time, I was getting occasional library passes and Main Yard one day per week. Nothing close to normal operations. Still, I spent almost all of my time on the block. By the end of September, America passed 200,000 dead.
While the medical department focuses on COVID-19, other services here are not happening. Good luck getting to medical or dental unless you are running a fever. I signed up for sick call to renew an over-the-counter supplement that I have to get from a doctor because they don’t sell it on commissary. I also wanted to weigh myself. I knew I’d gained weight since they first locked us down in March. The doctor never saw me; the CO didn’t open my cell door or call on the intercom. The script was renewed though; I found out from a nurse who delivers medications door-to-door. However, they don’t have a scale on the block, but they were not going to take me down to medical just for that.
On October 5, H-Block went down again: Level 5 Quarantine. Temperature checks revealed we had four possible cases. The four were taken away and tested. One came back. One of those who tested positive is a black janitor, who has benefited from the lockdown; he’s been out of his cell more than anyone I’ve ever seen. They open his door soon after 6AM count, and leave him out until nine or ten at night. I’ve never seen anybody out 15 hours a day. Under normal routine, we’d be lucky to get a cumulative total of six to nine hours, counting meals. This guy was on the phone most of the day. He was talking to staff and interacting with every other cohort the rest. No wonder he caught it!
There is a bank of ten phones in the dayroom. When all are in use, the men are shoulder-to-shoulder. No chance for social distancing there, but we could in the yard that we can’t get to. Many men pull their masks down while on the phone so they don’t sound muffled. The aforementioned block worker did repeatedly disinfect the phones over the course of the day, but it is still a super spreader spot. The kiosks are a little further apart, as there are three of them, with usually only two operable. All the people who own tablets want to connect each day. There are usually a bunch of tablets over there. It is one of the things guys want you to do for them if wickets are open. Wickets are opened around meal times, and sometimes left open for a while.
Restrictions eased for a little, before December 1 brought the most restrictive lockdown back. The days were short, dark and dreary. Everyone so sick of being locked in. No one getting along with their celly. There are still drugs in the prison, even without contact visits, contractors, official visitors or volunteers of any kind. Many guys have been sent to ‘the Hole’, making it one step worse for themselves. Others have sought psychiatric help, or taken protective custody lock-up (which is just ‘the Hole’, but by choice). There isn’t much psych can do when it’s the prison’s policies that are making you so miserable/suicidal. I wonder if there have been any suicides and they just aren’t telling us. COVID-19 deaths had only been posted once; seven dead by summer’s end. How many since? The rumor was 20.
I have had three cellies since the lockdown began. All three thought COVID-19 to be a hoax perpetrated by China and the Democratic Party. The first was lucky enough to be granted parole. Before the end of the shift, I got number two. He was ‘bottom bunk status’ like myself, and spent a few weeks getting medical to acknowledge that, and then got custody to move him to a different cell. After him, I had a brief period by myself, which recharged my psyche somewhat. My current celly has been trying to get transferred out of Phoenix for the entire time he’s been here. They always say “soon”. Eventually, I had to get away from his anger issues. He never did get transferred.
Mid-December saw 300,000 Americans dead. Never getting to grass yard, seldom seeing the library, nobody I know going to work. The kitchen workers are housed on one particular block; single celled and, I expect, locked in when not at work. The separation from friends, activities, workshops and classrooms is taking its toll. The ten-month lockdown has been hell, but how can you complain when they are trying to save your life?
By the middle of January, 400,000 Americans dead; two million dead worldwide. This ain’t no hoax. This ain’t no joke. By the time this is over, we will all know someone who is not with us anymore because of it. We’re all getting paid for jobs we can’t get to, and I have been lucky enough to receive financial support from the outside. The food we buy from commissary and inmate organization fundraisers is essential. It is the only good food we get. The highlight of the week is when commissary is brought to the door, usually by staff, sometimes by inmate workers, depending on the current level of quarantine. Numerous products are repeatedly out of stock. Shoes and clothing are almost impossible to get. Most other products are hit or miss. Current information on availability is not provided.
February 2021 brought the nation to half a million dead and rumors of vaccination to the prison. We were told we would get the Moderna vaccine “soon”. I know what ‘soon’ means to the DOC; could be tomorrow, or two months away. I expected a full year on lockdown and no real change until we are all vaccinated. I couldn’t wait. No question for me whether I take it or not. I just wanted out of my cell!
Two more cellies, and four dead men’s pictures on the bulletin board. I know of other dead, but many told the administration in advance not to post their pictures if they die. The total death toll won’t ever be known by me. Not that important really. This prison, this world, will never be the same after this pandemic. Some things lost will never be seen again. People say we may never go back to the chow halls. We’ll be lucky when/if visitors can come back in.
There is so much that I think we should learn from all of this. Single celling would be compatible with quarantining, mass incarceration is not. For years now, we have been lobbying the PA State legislature to allow parole eligibility for lifers. PA is one of only five states where ‘life’ means natural life (i.e. until death). This pandemic provides the latitude for politicians to release prisoners. California released 8,000, while New Jersey reduced its numbers of incarcerated people by 35 percent. A much touted reprieve program for elderly at-risk prisoners in PA was expected to release 1,200; in the end, only about 160 were released. One quarter of PA’s prison population is over-50. According to the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), an average recidivism rate of 60 percent falls to a miniscule two percent for people over-50, while the cost of providing their medical care rises steadily with age.
At the beginning of April 2021, there were 550,000 dead nationwide. Over 100 PA prisoners and a dozen DOC staff are dead. I’m still waiting for the vaccine. They did haircuts for A-Side of H-Block, and then somebody tested positive. They go into lockdown, and I won’t be getting a haircut for a couple of more weeks.
By the start of May, I’d grown tired of keeping track of the death toll. After an abortive start – caused by a sudden death and a federal pause – on May 4, I got the Johnson & Johnson shot. We have been told that the 15-month lockdown will end July 1, when a “new normal” will take effect. But I know what that means: NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN!
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