Baptism

It had been over three weeks since my last interview and I continued to receive notices from the Civil Service for job openings for which I was qualified. I could pick and choose what interviews I wanted to apply for. I tried to do some research on the positions before making a choice. I had decided on interviewing for a position which would be stationed in a nearby county because I had a friend who worked there. He liked his supervisor, the people in the department, and the overall environment. It was a management position in the Secretary Treasurers’ Office overseeing vendor contracts. I made sure to clear my calendar so that I would be able to interview. When letting the principal know why I needed the time, he laughed, but said that it would be a good career move for me with my management back ground and degree. The day was set and I couldn’t wait. But sometimes this prison has other plans.

I was dressed in my best navy pinstripe Hart Schaffner Marx business suit. I wanted to make a good impression. I spent the morning completing one of my training requirements in the Administration building, and I would use the afternoon for the interview. At 9:30am in the middle of my training the “emergency siren” began blaring from the top of the chow hall inside the prison. This was not going to be a good day. From past experience, I knew something bad had happened or was happening right now. We already had our monthly emergency drill. This had to be the real thing. When the siren blows custody employees are in charge. We received directions to go to the lunchroom and wait for instruction. Our lunch room overlooked the prison grounds which were awash in color from over 20000 flowering plants grown in our greenhouse by my students. From the greenhouse they were then distributed to beds designated for them and prepared for planting. The officers felt the flowers made the prison look soft, and often referred to it as “Camp Candy Land.” Today the prison would earn a more sinister moniker.

From my window seat I watched as the yard cleared and prisoners returned to their respective housing units. Once cleared, I saw officers walking a prisoner backwards, hands cuffed behind his back, to our segregation unit. His face was expressionless. With the prison locked down I wasn’t going anywhere. Depending on the seriousness of what was happening or had happened, the prison could be locked down all day. On the sidewalk leading out of the administration building was the warden, three state troopers and what looked to be a detective. They were heading into the prison. Our trainer came into the lunch room and closed the door. He informed the class that it appeared an inmate had tied up his roommate, abused him, and then drowned him in the cells commode. The state police were here to evaluate the murder seen and gather evidence. The prison would stay locked down all day. I was aloud to make a phone call to the civil service letting them know I would not be able to interview today hoping I could reschedule. They were not sure, but would get the message to the Department Head I was to be interviewing with.

I waited to be reassigned. I felt overwhelmed and repulsed by the violence. Immersed in it, I now understood there would be no escaping the thought that I could be killed here. The unpredictability had me vexed. This was not “Camp Candyland.” In my head I said a prayer for the man killed, for the murderer. and for those working here. I also prayed for strength and protection. My colleagues and officers didn’t seem to care about the violence. Some had the attitude that as long as the violence was prisoner on prisoner, it didn’t matter. No staff person was assaulted. They were only concerned about the safety of themselves, their fellow officers and staff. Prisoners fighting and assaulting’ other prisoners was to be expected. This was prison, and things like that happened here. However, I was not prepared, nor do I think one can be prepared, for the unpredictability of the violence and depravity that can occur here instantaneously. Awash in this reality, I felt very uneasy working here, and again questioned what I thought I could accomplish. TO BE CONTINUED…

NATO getting stronger because of a “Russian Despot” SLAVA UKRAINI