MJ-Way

The Kinross four is how I remember this event. The story appeared in Esquire magazine in 2008 with an emphasis on the inmates who tried to escape, and how they were very successful at the prison manipulation game. Three had life sentences, and two even had past records of attempted escape, but yet they were able to keep a cell on the end of the unit right next to the fences. They even were able to secure the cell across from them. They included the occupants of that cell in their plan to escape. For the most part they had total loyalty to their cause and no one knew, not their friends or other prisoners, of what they were working on for the past two years. The fact that they were able to keep others from knowing what they were doing was a fete within itself. The prison is full of snitches. Even though snitching in prison will usually get the snitcher what they call in prison “a buck fifty” ( their face slit with a razor melted into a tooth brush handle from ear to chin) it still does not prevent the snitchers from snitching. However, they planned their escape so well and had total loyalty from their team. No one worried about snitches.

They pretty much had everyone believing they were old guys just doing their time but were able to secure rooms right across from each other at the end of the unit. With that accommodation they were able to dig a tunnel right out of the prison and prison officials were very glad, for the moment anyways, that a diligent officer found it. Officer M from her experience always mistrusted inmates and rightly so. Inmates hated officers and called them the “poepoe” short for police. Female officers would constantly receive unwanted attention and sexual innuendo comments from them. Officer M was a good officer and people who did their job well in the DOC were not liked by the inmates. She had suspected that something was wrong. The attempted escapees blamed a towel they forgot to hang up for her checking their room thoroughly but that was not the reason. She smelled smoke in their room, and tobacco was now banned in the prison. Prisoners were smoking tea from the tea bags which were rolled in pages from the bible, and she knew what that smelled like. In their room she kept smelling tobacco smoke. No matter how much she checked she could never find it. No matches, no lighters, no rolling papers, and no bible with the pages torn out could be found.

After checking their individual locker spaces she stepped back onto the tile between their beds and felt a soft spot. She figured that’s where they were hiding it. After lifting the tiles, she saw a hole stuffed with what appeared to be sandbags and as she kept pulling out the sandbags, the hole appeared to be much larger than she originally thought. She immediately called her supervisor. Once the supervisor saw the hole he called the control center and the unit was put on lockdown. The inmates on that wing were told to go to the day room. The inspector and assistant deputy warden along with the captain removed more of the sandbags and found that it was a tunnel. The tunnel they dug actually passed the security perimeter. They just needed to push up at the end of their tunnel and voila, they would be out of the prison. However, they never got the chance. The prison was immediately put on lock down and an emergency count of prisoners was under taken. All the prisoners were accounted for and the four who had attempted this escape were put in segregation. One of them began snitching on the others and they would all be eventually transferred to a maximum security prison. The prison administration were saved from what would have been a career ending incident, and much embarrassment for the DOC. I had informed our new deputy, who had been promoted from that prison to our facility, that he should at least send officer M flowers on the anniversary of the day she found the tunnel. She literally saved his ass from being fired, and his DOC career. He ignored me and walked away. His arrogance was palpable. I never did congratulate him on his new promotion. Not that it even mattered. .. TO BE CONTINUED…

Putin’s continuation of the assaults’ on a sovereign nation are being documented. He needs to be arrested and brought to trial. Slava Ukraini God bless the heroes

The first two years of employment with the DMC for me was a whirlwind. I took my mentor’s advice and kept a low profile. I was trusted as an employee, looked up to by our current administration, and learned more than books could teach me about life working/living in the heart of the city. This was literally a medical city within a city. Most of all the buildings and hospitals were connected by tunnels. The only outside I would see would be when a special lab request would have me looking for and address or building within the confides of Wayne State University. I was always given the task, because I enjoyed it, locating a special lab or Doctor on the campus. I found them in what I would term some of the most remote urban areas. They could be located on the third floor of an old house or building that had only staircases. It would not be uncommon for the first two floors to be vacant and the Research Labs to be on the top floors. The researcher’s always seemed happy to see me with the lab envelope carrying a specimen. They would stamp the slip as received and give me back my copy for the lab report. They knew I was a student, and they all spoke highly of the sciences. They had hoped I would find the sciences as fascinating as I did finding them and their labs in theses obscure places. I did. Science always fascinated me.

However, after enjoying the first two years of working for the DMC-labs, I was brought to a meeting with the Facility Maintenance Director and the Administrator overseeing the Hospital’s renovation plans. They had a proposal for me. They wanted me to take a position within Facilities Administration overseeing the renovation projects the hospital was now actively engaged in. Every nursing unit throughout the hospital system would be renovated. They would close one nursing unit and move them to a brand new renovated nursing unit. My job would be to follow a punch list and make sure the contractor’s work was completed. This position would be at night. They knew I was in school so they thought it would be a good way to complete my Bachelor Degree. I would be paid at a supervisor’s pay scale and my hours would be prorated so that I could continue my studies during the day. I was scheduled to work 24-32 hours a week getting in around 3:00PM and leaving by 11:30PM. Management would be flexible with my schedule. They needed someone to follow-up on the contractors, “would I be interested?” They thought it would give me a chance to see what Hospital managers do, and I agreed to do it. I was in the last year of finishing my Bachelor of Science degree and I needed the flexibility in scheduling to complete the requirements for the degree. They even offered me a free apartment in the Medical facility in case the weather got bad and I didn’t want to risk the travel.

It was an offer I could not refuse to pass up. I told the hospital administration I would accept it. They couldn’t wait for me to start. Usually, the departments give each other a two week notice when transferring employees between departments. That was not the case here. I started the following Monday over seeing the contractors and cleanup of the old Grace Hospital deconstruction. It was really something. The place where Harry Houdini died, ( his followers still held seances in the room he died on Halloween), was no more. Kind of sad too because the Grace Hospital Cafeteria had some of the best home cooked meals that cost only $1.10. I would definitely miss that. Once the old hospital was removed the site would be prepared for what would be the new ambulatory care surgical center. This was the beginning of my career with the Detroit Medical Center. It was were I was born, and where I grew into a man. I would eventually get married and my children would be born there. I had adventures and journeys that only this place could have taught me and I will never forget them or be thankful enough that I left the factories to work there. NEXT POST…Back at the prison…

Putin and his band of murder terrorist’s need to be held accountable for their war crimes in the Ukraine as they indiscriminately missal residential buildings and kill civilians. Russia is a terrorist state. Putin and his minions have stolen trillions of dollars from the Russian people for more than 20 years buying million dollar yachts, dachas, and funneling their ill gotten gains into accounts not easily traced. So they think. Note to Putin and his minions: Everything electronic is traceable. Slava Ukraine

He was busted in Detroit with 972 grams of cocaine in the hey day of the cocaine wars in the city I was born. In the early 1980’s and 1990’s Detroit’s gang activity began sky rocketing with the drug trade. Crack cocaine became the demon for the working class when 5 dollars could by you a rock and a whole lot of promise. 20 dollars got the executives working in the financial districts a line of blow which became the ritual with a martini at lunch if they so desired. Coke was king, and our busted protagonist thought he was going to make a killing in it. He was right in so many ways, just not the way he thought. With the financial districts reeking in the rewards from a good economy and their investor’s investments, those who thought cocaine was a good thing increased the demand for it. With increased demand comes increased supply and no matter how much money the Feds spent on the “war on drugs” he was going to make some easy money. So he thought.

On a hot summer’s night in 1993 our new found drug runner was going to make a transfer which would guarantee him at least 75,0000 dollars. He worked hard as a merchant fisherman in both Alaska and the Yukon. His friends in Detroit told him about the easy money being made in the drug trade. All he had to do was pick up the contraband and deliver it. He was told he could make a minimum of 50,000 to 75,000 dollars per delivery and that was enough for him to become a drug mule. Moving product is how he rationalized what he was doing. So when he was caught moving 972 grams of some of the best product this city would ever see, he was quite astonished. This time everything went so good he thought. He made a clean pick up, was paid half of his fee, and told he would get the other half when he delivered it. What he didn’t know was the people he was dealing with were all undercover agents, and that got him busted bigtime. So when he picked up the money for the delivery, he also received a pair of stainless steel bracelets, and his immediate arrest. He was one of many who became just another number with the “war on drugs.”

She worked her way up the ranks from a secretary to an administrator over the department of civil service making 57,000 dollars a year. He had been convicted of fraud and was to spend at least 15 years in prison. By answering his “looking for love personal” she would eventually share his distinction of being a convicted felon. I was first made aware of what this relationship had developed into by my school principal who knew the prisoner. The prisoner had been at our facility and moved to a prison in the north. It seemed the prison administration also had knowledge of their relationship. Her visiting him at our facility was restricted because of a misconduct the prisoner received for “inappropriate touching” her on one of many visits. The administration also knew how controlling and abusive this prisoner was towards her, and feared for her safety. What other steps they used to prevent her from visiting led her to invent a second identity with a validated license. She used this identity to visit him in his new location.

She used her new found skills to get him a fake identification as well. This was just the beginning of the spiral which would launch her into notoriety but not of the good kind. The question of why lingers like an emotional cut that will not heal. She obviously had some of those. Today she decided, from his abusive cajoling, that she would take helicopter flying lessons. The plan would be to fly a helicopter into the prison yard and remove her new found amour from his current predicament. Of course he explained to her that he was a political prisoner and took his fight to “the man- that being his only crime!” He was the proverbial “rebel for a cause. ” She loved the rebel and no matter how twisted the abuse became, she was determined to free him. They would live happily ever after she dreamed. She didn’t realize just how dangerous or delusional her rational had become. She even smuggled in, over one of her prolonged visits, a 22 caliber derringer with ammunition. He might have to use it to get to the yard where her helicopter would be waiting. They had a full proof plan. Anyone who stood in their way would have to be eliminated. God help them.

The day of reckoning was upon them. She had just enough flying experience to pilot a helicopter and believed it would not be a problem flying it into the prison yard for his escape She stole a helicopter as planned from a local small community airport and set her sites on the freeing of her boyfriend, soon to be lover. It was a perfect sunny, calm day, and she was feeling real confident, even giddy, at what she was getting ready to do. Flying low, so as not to be detected she thought, was her best plan. As she approached a lake she thought how beautiful it looked from her elevated position in the sky. It looked just like a mirror, and she began to loose her depth perception the further she flew over it. Loosing her altitude and confidence she crashed into the water shocked by what had just happened. The sheriff deputies who pulled her from the water knew the helicopter had been stolen and she was promptly arrested. They found a lot of money, 2 fake ID’s, and a 30 caliber automatic rifle with ammunition in the helicopter, and a sketch of her landing site inside of the prison. She also confessed to smuggling in a weapon for her boyfriend and he was quickly detained by the prison administration who found the gun. I filed this story under “what would you do for love.?” Unfortunately, in the prison these stories were not uncommon.

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Putin’s continue use of missiles against civilian areas in the Ukraine begs this question? The Ukraine gave up their Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles in an agreement that Russia would honor their borders. Since Russia is not honoring that agreement and has invaded, isn’t it time to give them their missiles back? I am quite sure they will know how to use them. Slava Ukraini

I was once again in uncharted waters. This was something I always enjoyed. Not having the slightest clue on what was around the corner but going around the corner anyways. The anticipation of having to ad lib for my own safety was what I had learned working in the factories. Here it was safe. No drugs, alcohol or horseplay. I collected the specimen from operating room 3 and proceeded to the microbiology lab. The laboratory supervisor was waiting in the reception office for me. He stamped the lab slip with a date and time taking it to the lab. He asked me to follow him. The labs were impressive. He informed me that they had the latest technology and he sure seemed proud. He wanted to know if I ever considered working for the laboratories. My immediate response was, “no.” I thought I kind of liked what I was doing in the Central Supply Department. He informed me that working as a currier for the labs I would have free reign of the medical center. I would have every other weekend off, work the day shift, and make more money per hour.

It did not take me long to figure out this was a win win for me, at least for the summer, because currently I was restricted to working nights, two weekends on, and one weekend off. I didn’t mind having days off through the week, but the weekends now I could be with friends if I accepted his offer. I would walk the entire 8 hours covering some 11 buildings and the Wayne State University campus, as well as meet young students and employees in my age group. I would also have two weeks paid vacation and planned on going to Montreal, Canada to see Stevie Wonder in concert. All short term goals but attainable. This offer opened a whole new world to me, and I accepted it with a resounding “hell yea!!!” We were friends from that day forward. I was young, very naïve, and impressionable. What I learned at the medical center books could not have taught me. Compared to the factories I had worked in, this opportunity was God sent. I truly believed that. I had all kind of plans for the summer and the medical center gave me new hope.

I found my friend who had told me to apply to the medical center. I offered to buy her dinner at the Grace Hospital cafeteria. For a dollar and ten cents you could get a full home made dinner with two scoops of home made ice-cream. She said she was watching her weight but would share my meal with me. Sounded great to me. They were nice size meals and easy to share. When questioned about why she thought she needed to watch her weight she informed me she “had too many jiggles.” I smiled and informed her that I didn’t think there was anything wrong with “jiggles.” She looked at me concerned and gave me the following advice: 1. I was young and naïve. A bad combination for working here. 2. I needed to be professional in all of my interactions in this hospital system. Especially, since the Hospital Administration is interested in promoting me. 3. This place is and can be an open soap opera as I found out in the operating rooms the other day. Don’t get drawn in to anything that compromises your integrity. 4. Enjoy the parties after work which she was sure I would be invited to but choose your friends wisely. I thanked her for the advice and for sharing a meal with me. She had just been promoted to a lead nurse in the intensive care unit, and was concerned I could get myself in trouble here. “Don’t ruin your chances for being promoted by making bad choices!” She was the big sister I never had, and a mentor. Her advice I appreciated and followed as much as my young heart would allow me. TO BE CONTINUED…

Putin’s continued aggression in the Ukraine will not be forgotten. Slava Ukraini

Psalm 116

After speaking with the hospital administration about changing my major to Business Administration, I had informed them I would have to think about it. In the mean time I was having a great time working here. The employees welcomed me and I actually got a tour of the Brewster-Douglas Projects were I shared a lunch with two of my new friends. They informed me that the Supremes, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, Joe Louise and Lilly Tomlin lived there at one time. I told them I just saw Stevie Wonder at the Olympia. He was fantastic. They were graduates of Cass Technical High School and were current students of Wayne State University studying premed. They wanted to know all about me and what brought me to seek employment at the medical center. I informed them that I didn’t feel safe working in the factories and that with all the horse play, drug and alcohol use I was concerned for my safety. A fellow classmate informed me about the medical center hiring and I applied.

At one point in the factory I told them I actually believed someone tried to do me in but the company nurse informed me it was just an accident. I had been cleaning a paint station which was supposedly turned off, but became activated gassing me to unconsciousness. I believe I had what doctors would later call NDE. (Near Death Experience) I woke up sitting on the floor against the wall with an oxygen mask on. The company nurse and what looked to be a medic walked me from the factory to the clinic. She informed me to continue breathing in the oxygen and I would stay here for the rest of my shift. I had made up my mind from then on I would find other employment, and here I am eating red beans with rice in the middle of the Brewster Projects with both of you employed at the medical center. I thanked them for their hospitality, and promised to bring them some home made Polish cuisine. They laughed.

Upon returning from our lunch break my supervisor told me to put scrub clothes on and my lab jacket. He wanted me to go to operating room 3, pick up a specimen, STAT, and take it to the microbiology lab. No problem I thought. I got dressed and rushed to the operating rooms as requested. Upon entering I put on shoe covers, a scrub hat, face mask, and hung up my lab coat. (Entering a sterile area protocol.) The operating rooms were not opened on the weekend so I figured this must be an emergency surgery since it was 6:00PM on a Saturday. A women I believed to be a nurse stood in the doorway of the women’s locker room. She addressed me as Dr. B… and reached behind her back . Before I could inform her I was not a Doctor, her scrub dress dropped to the floor and she was completely naked, accept for her mask and flowered scrub hat. I was shocked, eyes big as saucers, but not as shocked as her when I informed her I was not a Doctor. I told her I was there to pick up a specimen, and take it immediately to the microbiology lab!!! In her anguish she picked her scrub dress back up and told me to go to operating room 3. I asked her, “if I run into Dr. B…do you want me to tell him you need to speak with him?” She swore at me and went inside the locker room. I took that for a no and proceeded to operating room 3. This rookie was going to like working here for sure.!!! To Be Continued…

Putin’s army continues to wage open war in the Ukraine. He needs to be arrested along with his staff of enablers and brought to trial for the indiscriminate bombing of cities and killing of civilians. I pray justice will be forthcoming. Slava Ukraini

This is where life began for me. The Detroit Medical Center, Women’s Hospital ,later to be called Hutzel Hospital, is where I took my first breath, in the early summer 1955. I would return there nineteen years later on an offer of employment. After working in several factories and not feeling safe in any of them (early 1970’s rampant drug and alcohol use combined with heavy equipment made for lots of injuries) I was offered employment at the medical center. I had a friend from college who was also working there and she encouraged me to work there as well. The opportunities were abundant. I was nearly complete with my Associate’s Degree in Liberal Arts from a local community college and would have to pick a university to continue my study. They offered a full tuition reimbursement program. Something that was rather unique at the time. Harper hospital was known as a teaching hospital. This hospital system incorporated two schools of nursing and was affiliated with Wayne State University. Harper Hospital would merge with Grace Hospital in 1973 and become one of the largest health care providers in Detroit Metropolitan area. They became my world from 1975 through 1989. This bird returned to his proverbial Capistrano.

My extended families lived in the neighborhoods surrounding the medical center known as Pole Town. As a very young child I can remember meeting my Great Grandmothers and the smells of something always being cooked in their kitchens. The historic Polish- American, Roman Catholic churches on Canfield street, St. Albertus 1884, Sweetest Heart of Mary 1893, and St. Josaphat 1901, is where the communities of Polish Americans would flourish through the 1900’s. The African American communities surrounding the medical center also had a very rich heritage and I was glad to be welcomed there as well. On payday which happened every two weeks I could get for 5 dollars some of the best barbeque this side of the Mississippi River. It included two large pieces of baked bread, collard greens, macaroni and cheese. and what ever meat was grilled. It was usually chicken, ribs or fish but no matter the meat, it was the sauce that pulled it all together. I remember it all being delicious, especially the gumbos.

Being part of both communities was something I would cherish as I grew older. Being a part of the Detroit Medical Center was a learning experience I would never forget. My supervisors were always supportive and when I had classes they wanted to know how I was doing. If I had any problems in chemistry, biology, or anatomy I was encouraged to ask questions. When I did have questions I would be referred to the nearest expert who made sure I understood by having me complete problems, or answer their questions correctly. In Anatomy I ended up watching several autopsies and I was able to ace that class. I had completed all the life sciences and was prepared to embark on a medical course of study when I was approached by the hospital’s administration. They wanted to know how I was doing in school? When I told them I was doing well and what I was planning on doing they had an offer for me. Instead of continuing my studies for a medical career they wanted me to take classes in business management instead. They had big plans for the DMC and they wanted me to be part of it. This offer I would have to think on. To Be Continued….

Giving the prison stories a needed break. Thinking of life before teaching in the prison.

John 8:39-47

Alexander Solzhenitsyn was a Russian author exiled but latter returned to Russia. It is too bad his message has not been followed and history will repeat itself in Russia again thanks to Putin and his gang of thugs.

I was trained in my early years as a percussionist. I understood the importance of rhythm and timing as it applied to music. What I eventually became aware of is that timing is universal. In the plant world it was a task my tutors and I took on to keep growing a variety of crops from March thru November. A difficult task in a northern climate. At the same time, I still wanted to supply urban gardens with the same plant material. The perpetual garden utilizing the spring, summer, and fall months became a goal for my students to research and introduce varieties into our growing seasons which could enhance our yields. We would share that knowledge with our community. It wasn’t always that easy. We had plenty of failures, but we also had some success.

Over the years we were able to develop a plan utilizing several varieties of plants that enhanced our continued production. One of the unique varieties my students found was a sweet potato that would grow in our climate. The sweet potatoes would be one of our last plants harvested for the year and the yields were exceptional. Our local food bank was ecstatic when we dropped off over 200 lbs. of them for distribution just before the Thanks Giving holiday. Perfect timing. They could not believe we were growing sweet potatoes in the north, and wanted to know how we were doing it. I told them our students were responsible for finding the cultivars we could utilize. By the smiles on their faces I could tell they were happy with my students success.

But where we had our growing season timed, the plants to be grown and what we would harvest timed, I was not able to time my students departure. I had a vocational instructor in high school who was an exceptional instructor. He not only trained his students in all aspects of working in a metal shop, welding, machining, and metallurgy, he found them employment. I wanted to do the same for my students leaving the prison to become returning citizens. I was able to make the acquaintance of the President of Hantz Farms, Michael Score. John Hantz, the entrepreneur who created Hantz Farms, was an acquaintance of one of our academic teachers and had graduated from the same high school. Michael Score, the President of Hantz Farms, came to my classroom once a year to explain to my students the need for redemption both spiritually and mentally. He was an excellent inspirational speaker and I had made arrangements for one of my paroling students to contact him for employment upon being paroled. Our new Programs Education Manager, my past principal, instructed me to contact our newly hired Employment Coordinator and make her a part of this process.

Unfortunately, she had no idea of what I was talking about when I contacted her. In her defense, the position she had been hired to fill had no job description. She was the first. Our school principal who had been promoted to Education Manager in our states’ capital left a void that would not be filled quickly. I was left scrambling to organize the connection of my student to this potential employer, and was unable to accomplish it. My student was paroled but not to the place where he could work for this employer. My timing sucked. I had to explain to this potential employer that we were in a “state of transition” and that hopefully in the near future we could make better arrangements if they still were interested in hiring my graduates. He thanked me for trying and sent me the DVD “Land Grab” which he wanted me to show our students. The film was featured in the 2016 Heartland film festival. All I could think of was how easy my high school vocational teacher made it look for placing his students with local employers. He was my inspiration for trying to make a difference here. I just had to work on my timing. Mathew 18: 1-10

Putin’s armies continue an invasion of a sovereign nation. The Ukrainians are literally fighting for their lives as he continues to shell schools, hospitals, apartment buildings. and train stations. There is no justification for this war. He is blaming everyone but himself for the incursions, destruction and deaths his armies are causing in the Ukraine. I pray Putin and his minions will be brought to justice soon. Slava Ukrani

I had visited a number of prisons in the DOC and could honestly say they were run like kingdoms. The wardens wielded ultimate authority over their individual facilities. Nothing was allowed to be accomplished in them without the warden’s approval. In my career I had worked for five different wardens, and visited with countless others. They all had their own way of managing, but they all acted like kings or queens of their kingdoms. They had the last say on any and all programming. Sometimes it was difficult when the warden was obviously not happy with what was being proposed by the school administration. However, the school administration still expected the teachers to carry out all policy and program changes to the letter regardless of what the warden or his staff wanted. It was what the bureaucrats in our states’ capital wanted. This continued conflict was stressful for the teachers.

My new neighbor had to find out the hard way. After removing his computers from the current administrations’ offices, warden included, they were not happy with him. His only leverage was the programming he was completing with inmates was sanctioned through community grants and had a reporting mechanism. If he was unable to fulfill what the grants required he would report it. His monthly reports would make their way back to the bureaucrats in our states’ capital, and anything unfavorable would be addressed. The king would not be happy getting calls from state capital bureaucrats so he would send out his assistants to fix it. Fixing it took on a whole different meaning depending on how much they feared you. If they feared you they fixed it in your favor. If they didn’t fear you, good luck. My new neighbor they feared. He had no problems with accomplishing what the grant’s objectives were. He got the kingdom’s full support . They reasoned: the faster he got completed, the sooner he would be out of the facility, and knowing he was gone, the better.

My neighbor was sharp. Before the program he was working on in this kingdom ended he had processed the paper work to begin another. They were never going to be rid of him, and he would be letting everyone know on how the kingdom was treating him. I found it to be entertaining. He was helping the inmates who were paroling to his county with housing, getting their credentials, and possibly work. Later in his career he would actually be running a landscape company using paroled inmates, tearing down blighted housing, and making furniture from the wood. I found him to be genuine. Our kingdom administrators didn’t care for his honesty. He was critical of the school and prison bureaucracy and would make disparaging comments on the amount of people our new education manager had working for her in our state’ s capital. She didn’t care for him and began making the Business Technology Instructors throughout the prison kingdoms duplicate what he was accomplishing in our kingdom. She eventually pushed him out with the creation of Employability Councilors who would be doing the same thing. It was her way of saying thank you, and goodbye, saving the kingdom from a truth seeking usurper. Unfortunately, still occurring today at a much greater consequence. To Be Continued ..

Psalm 139: 13-24

Putin’s army is now responsible for executing civilians. Satellite imagery has proven this to be the case even though they deny it as a western fabrication. The bodies have been found strewn through out the towns and villages. Some in mass graves, partially burned, and partially buried. The surviving civilians have reported this to be fact. Terrorist Putin’s army is beginning to use portable cremation units so as not to leave any evidence. If he cannot be stopped in the Ukraine, we will be fighting him in Europe.

I was informed by our Business Technology Teacher that she would begin doing the GED Testing in our school. It was a great relief for me. I had been giving the General Education Development exams once a month for the academic school for the past 5 years. The paper exams were difficult to administer. The answer keys and exam books had to be accounted for at all times, and were renewed annually. They were secured in a safe in the principals’ office. Only the principal and I had the combination to the safe. The booklets had to be inventoried before and after every session, including making sure that all the pages were there, nothing had been ripped or torn out, and were mark free. The tests were all timed adding to the difficulty of administering them. The administrative protocols for sending in the individual student test answer sheets were just as difficult. Depending on the amount of students testing it could take me all week to process the exams. That meant that my students would be laid in (class would not be in session) while I gave the GED exams in the Horticulture classroom.

I was more than happy to have her become the GED proctor at our facility. I would only need to be the back up proctor, and help test twice a year to keep my GED proctor certification. I really enjoyed working with her. She was very organized and I often teased her that she helped me become much more organized when giving the exams. I was flying by the seat of my pants most of the time anyways. I had been storing the exams in plastic milk crates which in turn were stored in the safe. She professionalized the whole process with a locking combination, multi-folder, rolling, retracting handled suitcase! It fit perfect in our safe. Her taking over of the examination process left me more time to contact one of our local food banks. I got to take a tour of their facility and was mightily impressed with what they were able to accomplish for their community. “Neighbors Helping Neighbors” was the theme for this impressive establishment of hospitality. They were another great example of “walking the talk.” I was glad to spend time with them. They were our neighbors too.

I was asked if we could provide fresh vegetables once a week, and I informed her I did not think we would have a problem meeting that request. We could even supply plants for their community garden if she wanted them. She was happy to hear that and I made the arrangements to deliver once a week to the food bank. Returning to the prison I let our new school principal know about our commitment to support the community food bank once a week. She asked that I take pictures of the deliveries so that we would not be accused of any form of malfeasance. I agreed. Prisoners or staff when pissed off for what ever reasons could make all kinds of accusations which in turn would have to be investigated by the department’s internal investigation audit team.. The pictures would prove we made the delivery, and document our achievement. I finally got to speak to my new neighbor across the hall from my classroom and comment on how well his new classroom looked with his newly found computers. He smiled. It seems he had to piss off a whole lot of people to get back what was intended for his use only. Pandora’s box would never be closed now. The pushback would be forthcoming. “Welcome to our neighborhood.” To Be Continued...

A note of thanks to my colleague jrthumbprints.blogspot.com. I had the pleasure of working with him for over 25 years. His stories and interactions with the prisoner/students in the DOC are awesome. Check him out.

While our President gets pushback for his comment, “For God’s sake this man cannot remain in power,” Putin’s army continues killing civilians, women, children, and seniors in the Ukraine. There are reports the Russian army is using phosphorous ammunitions. They are relocating Ukraine citizens from Mariupol to filtration camps in Russia. He is doing this to his own people. He needs to be arrested and brought to trial. His henchmen believe the courts do not have jurisdiction over them. The Nazi sycophants hung for their crimes against humanity in Nuremberg, Germany October 16, 1946 thought the same thing. All for the quest of power.