MJ-Way

She was by far, the most talented, educated, and appreciative school principal I ever had the privilege to work for. She was only with our school for a short period of time, but with her as our school principal I could have worked much longer than I did. She was a great motivator and made the teaching staff know she appreciated their contributions. Our staff meetings were professional and she was informative. She had a doctorates in education but she did not make you aware of it. We called her “Dr. B” out of respect. A major shake up in our state capital and change in leadership would determine her fate, or how much longer she would choose to work for the DOC. The short time I worked for her I was elevated, and appreciated. She saw my passion for wanting my students to complete my class successfully. The job opportunities I had worked to get them, a fresh new start once released from prison, and for making the prison ground laboratories a show case for their work. She affectionately called me “the wizard.”

Our school secretary, who was out again on a stop order, she referred to as “slime ball”, was being investigated again and was not part of her administration. It was amazing how well everything ran without him. He wasn’t missed by us. She divided her time between our prison and a prison in a nearby county. She also brought staff that came with the closing of the prison in Detroit. Much needed, accept for an arrogant Trades Instructor, who secured his position by calling the director. He wasn’t taken seriously by staff. They thought he was a name dropping weasel. He thought this Administration and teachers saw his important contribution to prison education. He was delusional. He wasn’t able to get students easily, and the students he did eventually get made bird houses. He didn’t have a problem making items with team names on them and never was questioned about trade mark violations, or infringements. This was the perfect department for him. He reported to no one, acted like he was in charge, and did most of what ever he wanted. He even had the audacity to question teachers who had full classrooms, when he had no students, but was being paid an Instructors salary.

I questioned his reporting. As his colleague, I knew he was responsible for turning in monthly utilization reports. He wasn’t turning in utilization reports because he didn’t have students. It wasn’t long before he was forced to move to another prison where he eventually retired. I was glad to see him leave but changes in our department administration would mean the end of our current principal’s employment with us. She was asked to take over two prison education departments over 150 miles from her home in the city. Her husband had terminal cancer and she didn’t want to be that far away from him. I felt the new administration new this and forced her hand only to remove her. A real slacker was appointed by the administration to fill her shoes at our prison whom mostly echoed the current administration’s ineptness. She became friends immediately with our school secretary who was back to work after being on administrative stop orders. A school administration of pure garbage would follow. The good Doctor never knew how badly she would be missed. The new principal and school secretary would eventually be fired after causing much turmoil with our staff, our department, and custody staff, but that will have to be a story for another day. TO BE CONTINUED..

The Ukraine will find justice when this murderer is brought to the International Court of Justice, “The Hague.” His days are limited. Slava Ukraini Glory to the heroes

CL was my first African American Horticulture student and he was selected by me to be a potential tutor once he completed the class requirements. He was bright and non confrontational. Something he seemed to keep learning after killing a man over what he now called “a bunch of nonsense!” He would spend the rest of his life in prison over it. No parole. After interviewing him for the class, I was surprised to find out he had been working for a demolition company we had used at the Detroit Medical Center before “catching his case,” as he referred to it. I thought what a small world I live in, and how interwoven relationships are. The DMC was my family. I had grown from a young college student into a responsible adult earning an Associate of Arts, Bachelor of Science, and a Master of Arts degree using their tuition reimbursement program. The company he had worked for helped in the demolition and expansion of the Detroit Medical Center. I had a great respect for him. He acknowledged he messed up and accepted his fate. .

He completed the requirements for my class and earned his certification. I hired him for a tutor position in my classroom. By hiring him I was able to attract younger African American students to Horticulture and hopefully give them the skills they needed to be successful once they left the prison. It was always an uphill battle for my students involved in the drug trade. I had seen it first hand when I worked at the DMC, and I was seeing it here at the prison. The greenhouse, garden and grounds were viewed by my critics as nothing more than a plantation. Many imprisoned on drug charges viewed themselves as political prisoners, and my Horticulture class was the “man’s way of saying they needed to be back on the plantation.” This convoluted logic I worked to change through out my career. CL helped by being a positive role model and he brought integrity to my program. He explained as he recruited all the benefits my class could offer them, and the waiting list grew exponentially. I lost contact with CL as he moved on to pursue an opportunity in maintenance, and he was transferred to a prison in Detroit.

Towards the end of my career of 25 years I was surprised to run in to him again. He was now working as a monitor in our new psychiatric housing unit and couldn’t seem happier. The prison in Detroit had been closed and he asked to be transferred back here. He also explained that his sentencing judge had been out to visit him and he was shocked. That just doesn’t happen. He believed it to be an answer to his prayers. I had to agree. The judge was getting ready to retire and was looking at the prison records of all the inmates he had sentenced and he came across CL. He could not believe that in his 25 plus years of imprisonment, CL had nothing but good work reports, and evaluations in his file. He had been ticket free, and never given a bad report. The judge thought that was incredible and he wanted to know if CL was remorseful for killing the man he had been imprisoned for. CL explained that he was and that just recently he had to bury his father. That pain was unbearable. He now knew of the pain he created for the family of the man he killed and was very remorseful. He recognized it was a sin to murder, and he became a model prisoner as part of his repentance. Though he had to admit it was not an easy road to follow in prison.

He said the judge looked at him and shook his head. All he kept thinking was that this was impossible. For his sentencing judge to be talking to him in the prisoner visiting room and rehashing his case on an autumn Sunday afternoon was mind boggling. Most guys would be watching football games. He then informed me that the judge smiled at him and informed him that he would be recommending CL be released from prison at a public hearing at an undisclosed date. CL would be brought to that hearing by the DOC. They said their goodbyes and CL was still in a state of shock. Just like the judge had told him, CL was brought to the public hearing in belly chains and handcuffs. The judge reviewed his prison record for those in attendance, and made his recommendation that CL be released from prison as time served. His prayers had been answered when he received a letter from the judge’s office explaining that he would be released. CL was glad to have run into me 25 years earlier, and for everything I had taught him about life, but mostly ,for being a positive role model for him. I explained the feeling was mutual. He brought integrity to my program and for that I am grateful. I wished him well on his upcoming release, and we said our goodbyes. I am certain he is making a positive impact in his community. TO BE CONTINUED….

Putin’s war and invasion of the Ukraine continues. His propaganda is reminiscent of another who made similar mistakes and met a tragic end. I believe his fate will end in the same way. Slava Ukraini Glory to the heroes.

This was not going to be easy. I was called by the union to inform me that the contracted nurses from Canada were hired by the State Employer as employees and they elected to be represented by UAW Local 6000. I was to meet with them asap and welcome them to the union. They seemed very happy when I met them for the first time in the training room in the Administration Building and gave them all the current contract UAW Local 6000 had agreed upon with the state employer. The first thing they wanted to know was how their seniority was going to be determined? I was stumped, and thought this should have been worked out before being hired. I called the Union and asked for clarification on this issue. They needed an answer because the sick time and vacation accrual rates needed to be determined. Seniority was also used in the offer and assignment of overtime work. They were all contracted from the same company as well. The employer listed the start date as the date they accepted employment with the state. Again, complicating the issue because they accepted State employment on the same day. Our employer wasn’t keen on the details. It was left to me to hammer out the details, and believe me when I say that “hammering” was what I had to do.

The seniority issued was resolved with the date being used when they began working for the contractor. It was great to get this resolved. Health Care at the prison was unique. To have dedicated professionals working with us as part of a team was even more important to our overall mission. Having worked in health care prior to teaching in the prison, I had a good idea of what the nurses would be facing here. Between the prisoner’s and the administration’s demands they would be hard pressed. They showed a lot of positive enthusiasm and I was glad to represent them. As what always seemed to be the case, when the employees had their department operating well, an incompetent manager was hired to run it and prove how bad a manager they were. So in a three year span our new nurses had a couple of new bosses and a number of new reporting relationships. It never failed to amaze me at those hired to be managers. The governor had eliminated the civil service examination process and manager’s were hired by the “good-ole -boy,” better known as, “who do you know and not “what you know” method. This process provides much managerial inbreeding and results in dysfunction. The number of law suits settled in court and out of court in favor of the employee plaintiffs is the tale of the tape.

In my last year of representing the nurses, I got to see one them promoted to the newly created Heath Unit Manager position, and was happy for them. Timing was everything, and while demonstrating to my students on the proper way of pruning, I took off the tip of my left index finger. My first reaction to inform my students that making sure your fingers were no where near the pruners seemed moot. The blood traveled quickly over my hand and arm. An officer who saw my distress immediately wrapped my hand, radioed for my supervisor, and took me to Health Care. His partner collected my students tools and sent them back to their housing unit. I felt like an idiot. My thought, “this was a good lesson for my students on what can happen if you are not careful,” seemed ludicrous. Once inside Health Care the nurses hurried me to a procedure room where they unwrapped the dressing which was now soaked in blood. They asked me if I knew where the tip of my finger was, and my response was, “its not on my finger ?” They shook their heads no, and smiled. This was going to be a long day. They cleaned my finger, hand and arm. I didn’t feel anything as they rewrapped it and sent me to the control center where an officer was dispatched to drive me to our local hospital emergency room. I felt a sense of calm. The nurses cared for me as much as I had cared and represented their grievances. The respect was mutual. TO BE CONTINUED .. Readers go to the next web site to see what mad man thug Putin is lying about in his war to exterminate Ukrainians. Slava Ukraini Highlight and right click.

https://youtu.be/fzIPwR-FHEM

My supervisor reminded me that just because I was the facility union representative did not mean that I could neglect my classroom. I was expected to still hold class. Any investigations I was involved in with our union members had to be conducted on my time. This issue was going to be my very first conflict with my immediate supervisor. In the beginning he had to divide his time between our facility and another facility to the north west of us. So if I had union business, I would try to conduct it when he wasn’t at our facility. This was the easiest way of avoiding the conflict with him. Another way was for me to conduct my business over the telephone. Unfortunately, I did not have access to a telephone in my classroom from the beginning. However, my colleague across the hall from me, our Food Technology teacher, did. She would even listen to our members complaint and give me the heads up on what was happening. That gave me time to review the contract and go on the offensive. In the beginning most of the grievances were basic protocol issues, and I could get settlements at the first or second stage of the grievance procedure. Tardiness, call off, and overtime issues could usually be settled in those stages, and from the beginning that was the majority of my cases.

The most difficult cases, however, were immediate terminations. For those, I was always called to come to the Warden’s conference room. When the call went out for me to report to the conference room , my colleagues would always wonder, who is it this time, or if my employment was being terminated? It always amazed me that my boss didn’t have anything to say about me being on union business when I was called to the Warden’s conference room. I would lay in my class (send my students back to their housing unit) letting him know I wouldn’t be teaching. He would just shake his head OK and acted like nothing was happening. I have to admit that I was always hesitant. Not knowing what was awaiting me in the Warden’s conference room could be stressful. I tried not to think about it and said a prayer for strength. Our school officer informed me that he just received a call that I was to immediately report to the Warden’s conference room. He would take care of my classroom, and let the principal know I was called. It was not the usual way I received notice and I was concerned as I left the school.

As I passed through the gate leading to the Administration Building an officer showed me a stop order that was placed on one of the school’s Administrative Assistants. “Stop Orders” are only placed on staff when an investigation is being conducted for rule violations. The accused are not allowed into the security perimeter of the prison until the investigation has been completed and they are found not guilty. I thanked her for the heads up. I had a good idea now of what I would be facing. As I entered the conference room, the Administrative Assistant from the school, the Warden, and Inspector entered from the Warden’s office. They did not look happy. The Deputy Inspector informed me that the employee had requested my presence. They began laying out their case against her and it was not good. She was having an intimate relationship with one of her inmate clerks and the Inspector had been recording her telephone conversations made through a third party. It was damning evidence. I felt very sorry for her and could tell she was embarrassed having me hear the recordings. I wanted to know how long this had been going on, and the Inspector informed me for over six months with 40 conversations recorded., and they also had the letters she wrote him. The inmate and his relation(third party) also gave statements about the relationship. I had heard enough. I asked management to leave the room while I spoke with her.

I had to inform her that by law they were required to press charges against her. At first, she didn’t believe me but when I showed her the MLS and DOC Policy she started crying. She realized she could really be prosecuted and go to prison. She was in a position of authority over the inmate, and his statement was that, “he didn’t want to lose his prison job so he obliged her.” This is totally messed up I thought. He obliged her? Total-garbage.! He was a total manipulator and she was his prey. She had a Master of Science Degree, and was being paid a good salary with benefits. I asked her, “why on earth would you mess that up?” She tearfully said, “Her heart has no limits.” Without being too crude I informed her,” I hope your unlimited heart likes prison. If they press charges, that’s where the heart will be.” She asked me, “what should she do.? ” My response was “to get a good lawyer.” She asked, “what if I just resign.” I informed her to only offer her resignation if they are willing to sign documents that they will not press charges once she leaves.

I also informed her to hire an attorney for her protection, and reputation. She could make an argument of her vulnerability and management’s inability to diffuse this in its early stages. She looked at me with teary eyes and said, ” you should be a lawyer.” I shook my head no. I felt drained. I didn’t want to talk to her about this any longer. I knew I could not save her job, and asked management to come back into the room. They were quick to point out that with the new laws and policies she will be facing prosecution. I made my plea on her vulnerability and managements not intervening in the early stages. This was not my first termination case at this facility and I felt that management had a history of waiting too long to address issues when they knew an employee had been compromised. We were at a standstill. Then against my advice, she offered her resignation. Management’s answer was, “by resigning her employment they would not press charges.” I wanted everything documented and it was. I never saw her again after this meeting and I felt exhausted. This termination was painful, and there would be more to come, unfortunately. TO BE CONTINUED…

Psalm 63 Slava Ukraine God bless the heroes

I was elected union steward by default. The unionized teachers and staff sitting around a conference room table were asked at the last minute to become union stewards by the chief union steward working out of parole and probation in Mt. Clemons. Michigan. He would train anyone who volunteered. I wasn’t paying attention as usual, (not uncommon with a hearing loss that was unknowingly getting worse) but was reading the documents the union gave us. I hadn’t noticed that everyone had stepped away from the table as they left the room. I was the only one left at the table. I was informed by the chief union steward that by default I had been elected to a three year term. I personally didn’t think it worked that way but was willing to do my share. Nobody was left in the room but me. I was a trained MBA, had experience in labor relations, and understood the process from management’s side of the table. I was also informed that by being the union steward I would have “super seniority” at this facility. I didn’t know exactly what that meant. Super, in the languages I knew, was a good thing. So I decided to give it a try.

He was happy as hell that I would volunteer for the position and set up my training at the Union Hall in Lansing. The training would be with other union members becoming stewards as well. I couldn’t wait. I thought it would be interesting and it was certainly that. I met a young man who informed me that he had just won a settlement for a staff member in excess of 400,000 dollars. I thought for sure he was embellishing the amount but the chief steward who signed me up for the training congratulated him on winning his case, brought against a warden at another prison facility, who defied the Federal Authorities and had to be threatened with imprisonment to testify at the trial. This wardens’ testimony was so damning for the state that the award was given immediately to the plaintiff. I wanted to know what happened to this warden, and was told he was promoted. I couldn’t believe it. In the private sector he would have been terminated immediately for malfeasance and incompetence. I was told, “not here!” These kinds of cases are badges that get incompetent managers promoted.” I thought out loud,” this encourages bad management.” Their response, “exactly, stick around and you will see a lot of bad management, at all levels of the hierarchy, and you will be representing people who have to deal with it every day.”

When I returned to the prison my supervisor asked me, “what did you think of your training?” I informed him about the warden who just cost the DOC a 400,000 dollar settlement. “War stories” he said as he walked away. So much for that I thought. I later found out while speaking with Joe H, our special education teacher, (one of the best teachers I had ever met and worked with) that the warden I had spoke of was now the administrator over prison education, and our supervisor’s friend. That’s why I received such a curt response when I mentioned the settlement. Joe informed me that there was so much mismanagement in this department and many other state departments as well. I wanted to know what evidence he had of his claim. He laughed, and said, “you have a Bachelor of Science Degree in Public Administration and Public Policy and a Master of Arts Degree in Business Administration and you want me to show you evidence?” He had a point. Max Weber did have a few things to say about bureaucracies.” But okay “, he stated. Then he informed me about a website where all the current payouts (hush money) in all of the state departments were tabulated and recorded. I was shocked when I saw the amounts. Now, I thought as a new union steward, I had more on my plate than I could handle. The next three years will be interesting, if not stressful. To Be Continued… For my readers: If you are interested in the lawsuits. www. senate.michigan.gov/sfa/publications/ lawsuits

Matthew 6: 9-13

Alexander Solzhenitsyn: “Unlimited power in the hands of a limited people always leads to cruelty.” The Gulag Archipelago 1918-1956 https://youtu.be/MeW_3X6DWwc

I was working late on an August 4th night in my second year as an executive at the Detroit Medical Center. On my way out of the building I had heard on our hospital police radio that a man had just shot a man in the head on the campus of Wayne State University. They sounded frantic and were saying that the suspect, a young African American male, was running towards our hospitals. He was armed, and dangerous! He was also being pursued by the Detroit Police Department and the Wayne State University Police. I thought as I reached the second floor of the parking structure that I would stop at our hospital security booth on my way out and check on what was happening. I never got the chance. I heard officers yelling for a man to drop his weapon and then nothing but an exchange of gunfire that seemed to go on forever.

I learned that day what a bullet sounds like when it ricochets, and when it strikes a body. He must have been hit at least a dozen of times. By the time I arrived on the ground level, I was informed that two of our officers had been hit. One in the arm and one in the foot. The suspect was handcuffed to a stretcher and taken to Detroit Receiving Hospital. The officers were treated at our hospital. The assailant, they didn’t think he would live. They showed me his picture. He was only 16 years old and a known assassin for a local drug gang. The cocaine wars were having a negative impact on our city, and the hospital’s administration scrambled to keep this incident out of the headlines. It was also the reason I left the medical center for a job with the university hospital in Indianapolis a year later. I thought it would be safer there. I was wrong. They had all the same problems as Detroit but on a smaller scale.

One year after returning to Michigan upon the death of my father, I accepted a teaching position with the Department of Corrections. I was working on my plan for the following days class assignments when our athletics director approached me about a storage issue. He happened to be with the young man I thought to have died from the exchange of gunfire in Detroit almost ten years ago. The Director asked me,” what was wrong? I looked like I had seen a ghost.” “I think I am looking at one.” I replied. The young man smiled, nodded, and then walked away. I explained to the Director what had happened in Detroit and that I had thought him to be dead. The Director said, “he thought that too, but he was hired to do a job, he did it, and wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.” He then informed me the young man is a practicing witch and attributes his life being saved to his Wicca religion. My reply was quick. ” I understand that. They accepted him. No judgement. However, I think his Creator may have a different view of his career path.” The Director smiled, and walked away… and I again questioned myself, what the hell did I think I could accomplish teaching here? Hebrews 10: 19-25

Putin continues his invasion of the Ukraine a sovereign nation. If he is not stopped there, we will be fighting him in Europe. Slava Ukraini Glory to the heroes

It was not supposed to go down like this. His hatred for his family because of his continued arguments with them (about his chosen life-style), led him to be tossed out of the house by his father. His mother and brother also agreed with the father’s decision. It was time for him to leave. He had just turned 18 years old, and he wasn’t listening. His band, music, and drugs was all he cared about. Feeling good and enjoying himself was his only goal at the moment. Now his dad had to complicate things for him by tossing him to the street, and the family let him know he was no longer loved by them. He contributed nothing but arguments and needless stress to this house, and his family had enough of his nonsense. Their feeling towards him made him bitter and he hatched a plan. I’ll show them!

So on thanksgiving day, a day celebrated by families as a day of giving thanks to the Lord, he killed them all. Mother, brother, grandfather, father, and brother’s girlfriend. He executed them. Shooting them in the head with his father’s .22 caliber revolver. He then called one of his friends so that together they could clean up some of the mess, and make it look like a robbery gone bad. The only problem they ran into was that his brother’s girlfriend’s parents, not hearing from her when they called her phone, drove to his residence. Arriving at the residence, they saw the fathers’ body laying in the driveway and called the police. That was the end for him. He fled the scene and was latter captured hiding in a friends pole barn. At his trial, he had the audacity to ask the judge to delay his sentencing so he could travel a bit before being incarcerated. He was tried on 5 counts of first degree murder and found guilty. His sentencing was life in prison with no chance for parole.

Eleven years into his sentencing, he hatched another plan. It’s time to leave. So he decided, with two other inmates, to highjack a semitruck while it was unloading at the chow hall dock and ram it through the fences. The inmates pulled the driver from the cab at knife point(sharpened shank) and took off with the semitruck. They thought they could drive it right through the fences but the area was also secured with a steel I beam and that plan failed miserably. The truck not only got hung up in the fencing, but the I beam they hit, stalled the motor. They tried to restart it but found themselves surrounded by officers. His two accomplices surrendered immediately but not him. He decided that he would make a break for it and was shot dead in the process of trying to escape. He became the culmination of the proverb: “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.” Nobody grieved his loss of life. The tax payers of the great state of Michigan got a break the day he died. Unfortunately, his empty cot was filled the next day with another just like him. The senseless killings continue throughout our communities.

Putin’s terror continues throughout the Ukraine killing civilians in every city with indiscriminate bombings and missile attacks. “Those who live by the sword, will die by the sword.” Slava Ukraini Glory to the heroes.

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.”