B4) Paroled and leaving prison

I would like to have labeled this blog entry "Paroled and going home" but that's not the case for everyone that gets parole and leaves prison.

We started off with six. They put us in leg irons, hand cuffs and a belly chain. I recall thinking, are they serious. Do they think we are going to escape from our release? It felt like one last little "fuck you" for the road. One last momento. One last memory.

There wasn’t much chatter in the van as we headed towards our respective destinations. All in the greater phoenix area. Tension hung in the air. It left us unable or unwilling to speak. No conversation. Zero chatter.

Our first stop was the state mental hospital. As it turned out one of the soon-to-be ex-cons was a sex offender. A recent supreme court ruling allowed the state prison system the ability to hold sex offender indefinitely, even after they finish their prison sentence. Why not give them life sentences. If you are going to keep someone in prison after their sentence is finished why not give them a life sentence to begin with. This is yet another example of how moronic the criminal justice system is.

Then there were five.

While the guards were doing their paperwork to transfer the sex offender to the state mental hospital the rest of us sat quietly in the prison van. The inmate sitting next to me began to mumble something.

“In the spoon by noon”

He said it again but this time a little louder,

“In the spoon by noon”

He then began to rock back and forth. His head was down chin to chest. His eyes closed. Again with the words:

“In the spoon by noon”

This time another inmate chimed in. Then another. Eventually all four of them were doing it. They looked and sounded like Monks chanting holy words they believed would bring them one step closer to enlightenment.

"In the spoon by noon"

The guards returned and we were back on our merry way. One by one the guys were dropped off. Not one of them dropped off to a house or home. We did not drop anyone off at an apartment. Not one of them greeted with the welcoming arms of a loving family or friend. They were dropped off in parking lots, at intersections. Each had a look of terror in his eyes as he disembarked the prison van.

How much education does it take to figure out what was going to happen with these four ex-cons. They were released with no money. No place to live. No one had a job waiting for them or marketable job skills with which to seek meaningful employment. They all had drug problems.

Under these circumstances it was only a matter of time before they were back in prison. You would not need a calendar for calculating the recidivism rate for these four men. All you would need is a stop watch.

I was the last to get dropped off.

We pulled up to Sky Harbor International Airport. I got out of the van and the guards began removing my shackles. A crowd gathered around. I fear I looked like Hannibal Lecter M.D. I wondered what everyone was thanking. I was sporting a shockish smile and probably looked like the good doctor.

They were ordered to escort me to the plane. Armed prison guards were ordered to escort me through the airport and to the plane. They were ordered to watch me board and make sure I was gone. The guards confide in me their orders were unusual. They wanted to know who I was and what I was in for. Who I was as a "criminal"?

“Marijuana” I told them. I was a convicted marijuana trafficker.

"Bullshit" one of them said.

They did not believe me. Then they drop a bomb on me.

“Are you going to be arrested when you get to Chicago”?

No I replied or at least I don’t think so. Why. What have you heard?

They made sure I had a nonstop ticket. They made sure I got on board. Maybe that was to ensure I got to Chicago because I was going to be arrested. I hoped not. Hearing all that really freaked me out. Am I going back to jail and back to prison but this time in Illinois? Have they been waiting years to indict me?

The answer was no. The only person waiting for me at the airport in Chicago was my sisters.

Of the six that piled into the prison van that morning I was the only one that went home. The other five simply left prison.