Jail Stories

I have mentioned that I am writing a book on the jail. Here is but one of the stories that I finished today. My own opinion is a 5 out of 10 on this one. It has about a 40% problem with staining. :lol: I may go back and edit a little later. Just wanted to see what you thought.

Please be mindful of my copyright material by not spreading the story around the planet. The trash can is OK, though :)

Going into Yellow
Working at the satellite was not as stressful as working the main jails. These guys were already sentenced and had a release date coming up. Any infractions of the rules meant that their release dates would be extended. Most inmates avoided any confrontations with correctional staff because of it.

Staff would usually rotate duty stations usually every three months. This philosophy by administration was basically a good one. It helped alleviate complacency and over-familiarity with inmates that could clearly be a disastrous combination. Building too much of a relationship with inmates could cause a variety of problems. Weaker officers could fall victim to inmate manipulation or even extortion. You will run across some of those stories in this book, too.

I always had a pretty decent rapport with inmates within a few days of a new duty assignment. However, inmates knew where the line was drawn when it came to their expected behavior when I was on duty. I basically treated them the same way they treated me. Rather than be pretentious by flaunting a badge, I would tell them to look at it like I was the boss of the company and had to follow my direction until they retired.

One instance of that drawn line could be showcased with the following story. I was half way through my shift and was making a round of security checks in the pods. As I walked through the door and into the bathroom to check for smokers, an inmate suddenly jumped from behind one of the bunks and let out an intimidating roar. As it turns out, the shenanigan was only an attempt to shock and startle me to observe my reaction.

I had quickly moved to a defensive combative stance, but did not react with fear as the inmate thought I would. He still thought it was hilarious because I had jumped. I may have thought the same thing had I been an inmate, but as an officer, this type of behavior was unacceptable. I had to let him know it, but did not feel the necessity to extend his sentence that was over in about 2 months. I told him to report to the cold box.

The cold box was one of two holding cells within the satellite facility. For some reason, these cells were always freezing cold. Officers used them to cool inmates off, or to let them reflect on the behavior that usually got them there. After an hour of sitting in one of these cells, the inmate would usually come around to a better level of cooperation. It was great for those minor infractions that needed a little more than a butt chewing. An attitude adjustment room, so to speak. It worked great.

I have to preempt the rest of the story with the term yellow. Go to the definition by clicking the hyperlink and come back...
(This is what the hyperlink says: 'The color of jumpsuit that is given to the worst of the worst inmate. These were the ones who were extremely violent and treacherous. They had individual housing all to themselves. Two officers were always required to be present when contact was made with these inmates. They only came out of their cells for showers every other day, 2 visits per week, attorneys, and for court. They could go to the gym twice a week. A great deal of our problems were with these inmates.')

The men who were put in yellow had the least amount of freedom of any other inmate. They were escorted wherever they went by two officers at all times while in the restraints of shackles, belly chains, and handcuffs. It was a miserable set of circumstances, to say the least. They were by themselves with no one to talk to, no TV, no dayroom, no standard privileges, and no hope of getting out of that classification any time soon. It was only a few who wore the yellow jumpsuit as a badge of honor. For those, it was like advertising to the rest of the inmates, "Yeah, that's right... I'm a bad ass!"

Getting back to the story, I went to the cold box after about half an hour had gone by the wayside. I had a stern demeanor. I had told the inmate that I was disappointed in his behavior as I handed him a fake rule violation. He was no longer in a jovial mood.

In the violation, I had outlined the aggressive behavior and the threat he made to the security of the facility. I really exaggerated the circumstances surrounding the entire event. I also said that he should loose at least 45 days of his good time, which would increase his sentence by a month and a half. I wasn't done with him.

As soon as he finished reading the rule violation, I told him to sit up straight and face me because he had been all slumped over the bench he had been sitting on while he read the harsh verdict. I told him that he had left me with no choice in the matter because other inmates in the facility would now think they could do the same kind of thing. He couldn't quit apologizing to me. I told him that there was one more thing. I was going to call our classification officers and have him put in yellow. Transport would be here shortly to take him back to the main jail. I wish I had a photograph of the look of pure shock and fear on his face.

About another half hour went by and I went back to the cold room. A very sad inmate indeed, said, "Are they here, already?" I told him they weren't coming yet and he had asked why. "Cause I was only kidding!" as I burst out in laughter.

Now, amidst the look of confusion, he managed to blurt, "That's f***ed up, man. That's f***ed up." I said, "Yeah, maybe, but so is what you did. We are even now, unless you want to continue this little contest. I'm ready, are you?" He decided that it was in his best interest not to ever cross that line again. Of course, the other inmates at the satellite also found out that I would do unorthodox things to keep things on an even keel. Because of that, they remembered who they were and where they were at.

Right before I retired, I ran across that same inmate in the main jail. He had managed to stay out of trouble for about 3 years. This time it was for minor stuff. He reminded me of the story of putting him in yellow, so it must have left a lasting impression. In addition, he told the inmates in his current pod that they better not f*** with me because they would be sorry.