Encouragement

Spending Time in Prison

by Andrew Tuttle
05/20/21
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They’re gonna put me in jail?
Man, I’m already in jail
Don’t they know that my life,
Is just one big cell
- Anthrax

At approximately 4:30 p.m. on a past Thursday I was escorted to a van with four others and a driver. Once securely fastened, I took the long, slow 45 minute ride to the maximum security wing of the Oregon State Penitentiary in Salem.

This wasn’t a dream.

What It’s Like in Prison

Inside, a guard asked for my identification. I removed everything from my pockets and was told to take off my watch, belt and shoes. The others followed suit. After passing through a metal detector we lined up single file to pass through the first of many iron-barred gates. It was there as I waited, glimpsing out a thick, iron-barred window and saw the rec yard with what could only be at least 30-foot high cement walls. A guard tower loomed in the corner. Below me were two rows of picnic tables. I imagined what I’d be doing. I wondered if anybody tried to dig their way out.

Finally we entered another room. This is where I had to sign in and turn over my driver’s license for a prison ID. Our guard escort gave the occasional smile; the one behind the thick, tinted glass was not friendly. I walked away from him too soon. Suddenly I heard a pounding. I looked back. The guard behind the glass yelled “You!” and waved me back over. I’m not getting any respect in this place. I needed my hand stamped and I had walked away without my new prison-issued ID.

Once all of us were processed, we continued the slow march into the bowels of the prison. Another guard behind thick, tinted glass. Another ID check. He was a little more cordial. I began seeing inmates at this time. Milling about just beyond me and past more typical prison-issued iron bars. Once processed a second time, we were on the move again. I was no different from the rest of them. Those with me and the others already serving time.

We were escorted up a flight of stairs and into the familiar auditorium. I say familiar because I’ve been here before. I recognized an inmate from my last stint and he recognized me. “The cat story!” he exclaimed. Yes the cat story. Previously, when I visited with my writer’s group from church I read my essay “The 10 Minute Atheist.”

You didn’t really think I was being incarcerated did you?

In Their World

This time I read an essay I entitled “Running Through Life” and again I got to visit with a number of inmates, including a man who began serving time in 1987. He was looking forward to his release in nine months. The man who remembered my story from last year had seven more years to go – after already logging 14. I did not see the Alan Ruck/Edward Norton look-a-like. Hopefully he got early release.

The leader of our writer’s group shared about a young man in her life who was in prison and scared of leaving to face the real world. He was thinking of committing a crime just so he could return. Prison apparently was “home.” So I asked the man with seven more years if he was worried about fitting in once released. He understood the question and acknowledged the difficulties of transitioning into civilization. But he was preparing himself by getting a degree and placing his trust in God. What people fail to recognize, he said, was looking beyond the mountain in front of them. In fact, that’s how he looked at the seven more long years before him.

A speech from another in our group discussed how we can let our past imprison us. It got me thinking that in many ways we are all in some type of prison. Years earlier, my wife's son had a meltdown of sorts months before high school graduation. It turns out he didn’t want to leave prison - High School.  His sentence was almost up and he was due to be released soon. There was no returning for him. After his release, he simply went to a different prison – College – only to have another meltdown just prior to his release. Eventually, he made it out only to face a new prison – Life.

In a prior job I had debated whether to start looking for new work. But I was comfortable there – in my prison. I knew the people, I had a routine and I knew what was expected of me. Just like the inmates at OSP. I never did seriously look to “escape” from that prison; instead I was “paroled” through a layoff. I have done time in prison for unemployment multiple times.

Career wise, I find it a little unnerving to dive into something new. And, after a while you grow accustomed to the prison of unemployment. It’s the new normal. You get used to it. But, you also try and dig your way out for so long that cement wall seems to extend further and further underground beyond any ability to dig further. Ironically, the digging becomes part of your accustomed-to routine.

Some of us handle our prisons better than others, some of us enjoy our prisons, and some of us are constantly looking to escape. My brother-in-law once escaped from his prison. Unfortunately, he put family members and loved ones in a prison of their own.  I can’t imagine what it would be like to actually be in prison – at all, let alone for years. I am sure there are others who can’t imagine what it’s like to be unemployed – at all, let alone for years.

The inmate with seven years to go said God was his strength. He also said sometimes God uses change, as uncomfortable is it may be, to get us where we need to be. Once there, whatever pain we felt was worth the effort. Admittedly, he said he struggled after arriving in prison. Finally he took a college course and it changed his life. Routine can be bad and good. Some inmate routines consist of sitting in their cell and watching TV all day. His routine was more about change and bettering himself.

The inmates thanked us profusely. They look forward to our visit every year but, in many ways, we learn so much more from them.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us. - Romans 8:18