The Big House Page 5

  Drugs get smuggled into prison by some of the most despicable methods. In the visiting area, visitors might hide the drugs anywhere from personal undergarments to baby diapers. Often, the drugs are concealed in a balloon, and during a hug or kiss, the visitor transfers the stash to the inmate, who swallows the balloon whole. The inmate “stores” it in his stomach, and then vomits it back up or passes it through his digestive system. Others hide items inside their own rectums.

  It sounds crude, but it’s the reality of prison.

  Confiscated drugs and drug paraphernalia.

  A stash of marijuana hidden in a hollowed-out bar of Dial soup.

  Inmates make tattoo guns with creative flare. A gun can be built with a guitar string as the needle mounted in a ballpoint pen shaft with a bit of rubber, masking tape, and a toothbrush to link the needle to a motor. These motors are taken from electric razors or audio equipment. When using an audio component, the volume control dictates the speed of the needle’s vibration.

  Prison-made tattoo gun discovered hidden in deodorant container.

  Another undercover business in prisons is tattoo parlors. Tattoo artists usually learn their trade outside. Inside, they are highly respected because of their creative skills and are much sought after by inmate customers.

  Tats are hot items in prison. They can be status symbols or simply inmate art. Some cons use them for personal symbolism, depicting the names or images of loved ones. Popular prison art includes a spider tattooed on a con’s elbow, a symbol conveying confinement. Others have a teardrop inked below an eye, giving them the appearance of permanently crying. Some tats warn fellow cons that respect is due with a subtle message saying “Don’t mess with me.” Many inmates desire the tattoos as a display of their convict status, the illegal tats providing proof of their prison experiences and a showcase of the time they’ve done. Tats might identify a con’s previous criminal activity, such as performing a prison murder.

  Certain tattoos are known as “brands” and signify belonging to prison gangs, a message instilling fear in others to steer clear. Some get inscribed with white-supremacist logos like those of the Aryan Brotherhood, or AB monogram. To hide the Aryan Brotherhood affiliation from watchful guards but still identify themselves to fellow cons, they might use tattooed nicknames such as Alice Baker, or simply Alice, or The Brand.

  Upon admitting new offenders, most prisons take photos to document all of their tattoos to be stored in their files. This allows for easy identification of any new tattoos, which would be a violation of prison rules and subject to discipline. Prisons attempt to combat tattooing for health reasons. Poor hygiene due to overused and dirty tattooing needles and insufficient cleanliness create a significant health hazard. This forces tattooers to make their shops secretive and mobile.

  These entrepreneurs make tattoo guns in all sorts of creative fashion. A gun can be built using a thin guitar string as the needle that is mounted in a plastic ballpoint pen shaft with a rubber band or Pink Pearl eraser, masking tape, and a toothbrush to link the needle to a motor. These motors are taken from electric razors, cassette-tape recorders, or CD players. Power comes from either batteries or an AC/DC adaptor plugged into a socket. When using an audio component, the volume control dictates the speed of the needle’s vibration. Tattoo artists sometime obtain supplies by stealing permanent ink from hobby craft class or the education area. Whatever it takes.

  Guards generally know which inmates are the tattooers, making these artists’ work tedious and time consuming as they require equally creative methods to keep staff from interfering. A lookout is essential to operating a parlor. An inmate skilled as an observer and detractor watches for any corrections officers. A signal–whether it’s a noise or movement–alerts the cell serving as the parlor to stop the artwork and hide all tools.

  To keep their businesses alive, tattoo artists must also be artists at ingeniously hiding their equipment from the watchful eyes of suspecting corrections officers. They break down their guns back into innocent-looking pens and audio players or stash the components inside shampoo bottles, stuff them deep within bars of soap or items of food, or temporarily hide them in their clothing. As good as the hiding place may be, a seasoned correctional officer has found items there before and likely will find them again. Still, inmates have the time and will to always be dreaming up new and better hiding places to keep their contraband safe, at least for a short period of time. Gambling is a big time operation in prison. Cons run numbers rackets, point-spread boards, and betting pools on all sort of games. During inmates’ free time, card, checkers, and chess games are common sights–and there’s usually something at stake. Toothpicks are often used for poker chips, although inmates will never admit to their worth.

  One afternoon I walked into a cellblock and spotted several inmates that I knew well sitting at a table playing cards. Toothpicks were laying all over the table in neat stacks as well as in an ante pile. I approached them and with a tongue-in-cheek smile on my face said, “Now you guys wouldn’t be gambling back here would you?” They smiled back and one responded, “Warden, we would never do anything like that–there are rules against that! We’re only playing for toothpicks.” Deep down I was wondering what each one of those toothpicks was worth.

  Games and gambling might be great fun for cons and a way to do the time, but these are rarely just friendly games. An inmate better pay up any money owed or he may pay with his life. All too often after a prison assault, I feared that the victim had been the recipient of a ghastly beating simply due to bad debts.

  Prison sex is one of the most mysterious areas of prison culture. Without question, sexual activity exists in prisons, although I believe the level is significantly diminished in the Minnesota prison system primarily due to the guards’ awareness and constant effort to combat it whenever possible.

  When I became warden, we were having an unusually high number of incidents of inmates masturbating in view of female officers. Inmates would wait for a female officer to enter the unit or until she passed by their cells during routine room checks, and then expose themselves to the officer. It was disturbing to staff, and it became clear that the rule violation and penalty for the act didn’t outweigh the inmate satisfaction.

  Because of this, we made a policy change that significantly decreased these incidents. Following one of these exposures, we immediately hauled the inmate off to the Segregation Unit. If already housed in Segregation, the inmate was moved to a modified cell, and, if in a modified cell, privileges were taken away. This swift change of status deterred offenders with the unpleasant results of their conduct.

  Private masturbation is common in prisons–it always has been and always will be. All types of pornographic magazines were outlawed from Minnesota correctional facilities in 2001, hampering the impetus for masturbation somewhat, but inmate imagination still and probably will always provide motivation. Staff runs into this often, and it is difficult to work around, especially for female officers. Unfortunately, it’s part of the prison world.

  Sex between inmates is also part of the environment. Sometimes, these are consensual relationships; too often, they’re prison rapes. As a warden, I can only guess about the frequency of prison sex as it’s usually hidden and rarely uncovered.

  It’s also rare that prison-rape victims come forward to testify against their attackers. Being the victim of a prison rape is one thing, but having your life taken for snitching is another. Still, I am aware of a surprising number of victims of sexual attacks who reported the assault. Usually, they began the sexual activity as voluntary participants, but then the consensual behavior went too far and they ultimately became forced victims. It’s another of the pitfalls and grim realities of doing time.

  There are always some cons who are sexual predators. I’ve seen some offenders who would think nothing of sexually attacking a young, vulnerable inmate in prison, but then abhor a child molester for his crimes on the outside. It’s an ironic double standard as to what is
acceptable behavior, but that’s part of the inmate mindset.

  It’s a sad fact of the prison world, but only the strong survive. Weaker offenders often have to pay others for their safety, either for protection or simply to not be beaten up. They may have to perform unpleasant cleaning tasks, give up desserts, buy from the inmate store and give their purchases to someone else as bribes. They might constantly have to ask family and friends to send them money which in turn becomes extortion pay for their safety. Or it might be for a sexual transaction.

  The underworld of activity is endless. For a warden or guard to be on top of everything is virtually impossible. The scheming, the strong-arming, the bartering, the passing of items from cell to cell, the smuggling, lying, cheating, extortion–it never ends.

  Some offenders are just not capable of handling the pressure. At times, they decide to escape by suicide. Killing yourself in prison is not easy as inmates lack the tools to do it cleanly or with finesse. When a suicide is successful, it’s often a gruesome scene that has been carefully planned out. Most prison suicides are from hanging, wrist cutting with a homemade shank, or an overdose of pills.

  I was fortunate: During my tenure of managing institutions, no inmate committed suicide. Part of this was pure luck. I saw several serious attempts and some, although horrible and bloody, were pure attention-seeking behavior.

  When we became aware that an inmate was capable of suicide, we usually placed him in an area where he could be continually monitored by video and audio, and guards could check on him frequently. The inmate was stripped of his clothing and everything in his cell that could be used to harm himself. We couldn’t even leave him with his underwear as he might tear them up and hang himself. The inmate was then placed in a suicide gown, commonly known as the Banana Suit, Yellow Suit, or simply, the Dress. This piece of clothing is made out of Kevlar with straps in the back that hold the gown on with heavy-duty Velcro. The outfit looks like a thick life jacket and is similar in appearance to a hospital gown without sleeves. Like a strait jacket, it is well designed to prevent tearing or cutting so the potential suicide can’t harm himself. Although not a garment to wear to a style show, the Dress serves its purpose well.

  The Dress wont win any fashion shows, but it serves its purpose well. Like a strait jacket, it’s well designed for its purpose–to prevent a potential suicide from harming himself.

  When we became aware that an inmate was capable of suicide, we stripped him of his clothing and everything in his cell that could be used to harm himself. We couldn’t even leave him with his underwear as he might tear them up and hang himself.

  The inmate was then placed in this suicide gown—commonly known as the Banana Suit, Yellow Suit, or simply, the Dress.

  Restraining a berserk inmate is a job for the prison’s Security Squad. The team dons its full riot gear. A canister of mixed tear and pepper gas is then shot into the cell through the food pass. If the inmate remains uncooperative and continues to refuse directives, the squad rushes the inmate. A full-body plexiglass shield is used to bulldoze the inmate into a corner of his cell where he can be subdued.

  It’s not a pretty scene, but it’s all too often a necessary one.

  The full-restraint board is used to physically restrain inmates for a period of time to get them back under control.

  An inmate might be attempting to inflict bodily harm on himself or another con. Or he might have broken a window, flooded his cell, or damaged his cell in some other way.

  To protect ourselves, we created new equipment and policies as we learned from experience, which all too often followed a serious assault or injury. Yet some of the planning and preparation that goes into an attack on a guard is so carefully and cruelly premeditated that anticipatory prevention is almost impossible. For example, we devised a restraining helmet after an inmate viciously head-butted an officer in the face. A spit mask became inevitable after another sickening incident. After a further staff assault, we installed a heavy open-top U-bolt in a cement table so inmates could be secured with metal handcuffs while awaiting an examination or being detained during a cell search.

  Another reactive policy came after several incidents in the Segregation Unit. Inmates were filling empty milk cartons with their urine and feces and throwing the human waste at officers. I recall well the specific incident that initiated the new procedure. An inmate was serving disciplinary Segregation sentences so he was required to eat in his cell, and an officer went to deliver his meal. The officer was aware that the inmate was prone to lash out in any way possible, so he was especially cautious in opening the door’s food pass to deliver the tray. He looked first through the door window; there was the inmate, asleep on his bed covered by a blanket. The officer then carefully opened the chest-level hatch to set the tray into the cell on a cement shelf. As he looked in the window, the inmate sprung like a coiled snake from where he was crouched below the door window–the blanket covered nothing but a dummy made of his extra clothes. The inmate jumped up and threw the carton full of urine and feces into the officer’s face.

  After this assault, we initiated two things that have diminished the potential for future onslaughts of this nature. At our prompting, the Minnesota Legislature made this act a felony assault to be prosecuted in court. Although this state statute is significant, the real deterrent came with a new procedure. Before a meal is delivered to his cell in the Segregation Unit, an inmate must be sitting or laying on his bed with his hands and feet in full view of the officer. If he is not in compliance with the directive, the meal is not delivered. If he is not in compliance for the next meal, it too is not delivered. For the third meal, the inmate is removed from the cell in full restraints and then placed back in the cell after the meal tray has been left on the cement shelf. This policy works and it works well. I can’t recall an offender making it to the third meal without compliance.

  To protect officers from attack while escorting the most dangerous and violent inmates, we created another type of prison garb, the full-restraint equipment. This unique wardrobe included the helmet incorporated after the head-butting incident. This soft-shelled helmet has a strap securing it around the inmate’s neck and looks much like a football helmet.

  Under the helmet, the offender wears the spit mask, which is placed over the head and ties around the shoulders. The mask allows the inmate to breathe, but covers his face with a solid piece of cloth over the mouth and nose to prevent him from spitting or excreting bodily fluids from the nose.

  Metal handcuffs are then attached to each wrist and secured to a waist chain that is locked to the reinforced belt loops of the inmate’s trousers. The apparatus at the waist is then secured by a single handcuff at the end of a vinyl strap attached at the other end by a handcuff to leg irons on the ankles. This strap, called a bull strap, coordinates the restraint of hands, arms, and legs.

  This full-restraint equipment is similar to what serial-killer Hannibal Lecter wore in the movie The Silence of the Lambs. While it is cumbersome and inhumane looking, it is a necessity.

  Getting a berserk inmate into the full-restraint equipment is another problem altogether. The prison’s Security Squad cell-entry team first dons its full riot gear–Kevlar vests, helmets, gas masks, protective gloves, and arm and shin pads. A canister of Freeze Plus P gas–a cocktail mixed of tear gas and CS pepper-capiscum gas–is shot into the closed cell through the food pass. If you ever get hit by CS gas, you’ll have learned your lesson and will do anything you’re told so as not get a dose again. It causes a burning sensation in the eyes, nose, and throat, overwhelming coughing and shortness of breath, loss of circulation to the extremities of the body, and in some cases, dramatic mucus secretion, nausea, and vomiting. While the gas is having its effect, the squad rushes the inmate. They employ a full-body plexiglass shield to bulldoze the inmate into a corner of his cell where he can be subdued. It’s not a pretty scene, but it’s all too often a necessary one.

  The Human Monster

  Inmate
Richard Samuels stood just five feet six inches tall and weighed a mere 160 pounds, but he was dynamite packed into that small frame. One day, I watched officers move him between cells. His legs were shackled together for the short trip, which he resisted with every ounce of his being. His long stringy hair hung in his face as he snarled, growled, swore, and screamed. I had never seen anything like it. The sweating, the shaking, the howling–this was Samuels at his best. I actually questioned whether this was a human being.

  During my thirty-five years in corrections, I have worked around thousands of inmates. Most don’t stay in my memory. They served their sentences with few problems and passed through the prison system and my mind. Some, however, I remember for a lifetime. Their behavior, attitude, crime, a particular incident–any of these can plant an inmate in my mind. One of the most memorable is Samuels, who came to the newly opened Oak Park Heights prison on an interstate transfer in summer 1982. He had originally been sentenced for murder and would stay in prison for the rest of his life due to scores of additional charges brought against him for assaulting officers. He will be etched in my memory forever.

  Shortly after his arrival in Oak Park Heights, Samuels went on a rampage. He was intent on taking the new unit apart. He repeatedly promised us he would “bring the prison to its knees.”

  Samuels spent his entire stay at Oak Park Heights in the Segregation Unit. This secure unit houses the prison’s most dangerous, volatile criminals. It’s a jail within a jail, known in prison slang with Big House humor as the Hilton.

  To reach Segregation, you descend a narrow, well-lit corridor, the stark cement walls lacking any windows or pictures. Outside the walls is earth; there is no escape as one would only dig deeper into the hillside. The long corridor leads to Complex 5, the Control Unit. From here, you step into a small sally port, which is a secure, enclosed portal that provides a barrier between the corridor and main unit. The doors operate on an interlock system–one door cannot open until another is closed.