What it's like being a woman working in a men's prison pt. 6

EF-4 hits the prison

It began as an ordinary spring day in Alabama. We go straight from winter to a week-or-three of spring to-relentless heat. If you turn around too fast you will miss spring all together.

I went to work, gave my badge to the officer posted between the switchback doors and walked unescorted to the office I share with the “nappers.” I don’t even call them my co-workers anymore, as working isn’t something they do.

I met up with my inmate clerk and we had the obligatory cup of coffee as we printed out the days worksheets. Then we stepped outside for a cigarette while we waited for an officer to open the gate.

Sometimes the wait was a good 20 minutes, other times the gate was open and unattended. I never thought much about it being open as there were two more manned gates ahead of us. Often times that 20 minute wait was a conversation with the clerk. Usually about how the class members were doing.

We finally made it to the dorm and settled into class. The first class came and went without incident. I stepped out on the yard for a smoke break. I never had an escort there. The yard was mostly grass, with two sidewalks. To the left was a concrete pad that had freeweights and benches as well as a pull-up bar. At the end of the main sidewalk was a locked gate. 20 feet from that another locked gate that went to the cafeteria or the shift-office.

The 235 man dorm had one officer. He was rarely in the officer’s cubicle next to my classroom. He was either manning one of three gates, wandering around in the bunk area, or out of view completely. This had been common place behavior for the last three years.

By this time I had taught almost everyone in that dorm and knew who the typical trouble makers were, I knew the places to avoid, which was sitting anywhere in plain sight of the bunks or the bathroom. The bathroom area was the only place in the building that had concrete blocks around it. The entire building was originally a large sheet metal-walled factory for inmate labor. It had been made into a treatment dorm after the crimebill act had been put in place. The act put all the inmates in treatment together.

While on my smoke break I always stood in the exact same place. I didn’t know if anyone had an eye on me, but if they did, they could always find me in the same place, doing the same thing. With all the hard times that my boss had attempted to give me, it was important to me that I was extremely predictable.

It was also important to be predictable around inmates. That way if anyone should say I was doing something I shouldn’t, I had many eyes on me that knew exactly my routine. I should really say ” when someone said something” It was never an “if.”

When I finished my smoke break my clerk said to me

“Doesn’t the sky look weird?”

I looked around and in fact it did look odd. Very greenish. Very cloudy. The clouds were high and moving fairly quick, yet it wasn’t windy.

I said “it’s kind of green isn’t it?”

We went inside and went to the classroom where I teach crimebill. It’s a much larger class of 30 + men. I never liked that room as it’s in the front corner, out of sight from the officers cube. It had windows facing into the TV area, but I never felt comfortable in there. I had been teaching this class for about two months, so I knew all the inmates and my clerk was always there, but still…not my favorite.

About half-way into the class the wind had picked up outside. The sheet metal walls would rattle and the ceiling would lift up and down slightly like there was an updraft. The room had two caged windows in it. One facing the yard, the other facing the canteen.

I looked out the front window and saw the officer lock the yard gate then turned and ran inside waving wildly at everyone to go in.

I looked towards the TV area and the wind was blowing the double doors so hard that inmates were getting pushed in and out. The officer ran into the staff bathroom. Which was the only room with a lock. It then suddenly became loud as hail began pelting the metal walls and roof.

I shouted, “everyone get out! GO to the center of the building!” No sooner had I gotten the words out of my mouth, the metal roof pulled back from the corner like a sardine can, and I could see the sky. I jumped under my desk and found my clerk already there. We stared at each other as the walls rattled and shook.

It was crazy loud. Not the train sound that everyone says. Explosions is what I heard. Then it was gone as fast as it came.

We crawled out from the desk and made our way to my regular classroom. The TV area had around 50 large wooden church pews that had been tossed into a pile blocking the doors to the yard. The power was out and pieces of the ceiling were hanging down and swinging.

I sat down at my desk in shock and my clerk took up a stance like superman facing the door, daring anyone to try to come in.

After about 30 minutes another clerk came to the door and said that there was an eighteen wheeler truck on top of the canteen.

There was no way out. I was stuck there until officers came to extract me. Every possible worse case scenario ran through my mind. After an hour went by power from a generator came on. At the very least it was better than sitting in the dark. An inmate approached the door and handed my clerk two coffees and a prison burrito. We split the burrito and he said “Don’t worry Ms. C. there is not a single person in here that is going to hurt you. We ALL know that you are one of the few people in here that care about us.”

Four hours went by before the C.E.R.T. team came and walked me out to the parking lot. The head warden and a few Captains were standing there.

They truly looked disappointed to see me alive and well. One of the Captains said to me, “all non-essential workers will be called when you can come back.” No mention of we’re glad youre ok or even a ARE YOU OK? One of the officers walked me to my car. Almost all the windows had been blown out.

Stay tuned for pt. 7 Thanks for reading.