As is the custom for every first Saturday in the month of August, and with the permission from prison officials...
My church congregation had our annual Christian Family Day event in the facility's main outdoor yard.
The weather was perfect as almost 150 people - inmates and their families and friends, our ministerial volunteers, and about twenty members from the Manhattan Grace Tabernacle Church in New York City - joined together to worship God, eat, and have fellowship.
Because my chaplain is taking a leave of absence in order to attend to a medical situation concerning his wife, I had to cover for him. I opened the event with prayer while another prisoner directed the event as well as translated everything into Spanish. We also gave out specially made plaques in memory of two dear ministers who gave many years of their lives to share the love of Christ with us here at the prison.
The entire gathering, therefore, was dedicated to Benny Baerga, a devout Christian and former inmate who, after his release from prison, served God for eighteen years before dying of cancer in October 2005 at the age of fifty-one. Benny attended Times Square Church in New York City, and was employed as a counselor at the Bowery Mission in Lower Manhattan. He would come to Sullivan Correctional Facility in his spare time to teach the Bible. He left behind a wife and two children.
In addition, we also dedicated the day's event to Reverend Jacinta Torres, whom we affectionately called "Mom." Sister Torres would come to the prison once per month, along with her husband, Pastor Anabel Torres, to conduct a Monday evening worship service. They would drive here from Brooklyn. Our beloved "Mom" died in her sleep while she was reading her Bible. Every year, Sister Torres would also travel to Central America to do missionary work. Her loss was felt by all of us. And both Pastor Torres, and a friend who came in behalf of Benny Baerga, were thrilled with the surprise plaques. The plaques, which were quite large, were made by one of the members of my congregation who works in the facility's Building Maintenance shop.
I, however, had invited my friend, Dan Nicholls, to come as my guest. Dan is a retired school teacher who lives in New Jersey. Both he and I volunteered to serve the meals to everyone in attendance. Approximately fifteen other men helped too.
Then, when the five-hour event was over, all our guests, including my friend Dan, were escorted by a team of correction officers out of the yard, and then out of the prison. Meanwhile, I had to work as part of the "cleanup crew." We had to pick up all the garbage, put away the chairs and tables, and take down the tents and drag them back to the storage area which was a distance away. It was quite an operation. And it took about ninety minutes to complete.
But the last part of the day's affair was the dreaded and highly embarrassing "strip-search."
As per the standard procedure, immediately after a prisoner finishes his visit, either with his family members or friends, he must be strip-searched. All his clothing as well as body cavities must be checked. This is something every inmate who attended today's event had to endure, and I was no exception.
So when our work was completed and I and the other cleanup crew laborers were done putting everything away, we were ushered into a nearby building where a team of guards awaited us. And, once inside, we took turns going behind a makeshift screening area where we had to take off our clothes, one piece at a time, and then hand each piece to a guard who would carefully examine it for contraband, this being, anything an inmate might be trying to smuggle into the facility.
And when it was my turn to be searched, after my clothing was checked, the next step was my body. So, under the watchful eyes of a correction officer, and in accordance with his verbal instructions, I lifted my hands into the air to show him my underarms. Next, I bent head-forward, so he could check my hair and also look behind my ears. I then had to lift my testicles. Next, I opened my mouth in order for the guard to peer down my throat. Then I was told to turn around with my back to the officer and show him the soles of my feet. This is so he could make sure that nothing was taped to the bottoms. And the last step in the routine was to "bend over and spread your cheeks." A quick peek by the guard up my rectum revealed nothing, however, other than what's always been there.
Finally, when the strip-search was finished, I was told to get dressed and go back to my housing unit. And when I did so, I was able to take a shower. It felt great being able to stand under a stream of water after a full day's work in the hot sun. But the best satisfaction, I believe, came from knowing that many hearts were touched by God's love. Likewise, many kids were made happy having spent the day with their dads.
D.B.
Note: For a description of last year's family event, see "Family Day." In addition, this year we had approximately two dozen less people in attendance, but 2006 was still a good turnout.
The weather was perfect as almost 150 people - inmates and their families and friends, our ministerial volunteers, and about twenty members from the Manhattan Grace Tabernacle Church in New York City - joined together to worship God, eat, and have fellowship.
Because my chaplain is taking a leave of absence in order to attend to a medical situation concerning his wife, I had to cover for him. I opened the event with prayer while another prisoner directed the event as well as translated everything into Spanish. We also gave out specially made plaques in memory of two dear ministers who gave many years of their lives to share the love of Christ with us here at the prison.
The entire gathering, therefore, was dedicated to Benny Baerga, a devout Christian and former inmate who, after his release from prison, served God for eighteen years before dying of cancer in October 2005 at the age of fifty-one. Benny attended Times Square Church in New York City, and was employed as a counselor at the Bowery Mission in Lower Manhattan. He would come to Sullivan Correctional Facility in his spare time to teach the Bible. He left behind a wife and two children.
In addition, we also dedicated the day's event to Reverend Jacinta Torres, whom we affectionately called "Mom." Sister Torres would come to the prison once per month, along with her husband, Pastor Anabel Torres, to conduct a Monday evening worship service. They would drive here from Brooklyn. Our beloved "Mom" died in her sleep while she was reading her Bible. Every year, Sister Torres would also travel to Central America to do missionary work. Her loss was felt by all of us. And both Pastor Torres, and a friend who came in behalf of Benny Baerga, were thrilled with the surprise plaques. The plaques, which were quite large, were made by one of the members of my congregation who works in the facility's Building Maintenance shop.
I, however, had invited my friend, Dan Nicholls, to come as my guest. Dan is a retired school teacher who lives in New Jersey. Both he and I volunteered to serve the meals to everyone in attendance. Approximately fifteen other men helped too.
Then, when the five-hour event was over, all our guests, including my friend Dan, were escorted by a team of correction officers out of the yard, and then out of the prison. Meanwhile, I had to work as part of the "cleanup crew." We had to pick up all the garbage, put away the chairs and tables, and take down the tents and drag them back to the storage area which was a distance away. It was quite an operation. And it took about ninety minutes to complete.
But the last part of the day's affair was the dreaded and highly embarrassing "strip-search."
As per the standard procedure, immediately after a prisoner finishes his visit, either with his family members or friends, he must be strip-searched. All his clothing as well as body cavities must be checked. This is something every inmate who attended today's event had to endure, and I was no exception.
So when our work was completed and I and the other cleanup crew laborers were done putting everything away, we were ushered into a nearby building where a team of guards awaited us. And, once inside, we took turns going behind a makeshift screening area where we had to take off our clothes, one piece at a time, and then hand each piece to a guard who would carefully examine it for contraband, this being, anything an inmate might be trying to smuggle into the facility.
And when it was my turn to be searched, after my clothing was checked, the next step was my body. So, under the watchful eyes of a correction officer, and in accordance with his verbal instructions, I lifted my hands into the air to show him my underarms. Next, I bent head-forward, so he could check my hair and also look behind my ears. I then had to lift my testicles. Next, I opened my mouth in order for the guard to peer down my throat. Then I was told to turn around with my back to the officer and show him the soles of my feet. This is so he could make sure that nothing was taped to the bottoms. And the last step in the routine was to "bend over and spread your cheeks." A quick peek by the guard up my rectum revealed nothing, however, other than what's always been there.
Finally, when the strip-search was finished, I was told to get dressed and go back to my housing unit. And when I did so, I was able to take a shower. It felt great being able to stand under a stream of water after a full day's work in the hot sun. But the best satisfaction, I believe, came from knowing that many hearts were touched by God's love. Likewise, many kids were made happy having spent the day with their dads.
D.B.
Note: For a description of last year's family event, see "Family Day." In addition, this year we had approximately two dozen less people in attendance, but 2006 was still a good turnout.
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