Jose and I could've been walking down a street in the Bronx...
...but we found ourselves walking together in the prison's outdoor recreation yard in the freezing cold. Jose has been in prison for approximately five years, and he has only fourteen months left to serve before he's eligible for release. He is 39-years old, and is HIV positive.
I've known Jose for about eight or nine months. He came here to Sullivan from Clinton Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison that's not very far from the Canadian border. Clinton is an old fortress of stone and steel, a hellhole that's surrounded by huge concrete walls. It's hemmed in by the Adirondack Mountains as well. I spent almost seven years there myself. Clinton is the proverbial "end of the line." Like me, Jose was glad to leave that place. Besides, now he's closer to New York City, and to his family.
At present, Jose is living in Sullivan Correctional Facility's "Intermediate Care Program" where I work on weekday afternoons. And this is where I first met him. As he and I got acquainted, I learned he is from the Bronx, too.
Unfortunately, however, Jose has a drug problem in addition to a variety of mental issues. Yet he is friendly and easygoing. He's not a troublemaker. Like a majority of the men in here, Jose only wants to do his time and then go home.
And speaking of his home, Jose told me that he used to hang out with a crew of fellow drug addicts and street people, whom he fondly referred to as his "friends." He said they'd all gather at night along Woodycrest Avenue in the "High Bridge" section of the borough. While his mental problems kept him from holding a job for any length of time, it was his regular Social Security checks that he received because of his mental disability which helped to provide him with money for food and rent, and, regrettably, narcotics. A neighborhood clinic for the poor helped to keep Jose alive with medications to assist his immune system in fighting off the virus which causes AIDS.
Like many chronically unemployed persons, Jose slept during the day, but would come out at night to score his drugs and socialize. His friends, from the stories he's told me, always had lots of personal adventures (and lies) to tell each other as to how they got enough cash to buy their latest "hit" of crack or heroin.
But the saddest part of Jose's life is the fact that he has two beautiful fourteen-year-old twin daughters. They're the products of a long-term relationship with his lover and occasional live-in girlfriend, Jeanette. According to Jose, Jeanette was also diagnoses with HIV. He told me that several years ago she began to get night sweats. Then came the "constant shivering." He complained, "She's always lying under a pile of blankets whenever I call her." Jose told me that he'd love to see her but, "She's too sick to make the two-hour trip, plus she's got to watch the kids."
Jose's doing time for assault. He told me that he pulled out a small knife and stabbed another man because he "caught a bad delusion" that the man was going to cut him first. Jose said his victim was also a drug addict whom he knew from the neighborhood. Thankfully, however, although the victim, whom it turned out was unarmed, received several puncture wounds, he survived and has since fully recovered.
Jose said it was a "nightmare." He dropped the bloodstained weapon and ran away. Months later, Jose, at the advice of his court-appointed attorney, entered a plea of guilty and thus "copped out" to a lesser charge and was subsequently given a lighter sentence than had he taken his case to trial.
Although I enjoyed walking with Jose, it was difficult to talk to him on the matter of his soul and about Jesus Christ. He would listen for a while, but then he'd quickly change the subject. So I finally settled for reminiscing with him about the Bronx.
One day, if he survives his imprisonment, Jose will find himself back in his old neighborhood. He'll find out what has changed over the year he's been gone. He will also learn the fate of his friends. Jose will discover who's still alive and who has since died. He'll learn, as well, who ended up in prison, too. And, hopefully, Jose will meet some of the former Woodycrest Avenue crew who have since found the Lord and are now free from sin and bondage.
D.B.
I've known Jose for about eight or nine months. He came here to Sullivan from Clinton Correctional Facility, a maximum security prison that's not very far from the Canadian border. Clinton is an old fortress of stone and steel, a hellhole that's surrounded by huge concrete walls. It's hemmed in by the Adirondack Mountains as well. I spent almost seven years there myself. Clinton is the proverbial "end of the line." Like me, Jose was glad to leave that place. Besides, now he's closer to New York City, and to his family.
At present, Jose is living in Sullivan Correctional Facility's "Intermediate Care Program" where I work on weekday afternoons. And this is where I first met him. As he and I got acquainted, I learned he is from the Bronx, too.
Unfortunately, however, Jose has a drug problem in addition to a variety of mental issues. Yet he is friendly and easygoing. He's not a troublemaker. Like a majority of the men in here, Jose only wants to do his time and then go home.
And speaking of his home, Jose told me that he used to hang out with a crew of fellow drug addicts and street people, whom he fondly referred to as his "friends." He said they'd all gather at night along Woodycrest Avenue in the "High Bridge" section of the borough. While his mental problems kept him from holding a job for any length of time, it was his regular Social Security checks that he received because of his mental disability which helped to provide him with money for food and rent, and, regrettably, narcotics. A neighborhood clinic for the poor helped to keep Jose alive with medications to assist his immune system in fighting off the virus which causes AIDS.
Like many chronically unemployed persons, Jose slept during the day, but would come out at night to score his drugs and socialize. His friends, from the stories he's told me, always had lots of personal adventures (and lies) to tell each other as to how they got enough cash to buy their latest "hit" of crack or heroin.
But the saddest part of Jose's life is the fact that he has two beautiful fourteen-year-old twin daughters. They're the products of a long-term relationship with his lover and occasional live-in girlfriend, Jeanette. According to Jose, Jeanette was also diagnoses with HIV. He told me that several years ago she began to get night sweats. Then came the "constant shivering." He complained, "She's always lying under a pile of blankets whenever I call her." Jose told me that he'd love to see her but, "She's too sick to make the two-hour trip, plus she's got to watch the kids."
Jose's doing time for assault. He told me that he pulled out a small knife and stabbed another man because he "caught a bad delusion" that the man was going to cut him first. Jose said his victim was also a drug addict whom he knew from the neighborhood. Thankfully, however, although the victim, whom it turned out was unarmed, received several puncture wounds, he survived and has since fully recovered.
Jose said it was a "nightmare." He dropped the bloodstained weapon and ran away. Months later, Jose, at the advice of his court-appointed attorney, entered a plea of guilty and thus "copped out" to a lesser charge and was subsequently given a lighter sentence than had he taken his case to trial.
Although I enjoyed walking with Jose, it was difficult to talk to him on the matter of his soul and about Jesus Christ. He would listen for a while, but then he'd quickly change the subject. So I finally settled for reminiscing with him about the Bronx.
One day, if he survives his imprisonment, Jose will find himself back in his old neighborhood. He'll find out what has changed over the year he's been gone. He will also learn the fate of his friends. Jose will discover who's still alive and who has since died. He'll learn, as well, who ended up in prison, too. And, hopefully, Jose will meet some of the former Woodycrest Avenue crew who have since found the Lord and are now free from sin and bondage.
D.B.
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