Shouts of "Fire!" filled the air, when earlier this evening, another inmate set his cell ablaze!
At 6:20, when the doors of the cells of the prisoners, who were not under lock-up restriction for disciplinary infraction, opened for the start of the evening’s recreation period, the screaming and shouting began. With my door open as well, I quickly stepped onto the walkway outside my cell to see what the commotion was about. And as I looked to my right, I could see a sheet of orange flame leaping from a cell about fifteen feet away.
Immediately I leaned over the railing of the upper floor where I live, and shouted to the officer at the entry desk below to radio for help, and grab a fire extinguisher. Many others were yelling the same thing. It was bedlam.
Being fully dressed, I ran to the burning cell and stood near it. Other inmates ran toward the flames as well. Everyone wanted to help. We were all shouting simultaneously that there was a man locked inside the cell. While at the same time, the deafening jangle of the building’s fire alarm bells began to sound. In addition, we were all trying to signal the guard who works in the Control Room some distance away to open cell number 237 so that the trapped man could get out.
By now, several guards arrived with fire extinguishers, and they began to douse the blaze. With the fire knocked down a bit, they managed to get the door to #237 open, where other guards quickly entered the hot cell to yank the fully conscious but coughing man out. I was standing alongside them. Smoke was everywhere. And when the supervising sergeant reached the scene, he ordered that the building be evacuated immediately.
Although the fire was quickly quenched, the thick smoke, combined with the incessant ringing of bells and the shouts of the guards to get out of the building, sent the sixty or so inmates scrambling down the nearest stairwells. From here we were then escorted as one large group into a long corridor, where we remained for at least an hour until the all clear was given, and we were allowed to return to our respective cells.
However, in spite of all the excitement, my heart was heavy. The man who set the fire had been acting weird all week. He was already confined to his cell for a disciplinary infraction of some kind. I’ve known him for years. He’s an older man of about sixty years of age. He was also one of the prison’s cooks, which is considered to be a top position for an inmate to have. He was quiet and he spoke broken English.
I had been speaking with him only the day before. I inquired if he needed anything as he was confined in his cell. He knows I’m a Christian, too. Recently I had given him an inspirational book in Spanish which he seemed eager to take, but he’s in big trouble now. He may even be facing outside charges for deliberately setting fire to an occupied structure.
I’m praying for him, and I thank God no one was hurt.
D.B.
Immediately I leaned over the railing of the upper floor where I live, and shouted to the officer at the entry desk below to radio for help, and grab a fire extinguisher. Many others were yelling the same thing. It was bedlam.
Being fully dressed, I ran to the burning cell and stood near it. Other inmates ran toward the flames as well. Everyone wanted to help. We were all shouting simultaneously that there was a man locked inside the cell. While at the same time, the deafening jangle of the building’s fire alarm bells began to sound. In addition, we were all trying to signal the guard who works in the Control Room some distance away to open cell number 237 so that the trapped man could get out.
By now, several guards arrived with fire extinguishers, and they began to douse the blaze. With the fire knocked down a bit, they managed to get the door to #237 open, where other guards quickly entered the hot cell to yank the fully conscious but coughing man out. I was standing alongside them. Smoke was everywhere. And when the supervising sergeant reached the scene, he ordered that the building be evacuated immediately.
Although the fire was quickly quenched, the thick smoke, combined with the incessant ringing of bells and the shouts of the guards to get out of the building, sent the sixty or so inmates scrambling down the nearest stairwells. From here we were then escorted as one large group into a long corridor, where we remained for at least an hour until the all clear was given, and we were allowed to return to our respective cells.
However, in spite of all the excitement, my heart was heavy. The man who set the fire had been acting weird all week. He was already confined to his cell for a disciplinary infraction of some kind. I’ve known him for years. He’s an older man of about sixty years of age. He was also one of the prison’s cooks, which is considered to be a top position for an inmate to have. He was quiet and he spoke broken English.
I had been speaking with him only the day before. I inquired if he needed anything as he was confined in his cell. He knows I’m a Christian, too. Recently I had given him an inspirational book in Spanish which he seemed eager to take, but he’s in big trouble now. He may even be facing outside charges for deliberately setting fire to an occupied structure.
I’m praying for him, and I thank God no one was hurt.
D.B.
