I just learned that several days ago a man whom I knew...
...and had spoken to in the fairly recent past, had died from AIDS in the prison's infirmary.
His name was Melendez. He was in his late 30s, and I believe he told me that he was from Honduras. I never got to know his first name.
Melendez was very poor, and he always wore what looked like the same clothes. He spoke very little English, and didn't talk very much to anyone, not even with the many prisoners who speak Spanish.
When he first arrived at this facility, he would go to the chapel on occasion. But then he stopped attending services. When I would pass his cell, I noticed that he was almost always sleeping. He seemed, even when he walked the hallways, to exhibit perpetual tiredness. Yet he was a nice man and we sometimes exchanged helloes. And then he disappeared.
I hadn't seen him for months. So I thought he probably transferred to another facility. There's always a big turn-over of inmates as men leave on transfers. So it isn't unusual to one day not see someone whom I would be used to seeing.
I didn't know that Melendez had AIDS. One day he apparently got admitted to the infirmary and as oftentimes happens, he never got the chance to leave. His sickness got worse and he died alone.
The news of his death made me sad. He came to America to escape the oppressive poverty in his country, only to die at a fairly young age and be buried in our potter's field.
D.B.
His name was Melendez. He was in his late 30s, and I believe he told me that he was from Honduras. I never got to know his first name.
Melendez was very poor, and he always wore what looked like the same clothes. He spoke very little English, and didn't talk very much to anyone, not even with the many prisoners who speak Spanish.
When he first arrived at this facility, he would go to the chapel on occasion. But then he stopped attending services. When I would pass his cell, I noticed that he was almost always sleeping. He seemed, even when he walked the hallways, to exhibit perpetual tiredness. Yet he was a nice man and we sometimes exchanged helloes. And then he disappeared.
I hadn't seen him for months. So I thought he probably transferred to another facility. There's always a big turn-over of inmates as men leave on transfers. So it isn't unusual to one day not see someone whom I would be used to seeing.
I didn't know that Melendez had AIDS. One day he apparently got admitted to the infirmary and as oftentimes happens, he never got the chance to leave. His sickness got worse and he died alone.
The news of his death made me sad. He came to America to escape the oppressive poverty in his country, only to die at a fairly young age and be buried in our potter's field.
D.B.