I am in the process of being humbled...
It's the last day of the month and my fourth day of working in the kitchen. The work is hard. I'm on the go from morning till evening with only a few breaks where I could go back to my cell for a little while before having to return to the kitchen. And the hours from four o'clock to 7:30 are the hardest because supper is our biggest meal. It's after supper when my crew sees a parade of pots and pans of all shapes and sizes. We wash, scrub, and dry everything from large aluminum sheet pans for baked goods to huge and heavy cast iron or stainless steel pots that are used for foods like pasta, rice, beans and sauces. The kitchen workers cook for almost eight hundred men to include the approximately 220 inmates who live in the nearby minimum security annex.
I work in what is called the "Pot Room." Here the action is non-stop from breakfast to supper. There are piles of pots and pans which have to be washed and degreased. I work with two or three other men. We must clean every pot, pan and cooking utensil by washing it in a strong industrial detergent and then scrub it with a scouring pad. Next each item gets dunked into a bin of bleach water, then rinsed in fresh water before being returned to its respective place on the shelf.
Then, after the pots, pans and utensils are put away and accounted for, I have to help wash the walls with disinfectant, disinfect the wash basins and sinks, scrub the tiled floor, empty the sump pans in the drainage system, and mop all the water from off the floor. And there's lots of water because during the washing process water gets pooled at my feet and it soaks through my work boots.
Fortunately, for a few of the Pot Room and Dishwasher Area workers, they have prison issued rubber boots. These are similar to the kind that fishermen use when wading into knee deep water. But there aren't enough rubber boots for everyone. However, in due time, if I'm lucky, I may be able to get a pair should another man leave on a transfer and he then chooses to give his pair to me. Otherwise my feet will have to stay wet.
Nevertheless, the kitchen is an interesting operation where three meals per day must be prepared for some 800 or more men. It's very hot in the kitchen, too, and very noisy.
For me, working in such a place is a challenging experience. Most of the men are younger than me. So I must keep pace with inmates who are in their twenties and thirties. The best part, though, is that I am working with several guys who are Christian. Some of them only work during the morning or lunch shifts, while a couple of them do all three shifts like me. Yet we're able to pray together and read our Bibles during breaks. And as their pastor I have to set the example by demonstrating a good work ethic. Interestingly some of these fellows never held a job when they were out on the streets, unless you'd consider car thieves and burglars as having a profession. I find it ironic that men heave to come to prison to find honest work.
D.B.
I work in what is called the "Pot Room." Here the action is non-stop from breakfast to supper. There are piles of pots and pans which have to be washed and degreased. I work with two or three other men. We must clean every pot, pan and cooking utensil by washing it in a strong industrial detergent and then scrub it with a scouring pad. Next each item gets dunked into a bin of bleach water, then rinsed in fresh water before being returned to its respective place on the shelf.
Then, after the pots, pans and utensils are put away and accounted for, I have to help wash the walls with disinfectant, disinfect the wash basins and sinks, scrub the tiled floor, empty the sump pans in the drainage system, and mop all the water from off the floor. And there's lots of water because during the washing process water gets pooled at my feet and it soaks through my work boots.
Fortunately, for a few of the Pot Room and Dishwasher Area workers, they have prison issued rubber boots. These are similar to the kind that fishermen use when wading into knee deep water. But there aren't enough rubber boots for everyone. However, in due time, if I'm lucky, I may be able to get a pair should another man leave on a transfer and he then chooses to give his pair to me. Otherwise my feet will have to stay wet.
Nevertheless, the kitchen is an interesting operation where three meals per day must be prepared for some 800 or more men. It's very hot in the kitchen, too, and very noisy.
For me, working in such a place is a challenging experience. Most of the men are younger than me. So I must keep pace with inmates who are in their twenties and thirties. The best part, though, is that I am working with several guys who are Christian. Some of them only work during the morning or lunch shifts, while a couple of them do all three shifts like me. Yet we're able to pray together and read our Bibles during breaks. And as their pastor I have to set the example by demonstrating a good work ethic. Interestingly some of these fellows never held a job when they were out on the streets, unless you'd consider car thieves and burglars as having a profession. I find it ironic that men heave to come to prison to find honest work.
D.B.
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