Jose went home today, and to the Bronx he will go...
Jose was assigned to the prison's Intermediate Care Program, where I work on weekday afternoons. He's in his late thirties, and he has a wife and two teenage daughters. Jose's been in prison approximately five years. In addition to having been diagnosed as schizophrenic, he was also a drug addict; Jose is HIV positive too.
In all my years here, it never gets any easier when I see other men walk out the doors. I'm happy for him, of course. And Jose let me pray for him before he left. Nevertheless, to see a man walk free is a bittersweet thing. First, because I cannot go. Second, because I will not see him again. Third, because I don't know how he's going to do. Either Jose will be successful with his reentry into society and in re-uniting with his family, or at some point, Jose will mess up by violating the conditions of his parole. Or he will re-offend by committing another crime. I hope he makes it, however.
Knowing Jose as I do, he has shown himself to be mature and sensible in spite of his mental illness and his prior struggles with drugs. Jose was a street addict who almost lost everything by living as he did. He'd buy drugs in his own neighborhood, thus causing the police to visit his house at all hours. In addition, his addiction would cause him to lose contact with his family for days at a time. Jose would get stuck inside a Crack house and his wife wouldn't know where he was or how to get in touch with him. Sometimes she thought he was probably lying dead in an alley, just waiting to be found. But then came his arrest, and he was gone altogether.
Now, some five years later, Jose is on the rebound. For the time being, he will not be allowed to live at home. He showed me his parole plan, which has already been set up by the Office of Parole. He will be living in the southeast Bronx, in a location near where I grew up. I know exactly where his residence is because I lived in this area when I was a kid. The building was once a two family brownstone that was at some point converted into a twelve bed neighborhood group home for addicts on the mend, and for parolees. It's a high crime area, too. And Jose will have to live here until someone makes the determination that he could return to his former apartment in the west Bronx, a long subway's ride from his new place.
Fortunately, Jose will still be able to see his family. I think that the parole people feel that with him living in his old neighborhood, where he knows all the drug spots, it would be too much of a temptation. So they'll keep him in this new residence and in this program for a while. They will watch him closely as well, with periodic drug testing and lots of visits with the psychiatrist he'll be assigned to.
In the months before Jose left, he would sometimes go to church. He attended several of our Bible studies too. I also gave him a good quality Bible to take with him. And the day before he left, in addition to praying for him, we hugged and said our goodbyes.
Obviously, I don't know what will become of Jose, just like I don't know what will become of all the guys who leave here on parole or conditional release. All I can do is pray for Jose and put him into the hands of God.
D.B.
In all my years here, it never gets any easier when I see other men walk out the doors. I'm happy for him, of course. And Jose let me pray for him before he left. Nevertheless, to see a man walk free is a bittersweet thing. First, because I cannot go. Second, because I will not see him again. Third, because I don't know how he's going to do. Either Jose will be successful with his reentry into society and in re-uniting with his family, or at some point, Jose will mess up by violating the conditions of his parole. Or he will re-offend by committing another crime. I hope he makes it, however.
Knowing Jose as I do, he has shown himself to be mature and sensible in spite of his mental illness and his prior struggles with drugs. Jose was a street addict who almost lost everything by living as he did. He'd buy drugs in his own neighborhood, thus causing the police to visit his house at all hours. In addition, his addiction would cause him to lose contact with his family for days at a time. Jose would get stuck inside a Crack house and his wife wouldn't know where he was or how to get in touch with him. Sometimes she thought he was probably lying dead in an alley, just waiting to be found. But then came his arrest, and he was gone altogether.
Now, some five years later, Jose is on the rebound. For the time being, he will not be allowed to live at home. He showed me his parole plan, which has already been set up by the Office of Parole. He will be living in the southeast Bronx, in a location near where I grew up. I know exactly where his residence is because I lived in this area when I was a kid. The building was once a two family brownstone that was at some point converted into a twelve bed neighborhood group home for addicts on the mend, and for parolees. It's a high crime area, too. And Jose will have to live here until someone makes the determination that he could return to his former apartment in the west Bronx, a long subway's ride from his new place.
Fortunately, Jose will still be able to see his family. I think that the parole people feel that with him living in his old neighborhood, where he knows all the drug spots, it would be too much of a temptation. So they'll keep him in this new residence and in this program for a while. They will watch him closely as well, with periodic drug testing and lots of visits with the psychiatrist he'll be assigned to.
In the months before Jose left, he would sometimes go to church. He attended several of our Bible studies too. I also gave him a good quality Bible to take with him. And the day before he left, in addition to praying for him, we hugged and said our goodbyes.
Obviously, I don't know what will become of Jose, just like I don't know what will become of all the guys who leave here on parole or conditional release. All I can do is pray for Jose and put him into the hands of God.
D.B.
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