“It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this comes the judgment.”
Hebrews 9:27
It was around 10 o'clock yesterday evening when a correction officer whom I'd never seen before…
Hebrews 9:27
It was around 10 o'clock yesterday evening when a correction officer whom I'd never seen before…
…walked into the entranceway of my housing unit, also known as a cell block. He was carrying a heavy five-foot-long solid steel chain, while at the same time calling to the officer in the unit's Control Room saying, “I gotta lock up cell number 141.”
It was not a surprise. I'd been expecting the news. About two weeks ago, I helped two officers take a friend of mine to the prison's Infirmary, as he had become very ill. It was around 7 o'clock in the evening when one of the guards in my housing unit came to my cell and said, “Dave, we gotta take a man to the Infirmary. Get ready.”
My job at the prison is Mobility Assistant. I help to care for the men who have a handicap, and need a wheelchair to get around in. So I went downstairs to the first floor to help my friend get dressed. He was completely immobile. He couldn't speak or move. Thus, it took a while to get him ready to transport him to Medical.
But once we were done getting his outer clothes on, it was off to the infirmary, with me pushing him in his chair as the guards walked alongside us. And once the medical staff saw the condition the inmate was in, they immediately said, “We're calling for an ambulance!”
So with the inmate now under the care of the prison's medical staff, the two officers and I returned to the cell block. Since it was getting late, I locked in for the evening, while they prepared to leave. Their shift had come to an end. For me, however, it was time to pray. My friend Jimmy* didn't look good. He'd been unresponsive throughout the whole ordeal. Therefore, if anyone needed prayer, it was him.
Jimmy was placed in an outside hospital. So his friends, including me, had no way to find out how he was doing. Neither could we get word to him. Therefore, it was a matter of waiting. We didn't know if his health was improving or worsening. Yet my church group and I continued to pray for him, even though Jimmy was of a different faith.
But then, about two weeks later, came the news. And it came in an unexpected way. As I sat in my cell on the second floor, from where it so happens that I could see the front entranceway into the building, in walked a prison guard carrying that heavy chain, as I mentioned in the first paragraph of this entry. Seeing it let me know that Jimmy was dead.
The officer, without realizing it, had actually revealed Jimmy's fate. And the other prisoners in my housing unit recognized it as well. Within minutes, they were yelling to one another, “Jimmy's dead”
Fellow prisoners, seeing the officer walking down the tier with the chain in hand, was for us, our version of “Breaking News.” And when he stopped in front of Jim's cell, there was no longer any doubt. Jimmy's prison sentence got cut short when he stepped into eternity. I will miss him.
D.B.
*Jimmy is not his real name.
It was not a surprise. I'd been expecting the news. About two weeks ago, I helped two officers take a friend of mine to the prison's Infirmary, as he had become very ill. It was around 7 o'clock in the evening when one of the guards in my housing unit came to my cell and said, “Dave, we gotta take a man to the Infirmary. Get ready.”
My job at the prison is Mobility Assistant. I help to care for the men who have a handicap, and need a wheelchair to get around in. So I went downstairs to the first floor to help my friend get dressed. He was completely immobile. He couldn't speak or move. Thus, it took a while to get him ready to transport him to Medical.
But once we were done getting his outer clothes on, it was off to the infirmary, with me pushing him in his chair as the guards walked alongside us. And once the medical staff saw the condition the inmate was in, they immediately said, “We're calling for an ambulance!”
So with the inmate now under the care of the prison's medical staff, the two officers and I returned to the cell block. Since it was getting late, I locked in for the evening, while they prepared to leave. Their shift had come to an end. For me, however, it was time to pray. My friend Jimmy* didn't look good. He'd been unresponsive throughout the whole ordeal. Therefore, if anyone needed prayer, it was him.
Jimmy was placed in an outside hospital. So his friends, including me, had no way to find out how he was doing. Neither could we get word to him. Therefore, it was a matter of waiting. We didn't know if his health was improving or worsening. Yet my church group and I continued to pray for him, even though Jimmy was of a different faith.
But then, about two weeks later, came the news. And it came in an unexpected way. As I sat in my cell on the second floor, from where it so happens that I could see the front entranceway into the building, in walked a prison guard carrying that heavy chain, as I mentioned in the first paragraph of this entry. Seeing it let me know that Jimmy was dead.
The officer, without realizing it, had actually revealed Jimmy's fate. And the other prisoners in my housing unit recognized it as well. Within minutes, they were yelling to one another, “Jimmy's dead”
Fellow prisoners, seeing the officer walking down the tier with the chain in hand, was for us, our version of “Breaking News.” And when he stopped in front of Jim's cell, there was no longer any doubt. Jimmy's prison sentence got cut short when he stepped into eternity. I will miss him.
D.B.
*Jimmy is not his real name.