About fifteen minutes ago, a small squad of correction officers entered the cell block wearing their protective gloves and carrying nightsticks...
They came to take a prisoner to "The Box."
I don’t know what he did or had been accused of, but the prisoner is a young black man, maybe in his early 30s. He was living in my cell block for about a year, and although he never talked much, he was clearly the angry-brooding type.
No matter where he went in the facility, I would observe Scowl Face walking stiffly. His muscles remained tensed in such a way that he reminded me of a lion getting ready to pounce upon its prey. He gave off bad "vibes," too. So he was oftentimes seen sitting alone in the dayroom. His unfriendly face and his body language bespoke a clear message: "Stay the heck away from me!"
I do not recall ever seeing him smile. On occasion, I saw him arguing with a fellow prisoner or with a staff member. Men with seething rage are a common sight in here, and Scowl Face was an obvious case of consuming fury.
I had watched as the team of guards who, along with a sergeant who stood by in his standard supervisory role, handcuffed Scowl Face behind his back. Then, with the cuffs locked in place, they marched him out of the building.
He gave them no resistance, and he did not say a word. The entire operation took about five to seven minutes and Scowl Face was gone.
Taking a prisoner to ‘The Box’ is a routine event. After a man is handcuffed, and assuming he offers no resistance, he is then escorted by several guards along with a sergeant through the facility’s corridors to an area far from the regular cell blocks. It’s benignly called the "Special Housing Unit," which the staff usually refers to by its abbreviated name, "SHU." But in the vernacular of the inmates it is commonly called "The Box," "Solitary," or "The Hole."
SHU is basically a prison within a prison, and it is reserved for those who commit the most serious of disciplinary infractions. A greater majority of the men, however, when they break a rule, end up confined to their own cells for twenty-three hours per day. They will also lose all their privileges such as the opportunity to use the telephone, go to the commissary or the main recreation yards, or take a daily shower.
The one positive thing that I remember about this man was when I was sitting in the dayroom having an impromptu Bible study with a few of the guys, when I noticed him looking at us and listening intently to our discussion. But when I smiled at him and politely asked if he’d like to join us, he immediately grimaced and said, "Naw." Yet, he continued to watch and listen.
Mostly, though, during the few times I said hello to him in passing, he would merely mumble something under his breath and continue walking, never making eye contact.
Now, unfortunately, Scowl Face is going to have plenty of time to stew in his anger. He’s really a lonely man who needs God in his life.
D.B.
I don’t know what he did or had been accused of, but the prisoner is a young black man, maybe in his early 30s. He was living in my cell block for about a year, and although he never talked much, he was clearly the angry-brooding type.
No matter where he went in the facility, I would observe Scowl Face walking stiffly. His muscles remained tensed in such a way that he reminded me of a lion getting ready to pounce upon its prey. He gave off bad "vibes," too. So he was oftentimes seen sitting alone in the dayroom. His unfriendly face and his body language bespoke a clear message: "Stay the heck away from me!"
I do not recall ever seeing him smile. On occasion, I saw him arguing with a fellow prisoner or with a staff member. Men with seething rage are a common sight in here, and Scowl Face was an obvious case of consuming fury.
I had watched as the team of guards who, along with a sergeant who stood by in his standard supervisory role, handcuffed Scowl Face behind his back. Then, with the cuffs locked in place, they marched him out of the building.
He gave them no resistance, and he did not say a word. The entire operation took about five to seven minutes and Scowl Face was gone.
Taking a prisoner to ‘The Box’ is a routine event. After a man is handcuffed, and assuming he offers no resistance, he is then escorted by several guards along with a sergeant through the facility’s corridors to an area far from the regular cell blocks. It’s benignly called the "Special Housing Unit," which the staff usually refers to by its abbreviated name, "SHU." But in the vernacular of the inmates it is commonly called "The Box," "Solitary," or "The Hole."
SHU is basically a prison within a prison, and it is reserved for those who commit the most serious of disciplinary infractions. A greater majority of the men, however, when they break a rule, end up confined to their own cells for twenty-three hours per day. They will also lose all their privileges such as the opportunity to use the telephone, go to the commissary or the main recreation yards, or take a daily shower.
The one positive thing that I remember about this man was when I was sitting in the dayroom having an impromptu Bible study with a few of the guys, when I noticed him looking at us and listening intently to our discussion. But when I smiled at him and politely asked if he’d like to join us, he immediately grimaced and said, "Naw." Yet, he continued to watch and listen.
Mostly, though, during the few times I said hello to him in passing, he would merely mumble something under his breath and continue walking, never making eye contact.
Now, unfortunately, Scowl Face is going to have plenty of time to stew in his anger. He’s really a lonely man who needs God in his life.
D.B.
