My voice shall thou hear in the morning,
O Lord; in the morning will I direct my
prayer unto thee, and I will look up.
Psalm 5:3
I'm usually up and awake by 5-5:30 every day...
O Lord; in the morning will I direct my
prayer unto thee, and I will look up.
Psalm 5:3
I'm usually up and awake by 5-5:30 every day...
At six o'clock is the announcement over the cell block's loudspeaker of "Lights on for the count!" This is the mandatory standing count in which every prisoner must be fully dressed, with his overhead cell light on, and standing near the front of his gate, so he could be counted by the officer as he or she makes their rounds.
The count allows the guard to make sure everyone's alive and well, and has not died or escaped during the night. "The Count," as it's known, is done 365 days per year in every correctional facility in the state of New York.
I love the predawn hours the most. The wake-up call has not yet been given. So for the most part, the cell block is quiet and still. For me, it's the perfect time to read my Bible and pray. But as six o'clock approaches, one can hear the stirring of the other prisoners as toilets begin to flush, and sinks begin to run as the men awaken to a new day.
Then, once the count is over, which usually takes about ten minutes, the men have free time to do whatever we want in our cells until seven o'clock, when it's off to the messhall for breakfast.
Then after about fifteen minutes, with breakfast done, we're back in our cells until around 8 o'clock when the public address system barks, "Programs!" This means that everyone who's assigned to a job or to a school program must leave the cell block and report to their assigned areas.
There's lots of commotion when programs are called. Cell doors pop open. Guys are grabbing their belongings, and those who have places to report to, are all on the move. There's pandemonium as dozens of guys are talking at once or yelling greetings to friends. But when everyone who had to leave is finally out the door, a degree of quiet returns. But not fully.
Now, the cell block's clean-up crew begins their task of cleaning the building. Mops and brooms, and trash pickup. As for me, because I have most mornings off, I am free to stay in my cell. This is a blessing because now comes my time to write.
My work hours start in the afternoon, where I am the chaplain's clerk. While in the evenings, on certain days, I will go to the chapel. But on two other nights, however, I attend college. And whenever I manage to have a night off, I will stay in my cell in order to answer correspondence. Or I will go to the recreation yard to exercise and get fresh air.
My days are usually busy ones. I stay active. I thank God for my overall health. But my favorite time is in the mornings before sunrise, and before the place gets noisy and emotions run wild. Prison is a "high energy" place. That's how I would describe it. Lots of turbulence. But God gives me peace in the midst of the storms.
D.B.
The count allows the guard to make sure everyone's alive and well, and has not died or escaped during the night. "The Count," as it's known, is done 365 days per year in every correctional facility in the state of New York.
I love the predawn hours the most. The wake-up call has not yet been given. So for the most part, the cell block is quiet and still. For me, it's the perfect time to read my Bible and pray. But as six o'clock approaches, one can hear the stirring of the other prisoners as toilets begin to flush, and sinks begin to run as the men awaken to a new day.
Then, once the count is over, which usually takes about ten minutes, the men have free time to do whatever we want in our cells until seven o'clock, when it's off to the messhall for breakfast.
Then after about fifteen minutes, with breakfast done, we're back in our cells until around 8 o'clock when the public address system barks, "Programs!" This means that everyone who's assigned to a job or to a school program must leave the cell block and report to their assigned areas.
There's lots of commotion when programs are called. Cell doors pop open. Guys are grabbing their belongings, and those who have places to report to, are all on the move. There's pandemonium as dozens of guys are talking at once or yelling greetings to friends. But when everyone who had to leave is finally out the door, a degree of quiet returns. But not fully.
Now, the cell block's clean-up crew begins their task of cleaning the building. Mops and brooms, and trash pickup. As for me, because I have most mornings off, I am free to stay in my cell. This is a blessing because now comes my time to write.
My work hours start in the afternoon, where I am the chaplain's clerk. While in the evenings, on certain days, I will go to the chapel. But on two other nights, however, I attend college. And whenever I manage to have a night off, I will stay in my cell in order to answer correspondence. Or I will go to the recreation yard to exercise and get fresh air.
My days are usually busy ones. I stay active. I thank God for my overall health. But my favorite time is in the mornings before sunrise, and before the place gets noisy and emotions run wild. Prison is a "high energy" place. That's how I would describe it. Lots of turbulence. But God gives me peace in the midst of the storms.
D.B.
