The news I received yesterday on the denial of the transfer application...
...that had been made for me back in June - something which I did not request, but corrections personnel in Albany recommended - made me reflect on past transfers.
Prior to my coming to Sullivan Correctional Facility, I spent about three years inside the infamous Attica prison, having come "upstate" in 1978, then leaving Attica in the spring of 1981. It was a tough and violent place. But doing time there helped to prepare me for the rigors of prison life. I would liken it to a prolonged period of basic training. Even one isolated incident in 1979, when an inmate slashed the left side of my throat with a razor blade, turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I handled the incident well. I refused to "squeal" on my attacker and ended up earning a lot of respect from my peers. Within a week I was back at my former job, chalking it up to a learning experience, and moving on.
After leaving Attica, I was transferred to Clinton Correctional Facility, another very violent place, which is located in the sleepy town of Dannemora, New York, in the north-eastern part of the state. Just off the Adirondack Northway and not too far from the Canadian border, Dannemora would probably not be in existence today if not for the huge prison which sits in the middle of it.
The remoteness of Clinton Correctional Facility, with its formidable gray walls and its many gun towers, to include the long and bitterly cold Siberian winters of the region, might give one the frightening feeling that if you have the misfortune of having to enter through its steel doors, there's the very real chance that you'll never leave there alive. That's how I felt the moment I first saw the place.
I ended up spending seven long years in Clinton until my transfer to Sullivan in 1987. It boggles my mind to think that I have now spent about 35 years behind the walls of various prisons. And it is only by the grace of God that I have survived, and done well, too.
D.B.
Prior to my coming to Sullivan Correctional Facility, I spent about three years inside the infamous Attica prison, having come "upstate" in 1978, then leaving Attica in the spring of 1981. It was a tough and violent place. But doing time there helped to prepare me for the rigors of prison life. I would liken it to a prolonged period of basic training. Even one isolated incident in 1979, when an inmate slashed the left side of my throat with a razor blade, turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I handled the incident well. I refused to "squeal" on my attacker and ended up earning a lot of respect from my peers. Within a week I was back at my former job, chalking it up to a learning experience, and moving on.
After leaving Attica, I was transferred to Clinton Correctional Facility, another very violent place, which is located in the sleepy town of Dannemora, New York, in the north-eastern part of the state. Just off the Adirondack Northway and not too far from the Canadian border, Dannemora would probably not be in existence today if not for the huge prison which sits in the middle of it.
The remoteness of Clinton Correctional Facility, with its formidable gray walls and its many gun towers, to include the long and bitterly cold Siberian winters of the region, might give one the frightening feeling that if you have the misfortune of having to enter through its steel doors, there's the very real chance that you'll never leave there alive. That's how I felt the moment I first saw the place.
I ended up spending seven long years in Clinton until my transfer to Sullivan in 1987. It boggles my mind to think that I have now spent about 35 years behind the walls of various prisons. And it is only by the grace of God that I have survived, and done well, too.
D.B.
