Prison, Inc.: A Convict Exposes Life Inside a Private Prison

13. Aftermath

Aftermath If I beat down a motherfucker I’d be straight and probably never get caught. But say I talked in the halls and I’m subject to thirty days in seg and lose everything. —Lowe Jordan We’re not running a seg hotel! —Assistant Warden Tate “Good morning,” Assistant Warden Tate said to all those in the office for the meeting. “I want to touch on some areas of the seg unit and disciplinary system. First, no man leaves early from seg. No time served, no credit for the days they spend there before their hearing.” Hearing Examiner Hanson nodded. “No longer will men be placed in seg without a disciplinary report. No more placing them under investigation and never following up.” “Okay,” Chief of Security Milburn agreed, “I hope IA listens.” Chief Walker was long gone. Maybe he got tired of working under Tate, or maybe he had been forced out. The rumors had been flying around that the riot was his fault. I thought that, in order to rid themselves of a problem and to have someone to blame, the corporation had forced him out with some others. They also may have given him a transfer. I don’t know what happened, but I do know that Chief Walker was pretty lax. “I spoke to them. Moss doesn’t work there any more. But I told them if they investigate and put an inmate in seg, a DR must follow.” Where Walker was gone entirely, Moss had changed jobs and now was a counselor in the prison. “What if we run out of room?” “Double up. There are two bunks in the cell!” “Chief and I know,” Hanson began, “that all men can’t be doubled.” 13 161 “I know there are some exceptions but there are fewer exceptions than not. Just because a guy doesn’t want to double isn’t a reason to not double him. Also, stop giving them all their property. If an inmate goes to segregation he must only get the minimum required property. The canteen orders should be limited, too. I have two lists—one for what they can have and one for what they can order. We’re not running a seg hotel!” Tate kept drilling into them the need for control. * * * “Anonymous,” Lowe said as I entered work, “what’s up?” “All right now.” “Did Paul go to segregation?” Paul was that dope-smoking buddy who I used to watch hunting and fishing shows with. He is the one who had accidentally tipped the gang boyees off that I had drugs and money, which resulted in my assault. After that, I stopped hanging out with him, even though I didn’t directly blame him for what had happened to me. “Yep. He left yesterday. I guess they came and got him or sent him a pass to come on down!” Paul’s dope-smoking habit had caught up with him. The officer pat searched me coming in, and then I moved back to the rear of the laundry to continue talking. After the lockdown had ended, I actually had a stroke of luck. I got hired in the laundry. Over time, I got Lowe in to see about working there too. But Tate had insisted on a new thing coming in to work: mandatory pat search. “He will be there for a while.” “They won’t keep him too long. I was surprised that they took a UA test on Tuesday and didn’t get him until the following week. That didn’t make sense.” “No, Anonymous, they changed that now. They were putting men in seg immediately after running their stick tests but I guess on one occasion they locked up like thirty dudes that were innocent.” “I remember hearing something about that.” “Here’s what happened. The stupid motherfucker giving the test couldn’t administer it right. I don’t know what’s so hard about dipping a stick into piss then comparing it to a chart. But after he damn near locked up everyone he tested, they finally figured out he was doing something wrong. So now if your stick test comes up dirty, they send it to a lab before they lock anyone up. Tate, I guess, started that.” 162 | Aftermath “I wonder how many they locked up without really being dirty? You know the state system will add time to...