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Foreword MUMIA ABU-JAMAL I t would be sheer understatement for me to praise Joe Grant’s prison bio as “groundbreaking,” “moving,” or “eye-opening.” It is all these things, but certainly much more. It is history, as told by a talented raconteur, to be sure. But it is more. It is journalism. Joseph W. Grant (or, the man formerly known as prisoner #84219, FCI Leavenworth) has completed a work of history, first-person, of the days when the imprisoned were known as “prisoners,” not “inmates.” Notably, the latter term rarely enters his narrative. He writes sparely, with a sense of humor that is both understated and delightful—a kind of “gallows humor” used by cons and cops. Smiling in the midst of madness. And horror. Remarkably, Grant resisted repeated urgings for him to pen his memoirs. All the more remarkable in that he is quite a talented writer, with an eye for detail, an ear for dialogue, and a memory scarred as only a prisoner’s can be. He has also lived through and seen some of the most memorable times of the twentieth century. Want to know the inside story of how the Cuban Revolution got armed—and the role American sailors had in arming the rebels? Look no further than between these pages. Imagine, if you will, that you are in a maximum security prison (well, some of us ain’t got to imagine), and you want to put out a newspaper. No, you don’t get it. Not an administratively approved, guard-censored newspaper. An underground newspaper. Grant, writing like it’s a script from a Stephen King science-fiction series, pens how he and his homies did it—under the nose of the guards, chaplain, and administrators—and then got it distributed throughout the joint! This is journalism, of a kind that never made it into the curriculum of J-School. This ain’t your grandmama’s New York Times. This is the real stuff. Grant gives us all a bird’s-eye view of how prisons ran during the sixties and seventies, xii | Foreword and gives us a glimpse of what might have been, before the prison reform movement fell into the black hole of the corrections industry, and the culture of mass fear emerged. His recollections of the broad movements of the sixties and seventies will give young readers history lessons about what was once possible in the U.S. This is especially important as these words are written, and we witness the emergence of the Occupy Wall Street movement. Grant’s heart-work, or that which quickens his blood and fevers his imagination, was the launching of the Prisoners’ Digest International, a radical journal that swam into prisons across the country and inspired poets, artists, journalists, and readers to join the effort and make it a success. I admit, cleanly and fully, the following: Before reading this work, I had never heard of Joseph W. Grant, nor the PDI. Although we’ve certainly lived through much of the same era, and undoubtedly crossed some of the same streets, I wasn’t aware of this remarkable story when it was being written on hope and a dream. I am therefore doubly grateful to have read this work, and learned of corners of the U.S. Incarceral Empire. I, like you, am grateful to have this opportunity to do so now. Don’t do it because I say so. Do it because it’s a great story. Do it because it’s great first-person history. Do it because the dreams of yesterday must once again take wing, to bring new days to live in the vast prison house that we all inhabit today. ...

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