Prison Puzzle Pieces. Dave Basham
it.
Luckily the rope came down quicker that it went up. I wasn't allowed to stay in this area. I had to wait in an area where supposedly no inmates would be. I would be doing nothing for a couple of hours while the prison went though their routine of serving some inmates lunch, conducting count and then serving the rest of the inmates their lunch.
When the prison was through with their business, my two inmate helpers came back. I rigged up my rope again. We got the hopper loaded on the truck and all of the smaller pieces down off the second floor and loaded on the truck.
There was one large piece to get down from the second floor. This is where I got in big trouble. This piece was so large; I couldn't figure out how it got up there, much less how I was going to get it out.
Have you ever heard that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing? Well, I had knowledge of elevators from working at the Pan-O-Gold Bakery. The freight elevator there was old, decrepit and the inspectors were always threatening to shut it down. Whenever the inspectors came in, they were bestowed with a massive amount of bakery goods. This caused the bakery to avoid citations, avoid properly fixing the elevators and it caused the inspectors to come in a lot for their free food. I learned a lot about jury rigging elevators in order to get a job accomplished.
I decided that I would try to get this large flour system part down the elevator by finagling the different switches and things to keep the doors open while I slowly dropped the elevator down and manipulated the large part while moving between floor levels. What I wasn't aware of was all of the security systems within this facility. A loud alarm went off. I mean it really went off. What I was doing was the kind of thing inmates would do if they were trying to escape. Hey, I was just trying to finish a job that would've been impossible to do any other way.
Instantly there were several officers on the spot. They weren't happy. I explained what I was doing. They radioed what was going on while other officers kept showing up. My inmate helpers looked very concerned with being involved in this. As the elevator was between floors at this time, I was allowed to finish what I was doing so they could get things back to normal. Maintenance engineers showed up to fix, reset or whatever they had to do to get things back to normal from what I had done. By the time I got the piece off the elevator and they got the alarm shut off, there was a huge congregation of officers and big shot looking people around. I was sternly chastised as this congregation started to dissolve. I was glad this happened at the end of the job rather than earlier or the atmosphere here would've been even more uncomfortable than it was already.
As we finished loading the truck and securing the load, I noticed inmates out in the yard. There was a guy that was well over 300 pounds with a shaved head and lots of tattoos walking around the track. There were two guys walking with him. They were on each side of him, a half a step back. There was a large group walking orderly behind them. The guys I was working with told me the big guy was the leader of the gang.
I drove the truck to the sallyport. The officers were all over and inside my truck. They were looking inside every piece that I had picked up. I thought they checked everything out thoroughly when I came in. This search made the first one look like nothing. I suppose my elevator escapade didn't help matters any. They gave me the tools and equipment that I had left with them. They made sure I was leaving with the same amount of rope that I came in with and they made sure I was leaving with the hack saw blade that I had brought in.
When they opened the outside gate, I drove off hoping that I would never have to go back there again.
MY PERSPECTIVES – WE ARE CREATED
Some people believe that criminals are born criminals. I don't believe that. I believe they are created. I believe we are all a product of what has happened to us in our lives. Speaking with many an inmate, things they told me about themselves, their environment, what happened to them in their lives, how they spoke, these and so many other things gave me clues as to how they became who they were and justified the things they did.
As I stated previously, I have always been extremely shy. Dysfunctionally shy. This was instilled in me by my mother. The attitudes of "don't speak until your spoken to", "you can't do that", "who in the hell do you think you are", "nobody else in our family has ever done that," "what makes you think you're better than the rest of us" rang loud and clear from her. This mentality was beaten into me really well.
My mother definitely did not believe in the phrase "Spare the rod and spoil the child." Every day she made sure I wouldn't become spoiled. We won't get into her psyche; only as to how it created who I am and how it relates to how I did my job in the prison. Sometimes I just got slapped or pulled around by my hair. I could really use some of that hair back now. Sometimes, getting beaten with things like belts, yardsticks, fly swatters and branches from weeping willow trees was my cure. Oh how I still hate weeping willow trees.
I remember really well the fly swatters that she had. They had wire handles with a plastic swatter part on it. She would swat me with them until the plastic broke off. Then she would get really angry that I broke her fly swatter. Her level of rage would go off the charts and she would continue whipping me with that wire. She was very good at making sure that no marks were left where anyone would be able to see what was going on.
I remember reading the book "Mommy Dearest." I thought, "Boy, I sure wish she had been my mom. What's this kid complaining about. She had it easy."
Other people have been abused like this and worse. Some whine and want sympathy; I feel I gained strength from this. There is little anyone can do to me or say to me that would deter me from doing what I am supposed to do. My mind stays on task and pain cannot stop me.
It was good for her to do this to me though, because as she explained it, I was a rotten little kid and she was doing it for my own good.
For my own good? Well, yes and no. I've wondered at times what I could have done in life if I had been brought up not as something to use and control, but as something to guide; something to train to be able to do anything I desired to do in this short life. I've wondered what it would be like to have the power that goes along with being a fully functional human being with a normal thought process.
But, you must use to your advantage what you get and not do the "poor me" routine that many of the incarcerated do.
In order to function in this world, I had to look at what others considered to be normal. Taking an A – B – C approach has been quite beneficial to help me blend in with normal society, as much as I can any way. But my mind also looks around corners and jumps from A to X to D to Z. Basically my mind gets me there, but provides me with many options; some better than the normal, some worse and some that make me see how the criminals mind got to where it went.
FEAR
The fear of public speaking is the number one fear of most people. I have now conquered that.
People are afraid of getting beaten, injured or of pain. I was beaten so much as a kid that I got used to it and didn't fear that. Actually when I got big enough so that my mother feared me and the beatings stopped, it was like something was missing.
People fear embarrassing themselves. I've done that so many times, I'm used to it now and intentionally do things that others would never consider doing.
People fear dying. People in my family generally don't live a long time. I figure that because of some of the crazy stunts I've pulled over my lifetime, I should've been dead or killed long ago.
I have a logical mind; at least that's the way my mind sees it. I see things as "shit happens". I can't control what someone else does, natural disasters or accidents. Dealing with things to the best of my abilities is all I can control. Whatever the consequences, "que sera sera". (For those of you who have never heard that phrase, it means "Whatever will be will be." It is in an old Doris Day song.)
I have self preservation instincts to some degree, but I also like challenges, both physical and mental.
My beatings and the way I was handled gave me a different kind of power that I have used frequently