Newjack (56 page)

I’ve traveled across the country doing interviews about my experience, and the surprising thing—compared to other book publicity I’ve done—is that I don’t get tired of it. One reason is the long time I had to keep the experience a secret. Any ordeal benefits from being talked about, and I was denied that by the route I chose. Writing the book was sometimes therapeutic in the same way, though just as often the prospect of sitting down at my desk on a sunny morning and mentally transporting myself back to Sing Sing for the day was painful.

I had dreams about Sing Sing while I was there and since, though oddly I never had nightmares until the book was published and I was talking about it every day. These really bad dreams have usually involved scenarios in which I—and sometimes my family—get attacked by inmates or other criminals, usually with a knife. I happened to recount this to a group of medical professionals at a convention of the American Public Health
Association, and a psychiatrist suggested it was probably post-traumatic stress disorder. That seems like rather a grand name for it, and I don’t want to suggest that I went through anything like what soldiers who saw combat in Vietnam did. But I do think that if you repress something regularly (in my case, fear), it’s going to come back to haunt you.

My wife, Margot, is of course asked all the time how she put up with me working at prison, how the household endured it. I’m proud of her generous answer, which is that thousands of people married to correction officers do the same thing every day, often for years at a time, and she only had to put up with months. I try to keep my own experience in the same perspective.

In radio and television interviews, many of the same questions come up again and again. For a while last summer, I thought I’d heard them all, the natural questions of someone who hadn’t read the book. (“Why would you do a thing like that? Is there a lot of rape in there? Are many of the guards really brutal?”) But then I was interviewed over the phone from Detroit by Mitch Albom, who wrote the book
Tuesdays with Morrie
. His third question, which seemed simple, caught me off guard: How did you feel on your last day? “I felt great,” I began almost reflexively, but then paused—there were complicated feelings there that I hadn’t examined—and finished, “but maybe also a bit sad.”

In the weeks since, I’ve thought about that question a lot. My last visit to Sing Sing was not the New Year’s Eve described in the epilogue; it was the day, about a week later, when I drove back up to Ossining to turn in my badge and I.D. and uniforms. My mood was bright as I entered the prison wearing blue jeans for the first time ever, uniforms on hangers slung over my shoulder. Near the gate was a young Latino officer from the Bronx whom I had helped train and whom I liked.

“Hey, where you going?” he asked me, uncomprehending, as I headed up the stairs to the personnel office. The answer was obvious, of course, but I could see he was surprised. He told me he’d learned more working with me than with several veteran officers who hadn’t taken much time with him. I’d been part of his induction, his
teacher
, for chrissakes—and here I was, bailing? The look on his face reminded me of the look on the face of the inmate I’d taken to the ER when he thought he had a cockroach in his ear. “Where are you going?” the inmate had asked when he saw me on the gate at the end of my shift. Back home, was the answer, back
to my life. And yet, and yet—work in so many ways
becomes
our lives. Here I was so needed, and there was so much to be done.

My step was lighter as I returned to the car where my wife was waiting. But I felt an unmistakable regret. It was as though I’d spent a year as an exchange student in some chaotic Third World backwater, I’d tell a friend later. I’d been there long enough to learn some of the exotic language, survive some of its brutal customs, become fond of many of the locals—and now I’d never be back, would never need that hard-won knowledge again. And so I felt strangely wistful. It was a realization, a passage, that probably would have found a way into the original
Newjack
if I’d had it sooner.

Some readers will leave this book wondering what we should do about our prisons. We pay billions of dollars a year in this country to run institutions that few would argue leave the people who go through them—inmates and officers alike—worse off in many ways than they were when they went in. It is a huge problem, but there are a few simple changes that I think would make a great difference.

First, states need to repeal mandatory sentencing laws for drug offenses. Prisons should be for violent criminals, not mainly poor men from rough neighborhoods who get caught selling or using drugs. I think that most prison time for drug possession does more harm—to families as well as to offenders—than good. New York and California are just beginning to give first-time drug offenders treatment instead of prison sentences, and that’s a positive development.

Second, studies have shown again and again that nothing lowers recidivism rates like education. Refusing to consider post-secondary education as a frontline attack on crime is a terrible mistake. Prisons should start teaching again, and with officers justly resentful at inmates being offered for free what ordinary citizens have to pay for, it makes sense to me that officers should be allowed to take part in these same classes, off duty.

Along these same lines, I think we should take the lead of European countries in trying to blur the sharp line that exists in our prisons between guards and other employees. The term “correction officer” is imbued with the promise of reform and assistance. I think it would help to rehabilitate prisons themselves if officers
taught some of the classes, did some of the counseling, were allowed to engage their own hearts and minds on the job, instead of just having to pretend they don’t have any.

A researcher I admire, Kelsey Kauffman, has written that “prisons are perhaps the most racially divisive institutions in America today.” I think she makes a good case. Prisons in our country sow a lot of racial hatred, both inmate-to-inmate and between inmate and officer. And almost everyone in prison eventually comes out, spreading this hatred. We should work hard to improve the prisons in our society—take up the unfinished work of Thomas Mott Osborne and transform these scrap heaps into repair shops, to paraphrase the great reformer. Not all inmates can be helped, but some can, and it’s foolish to let them languish. And, because prisons are the unhappy symptom of our violent and grossly unequal society, we should recall the words of inmate Larson: stop planning for the incarceration needs of today’s children, and instead begin reducing their poverty and increasing their opportunity. It’s now 175 years since Sing Sing was built—way past time we tried some new ideas.

*
I have since learned that the redacted pages are 39–40, 49–50, 51–52, 81–82, 277–278, and 279–280.

It plainly derives:
Norman Johnston,
The Human Cage: A Brief History of Prison Architecture
, p. 40.

an annual budget of $1.6 billion:
According to Robert Gangi, executive director of the Correctional Association of New York, the DOCS budget figures do not include the cost of pensions and other benefits; a more accurate figure, as of 2000, would be $2.3 billion. (Personal communication, 21 January 2000).

California, where prisons are already at double capacity:
Eric Schlosser, “The Prison-Industrial Complex,”
The Atlantic Monthly
, December 1998, p. 52.

Since the dismantling of apartheid:
Comparisons of international rates of incarceration are periodically published by The Sentencing Project, 1516 P Street, NW, Washington, D.C. 20005.

By mid-1998:
Allen J. Beck and Christopher J. Mumola, “Prisoners in 1998,” Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S. Department of Justice, 810 Seventh Street, NW, Washington, D.C. 20531.

In the 1990s:
The Sentencing Project and
New York Times
editorial, 13 March 1999.

highest rates of divorce:
I was unable to independently verify Puma’s claims.

Concomitant with the rise of imprisonment:
The Corrections Yearbook 1982
, Pound Ridge, N.Y.: Criminal Justice Institute, 1983, p. 33, and
The Corrections Yearbook 1988
, Middletown, Conn.: Criminal Justice Institute, 1999, p. 133.

It reminded me of Philip Zimbardo’s famous experiment:
C. Haney, C. Banks, and P. Zimbardo, “Interpersonal dynamics in a simulated prison,”
International Journal of Criminology and Penology
, 1973, pp.
69–97
.

Zimbardo has since accepted some criticism:
“Zimbardo’s Prison—Renowned professor calls 1970s prison experiment unethical,”
The Stanford Daily Online
, 14 May 1996.

He pointed out, entirely correctly:
The Green Mile
, a movie starring Tom Hanks that was released in 1999 after my period of prison employment, broke new ground by portraying at least one prison guard as humane and beset by moral dilemmas.

In 1995, the average two-bedroom rental:
The New York Times
, 28 December 1995, p. B1.

The prison’s most famous warden:
Lewis E. Lawes,
Twenty Thousand Years in Sing Sing
, p. 239.

without a place to receive:
Report of the agent of the Mount-Pleasant State Prison, relative to the government and discipline of that prison
. New York State Senate, 14 March 1834, p. 8.

The inmates and their keepers:
“Keepers,” in the terminology of the time, were the staff members in direct charge of prisoners; “guards,” usually armed, patrolled a prison’s perimeter.

As James S. Kunen has written:
“Teaching Prisoners a Lesson,”
The New Yorker
, 10 July 1995, p. 35.

In England:
Amos O. Squire, M.D.,
Sing Sing Doctor
, p. 260.

The period between:
Michel Foucault,
Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison
, pp. 7–8.

Auburn Prison, meanwhile:
“These Are Your N.Y. State Correctional Facilities: 7. Auburn Prison, Part I,” in
Correction
, a monthly publication of the New York State Department of Correction, Vol. XIV, No. VI (May 1949), pp. 7–8.

From this experiment:
Report of the agent …
p. 6.

Their first sight:
George Wilson Pierson,
Tocqueville in America
, p. 100.

they labour assiduously:
Ibid., p. 101.

All strength is born:
Ibid., p. 101.

Tocqueville and Beaumont heard a story:
Ibid., p.
99
. Also see Gustave de Beaumont and Alexis de Toqueville
[sic], On the Penitentiary System in the United States and Its Application to France
, p. 203, note.

The practical art:
Gustave de Beaumont and Alexis de Toqueville
[sic], On the Penitentiary System in the United States and Its Application to France
, p. 203.

We have seen 250 prisoners:
quoted in George Wilson Pierson,
Tocqueville in America
, pp. 101–102.

One cannot see:
Ibid., pp. 102–103.

whilst society in the United States:
Gustave de Beaumont and Alexis de Toqueville
[sic], On the Penitentiary System in the United States and Its Application to France
, p. 47.

I am completely convinced:
quoted in J. P. Mayer,
Alexis de Tocque-ville: Journey to America
, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1960, p. 25.

Two iron rings:
James R. Brice,
Secrets of the Mount-Pleasant State Prison, Revealed and Exposed: An Account of the Unjust Proceedings Against James R. Brice, Esq., by which he was convicted of the Crime of Perjury, Accompanied by Affidavits to Prove His Innocency: Also an account of the Inhuman Treatment of Prisoners by some of the Keepers; and an authentic statement of the officers and salaries, with other curious matters before unknown to the public
, p. 32.

Levi Burr, an inmate imprisoned for perjury:
Levi S. Burr,
A Voice From Sing Sing, giving a general description of the state prison, a short and comprehensive geological history of the Quality of the Stone of the Quarries; and a synopsis of the Horrid Treatment of the Convicts in That Prison
, pp. 17–18.

More than a hundred blows:
Report of the Select Committee
[to examine prisons]
of the
[New York State]
Assembly of 1851 … transmitted to the legislature, Jan. 7, 1852
, p. 26.

Bank robber Willie Sutton:
Willie Sutton, with Quentin Reynolds.
I, Willie Sutton
. New York: Farrar, Straus and Young, 1953, p. 92.

There are daily:
Levi S. Burr,
A Voice From Sing Sing, giving a general description of the state prison, a short and comprehensive geological history of the Quality of the Stone of the Quarries; and a synopsis of the Horrid Treatment of the Convicts in That Prison
, p. 44.

Several men grab a chain:
Ibid., p. 30.

A report from 1839:
These extracts of the 1839 report are reprinted in
Annual Report of the Inspectors of the Mount Pleasant State Prison
, January 6, 1848, pp. 8–11; italics original.

The local coroner:
“These Are Your N.Y. State Correctional Facilities: 7. Auburn Prison, Part II,” in
Correction
, a monthly publication of the New York State Department of Correction, Vol. XIV, No. VI (June 1949), p. 4.

His rule was never to forgive:
letter to General Aaron Ward from John W. Edmonds, “one of the inspectors of the State Prison at Sing Sing,” 1844, in SLT pamphlet volume 19, p. 7, New York Public Library.

there is evidence:
letter from Assistant Keeper Requa in SLT pamphlet volume 19, New York Public Library.

[the cat-o’-nine-tails]:
letter from Blanchard Fosgate, M.D., to
members of a legislative committee “to inquire into the financial affairs, discipline, and the general management of the different prisons,” included in
Report of the Select Committee of the
[New York State]
Assembly of 1851
, p. 74.

I think that not one man:
included in
Report of the Select Committee of the
[New York State]
assembly of 1851
, p. 225.

cut off the fingers of one hand:
Ibid., pp. 227–228.

Auburn physician Blanchard Fosgate:
Ibid., pp. 70–71.

the first social worker:
Roger Panetta, professor of history at Mary-mount College, interviewed on C-Span special, “Tocqueville Town Meeting: Penal System,” June 6, 1997.

much more depends:
John Luckey,
Life in Sing Sing State Prison
, p. 17.

A big business enterprise:
New York Herald Sunday Magazine
, 14 December 1919, p. 2.

James Brice:
James R. Brice,
Secrets of the Mount-Pleasant State Prison
, pp. 65–66.

In Buffalo in 1881:
James E. Penrose, “Inventing Electrocution,”
American Heritage of Invention and Technology
, Vol. 9, No. 4 (Spring 1994), p. 36.

Roxalana “Roxie” Druse:
The New York Times
, 28 February 1887, p. 2.

The hanging did not go well:
The New York Times
, 1 March 1887, p. 2.

Worried by the plans:
James E. Penrose, “Inventing Electrocution,” p. 40.

Public excitement:
The New York Times, 7
August 1890, p. 2, and Th. Metzger,
Blood and Volts
, pp. 151 ff.

At the following execution:
Th. Metzger,
Blood and Volts
, p. 171.

Experimentation continued:
Ibid., pp. 171–173.

the method of execution:
“These Are Your N.Y. State Correctional Facilities: 8. Sing Sing Prison, Part II,” in
Correction
, a publication of the New York State Department of Correction, Vol. XIV, No. VIII (August—September 1949), p. 16.

In New York and New Jersey:
Squire,
Sing Sing Doctor
, p. 201.

He describes Hulbert:
Ibid., pp. 201–202.

Shortly before the time:
Ibid., p. 203.

According to the 1929 obituary:
Ossining Citizen Sentinel
, 23 February 1929.

Next, he sat with the condemned:
The hand signal, given on the exhale,
was Squire’s idea—a personal refinement of methodology. “While I was chief physician … we felt it was desirable to apply the first jolt when the lungs were empty. When the current hits the body, the glottis contracts, imprisoning any air that might be in the lungs. With the breaking of the current, the chest collapses. Air escaping then would make a loud and horrible sound and cause foaming at the mouth.” (Squire, pp. 198–199.)

the only member of the prison staff:
Squire,
Sing Sing Doctor
, p. 199.

I have been so overwrought:
Ibid., p. 1.

Even though I had the respect:
Ibid., p. 200.

Each time a person is executed:
Ibid., p. 279.

When I got back home:
Ibid., p. 220.

Having confided in a friend:
Ibid., p. 221.

a historical documentary:
History Channel, “The Big House,” 24 May 1998.

Prisoners are treated:
Rudolph W. Chamberlain,
There Is No
Truce: A Life of Thomas Mott Osborne
, p. 237.

I am curious:
Thomas Mott Osborne,
Within Prison Walls
, pp. 16–17.

Still, he argued:
Ibid., p. 8.

If I were just to let myself go:
Ibid., p. 42.

Rigid discipline:
Ibid., p. 188.

I can conceive no more terribly:
Ibid., p. 136.

I should not like to be understood:
Ibid., p. 135.

necessary to wallow:
The Bridgeport
(Connecticut)
Standard
, quoted in Chamberlain,
There Is No Truce: A Life of Thomas Mott Osborne
, p. 262.

It is liberty alone:
Chamberlain,
There Is No Truce
, p. 237.

The governor himself:
Frank Tannenbaum,
Osborne of Sing Sing
, pp. 194–195.

did commit various unlawful and unnatural acts:
Westchester County grand jury indictment, excerpted in Chamberlain,
There Is No Truce: A Life of Thomas Mott Osborne
, p. 329.

Until the 1950s:
Lewis E. Lawes,
Twenty Thousand Years in Sing Sing
, pp. 109, 290.

Of all the array of incoming:
Ibid., p. 105.

There can be no democracy:
Ibid., p. 118.

It quickly became apparent:
Ibid., p. 111.

A recurrent theme was of “hard-boiled”:
The New York Times
, 21 October 1977.

For one Hearst Metrotone:
A portion of this newsreel appeared in the History Channel’s “Big House” documentary, 24 May 1998.