I Love You Always, Daddy (Repost)

I was going through old posts today and re-read this one from father’s day 4 years ago. Rarely seeing his son because no one took him resulted in his son saying, “But I don’t know him. ” Of course he doesn’t. NO ONE would take him. Only me when  could fly down to Texas from Pa. I hope when both Jamie’s meet when he gets out Of prison, when his son is 17, they can make up for lost time.


I sit and think a lot. I sit and think about how life will be when I get home, wherever that is. A lot of this has been frustrating. Father’s day was real hurtful for me. It was on a weekend. I didn’t hear from or see Megan with Jamie, or from anyone else, either. I was hoping that since it was a weekend that she’d bring my son. Oh well, it wasn’t a surprise to me. And now Jamie just had his birthday. 8 years old. It hurts like hell that I didn’t get to see him on his birthday. I’m having something made for him. I spent everything I had left to get it done. It’s still not finished. Would you call him please and tell him I did not forget him? Tell him I love him and happy birthday. I wrote him a letter would you send it to him? I sold my food to get a stamp to send this letter to you.

1005132553

(Jamie’s letter) Guess who? Yes it’s me, Daddy. First I want to say I’m sorry this is so late. I have never forgotten about you. Not did I forget about your birthday. I’m getting something made for you. You will like it when you see it. I love you Jamie. I will always love you.

So happy birthday from a father to his son. I will always love you no matter what. Life is hard but we’re blessed to have it. We’re blessed to have each other. Strong faith will always keep us together. Even if I’m not home, believe, my love is so strong!! No one can break our chain of love we have for each other and that I have for you. I know it hurts, me not being home, but know that I think about you all the time. I didn’t forget your birthday and never will.

What did you do for your birthday? I hope you had lots of fun!! If I was there we would have lots of stuff to do together. Movies, swimming, basketball, football, fishing. Lots of stuff. I couldn’t be there with you because of a poor choice I made a long time ago and I’m sorry. Making a poor choice will hurt your life, son. So be sure to live life in a positive way. Stay away from trouble, drugs and stupidity. Nobody means you any good if they are trying to get you to do wrong. Stay in school and pay good attention. Work hard for what you want. I did not do that and that is why I’m in jail. Listen to me son, nothing is worse than having your freedom taken away. Please stay away from trouble. Pay close attention to your education.

I love you always, Daddy

photo-61

I sit and think a lot. I sit and think about how life will be when I get home, wherever that is. A lot of this has been frustrating. Father’s day was real hurtful for me. It was on a weekend. I didn’t hear from or see Megan with Jamie, or from anyone else, either. I was hoping that since it was a weekend that she’d bring my son. Oh well, it wasn’t a surprise to me. And now Jamie just had his birthday. 8 years old. It hurts like hell that I didn’t get to see him on his birthday. I’m having something made for him. I spent everything I had left to get it done. It’s still not finished. Would you call him please and tell him I did not forget him? Tell him I love him and happy birthday. I wrote him a letter would you send it to him? I sold my food to get a stamp to send this letter to you.

1005132553

(Jamie’s letter) Guess who? Yes it’s me, Daddy. First I want to say I’m sorry this is so late. I have never forgotten about you. Not did I forget about your birthday. I’m getting something made for you. You will like it when you see it. I love you Jamie. I will always love you.

So happy birthday from a father to his son. I will always love you no matter what. Life is hard but we’re blessed to have it. We’re blessed to have each other. Strong faith will always keep us together. Even if I’m not home, believe, my love is so strong!! No one can break our chain of love we have for each other and that I have for you. I know it hurts, me not being home, but know that I think about you all the time. I didn’t forget your birthday and never will.

What did you do for your birthday? I hope you had lots of fun!! If I was there we would have lots of stuff to do together. Movies, swimming, basketball, football, fishing. Lots of stuff. I couldn’t be there with you because of a poor choice I made a long time ago and I’m sorry. Making a poor choice will hurt your life, son. So be sure to live life in a positive way. Stay away from trouble, drugs and stupidity. Nobody means you any good if they are trying to get you to do wrong. Stay in school and pay good attention. Work hard for what you want. I did not do that and that is why I’m in jail. Listen to me son, nothing is worse than having your freedom taken away. Please stay away from trouble. Pay close attention to your education.

I love you always, Daddy

itfo newsletter

,

IMG_20180324_211754_745) l

 

Twitter  @sonni-quick

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison    

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

 

 

Picking Up Broken Pieces – chapter/vid Inside The Forbidden Outside

 

Picking Up broken Pieces

“My summer is all about sweating. Endless sweating. It’s 103° today and there is no AC,” Jamie began writing in a letter to Sonni.
     “It doesn’t matter if I’m playing Chess, Scrabble or watching TV,” he wrote. “I sweat. I’ll sweat off a few pounds by the end of the summer. lol.”
     “I wish I were home so I could enjoy the summer with the kids.” That thought made Jamie stop writing and follow his imagination.

Putting his pen down, he stared into the universe inside his head where the kids were playing and he was there enjoying it with them. Throwing a ball to his son, he imagined he clapped when the child picked himself up and came running willy nilly into daddy’s arms. Jamie picked him up and swung him around in the air, both of them laughing. Reality came crashing down.
     Missing this time was one of life’s cruelest jokes. His son will never be a young child again. He won’t ever experience the good times of childhood, between father and son, when they could be together.

There will be no memories of him in his son’s mind when he thinks of his growing up years. His father was never there to celebrate a birthday. No! It was everything. His father wasn’t there taking part in any aspect of his life at any time. He wouldn’t know if he loved his father or not. There was no part of him in his life.
     He remembered his happiness when he learned he was going to be a father. Another of life’s painful jokes was knowing he didn’t have the job skills to support them. You can’t feed a family with love alone. He had been out of juvenile detention for less than a year. He didn’t know what to do to get his life going. He had no one to teach him the direction he needed to go to make the right choices.
     He spent his time hanging out with friends who also had no idea what to do with their lives. He always thought he would have found a way to make it work but he didn’t have a chance. Life took over and set his fate in motion. It was no longer in his control. All of his choices were now made for him.

He could always find a way into his own little world to escape for awhile. Thinking with his eyes closed slowly put a smile on his face. Did the kids think about him sometimes, too, or were they forgetting all about him by now? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t ever forget about them.
     “I dream about walking open-arm to Morgan and the kids and gathering them into a big hug,” he wrote after he picked up his pen again. “But they will all be grown up by then, and I won’t be able to pick up my son and swing him around.” Would his son even accept him after all this time? Would he be angry?
     Jamie knew how it felt having an absent father. There was always a hole inside. He couldn’t even fill it with a face because he didn’t know what he looked like. How do you love someone who isn’t there? How can his son love him?
     There was a man who recently wrote to him and said he was his father. How was he supposed to take that? He wasn’t entirely sure that this was his father. His mama never talked about him, so where did he come from? Where was he?
     “I think my father just got home from a place like this. Never once in my life did he write to see how I was. No explanation. What was I supposed to think?” He continued writing.
     “He wrote to my mom, I was told, but he never asked about me. Now he’s home and it’s the same way I guess. I did finally get one letter from him asking me to give him a second chance to be a dad.” This next thought was hard for Jamie.
     “So I told him okay and asked for one thing from him. Give the love to his grandson that he didn’t give to me. I never heard from him again. Why did he even ask?”
     Jamie stopped and thought about that for awhile before he continued writing. Why would his father not want to know him?  How could he not want to know he was okay? He began writing again, “I understand what you said in your letter about prisoners not writing and how it ends up hurting their children. Please don’t put me in that category. I would give anything to be a father to my son. Sometimes my head is in a bad place. It is hard because I know how it feels. Jamie is too young to know if I write. But that doesn’t mean that me not being there isn’t hurting him. He needs to now he has a father and he is loved. It pains me deeply. I would do anything if I could fix this, but I can’t”
     Pretending to be with his family gave him a fleeting moment of happiness, followed by feeling the pain of his heart ripping in two. Sometimes it crippled him.
     “No one I love wants nothing to do with me. Out of sight, out of mind,” he wrote unhappily as he went back and forth between love for his family and feeling rejected by them. He couldn’t think of what he did to cause them to be that way. Was it his fault?  If it was he didn’t know what to do to fix that, either. And he sure couldn’t fix it from in  here.”
     “I really needed somebody to talk to about it,” He wrote. “I can’t keep it straight in my head.”  Being able to pour out his feelings on paper helped him make sense of it.
     Every day Jamie sat and stared at the wall, thinking about his sentence and felt like giving up in every way, but he couldn’t. His son was important and that thought is what kept him glued together.
     “I’m sorry, mom. I have to go.” His brain felt pulled in every direction. “My head really hurts pretty bad right now. ” He put his pen down and rested his forehead in his cupped palms, elbows on the steel desk. He gently rubbed his temples with his thumbs, pretending they belonged to someone who cared about how hard this was and knew how much pain he was in. He wanted comfort; someone who would make it all go away, even for a little while.
     “I love you, mom. I know you care. Thank you for your love and understanding. Everyone needs someone to talk to now and then. God bless you. God bless you.”

<<< >>>

Jamie broke down and wrote to his family again because he needed a little help. He needed a fan. It would help dry the sweat that soaked his body.  The effort of breathing made him sweat.  

     It wasn’t unusual for at least a few men men to die in here each year because of the heat, especially the older ones who were sick with something. Even he, as young as he was, passed out a few times from heat stroke when his body overheated. He doubted they would do anything about it. Paying someone’s family off if they tried to sue the prison was cheaper than putting AC into an old prison. Oh well, they probably think, someone died. Who cares. There is  more where they came from. A lot of the inmates didn’t have any family who cared if they died.

     He didn’t have money in his account to buy stamps so he was considered to be indigent. He could send letters and they would be mailed, but the mail room would keep track of that money. When money was put on his books they would take it back. He owed them for ten stamps already.
     Jamie asked if someone could please send him $22 to buy a fan but he didn’t get a letter back. Maybe they would have the time to write to him next week. He had a lot of reasons in his head why a letter didn’t come. Most of all he didn’t want to believe it wouldn’t come.
     He had no choice. He asked Sonni and she sent the money to be deposited into his account. Maybe it was pride. When he asked her he apologized up and down. What else could he do? He didn’t want her to think he was using her.
     Worrying most about his mom he still wanted to know if she was okay. She didn’t have to send no money if it was hard for her. He loved his mom and just wanted to hear from her. Maybe she was busy and didn’t have time. That was the justification he used.

<<< >>>

It would soon be little Jamie’s third birthday. He sent a letter inside a birthday card asking to please tell him happy birthday for him but he hadn’t heard back. Three years old already. Birthdays were hard for him. It drove home even harder how much he was missing. How many would pass by before would share one with him. 

     Jamie did what did every day. He sat on his bunk and stared at the wall, praying to make it through the day so could cross it off and begin the next one.

     Sonni waited for these letters from Jamie to know he was doing okay. She couldn’t do anything to help him besides be there for him and answer his letters. Encourage him and let him know he wasn’t forgotten.  Prisons scared her. She was afraid to call if he needed her to, but she did. It was out of her comfort zone. When she called the warden or medical unit she afraid of saying  wrong thing. She was just beginning to learn what the prison system was about and it wasn’t what most people thought.
     Jamie poured everything he was feeling into his letters. She had no previous understanding about life in prison except what was shown in movies and TV shows. She didn’t know anyone who did time in prison when she starting writing to him.  Going through these hard times with him was the first time she understood the devastating toll it took on the lives of those inside. Some were very dangerous people, but she knew many of them were badly treated by people far worse than the ones who were locked up. She was not going to the same thing others had and stop writing. She would not let him suffer with no way to release it.

Maybe this was the reason that brought them together. Everything happens for a reason. That is the law off cause and effect.

 

 

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

 

Twitter  @sonni-quick

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison   

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

Sonni Quick Piano Improv – my YouTube channel

CIRCLES INSIDE CIRCLES – Chapter Rewrite

Last Note 2 sm

 

Jamie was trying. He couldn’t try any harder. He wanted to understand how he could turn his life around and make it through these years in one piece. If he didn’t, the years would be wasted and he’d be a mess when he got out. He couldn’t afford that. He had to make up for a lot of lost time.
     This is what happened when you felt you had endless time on your hands. It was hard to fill the empty spaces. Jamie sat on his bed. He stared at the wall and lost track of time. It had no meaning. He spaced out thinking about his life and what he could have done different. Sometimes he got tired of trying and wanted to melt into the wall and disappear.
    How was anyone supposed to live in conditions like this, then get out and have an okay life? How could he get over it as though it never happened and go on and be happy? It was hard to remember what that was.
      Jamie never had a real chance to find out what he was good at. He wasn’t blaming anyone, the right circumstances were never there. No one taught him how to make something of himself. He just followed along with whatever happened at the moment. He didn’t know how to have a dream and make something of it. He needed to figure out how to do that. All he knew for sure was what he believed in didn’t seem to have the power to get him where he wanted to go.
     Maybe he needed to deepen his faith in God. Study more. Quite a few of the inmates also went to church. There were quite a few screwed up people who found religion after they were sentenced, and some went to church because it was something to do that got you out of your cell. Jamie really wanted to make it work but how were you supposed to know if it was making a difference in his life because nothing had changed for the better.
     He had the bible studies he sent for and was trying to study on his own. He hoped it would help. He had a lot of time to think about what he read. Still, it made no difference. He wasn’t giving up, but what could he do that would actually change things into a better direction instead of going in a circle that only went round and round? He wanted to learn something that would give him hope he was doing the right thing.

<<<>>>

Later that night, getting up for a drink, he fell and twisted his knee. It was swollen and hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. It got worse when he tried to stand up the next morning and put his weight on it. It was so swollen he could hardly bend it. He put in for a medical call. A guard had to come get him with a wheelchair because there was no way he would be able to walk there.
    “What did you do?” the nurse asked after the guard helped him up onto the examining table.
     “Damn that hurts,” slipped out of Jamie’s mouth before he could stop it. He didn’t like to cuss around women.
     “I slipped on the carpeting,” he joked and tried to laugh.
     “No, really, my knee buckled. I went down and landed hard on the side of my knee and it twisted.” Jamie winced as he attempted to change position.
     “I’ve had problems with this knee before,” he told her.
     “I’ll have x- ray take a picture,” she concluded. “Make sure it isn’t fractured.
     The nurse pressed gently on different parts of the knee. “This feels like fluid, “she commented, “not just swelling from the damage caused by twisting it.”
     “Can the doctor do something? Could it be drained?” Jamie thought it would make his knee feel better if they were able to get the swelling down. Right now he could only bend it a couple inches.
       “No.” It only took a second for the nurse to answer.        “The doctor won’t do it. The Medical Unit would never okay that kind of procedure.”
     The nurse stopped for a few seconds and thought carefully. “They’ll say it’s not medically necessary,” she finished saying, almost under her breath.
     She saw inmates all day long who had medical conditions that needed treatment, and she knew they would never receive it, or would get the barest minimum care. She’d placate them making them think something would be done. Chronic illnesses with simple, effective treatments that could make their lives easier to bear would most likely be denied. Conditions got worse that didn’t need to. Inmates paid precious dollars out of their accounts to be seen by a doctor and were usually given the runaround. They would receive token or incorrect treatments and blood tests might even be taken, but getting the right diagnoses and proper medication were much more difficult to get. This wasn’t the reason she became a nurse.
     Inmates coming into the prison with a known condition who had a history of medication had a better chance of receiving it, but if other conditions developed there was a good chance it wouldn’t be addressed. She did what she could.
     “Every day, try to work the knee by sitting on the edge of your bed and straightening your leg up and out and hold for a few seconds,” she instructed. “Then lower it down slowly.”
    “Its a simple exercise but it will help keep your knee muscles from locking up.”
     This was the reality of medical care in prisons and they got away with it. It didn’t matter what treatment would be best for him. It mattered what the medical corporation could provide without it costing them.
     The lack of quality care caused damage to those inside. Pain and suffering, mental and physical were common and it sometimes caused death. It was inhumane. Fluid on Jamie’s knee wouldn’t kill him, but it was painful moving around or standing, and would take a good while to healy itself.
     So why did they take an x-ray if they wouldn’t treat the problem? So they could show they provided “adequate care.” That was the law. The prisons had to provide care but they were never told what adequate care was, so they could do anything and say they treated him.
     The nurse would tell him to drink more water and take Tylenol and say in his file it was adequate medical care for anything that was wrong. It was the standard treatment for what he needed so it was a waste of money for most inmates to call and ask to go to the medical unit. If an inmate had the flu or anything catchy, the whole prison would get sick.
     Jamie was tired of being treated as though he didn’t matter, but what could he do about it? He did the best he could to win over his negative thoughts. Sometimes it wasn’t possible. He absolutely did the best he could, he thought to himself. He tried to keep the stress under control. Seizures were going to happen when they screwed up his medication or said he forgot to tell them to reorder it like that was his job. Sometimes seizures hit fast and he falls and gets banged up. Sometimes he falls off the bunk from thrashing about in his sleep.
     He laid down on his side and brought his knees up to his chest. He felt less vulnerable and alone inside his circle of comfort.

<<<>>>

Day after day routines never changed. It was hard to remember what day it was. One of the hardest things about being in prison is the boredom. There wasn’t enough to do. Nothing new was added to think about, so his mind goes through the same circles of memory over and over again.
       Jamie was trying so hard to not let anything get to him where he would lash out in anger. He was feeling confident he had that under control. But if he couldn’t get out of his cell sometimes he knew he would go crazy.
     He needed to keep his privileges. He was feeling irritated today and he knew it, so he had to work harder to stay in control. It wouldn’t take much, so he stayed by himself.

  Writing letters that were never answered was frustrating. It was a waste of precious stamps. He wrote because he thought family would want to know how he was doing, but he seldom got a letter back about how they were doing. He felt forgotten by everyone. There were probably new kids in the family he didn’t even know about. Children of cousins who probably didn’t have any idea about who he was. He was an outsider now. Not a happy thought.
     It had been almost three months since a letter came from anyone besides Sonni. She became his family so he usually called her Mom. She said he was like a son. She called him that because she said he needed family.
     Going to the day room was a good way to pass the time. He tried to enjoy it as best he could. Watching TV let him pretend he wasn’t here. It usually kept his mind off things for a short while. It worked sometimes and sometimes it didn’t. Time wasn’t exactly flying.
     It was summer, 2009, three and a half years since he was arrested. He was getting close to being one fourth through his sentence.
     Jamie decided to write to Sonni. She often asked him questions about what it was like in here. He opened his locker and took out a couple pieces of paper and sat down at the steel table that was connected to the toilet. He began drawing lines from top to bottom to look like lined tablet paper. It consumed a little more time. 
     “Rec hours rotate,” he began writing. “We get four hours all total. Two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening between the hours of 6 -10 AM and 12- 4 PM. After that I’m in my cell the rest of the day.”
     He went on to explain that his custody level was G4 line 3. If he caught another case he would go down to G5 which was also adseg. He was almost to the point of being in 24 hour lockdown for a year if he didn’t cool it and control his anger. It was so hard to not get pissed off asst the things that went on in here, inmates and guards. But if he wanted to work his way back to population he needed to be G2 so he had to stay good with no new cases for seven more months.
     “There’s a lot more stuff I can do in population, like go to school and take trades,” he wrote. “I could also go to the library and have contact visits instead of visiting behind glass.” 
     Another reason he was trying hard to not get anymore write-ups was he wanted to apply for a hardship classification. Then he could ask to be moved closer to home because of a medical reason or a close family member who was sick.
     There was no reason for them to put him a prison that was a thousand miles away from home. He thought he was sent to West Texas as a way to punish him more by separating him from his family. But he would need their help to make it happen and that didn’t seem likely, at least not right now.
     It would be too easy to let depression take over if he thought too much about the free world and the things he’d like to see happen that were unlikely to happen. He needed to think of how to get through his time and not think about everything else he couldn’t change. He couldn’t even have a conversation with anyone to move it along.
     Jamie closed his eyes. Maybe he could go to sleep now so he didn’t have to think about any of this. He put his paper and pen aside until later. In a few minutes, as he felt himself drift off he heard, “James Cummings, mail.”

 

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

 

Twitter  @sonni-quick

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison   

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

How You Can Help Me Support Jamie

tote bag with Jamie's picture

I have a preview of what will soon be available for purchase very soon. It will be going out for sale in my next ITFO News. It will also be available for purchase here at the blog as well as the facebook page : jamielifeinprison.

I’m trying to put a stop to the what the prison continually does concerning Jamie’s medical care for epilepsy as well as other medical issues. They withhold his medication for days at a time, which causes a rise in seizures. As I have been rereading all of his letters to me while writing his book I realized it happened more often than I remembered as he wrote about it over the years. This is only one example of the inhumanity he has dealt with. I am going through legal channels giving me medical power of attorney, plus othe paperwork to be filled in Huntsville, Tx at the tdcj. Texas Department of Criminal Justice.

White t- shirt proof

I need to raise money to do this and to try to get him out of adesg while there is still time to get his GED and perhaps other training. Keeping him in adseg means they don’t have to provide any type of education. I am on disability. My money is limited. I’m determined when my book and soundtrack is published I will be able to market it successfully. In the meantime, Paying his yearly medical fee, quarterly food boxes, enough money to buy stamps,  hygiene, and other food items, and send books and magazines stretches my dollars to the breaking point.

These two items are what I am initially selling. A white t- shirt with his silhouette and a tote bag. I hope to add a greater selection of colors. When the book is ready I’ll be adding more items with the book cover on it. I’ll be putting our another post with all the details after I set up a paypal account. You will also have the option of donating to a fund. When he is released he needs to be able to start a life that has been denied him since 10th grade. He has no idea how to take care of day to day living. This is one of the main reasons why a high percentage of inmates return to prison. They get out with a bulls eye on their back unable to live what see call, a “normal” life.

So many of you have been so supportive and encouraging over the years. It always surprised Jamie how many people cared. When I told him about the T-shirt he said he didn’t think there was enough people who would want one. He has no concept of all the messages I get asking how he is.

So think about it. If you can help by purchasing know that it is going to a worthy place. If you haven’t yet – don’t forget to subscribe to ITFO News and keep up with what is happening, not only with Jamie and the book, “Inside The Forbidden Outside,” but other inmates and news as well.

Let me know what you think – and many thanks.

 

 itfo newsletter

  SUBSCRIBE

I Will Not Let Them Break Me

 

wh jamie2I’d like to bring you up to date with the writing of my book, Inside the Forbidden Outside, because I sure have been writing it for a long time. It should be 500 pages by now!

I have read ads that say ” Write a book from start to finish in 30 days!” Really? I guess you could if you had a vivid imagination creating stories, edited it yourself and did no rewriting. But I am not creating this story out of thin air and the writing has taken time because the story is important and I really knew nothing about being a writer, except for blog posts.

My first draft, and those chapters can be read going back I the archives to 2016, was like a book of blog posts. The chapters didn’t connect as a story. So I went back to the drawing board and started over while talking a couple writing courses.

Writing the music for the chapters, poetry, and music videos is also very time consuming so it all goes forward at a slower pace. The music was written because of the letters I read from him. They were often sad and melancholy. The music is the emotion just like music sets the stage for movies to create an emotion.

I wanted to tell you what I’m doing now to bring authenticity to what T am doing. The first two years he was inside we didn’t write. I only heard what was happening through my daughter. That is why I sent the first card.  He told me about his life until that point. I had to take actual events and create story around it. In the narrative I reached the point where we are writing. After reading his letters I felt I had to write his story.  Not because it was happening to him, but because it is a common story shared by many. America still isn’t listening and many believe the propaganda they read in the news saying black people are bent to be criminals and they need to locked up.  They don’t belong in restaurants, coffee shops, on the street, the mall or in any store among “us”, the white people. Call the cops. Have them arrested. They don’t deserve to breathe “our” air. Go away. Shame on any American who believes that. Unfortunately, the number of people like this outnumber the people who are actually human and don’t feel entitled because of the color of our skin.

I recently unpacked two boxes that hold hundreds of letters Jamie wrote me began sorting them by the prison and then putting them in date order. Most of my letters to him are online at a website called Jpay. But many early letters we’re handwritten so I have no record of those. As time went on I almost always used Jpay because many handwriting can get illegible when I write fast.

I have just spent 28 hours over two days reading every letter he wrote, and mine in between and pieced the narrative together. The story that emerged with the dialogue already written made me cry. The pain of coping in such an inhumane existence with the authority of the prisons dishing out, with pleasure, anything they wanted to ensure the prisoners know their lives are meaningless. Their only value is to enough various corporations who use them for profit, much the way plantations did for 400 years. Free labor on top of everything.  Of course they want the prisons to be full. Jamie did not deserve what they have done to him, and continue to do, but of course, he is black so it doesn’t matter.

Countless times over the years they have denied Jamie his seizure medication for epilepsy. They also often deny him being able to see a doctor, unless he is bleeding from falling and cutting himself when he has a seizure. So often the medical unit would lie to me about what condition he is in.

Think about this – Allred prison has approximately 3500 inmates. Let’s say half of them take one pill of a prescription each day.  That is an extremely low estimate. Now, lets say that each of those inmates were skipped one day a month and not given one pill.  That equals 1750 pills. What is the financial value to the medical corporation by holding back one pill each month? Since pills are often given in multiples twice a day and inmates often take more than one medicine, what is the real number? Jamie is often skipped for days at a time, not one pill on one day. So he has more epileptic seizures they rarely monitor. And yet people get sarcastic online quipping about the wonderful free medical care inmates get which is better than what they get. Propaganda can be very powerful in forming your indignant opinions for you. Anyone want to sign up for prison healthcare?

But he is a fighter, pulling himself out of depression when he hits rock bottom over and over again. The last time, in March when he was denied – again – being let out of adseg, he was told he wasn’t ready. Ready in what way? They didn’t manage to break him yet? Over three years, this time, and they said he wasn’t ready. He went into depression again, but fought back with a vengeance. “I will not let them break me!”

I have now everything I need to finish writing, with notes from every letter. This is the story of man who was intentionally fed to the system, while they have done everything they could to render him unable to survive.

He entered the system a Christian because it was all he knew. He then tried becoming a Muslim, a tight-knit community inside that teaches peace and discipline. No, it isn’t the picture our media and government portrays that to be Muslim means you are a terrorist. He reached the point where he said. “Religion has done nothing to help me in here. No amount of praying to God or having faith that things will get better has helped anything get better.” He thought his faith should have some effect, and it didn’t.

It was then, when he was of options that I began teaching him the philosophy of Nichiren Buddhism. It put the responsibility of his life and understanding it squarely where it belonged. In his own hands and mind. This is where he got the strength to say, “They will not break me.” He wasn’t asking anything outside himself to fix his problems. He took responsibility.

This is a story of a man who is making his way through this system and growing as an individual instead of feeling he is a victim. I hope you continue to read about the progress of writing this and listen to the music I’ve recorded to be his soundtrack. Subscribe to ITFO News to not miss anything.

Last, I am having T- shirts made with the silhouette at the top of the post and his signature beneath. I need to raise money to help him. I have been using legal measures to fight some of what they are doing and those things are being put in place right now. Legal documents cost money.  Attorney consultations cost money. Enforcing those documents cost even more. But every bit of medical care they deny him puts more money in their pocket.

I’m hoping that people who know his story will want to help if they can. This is my first time of asking for help and I am the only one who supports him. In the next few weeks when the t-shirts come in I will write again. Thanks for reading. I couldn’t do this without you and the encouragement you’ve given me.

 

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

 

Twitter  @sonni-quick

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison   

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

Sonni Quick Piano Improv – my YouTube channel

How Do I Find My Way – ITFO Chapter

Last Note 2 sm

 How Do I Find My Way

Later: that afternoon, after Jamie got back from the showers, he sat on the edge of his bunk and opened his locker. He took out a stack of letters he had saved. They had been read so many times the creases from folding and unfolding were getting weak.
      These letters were all he had to connect him to the free world. Other inmates knew when you got letters and knew you had someone on the outside. Many men had no one, especially those who had been locked up for a long time.
      Family or friends who wrote when you were first locked up often slowly stopped writing. Maybe they ran out of things to say or got tired of writing. Life went on for them but it stopped for those inside.
      One sure fire way to stop them from writing was to ask if they could send money. No one wanted to support someone inside. Many didn’t have the money. Jamie knew Morgan could barely made enough to take care of the children. She couldn’t support him. But there was no way to get any of the things he needed unless he asked for help. The prison didn’t provide things like deodorant and other hygiene products, stamps, paper or envelopes. He’d like to be able to get some food items and maybe a radio but the other items had to come first.
      If there was no one to put money on your books for commissary you had to find another way to trade for what you needed. That could get you into a lot of trouble if you got caught. If inmates could get paid for work they did they would have a little money to to spend at the commissary. He didn’t mean housekeeping or laundry jobs, but the jobs where they made things for corporations to sell. Inmates didn’t get paid for those jobs, either.
      Texas prisons didn’t pay anyone for working although most states did. Even though the pay might only be twenty cents an hour they could still accumulate twenty to thirty dollars in a month. Texas said they give time off your sentence for good behavior but they always find a way to take it away from you.
      Jamie rarely heard from anyone in his family, although he did in the beginning. He made himself believe they were busy and he would get a letter soon. But that day rarely arrived and it was hard to deal with it sometimes. If he didn’t have Sonni’s letters he didn’t know if he would make it through with his sanity in one piece.
      Every day he listened at mail call to hear if his name was called. What if she stopped writing? She said she would always write but he was still afraid her last letter might really be her last letter.
      Finally, Jamie got up the courage to ask her if she could send a little money. He told her over and over it was okay if she couldn’t. He didn’t want her to think he was using her for money. It was hard waiting to get a letter back after that one. He was afraid he had blown it and she would be upset.
      She wasn’t. She wrote back and asked him how to send it. He sent her a slip to fill out and told her to send it back with a money order. Jamie was relieved.
    Letters from Morgan came with longer silences in between. She finally wrote and told him there was a new man in her life. He wasn’t happy about it. In fact, it ripped him up, but he knew she needed to go on with her life. He couldn’t blame her for that, but it also meant he would learn less and less about his son. Sonni helped fill in the gaps but it was never enough.
      That did not mean he expected someone else should take care of his family. Sitting in here year after year was pointless when he should be home talking care of them himself. It was hard for Morgan to take care of three kids by herself.
      He didn’t know what to do to make things better for her. He wanted to help but there was nothing he could do. He felt like was letting all of them down. He should be able to do something, but he couldn’t.
      Jamie carefully arranged his letters in piles by who wrote them and the date, the oldest ones on the bottom. This way he could read everything in order from each person. There were not many piles. He passed the rest of the afternoon by reading letters.

As he read he realized his day today could have ended up a whole lot different than it did. He had a short fuse. He knew that. He had no patience with people who had the authority to mistreat people just because they were locked up and they felt like it. Inmates could not fight back. If they argued because of being mistreated they paid a price for it.
      During the shower when the guard cut off the water, if Jamie hadn’t stopped himself from reacting in anger, the guard could have written up a case on him. It could have taken a couple years or more to turn that around. He was supposed to take the abuse because he was the inmate and had no rights, at least none they would let him use.
      From the time he was seventeen and spent four years in juvenile detention, being lied to over and over, he learned to have no patience with guards and staff who treated people with disrespect.

    Jamie pushed those thoughts out of his head and opened a letter from Sonni. Even though he had read her letters over and over, sometimes a sentence jumped out that made sense in a way he didn’t catch before.
   “Don’t believe something is the truth just because someone told you it was the truth.” That made sense, but what truth was she talking about?
      “It’s easy to believe something when you’ve been told the same thing over and over, but that doesn’t mean it is true.” She must have been answering something he had written to her in his letter. What was it? He could not remember.
   “Everything in your life happens for a reason. Something caused it. Things do not happen out of the blue just because you can’t figure out what you did to cause it.” All of this made sense but he had never thought about it like this.
      No one had ever talked to Jamie about why things happened in his life. He handled things in his day as they happened. He knew he needed to have more self control over his anger because he learned it could mess up his day.
     Jamie never thought much about these things up until now because he was always busy trying to dig himself out from under some problem. He didn’t always think about why it happened.
      The main problem was he didn’t think about what caused his problems until it was too late. What was done was done. It was hard to wrap his head around figuring out why it happened.

Sometimes one thing led to another and that made something else happen. He could see it looking back but he couldn’t see it looking ahead. But it made sense if he made different decisions it would cause different outcomes. But how was he supposed know what to decide in a split second when there was no time to think about how it might work out?
      Sonni’s letters made him think about things he never thought about. He didn’t know to think about his life in a deeper way. He was told God oversaw everything and he tried to pray for the right thing to happen. He could plan and change things in anyone’s life if he wanted to. He could bless people with good things. His family was not the type who went to church every week or anything like that, but he assumed everyone believed in God and would go to heaven.
      He always began or ended a letter hoping the receiver would be blessed or that he had been blessed. He didn’t think about what he was writing. It was automatic thing he wrote in his letters.
     If everything happened for a reason, then what could he do to change all of this for himself so he could go home? How could he know what to do?
      Jamie repeated this over and over in his head. It was like one big giant puzzle. It was starting to make his head hurt. All along did he deserve to be in here? From the time he was born it was God’s plan? Did God plan some things but not all things. That didn’t make sense so he didn’t think so.
      Did he have a choice or was he supposed to end up in prison no matter what he did? He was told God gave people free will. What happened if that messed up His plan. Did He have to make a new one – for everyone? He was expected to believe things that didn’t make much sense. But that was faith, right? He believed because it was all he knew.
      Having so much time to think about this yet have no one to talk to is difficult. Jamie was brought up to believe in God and you were supposed to pray to him when life got rough. Did God want his life to be this way? This was too many questions.
      You reap what you sow. That phrase was in the Bible, but he never really thought about it. Growing up they weren’t really a Bible reading family. The pastor here said he should trust God to take care of everything. These two ideas were so opposite from each other.
      Jamie went to church every week. He was trying to do the right thing. He wanted to hear the message. Did it change anything? He believed in God because it was what he was told to believe by people who were smarter than him. He didn’t think to question it.
      Going to church didn’t change anything in his life. The prison chaplain pushed it on the men. In reality, this man wasn’t very nice to those who said they didn’t believe and didn’t want go to church. That seemed hypocritical to him.
      So why did he believe in God? What did that belief do for him that made his life better? What prayers did God answer that he could say for sure happened because God made it happen? Growing up, hearing God made the world, and when we die we go to heaven is a pretty powerful reason to want to believe. If everyone learned the same thing it was easy to go along with it. No one had any different ideas. Believe, or not believe, was pretty much it.
      Where would he be if he wasn’t in prison? Jamie would like to believe he would be home taking care of his family. He would have a job, but he didn’t have any idea what that would be or what he was qualified for. He did have a job for a while. He worked for a cleaning company that cleaned offices and schools. One day cleaning supplies came up missing. He got blamed and was fired. He didn’t do it, but that didn’t matter. They had someone to blame. Why would he risk his job by stealing cleaning supplies? No one thought about that.

     He went to church every Sunday. He even sent off for Bible studies. He didn’t go to church just to get of his cell. He wanted to hear the message. He was searching for answers, trying hard to figure things out. He wanted to make sense of things, but somehow it wasn’t working.
      Not knowing what was going on at home was getting to him. Day after day he waited and prayed a letter would come, and it rarely did. But then, just when he was ready to give up, he would hear the mail person call his name. A letter would come, his mind was eased, and he would feel better for a while. The emotional seesaw took its toll.
      Soon the cycle would start again and his anxiety would slowly build until he couldn’t sleep. Weeks and months went by. The hardest part about this was not knowing what was happening.. Why was he kept in the dark? His mom said some things at her last visit about maybe being sick but she didn’t exactly say what was wrong, or if anything definite was wrong. He had no way to find out.
      Jamie was scared to death something was going to happen to his mom. He didn’t think he could handle that in here. His mind was thinking crazy thoughts. He couldn’t think straight.
      On top of that he was worried about his own family. It was all his own fault. He wasn’t doing so good. This was all because he wasn’t around. No one thought he needed to know anything. So he sat and stressed every day and could not stop himself. He wrote this letter to Sonni:

<<< >>>

Hello Mom, 8/20/09

First I want to thank you for the love and support you’ve given me even though you didn’t have to. I’m real thankful for it. Well, I’ll get to the point of what I’m saying. It’s rough when I sit here waiting for mail and I don’t get any from nobody but you. So I’ve made up my mind to just do this time and put everything else behind me. This way I won’t have to stress myself out. I’m not giving up on my family. I just have to do this because I’m hurting myself. I know something is wrong. I can feel it.
I’m not saying I’m going to go off and get in trouble. I’m going to end my letter here. But before I do I want you to know I’m still going to keep my promise and stay out of trouble. And thank you for the book, mom. It was good.

Love, Jamie.

<<< >>>

Living in silence was hard for Jamie. He couldn’t deal with it. It made no sense. When it became too much for him he lashed out. Depression surfaced easily. Maybe his family thought if he didn’t know what was going on he wouldn’t worry. It was just the opposite. He did worry, because he didn’t know. Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t. He wrote many letters hoping he would get an answer back but no one wrote. Sonni’s letters were all he had to lean on. They were his lifeline. She promised she wouldn’t disappear.

<<< >>>

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

 

Twitter  @sonni-quick

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison   

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

.

 

Why Are They Still in Prison?

http://www.nightslantern.ca/2018bulletin.htm#may10 Gerald and Maas nightslantern.ca Why are They Still in Prison? by J. B. Gerald On April 27th, 2018 Herman Bell went home to his friends and family. Eligible for parole after 25 years he served 45 years, as a model prisoner. His 8th application for parole was granted by the New York State […]

( This video and photo below is not part of This article. I urge you to watch it for better understanding.

799740.0.0

This article is well worth reading. It is important to understand what our justice system does to people, blacks and minorities who challenge their equality. We continue to incarcerate political prisoners for life, denying new trials even in the face of evidence proving innocence, and even when they are close to death. They are often incarcerated because they threaten the understanding, the need, for America to be superior in its whiteness. The value of a human being is determined by their skin color. 

A few of these men I have followed up on why they are incarcerated. In many cases there is doubt even of guilt but still they were prosecuted even with a lack of evidence. They are black. They must be guilty. They are forever too dangerous to be given freedom, even if critically ill. Mumia Abu-Jaal is one of these prisoners. He is a journalist and was reporting on corruption in the police force. He was framed for the murder of a police officer. He was guilty, just like today black people are assumed to be criminals and all are guilty. Black Partners fought for their freedom and the right to live against an army of a white country determined to not let that happen. Those who joined in that fight are hunted down and eliminated by incarceration.

Incarcerating the leaders was supposed to shut these radical Black citizens down. It is why Black Lives Matter was also demonized because they wanted to stop being killed for being Black. No mate your skin color, wouldn’t you fight to live if your race was being gunned down and rarely the murderer was held responsible?

What does keeping these men locked up accomplish? Is the government afraid people will come together and support them because of what the criminal justice system did to destroy them by hiding them away? This has got to end.

I’m not going to say anything else. Read it. Tell me what you think.

via J. B. Gerald // Why are They Still in Prison? — Modern AfroIndio Times

Keeper My Thoughts – Chapter in ITFO

Last Note 2 sm

 

Keeper of My Thoughts

 

The harder Jamie tried to stay out of trouble the more it came looking for him. The guards went out of their way to get in his face and push him to make him react. Why? Were they bored? Did they want to mess up his day or they we trained to be that way?
      If the inmates were locked up the guards had more control over them and there was less they had to do. It was stressful for Jamie. He always felt like he was on the edge, waiting for them to file a case against him whether he did anything or not.
      One of the hardest things for him to overcome was the instant anger that came over him before he had a chance to think. He expected people to do the right thing and that didn’t happen in here.
      On the outside it was supposedly right and wrong that got you locked up, but once inside right and wrong had different meanings. When he spoke up for himself or tried to explain anything, it always got him in trouble. So right or wrong didn’t matter. Only who had the power mattered, and it was clear he didn’t have any. Guards didn’t like it if you called them out on anything. Getting bumped down in his line class was almost always because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
      Jamie didn’t want to lose the last of the privileges he had. The simple actions of being of being able to walk to chow or sit in the day room were hung over his head to keep him in control. If he lost these last privileges he would be confined to his cell.
      He could learn to control his own actions but he couldn’t control what a guard did, so to lose these privileges he didn’t have to do anything. A guard in a bad mood could make up a charge and it would be his word against the guard and he would lose every time.

<<< >>>

What a lousy night. Forget trying to sleep. It was too friggin’ hot and no way to cool down. Summer heat in a Texas prison was hard to get through but there was no choice. It was at least 90° and it was still the middle of the night.
      Jamie’s little fan, pointed at his face barely moved the air it was so heavy with moisture. His skin stuck to the mattress so he took it off the bunk and tried to sleep on the metal slats beneath.
      He ran the risk of a guard seeing his mattress off the bed. If he noticed it when he came around for his thirty minute check he might get yelled at to put it back on the bed. It was worth the risk but it didn’t work, anyway. It was a little cooler than the plastic but the metal didn’t make for good sleeping. Now he was tired and cranky with a bad headache.
      In the morning a guard finally came and took him to the showers. It had been three days since his last one and he knew he didn’t smell very good. He craved the feeling of cold water streaming down his body. There was so little pleasure in this place and a shower ranked on the top of the short list of things that caused pleasure.
In the middle of his allotted five minutes, with soap on his body, the guard shut off the water.
      “What the fu..” he started to say while turning around to face the guard.
      “What did you do that for?” Jamie asked with a sharp tone in his voice. He could feel himself getting angry so he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and thought, “Not today. Don’t lose it today. Get a grip”
      They stood there for a long second and stared at each other. All Jamie wanted to do was finish his shower and wash the soap off his skin. If he couldn’t do that the soap would dry on his skin. It would irritate it and make him itch. Add humidity to it and he’d be miserable.
      The guard who took him to the showers wasn’t having a happy day, either. He didn’t enjoying babysitting this sorry bunch of men. He wanted to hurry Jamie so he could get on to the next smartass he had to bring here. The faster he got done, the faster he could get back to the air conditioned staff office and whatever porn magazine happened to be lying around.
      This was a crappy job. He’d been here five years now and sometimes he felt like he was the one being sentenced. There weren’t any other good jobs in town that had benefits. He had a family to feed so beggars couldn’t be choosers. He had jumped at the chance to work here, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. They didn’t pay him well enough to have to watch these poor suckers get naked and whack off in the shower. He’d seen enough naked men to last a lifetime.
      They could do whatever they wanted in their cells, even though he could write them up for that, too, but the poor bastards had to get off somehow. He wouldn’t turn a blind eye, though, if he caught them doing each other. That was a mortal sin. The bible was adamant about that. He knew what went on in the cells so he no tolerance for any of them and what they might do.
      He had no tolerance for this one, either. He was going to hurry him up by turning off the water. He didn’t care if he didn’t get to rinse off the soap. He could plainly see it was all over his body. Serves him right for being here. That was his problem. He was the one in charge and he was calling the shots.
      Jamie was angry enough to let loose and tell him what he was and wasn’t going to do and demand he turn the water back on. He hesitated. If he did that he might lose everything he had been working toward, over a stupid, lousy shower.
      He told himself every day to stay in control of his mouth. He didn’t want to do something that would mess up his chances of going home. This would get him in trouble, probably get written up and lose his line class. That would put him in 24 hour lock up.
      Was it worth it over a shower? No. He was angry because he couldn’t do anything about it. Right and wrong didn’t matter. He’d screw the last months he was trying to get through so he could get moved back up to population. He wanted to go to school so he could take care of his family when he got out. He had to remember that.
      Jamie stopped and shut his mouth. He clamped his lips together and tried to think fast. He had two ways to go. Each one had a different result. Up till now he followed his instinct and let his anger speak for him. It never worked. Not once. He could do it different this time.
      He reached for his towel and covered himself. He didn’t look at the guard in a confrontational way. He lowered his head and looked down. What did he really want here? He only wanted to finish his shower and he didn’t want no trouble. He didn’t need to let his pride stand in the way. He sure didn’t want a stand off with a guard that would only end one way – with him in lock up.
      “Sir?” he said respectfully. “Could I have another minute . . . please . . . to rinse off?” Jamie waited. He said nothing else. It was the guards turn to talk. There was nothing he should find fault with.
      “About time,” the guard thought to himself. He was being shown the respect he thought he deserved. Why he thought he deserved respect without earning it, because he was a guard, was at the root of the problem between inmates and guards. But Jamie appearing subservient felt good so thought he’d bestow a little kindness on him, like a man in authority should do.
      “Okay, one minute,” he said as he flipped his fingers at him like he was brushing a fly away from his face.
      “Make it snappy,” he added.
      The guard turned the water back on and stood there and watched. You couldn’t be too careful with these morons. You never knew what they might do.

 

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

Twitter

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

 

 

 

Why America Needs a Slavery Museum

 

 

man's hands in handcuffsDoes America need a slavery museum? ( video at the bottom of the page) Do the people still not understand what happened – what is still happening? Apparently not enough – white people – because black people understand it quite well.

For ten years I have devoted my life to understanding racism and everything that the word means. It has stained America almost from its beginning. What gives any man the right to own and abuse human beings. The white children of that time were raised to believe they had that right to offset the guilt of their parents, who needed to believe they had the right to enslave people and they needed their children to believe it, too. Each generation taught the next. Their wealth and/or stature could only be passed on if parents could keep that belief going through the generations. It was, and is still, obscene. It didn’t matter that these fine upstanding white people professed to also be Christian.

Politicians who continue to this day to enslave the black man for their profit and to continue to believe in their superiority, they suppress their ability to get an education, while screaming loudly they are such fine Christians. They would like to use the bible as their rule of law, but only if it can be applied to kj them as superior, turning Christianity into a farce.

Today, in the prisons, using the 13th amendment from the time it was added, to legally enslave black people, it amazes me that our politicians, our Christian Politicians, continue with propaganda to sway people into believing black people need to be enslaved because they are dangerous and stupid and need to be controlled to keep America safe.

We know it’s not true. Anyone who doesn’t is ignorant.

While in prison Jamie has been beaten, medical care denied, locked up in a tiny cell deprived of human friendship, deprived of the warmth of human contact, deprived of an education for the sole purpose of making it difficult for him to survive when he gets out. Because they have denied him getting out of adseg for years he is not able to study for even his GED except for my providing a book. Will that get him a job when he is released in four years at the age of 39? Would he qualify for parole? Slaves were beaten if caught learning how to read and write. Keep a slave uneducated and they will always feel inferior.

Why would the prison and the corporations that control them do this? It is the same mentality of the slave owning plantations – to profit off a race of people they have determined to be inferior. The sick thing – in my own family, half my grandchildren are supposedly superior while the other half are inferior and will be subjected to the same harsh racism we see in the media today. From killings to being deprived service in a store. How can that be when they all come from me?

Do white people NEED to feel superior today, or is it inbred into their genes by now. I don’t understand why any person NEEDS to feel superior. Is it ::) already too late?

We DO NOT benefit from having a president whose ego is out of hand and thinks he is better than anyone at everything he does.  He has brought racism further into the light. He needs to be condemned for further ripping this country apart with our permission, because too many in this country turn a blind eye.

Slavery by incarceration needs to end.

 

 

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

Twitter

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to separate mailing list

Watch and Whirl – my other blog – diverse in subject matter

Ghosts in My Head – YouTube Video

 

This is the latest music video I have produced for my upcoming book “Inside The Forbidden Outside,” based on the life of Jamie Cummings and his years in prison. I sincerely hope you like it and subscribe to the channel. these numbers are very important for the success of the book.

So far he has completed more than twelve years out of seventeen, bouncing around to eight different prisons from one end of Texas to the other. He will be nearly 40 when he gets out. Unless I can raise the money to hire a parole attorney he stands little chance of making parole. Inmates are not allowed to be present for parole hearings. Their files are looked and a decision is made – almost always denied. What is in that file?  I intend to find out.

It is a tragic story and not an uncommon one. The prison system attempts to suck the life out of anyone it can get its hands on to increase the wealth of the corporations that run them. They make that profit by denying them the very things they tell the world they provide. They do that with smiling faces on their websites.

Horrible food, withholding medications and treatment for illness that do not have to cause death, but will if they aren’t treated. These are only a few of the inhumane things they do to abuse the people – the human beings – they are in charge of. They keep many, a higher percentage of black to white, in a classification called adseg or G5. When they are kept there it is very difficult to get out get their classification raised for years and even decades. These inmates are denied any form of education, even a GED, knowing when they get they will be unable to support themselves and society will not welcome them. Many in society say they deserve anything that is done to them – but do they? 97% of all arrests never make it to court and are forced to take guilty plea deals whether they are guilty or not by threatening them with added charges.  A 20 year plea deal can easily become a 65 year sentence for someone not guilty of what they are charged with.  But the public assumes they are guilty. They are black aren’t they? Much of society thinks being black is a crime itself, so lock them up.

girl-2696947_1920

Ghosts in My Head is music for the chapter when the conversations he has with the woman in the letters crosses over from reality to fantasy and he is no longer alone in his cell. 

I hope you subscribe to the newsletter below so you won’t miss updates as the book gets closer to completion. Writing a soundtrack to read by is a bit unusual for a book and this music was written for him and the emotional roller coaster ride the last twelve years have been. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support.

 

itfo newsletter

SUBSCRIBE

IMG_20180324_211754_745

Twitter 

Facebook  Jamie Life in Prison

SonniQuick   Main music website – subscribe to mailing list

Watch and Whirlmy other blog – diverse in subject matter