(Sonni’s note: This letter was written almost exactly 2 years ago on July 7, 2013. Jamie was going to have a chance to see his son.  There are very few letters were I have been able to read joy in his words.  His son was now almost seven years old.  The last time his saw him he was just learning to walk. For a along time he was moved around to prisons that were too far away so visiting was hard.  Now he was in a closer prison.  He hoped that would enable his family to come see him now but contact was very rare.  he was able to see him again a couple months later when I came to visit. That was the LAST time he saw him.  I am going to Texas again in September and I’m hoping my daughter will let me take their son to see his father again.

Jamie Cummings
Jamie and his son July 7, 2013

This picture was taken during that last visit, with his son in front of the glass and his father behind the glass.  That, in itself, is heartbreaking.  Jamie’s son is all he has to live for.  It also represents the one good thing that came from his brief time between juvy and prison.  Because his contact with other people is rare I have been like the peanut butter between two pieces of bread holding the two of them together.  No matter what, when his son matures, even though he doesn’t understand it now, he will know how much his father loves him through the hundreds of letters he has sent to me.  There is a reason why I came into his life.  Without this connection, when he gets out, it would be a different person emerging with different chances of success living in society.)

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Megan is bringing Jamie! Thank you so much for making the phone calls. I just can’t wait to see them. I’ve waited so long for this. What I feel has gone beyond many things. I’m going to see my family!! The only person I’ll be missing is you. It’s okay ’cause you send your love to me. It’s just like seeing you.

You’re right, about a lot of things. I do my best, just as always, but it’s always going to be someone or something trying to bring me down. Just as soon as I got moved over here some dude asked me if I wanted to beat up a prison guard. As much as I would have liked to, I said no. I’m looking to move forward, not back. I’m fixing to try my best not to fight these folks in here. I can’t do it without getting caught.

Punk stole my radio. He’s saying he didn’t but I just know he did. I’ve seen him take stuff from other people’s cells. A lot of these folks do it. There is a lot of theft from other inmates. They wait people go to chow and then go in. No, the officers don’t open the door. The way the locks are made they can stick in anything flat to jimmy it open. I know I could get back at this guy but (fuck it) it’s not right!

I have a new celly. He’s young, from Dallas. He loves Texas! I can’t stand Texas. I want to get away. We get along good. No problems yet, hopefully none in the future.

It’s hot like crazy. No rain in a while. It’s killing me. Little cell. Four walls. I’m boxed in. I’m cooking like Ms Susie Homemaker. Well done lol. It’s really really hot, We have no air in G4. The only time it cools off is for 3 or 4 minutes in the morning. I sleep on the steel to try and keep cool. It helps a little but not much. The steel hurts to sleep on so I toss and turn all night. Once I do get to sleep it’s only for an hour or two. I lay on my bunk looking outside as the sun begins to rise. There are some trees and the sun peaks over. I lay there and just think sometimes. My mind is blank. I just watch. Sometimes I think I would like to make a poem about what I’m feeling and seeing. It feels good to do it.

Heat in Texas prisons, no AC in prison in the summer
Wynne Unit, the prison Jamie is in. These fans are the only cooling system even when it is over 100 degrees. There are no open windows. All it does is blow hot air around.
cooking like Ms Susie Homemaker. Well done lol. It’s really really hot, We have no air in G4. This is only one of the inhumane conditions in prison. The only time it cools off is for 3 or 4 minutes in the morning. I sleep on the steel to try and keep cool. It helps a little but not much. The steel hurts to sleep on so I toss and turn all night.  Once I do get to sleep it’s only for an hour or two. I lay on my bunk looking outside as the sun begins to rise. There are some trees and the sun peaks over. I lay there and just think sometimes. My mind is blank. I just watch. Sometimes I think I would like to make a poem about what I’m feeling and seeing. It feels good to do it.

Credit source: beaumontenterprises.com

I saw my cousin. He’s here at the prison. I talked to him a few times. He works in the chow hall. He’s my uncle’s son. I’m waiting to get some addresses from him. I don’t know why my mom isn’t writing. But like I said before, I put her through a lot. However, I can’t explain why she won’t write to me. And Megan won’t write. Yes it hurts bad but there’s nothing I can do about it. I try to stop thinking about it. I only look forward to mail from you. Really that’s it. No one else. Megan made it clear she’s not writing. I’m through begging her.

This is my last letter for now. I only have one more stamp. I got the tablets and the envelopes, and the book.

Till next time. I love you and always will, Son

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(Sonni’s note: Please help me get Jamie’s story out there by sharing it on your own social media and if you want to be on the email list for news about the book I’m writing, “Inside The Forbidden Outside” please fill out the contact form below.

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