We covered the force continuum. The steps are: Psychological,
verbal, soft empty hand, pepper spray, hard empty hand, intermediate
and deadly. You can start at any level as long as it is appropriate.
The third day, we covered hostage situations. I can think of
three here in the past five years.
To me, the most disturbing part of training was a video of a
murder in a Utah correctional facility. At age eighteen, Kell shot a
man in the face in the dessert outside of Las Vegas. The case was
called "The show and tell murder" because several high school
students were taken out and shown the body. Thirteen years later in
Utah, He stabbed a black inmate named Blackman, 67 times while an
accomplice held him down. The attack was apparently racially
motivated. The accomplice kept urging Kell to "stab him in the
eyes!"
Kell, in subsequent interviews, seemed both personable and
intelligent.
He was charged with 1st degree murder. On his way to court, he
told the correctional officers escorting him, "Watch this. I'm going
to give an academy awards performance," or words to that effect. In
court, he cried and apologized to Blackman's family, and did put on
quite a show. The prosecutor called the correctional officers to the
stand to testify as to his comments and he was found guilty and
sentenced to death. All this happened nine years ago and he is still
alive and locked up in Utah. His accomplice got a life sentence. He
is now locked up in New Jersey, where he found Jesus and changed his
life style. Fo9r some reason, I still mistrust a prison conversion
of a murdering psychopath. Perhaps this mistrust will help keep me
aware of my surroundings and the people I am dealing with.
The word, "perscapacity" means acute awareness. I plan to be
perscapatious.
The TB test showed "negative."
(Note: The day after I wrote this, an officer in one of our honor
houses was stabbed fifteen times. He was lucky and he is doing
fine.)
The Portable Tower
This is no place for anyone who is claustrophobic.
Fortunately, I'm not. Because of numerous call offs, I got yanked
from my regular job in the visiting room and stuck in here.
The Missouri State Penitentiary is old. We got our first inmate
in 1836. Last year, a goodly portion of the wall between towers 2
and 3 collapsed. There was never any danger to the public because
the event was anticipated and fences were erected. Towers 3 and 4
have been deemed unsafe, so tower "3 1/2" came into being. Inside,
it measures about 4x4 and is a mechanized gizmo that sits outside
the wall. As I approached from below this morning, the officer
inside opened the window and asked, "You coming up here?" I answered
affirmatively, and the box began it's slow, curving decent. It came
to rest about eight inches above the ground and the door, which is
the whole one side of the thing, opened. I told the fellow whom I
was relieving that I had never been in this one. He showed me what
button to push to make it go up and down and where all the equipment
is sequestered. I got in, closed the door and pushed the button. I
rose like I was on a one seat Ferris wheel. When it reached the top,
it went "CLUNK" and I released the button. I have a good view of the
upper yard and a partial view of the lower yard. It is a bit windy
today and I find myself humming "Rock-a-by Baby".
Called control center and asked if I keep my side arm with me
when I visit the port-a-potty located down below. (I do.) I notified
the adjacent towers to watch my area. I went down, I went, and I
went back up. Hey, this is kind of fun! Maybe that's why they call
this one "the carnival ride". Picture yourself stuck at the top of a
Ferris wheel for eight hours and you have a rough idea of what a day
is like in a portable tower.
Taker of Dreams
As he drove past the large, beautiful house, the anger again
smoldered within him. The man who lived there had everything and all
he got were the crumbs. "Smug, self-righteous, SOB. Sits behind a big
desk all day and gives orders while other people do the actual work,
and for this he gets a bonus that's more than I'll make in the next
ten years! It isn't right! It isn't fair! He has a wife, those two
kids, a beautiful house, a great job, and I have crap. He
really isn't that smart. I'm as smart as he is. Smarter! Someone
that is smarter could put him in his place. I could make him wish he
had never been born." The sight of the man's daughter coming out of
the house, dressed in the fancy clothes and made up to resemble a
ten dollar hooker, (in his mind,) fanned his rage to flame. "I'm
going to even the score a bit, old buddy. You are living in a
perfect dream and I'm going to turn it into a nightmare. Christmas
is coming. It will be one you will always remember!"
... He went through the basement window. Nobody home. Well, he'd
wait. He wore gloves. Didn't want to leave any prints. To kill
time, he wrote the ransom note, using paper and pen from the house.
"Let them trace that," he thought.
... What the hell had gone wrong?
She hadn't acted like a ten dollar whore, but like a scared little
kid, so he hit her and twisted the cord around her neck until it bit
deep into her throat and she finally shut up. She was dead. So much
for the money. Even dead, she was beautiful. He picked up the paint
brush from near by and inserted it into her vagina. He was both
aroused and disgusted with himself. This wasn't him. He wasn't some
pervy child molester! If she had only acted differently!! He wrapped
her in a blanket and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, Princess. It
was your father's fault!" He slithered through the basement window.
"Merry Christmas, John!"
He was gone in the night.
