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My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story

06-11-2022 , 12:17 PM
I had not beaten up any black people in prison. I certainly wasn't any type of race hater or looking to set myself above anyone. I just wanted respect. Now that I was on the list of white people who were becoming issues in the dorm had me a little concerned. Whites weren't singled out but weren't gonna be protected or their opinions respected. Racism is very alive all over but it mostly has to do with the level of ignorance most people have about history . In prison, in the heat of the moment, history does not matter and being alone, watched and plotted on is some awkward **** when all you did was defend yourself.

Some time goes by and I'm not getting into anf beef with anyone and things seem to be forgotten with Supreme. I'm just one of the guys again (almost) and im still just the same cat that gambled and cut jokes and talked **** all the time. Chad is gone , I had heard he was on lockup still , but after having all this crap happen because of him, I kinda was glad he bounced. I didnt have to babysit anymore and I know all about Tammy now .

One week the stud game kicks off. There are all kinds of new gamblers around and the game is pretty fat with tobacco, the main currency and canned meat, the next best currency. When players buy in with this stuff, they got more where it cam from , so all the people are running in and trying to get hot and hit and run the game

its evening time , after night time chow and the table is full. We have been playing all day and Ive been caught out there in this strip deck version in a big hand , quads over quads and lost a massive pot to haiti. probably the biggest prison pot I played ever - at least 2 cartons of cigarettes in the pot. I was all in on 6th. just massive for the stakes

I go borrow to get back in the game and we are grinding back. All of a sudden I notice the crziest cheating I had ever seen.

Haiti was dealing-
everyone antes and he deals 3 cards for roll your own stud

I watch him deal out all the hands and then place the deck right on top of the hand he just dealt himself . The he picks the deck back up to call the action for opening bets for stud and he moves the ante chips off of 3 cards that were there and I never noticed. now he's got a hand again and it's three cards he placed there himself and knows what they are.

I watch him win this massive pot and at the end he rolls over a big kings full hand- he had rolled up kings unte the ante pile and while people were squeezing their hole cards, he was double dealing and slight of hand card cheating.

As soon as I seen his hand, I yelled out " you cheating bitch" and tried to turn the table over. one of the other players stopped it and then i started yelling he was cheating and I wanted my money back . I yelled out lets go to the room , which meant lets go fight and i went to my room to wait on him.

a minute later here he comes, older than me maybe early 40's . He is swinging his room key on his finger by a shoelace rope. This key is massive and if swung during a fight and kits you in the head, will cause you to get stitches etc. A lot of people are coming to see what's happening. The guys that live beside me in the next rooms, are in my room watching me and him. The tattoo guy is right there and his tattoo pack takes D batteries to run and he keeps a lot of them around. He had put some on a towel while we were standing there -

I told haiti, " my bad man, I don't want none" when i seen the key. It really will **** you up. Well he turned to leave the room when I said I didn't want none and when he did, " snow" the tattoo guy hands me the towel with d batteries and I busted haiti in the head with it as he went out the door.

that was some hard stuff even with the towel as a barrier and he grabbed his head as we botht went witht he momentum into the hallway / rock area. There was prob 10 people there watching this unfold.

As soon as i dropped the towel and he turned around, we locked up. we were brabbing at each other trying to get a hold to swing and at somepoint i stuck my left palm near his mouth and he ****ing bit me just like sweet pea said he would. I still have the scar. Not too deep but teeth will scar the **** out of skin.

i pushed him off and he tried to swing his key at me. There was an old timer named ernie standing close and i grabbed him and yanked him around as a human shield.
haiti is bleeding from his head and im bleeding from my hand.
ernie breaks free and i back up to get clear of the key and he bring his locker lock out of his back pocket-
in prison you have to buy your own lock and the commissary has several types- plastic master locks or the big #5 steel master locks. This is what haiti had and when he brought his hand up to throw it at me close range, I turned and ran towards the other end of the dorm, away from close devastation if he hit me.

well I got a few feet and thought it was a safe distance and at about the time I had that thought, I felt a massive impact in the back of my head. Haiti had thrown that lock and beaned me directly in the back of the head and it ****ing smashed me into next week. I am surprised I didn't go unconscious . As soon as it hit the ground from the impact on my head, I turned around and went right back at Haiti. He had no more locks to throw.

We stood there maybe 40 seconds and i'm drilling his eye and he cant do anything with it. someone yells police and everyone scatters to their rooms.

I'm in my room and my roommmate is in there with me and we've got the glass covered up , im in the mirror inventorying my wounds when I hear a knock on the door.

it greene- the unaffiliated weed guy who after i opened the door for him says to me, I couldnt stop them-

Then around 20 of the 5% nation members who lived in the dorm came to pay me a visit for fighting a black person. There were no words. When the door was shut, there was about 3 seconds of silence and then as I was trying to determine who would swing first, someone I didnt even see hit me so hard in my right eye that it shifted my bone structure a little and that eye has a slight droop now.

I have never been hit so hard. Even my stepdad hitting me when I was 8 was a bitch slap compared to this punch. In the cells there are the bunkbeds bolted to the floor against the wall. the lockers bolted to the walls and then a steel desk by the bed , bolted to the floor.

As soon as the first punch landed , i felt blows from everywhere and immediately dove for the desk and the bottom of the bed. My thinking was they wouldn't swing towards that steel and risk hurting themselves like that. I was right. It was a quick beat down.

When it was over, they rolled out of my romm and I was left to figure myself out. It was late , getting almost lights out when one of the officers seen haiti in his room patching up his busted head.When the officers see one guy hurt, they know there's a high chance another guy is hurt too. They go room to room looking until they see anyone with blood or marks-

They officers found me and marched us both out of the dorm. All 255 guys were standing by their rooms when they marched me out. I had just fought haiti, been bitten, smashed with a lock and then jumped by about 20 people who really tried to hurt me.
I walked out with my head held high. I didnt cry, I didn't look down in shame. I walked all the way across the dorm in dead silence with hundreds watching me walk out after getting my ass rung up.
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06-11-2022 , 12:41 PM
When we got to the holding cell, Haiti told them he caught me in his room robbing me- I told them he was cheating . They sent me to lockup, while he stayed on the yard. I felt like I got a bad deal there after getting beat down, now going to lockup where because of this charge , I can be sent to level 3 long term admin seg . where you get reviews every 6 months for reclassification . if you get written up, you stay on lockup-

The first day in the hole after getting whipped like that is pretty terrible. The pain in my head, my eye swollen shut. my whole body sore . No doubt I had a concussion and that lock rung me up pretty good . I remember my head hurting for a week. It all healed though excpet that bite from haiti- that will never go away

Sure enough, I get to my hearing and they recommend level 3 admin seg, so im moved over to the long term side for the first time. Not leaving this building for at least 6 months. 23 hours a day lock down. At first I was in disbelief that I had found myself there and hated being inside that box.

You have to compartmentalize the facts of your situation- locked in a room that wont be opened unless you are dying or dead or they need to kick the **** out of you if you wont cooperate. You realize the earth could go into total war and the keys lost by the fleeing guards , why you slowly starve in the cage. So many hard truths you have to realize and deal with.

At first I rebelled and kicked the door and was just loud and went into super disrespect and games mode where i made the staffs job hard and the guys on my hall hated me for all the drama.

Then I broke the shaving razor one day and made the slightest cut on my arm, liks a shaving cut and told the guard I wanted to die. They came in and took all my property and then transported me by van to columbia sc from ridgeland that night-

they took me to gilliam psychiatric unit for " mental hygeine"-

I was excited just to get out and about and ride in a van, but that was short lived when it was officer johnson , who had found my onions thatwas going to drive me there. I was still a little salty about her powertrip . as we drove up and we talked I was telling her about family issues and all my stuff and after hearing all mine, proceeded to tel me that her house had caught on fire the week before and her daughter and husband had burned up and she was dealing with all that.

It made me have a new perspective about Mrs Johnson and I never gave her a hard time after that and took care to be kind.Even though I was in a prison and uncontrollable didn't mean I didnt know when to be a decent person.

Last edited by tarheelbluez; 06-11-2022 at 01:00 PM.
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06-11-2022 , 01:12 PM
Gilliam Psychiatric unit was a mistake on my part. I thought it would be a little get away , see another prison, kill some time. I didn't realize I was going into the pits of hell.

The dorms were just like the receiving and evaluation dorms at broad river r+e where the unit is shaped like a giant U with cells on two floors. You can stand at your door and see across to the other side what the person in the room ooposite you is doing. In my case , whenever I came to my window, the guy across from me was naked and jacking off. All day long.
Then the cells themselves were so filthy it was depressing to be locked in with it. The long skinny windows that you could barely see out now had thick screens over them to prevent them being broken for suicide . Now the light is filtered through those filthy , **** covered screens. The floors are black with filth. People that are crazy, dont clean their rooms. I had a rat who came every night to see if there were crumbs dropped from the food trays during the day.
I quickly wrote medical that I was sane, not suicidal and wanted to go back to Ridgeland asap. I stayed about three weeks and heard all kinds of crazy ****. One guy cutting his own eyeballs out with a tuna can lid. ot how about years later i see a news article where a guy killed like 9 people one day there , tricking them into his room then strangling them.
One thing that really freaked me out was that all my life I had never met anyone with my name. sometimes similar, spelled different or a different middle name . The laundry workers are coming thru and exchanging bedsheets , towels etc.

One of the workers is at my door and his name tag is clipped to his shirt pocket identifying him as a dorm worker. He had the exact same name as me- First , middle and last - with all the same spelling.

It kind of freaked me out and I havent seen anyone since then.
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06-11-2022 , 01:44 PM
Back at Ridgeland, I'm reunited with my bag of letters and some books I owned. It felt great to be back honestly. The place was clean, as it was still brand new and the cooking was better than Gilliam. Prisons all make the same menu everyday but it depends on the expertise level of the prison cook whether it is the best it can be or the mediocre level that the psyche place was.

Then there was the quiet . The laid back and low stress way to do time. I realized that I needed to work on myself since I had time to myself with no where to go. I started reading whatever I could find. Some of these long term guys had mini libraries and I read all they would loan out. I started hustling for books. I would trade chicken from my meal trays for any book someone may have in the future.
I was writing the library and requesting books. Anything I could do to keep them coming I tried to do.
I started doing pushups in my room. At first I was doing 10 , then 20, then 50 then 100 at a time. I wasnt smoking any tobacco, I was eating what the state cooked, which was regular healthy foods- beans, potatoes, rice, fruit. I ate some of the meats but I usually traded it for things I felt more valuable.

after my first 6 months of level three lock up, I was starting to change in a lot of ways. I was maturing inside and using the box I was locked in as a tool to elevate my thinking.I was on the long term side, where others were also locked up for long periods.

some had been on lockup for years already. Religion plays a big part of prison life. Some religions are very strict and actually require you to educate yourself in many areas before you can even claim to be a believer. Some religions like christianity are incompatible with higher religions and inferior on every level but most people do not know this.

When you get to a long term 23 hour a day lockup- someone if not a few will be in that cell for their beliefs. either against institution policy or they are deemed a security threat. either way , there will be some there, as it's the way it is.
well at ridgeland there were a few on the long term side. These guys had been up there since the place opened and had been in other lockups before coming there. These guys were on another level.

On the weekends the staff is laid back and lets you open your door flap and everyone on the hall has an unobstructed view to talk to each other and just hang out. The guys who were already up there would talk for hours at their doors of philosopy and psychology. hours and hours debating law and procedure to beat lawsuits they had filed or appeals they were working on. They would talk mathematics, history, religion.
Some would talk about things most would deem unbelievable and have affected my life until this very day.

I was the only white guy on the hall. I was young, I was wild as **** but I had respect for people and their beliefs. I listened to every word these guys said and because of how I grew up and the situations I had learned from, i could put togehter most of what these guys were laying down as truth. The other stuff I could not verify without experience but just the conviction in their voices and the regalness one of these guys carried himself with , I knew they were some really smart guys and I tried to soak up every word they ever said.

I tried to build my mindset on what they believed and used to sit in my cell for hours unraveling history using what I learned from these teachings. I wanted to be held in the esteem that those guys had for the one who was their leader. He was in a cell that he was never getting out of and the guy was bulletproof mentally.

He knew high levels of meditation and would be silent for days at the time and the officers leaving him be, not even bringing him food. They didn't dislike him, he was their favorite guy- Just because you are in a cell doesnt mean the guy paid to keep you there hates you. Looking back, I'm grateful of the people that worked that lockup- I certainly benefitted from a few of them so I know they aint all bad.

These Rastafarians were vegetarians and I also became one. I didnt have any dreadlocks, But I certainly listened and read whatever material was suggested. I read about Haile Selassie and Babylon. I read about ciphers and counting in 60's . I wasn't accepted as one of them, but was allowed to have the knowledge since I came at the situation with respect of who and what they were. I valued the knowledge as I knew if I built my life on it, I could not be stopped.

I was right.
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06-11-2022 , 04:01 PM
For me the base of what I learned from these guys was the belief of Self. You yourself is a divine creation and using your mind , body and spirit to express yourself to a higher plane thru meditation. Most people consider meditation to be some 3 minute rest. I've seen a 3 days straight meditation before , so I know how serious the REAL serious people can get.

When you hear philosophy and psychiatry pitched at high levels and then have to sit in a room staring at walls all day, it does something to you I believe. Was it because I was so young? I never took school seriously except for reading and writing. Some math I was good at but before I could get into higher learning , my home life fell apart and I began my Institution journey.

I would literally lay on my bed after doing my pushups and my shower and think for a couple hours how things or processes work in the world. I realized that for a fraud to take place there has to be a layer there. A layer is a barrier between you and whatever fraud you are perpetuating and the more layers you could add , the more power it gave your from security nd then finally those layers are sealed and cannot be undone in the " philosophical " sense.

I realized that this is the method used to control man for thousands of years and that there was so much misdirection and code that peeling back the layers for normal people was impossible. Whoever thought this out spent a LONG LONG LONG time putting into plan and then into place.

Like the wisest of the wise, who did nothing but think all day and debate, wrote out the master plan to control people and that has been the deal since it came out of the play calling book. Back then I could see in my mind how these things could have happened based on the results in front of my eyes. This stuff wasn't some made up delusion.
I thought about the process in use and applied it to the past and compared results- layers prevent the people from overcoming tyranny and that because of the design of the system, has held for a very long time. Almost like the people overcame the old system at one time, drove out the different tribes or whatever and those scorned tribes reinvented the system and patched all the flaws that led to the last downfall and then reinforced it all the way around with more armor plating.

After realizing the world was gonna do it's thing no matter what I settled down with all my books, all the banter with the guys and all my thoughts on what my life would be like when I got out of prison. After a year of being up there I reached out to my mom and one of the seargents let me call her from the office in the seg unit. It was great to hear her voice after being in that room so long. I don't think she understood what was going with admin seg rules and how long I had been there but when I asked for books and newspapers she sent me a subscription to USA today and a nice stack of fiction so she blessed me in that way.
I remember it was when Kennedy Jr and his wife died in the plane crash off the coast. Seemed like a few weeks of those front pages.

I probably read 500 books up there in 18 months. The spectrum of subjects and some weird **** at times. People will sneak in some weird ****ing porn in the middle of a story and you hate when that happens.

One guard named Seargent Boyd brought me a pair of headphones when he knew I couldnt get any thru the commissary as they were out and were having issues. I was waiting a long ass time and being cool but 23 hours a day lockdown and the others with you are silent because they are listening to their headphones while you cannot was a little crappy.
By this time I had been up there for a while, had earned the privilege , it was just luck they were out and having issues- BUT Sgt Boyd, who knew me from the yard and seen me in action, knew i was about it. seen I came up to this lockup and invested in myself and respected the men that lived beside me and what they stood for, he brought me in some from the street , on his dime and gave them to me.
These weren't fancy- They were a pair of the old cheap version of a walkman headhones with the curved metal strip that the headphones clipped to and sat on your head. Just a paif of those-
It was like I had hit the all time lottery. I could listen to news, radio , talk radio. i could tune out a lot of that prison until I was let out of the cell so having them was a blessing.
They sucked as wearing them , so I took some fo the styrofoam cups your lunch beverage is served with and knocked the bottoms out and inserted the speakers to amplify the sound around the room.
the metal strip that held the heaphones on was a good size for a knife so I started checking it out and seen it was really weak in the center of the curve around the head so i snapped it in half to see if it would be stronger in two pieces.

it was stronger but it was hard to file the tip down so I was just gonna sell it to whoever would buy it and set it under my bed where the molded property area was under the concrete bunk.

Sometimes when you take showers up there, someone will randomly come by and need to see you- the nurse, your caseworker, the C-O. they will pop that window and there you are buck naked and they are standing htere looking in. One way guys avoided it was they jammed their state issued toothbrush in the flap and it prevented it from being opened. Thinking about that one day I wondered if the flap lock itself could be jimmied to open from the inside on demand .

it was a different design than the door lock and having those strips made me think of trying to pick the flap lock from the inside. The strip was 1/4 in wide and about 6 " long. it took about 3 tries from the bottom angle to hit the lock and push it off the latch , popping the flap open.
From that moment, I could open my flap at any time, in seconds AND hide the tool before they could find it.
Right away I sent my 2nd " key" over to my homie that I kicked it with so much, Joseph. He loved having that key and never used it , was gonna hold it for emergencies he said.
As for my hiding place, In lock up , if the officers want to open your door, thes rules are that they must handcuff you first. security rules.
if they come to my door after I pop my flap and want to come in and search I would slide that small tool into the small slit ive cut in the double pleating of my boxer shorts. the piss hole pleat, has a double layer and if you sldie that in there, they never see it and skim over yous horts while looking elsewhere.
While they are demanding I come to the door to be cuffed to search, Ive hid that quickly by ducking down at an angle they cant see what im doing and when its all done, they find nothing and move on. I became a master at their games. I have gotten so much over on cops at times.
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06-14-2022 , 08:04 PM
Rememebering all these events and the mindset I had back in those days is exhausting. I had started out at 12 getting into trouble, a weeks stay then had turned into a several years stay 7 years later when I was 19 and at Ridgeland. I had no life outside of a fence. No property,no girlfriend,wife or children. I had no job history or anything resembling an education. I was pretty much a child of the system .

My mom tried everything to get me to change course in my young life but her having that alcoholic demon stepdad around was not for me. I could not live at home where my brother and mother slept because of this scum of the earth loser. He pushed me in a direction that changed my whole being and thinking lately about the past and really being honest about it, I think i've had a lot of black magic spells placed on my life. my stepdad was one of them. The 1st night my mom stayed away from me while she was seeing chuck, I heard those crazy satanic voices of richard and gina at my grandpas house.

I just banged this story out as it was coming back to me and for the last couple of days, I've been thinking about it all. All possibilities. I've had THREE catastrophic injuries to my left side , starting as a young man . I had a motorcycle dirtbike and I traded my 4 wheeler neighbor friend for a spin around the neighborhood-

I had been riding all kinds of things for a while and was proficient and mostly careful. I was riding down our main subdivision road in Hidden Valley and all of a sudden, I could not turn the 4 wheeler. I wasn't going that fast, maybe 30-35. I angled into a wire fence and then into a lightpole-
The fence was heavily damaged, the 4 wheeler was bent in the front where it hit the lightpole and i was unconscious on the ground- My helmet had flew off and over the lightpole my friend said after I came to.
My left arm was broken and when my helmet had come off it almost took my left ear with it and ripped it pretty good on the back. This all happened shortly after Chuck came.

I never realized those voices happened her first night away. Was that satan talking directly to me? Telling me he was taking her from me ? Because thinking back, this is what was being said I believe. I loved , loved , loved my momma. I'm sure everyone does but we had an awesome connection and when she foolishly thought chuck and his families money were gonna change our lives, I'm sure she never had this in mind.

I'm trying to honor her by writing well and being honest. I have said this before here years ago- I write this , without proofs, without spell check- I flow and let it fall where it falls. when I get to the end , i will then go back and make it the perfect masterpiece I so wish it to be.
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06-15-2022 , 09:39 AM
I never thought of any of this in Ridgeland Admin Segregation. I was in constant turmoil in that cell about who I was and where my life would lead. At the start of the long term lockup time, I was still in yard mode where any transgression against you had to be confronted and dealt with. I was fighting in the beginning , other young bucks of different sects.
A lot of new gang initiates or prospects want to impress their homies and think they will " try" a person with no affiliation to make themselves look more tough and earn their bones so to speak.One time a guy thought he was gonna handle me and it ended up bad for him.His friends didn't help him, he chose to start it.
Sometimes you get hardcore drug addicts from the street, that were good people at once , with talents but drugs messed their lives up.One guy on that lock up was named Michael and he was from greensboro NC and locked up in SC.He wasn't really what you would call my homeboy since we were both from NC- He was totally lost to drugs but was an insanely good artist and I contracted him to draw me a portriat of my friend Jeff who had killed himself at his girlfiends house. At that time I was till holding on to this " boys for life" **** where we were some power group of highschool ****heads.
At the time though, this was all I had being young and dumb , so I had him draw the portrait and he asked for tops tobacco and soap, so I had my guy who worked lockup laundry get him the stuff he wanted and he drew me an awesome pic that I later gave to my dear friend Sean Dempster, aka Treefrog to keep as he was closer to Jeff.

When the prison forst opened the yard area for the lockup was a square patch of asphalt with a basketball goal. A few months into being in lockup , they installed dog runs for each inmate to be locked inside of for yard time. You came from your cell handcuffed and led into your cage and then uncuffed thru an opening in the cage door. Totally locked down .

Michael who usually kept cigarettes was out of them and there was a dorught up on the lockup as the officers were searching the janitors and laundrymen for contraband. I had a little tobacco someone had given me and i rolled it up while we were all out on recreation one day. Michael was several cages down from me as I was in the end cage.

Thos amount of tobacco was miniscule and was a couple of quick puffs and it was done. I lit it up toook a couple hits and Michael starts screaming at me to save him a " short" which is the butt you are throwing away- He was several cages down, it would have to be passed, cage by cage and it was a a flimsy hand rolled cigarette that was nothing left. I told him it was done and threw the paper that was left down.

He started screaming and cussing me out , being the biggest cage gangster there ever was. I was like yea yea **** off and laid down in the cage to get some sun. maybe 20 minutes pass and I hear Michael tell the correctional officer who just came outside that he wants to go inside to his room.

Outside there are styrofoam cups for water and he had taken one and pissed in it and concealed it in his jumpsuit and the officer unwittingly cuffed him in the front because he was going in at an off time instead of with everyone else.
Michael walked down to my cage and threw a cup of piss in my face. I did not see it coming , I was just 100 miles away thinking about the future and here comes this drug addict weirdo who could not control himself over any type of drug has hit he with " gas" a cup of piss in prison -

We are going to war
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06-23-2022 , 04:39 PM
I did feel like somewhat of an ass when I started getting into trouble and then getting stupid property crime felonies early on as a kid. Feeling like an ass was better than feeling unwanted at home. My mom was oblivious to the mental games chuck played and I was sick of them and being somewhere else locked up was better than home.

Getting caught in Myrtle beach in 1995 was kind of an awakening for me. Icouldnt make bond. My mom wasn't coming this time. I had to wait and see what the court would do and I settled into the wild side of the young people in the pod. This is where I met sweet pea the first time and where I ended up in the hole for the first time.

It was spring break time and there were lots of young people in the pod , coming and going at all times. A few of us not making bond and broke were trying to game the weak people for their goods. Making trades in our favor or in my case, this guy bret who had tried to kill himself years earlier with a 22 to the forehead and survived was locked up for arson and not getting out on bond.
He had a club foot from the bullet, along with a black dot of gunpowder residue from the bullet entry still staining the scar , right in the middle of his forehead. He had a hard plastic heel that he wore when he walked so he wouldnt fall down and would talk a lot of **** and try to use it as a weapon.
All the guys liked to clown him and i was kinda new, I'd say about two week in and it was commissary day.
The pods had two man cells with numbers on the door. A lot of people will go to the door and say " hey c.o. pop 215" and the cop will look at the door and whoever heard you say it will look because dudes aint got **** to do in jail but look where they hear someone talking, especially the requests to open doors.
99% of the time, it's the owner of the room requesting entry and that verbal request is the usual way an inmate asks to get into their room. Sometimes though you have a different opportunity to get your door open. If its pretty laid back and the c.o. is not being stressed out and isn't in a bad mood , you can stand at your door and hold your hand up or be real close to it and reach for the handle while holding your hand up -
He will see you and pop the door. Its not every time or every cop. Its situational and ive seen it not work. You have a great chance if the cop doesnt recognize you yet. Once you stay in for a while, they get to know regulars.
On this day , the day the rooms were filled with goodies , I decided to see if I could rob ol bret the loudmouth hammer foot. He wanted to die anyway so screw him right?

After lunch in jails on commissary days, it is quiet and people are enjoying their sugar or coffee or deodorant.Some like to play spades and this is where we find bret, playing spades. I told sweet pea I was gonna rob bret and he was cool with it so that emboldened me.
Sweet pee is like 2 years older than me and has been selling crack and an all around smart guy so i'm like lets do this!!
Brets door isn't far from mine and i stroll down to it and hold my arm up to get it opened. It pops almost instantly and I go right in and take his bag of food.
As im leaving someone sitting at the table with him see's me come out and points me out to him and he turns around and sees the bag I have and screams --- c.o. !! c.o. !! im being robbed!!

well the officer just popped the door for me so im caught. I get to my room anyway and close the door behind me. Because bret has the club foot, I know he can't get to my room quickly so I start eating everything I can to hide evidence.

I hear sweet pea outside yelling to bret " dont bring no drama to my room mothereffer"

Bret gets to the door and sees my mouth full of his food , debbie cakes and chips, he starts screaming again and this time he's banging on the door with his hard plastic club foot- BAM BAM BAM stop eating my food!!!

So by now the other officer has made his way to the door and popped it open to investigate the issue. I didnt buy any commissary, he did. The other cop opened his door and now I'm here with his missing stuff and I have to give it back-
plus go to the hole-

Honestly looking back, It was a super douche move to steal the food but It was boring as hell in that place and I remember laughing like hell till tears came down my face over this. I never really told anyone of this story because it's just too damn irregular to normal people.

If you were raised up in jail , it's normal life. People robbing others all the time. Fights. gambling. law debates. war stories. I didn't know all this yet, I just started my journey into real jail so It was just kid fun that didn't mean anything outside the walls. In jail the rules are different unless you hit staff. Then you get street charges.

My first time in the hole wasn't very nice- The jail was full and I had to be in 23 1/2 hours a day lockdown with a cellmate, who happened to be in his late 40's and had done his whole life in prison and was back in county jail for some weird sentencing thing. That was a trip.
I remember him being unbothered by the room and the person he was locked in there with. Only later did I realize you get used to a lot of stuff in these places. You either adapt and accept or go crazy and get hurt by staff until you do.

It was a few days after that and I got my own room and the person who was there before me had left books, one of which being the godfather. I had remembered snippets from the movie as a kid but had never seen the full movie then or understood the signifigance of it,but seeing the book and desperately wanting to feel like I was a gangster , I was overjoyed that I had it.
It was VERY thick , probably 500 pages and up until then had really only read a handful of books. Sitting still was hard for me back then and having this book was the start of my making myself read and get immersed into the words.

I ended up reading this book two times in J rueben long. I was in lockup the whole time I was there, never returning to the pod. The cell I was given was randomly searched like a week or so later and inside the mattress they found a lighter, which I knew nothing about.

This led me being taken into the red pod, the true lockup at j rueben long. Another section of guys but this time longer sentences for disciplinary stuff.The doors slide on hinges from a control room opening them . No keys required.

I ended up leaving that jail on my birthday , freshly put on probation and on the way to my dads in rock hill.
My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story Quote
06-23-2022 , 06:57 PM
None of the adults in my life were strong enough leaders to follow or learn something from. My dad disappeared as soon as chuck refused to leave and then it was weak feckless chuck who hated me and my brother and treated us as we were invisible.

Moving back to my dads at this time on probation and still not knowing who I was or who I wanted to be like was very awkward. He lived like a total low iq dipshit with a girlfriend who was just as bad. I didnt want to be like weak ass chuck but I did like the finer things in life.

The differences in the two men was the graqnd canyon almost and I didnt really have any respect for either of them especially now after reading the godfather in jail.

Something about Puzos style and the way Michael Corleone had to first be one person and then circumstances change him into the don really enthralled me and to be perfectly honest made me want to be the whole mafia.

Something about Omerta and Luca Brasi made me want to form my own family and control my own destiny. It was those teenage pipe dreams of a lost soul but in my mind at that time, I had that mindset to guide me.

The be silent and listen mindset. The no fear , demand respect mindset. Even as I was doing the ignorant, stupid petty crime to get me sent away, I was already starting to think in terms of process and layers that would later help build a foundation that cannot be torn down unless I die or get locked up. My life would have never been the same had I not read that book.

So when I got to prison in SC, one of the first things I done was found that book. I must have read it twenty five times. The book is so great in depth and nuance of thinking compared to the movies which are great themselves. The book is a jewel though of knowledge for a man lost and in need of a role model.

Michael Corleone was my role model. I wasn't in the mob, I wasn't calling any shots but I was one fearless bastard in prison and my fight with Mike from greensboro cemented the fact that I did not give one EFF about handling my business.

In prison , when you " handle your business" you are about to be punching or stomping someone over a dispute.

At the extreme point of my prison stay on the yard before lockup , when I was coming into my identity as a man, I remembered back to sitting in myrtle beach , knowing i would end up in prison . I asked myself in that lockup cell that if I go to prison, " will you be somebodies bitch" ? for this petty **** you are going away for , will you become some weak **** ? Are you a clown like that? I asked myself this and then I answered myself-

You will do whatever it takes so that NO ONE will try you and if they do, there will be a fight. I can promise you, no other white guy at that prison was on my level- no fear. After Stretch broke my nose and that pain wasnt as bad as I thought, I was blood thirsty to be honest.

So here we are with Mike in long term lockup- He's gassed me with piss and I have a low chance of catching him beside me in one of these outside dog runs for a while. Its friday and we dont come back out until monday and a new shift will be working so I had time to sit in my room all weekend and plot on him.
My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story Quote
06-23-2022 , 07:12 PM
One of the worst things you can do in prison is come at someone with a bodily fluid. That means all out war. If you mess up and spit on an officer or throw urine or feces on him/her, you will get a felony assault where when convicted you will do 85% of the mandatory 10 year sentence.

Rarely do inmates gas staff and even rarer they do it to inmates. Inmates will kill you if you do it to the wrong one.In my case I could not get to him , I only had one option-

Shampoo Bottles

Take a dump and then take a leak in it.use something and stir it into a mud consistency and then pour into the shampoo bottles.Now you got that fermented gas and a real threat to anyone if you have an enemy. you can keep that bottle by your door and when you catch someone slipping, bam- right in the face-
It is rarely done but it has been done and I'm about to tell you how I did it myself.

Monday rolls around and the new shift is taking people outside for rec- I grab my bottle and put it in my waistline to hide it before im cuffed and led to the cage. Well, because of chance, guess who they put right beside me?

Mike from greensboro and he's cuffed behind his back and is backed up to the just closed gate to stick his hands thru the slot to be uncuffed for his hour excercise. I immediately say
" whats up now mothereffer and pull out my shampoo bottle full off runny peepoo and start shaking it up like whipped cream-
I yel to the officer" YO MAN BACK THE **** UP" - " YO MAN BACK THE EFF UP" I said this like 5 times and when he didnt move the last time, I uncapped the bottle and blasted peepoo right into mike from greensboros face-

The officer got hit with spray that bounced off mikes neck. it landed up on his shirt and dud starting gaging immeditely and ran in the dorm calling on his radio. I emptied the bottle on mike , who had 2 bottles of urine or water stashed in his person and spreayed them at me.

at that point, all i could think of was the **** hitting the officer and now Im gonna get a street charge for it. I told him over and over to move, i screamed it to him. They came in goon suits and threw me in my room, took all my property and wrote me up assault on officer and for 5 days i was in that room shaking that they would street charge me.

well apparently , me telling him to move so many times, helped me not get charged on the street , but in prison, i got 6 more months lockup- I rememeber tears coming down my face in that hearing and the women I could tell were upset they had to do that to me. I got gassed first. eye for an eye.
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06-23-2022 , 07:36 PM
Once this episode passed and I accepted that I was gonna be in that room a while I started to really do an immense amount of thinking and self reflection.

I would read the godfather and then try to apply that thinking to how I carried myself. I stopped being a jitterbug ( prison slang for young and ignorant) and started emulating some of these lockup guys that were so versed in wisdom. I would read a 300 page book in one day and then listen to guys build knowledge together based on math and symbolism.

After months of me being chill and "laying down" ( a term indicating someone mature about being in the hole) accepting my place and building my mind to handle it , these older guys noticed. These guys who had been in these rooms for years and didn't exactly mix with white people regularly, accepted me into their debates.

The things I was told and learned shaped my life immensely and at the time , I didn't know how much. I knew what I had learned was real stuff and that I had to be careful with the casual violence mindset because in the real world, people dont fight, they call the cops.

If one of my friends was thrown in there right now , they would be someones bitch. I know it with all my heart. A white dude with no street cred and scared of his shadow will not make it. One of my associates one time said he would prob be someones bitch and I thought to myself , yes you would with that mindset..

I don't like telling this story as it's pretty damn primal and that the person you would have to be to do this stuff is not someone most people can relate to. I adapted to my environment to survive and to thrive. I never went to jail to be someones girl or chump. I would have never soaked up any of that wisdom if it wasn't for Mario Puzo and that mindset got me thru several tough prisons and got me to the top in weed horticulture.
My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story Quote
06-24-2022 , 07:26 AM
In a lot of ways I don't think my life has been fair. You cannot choose who your parents are and you can't make their decisions for them. I felt like we , me and my brother were losing our mom to chuck. she was working more and more , learning all aspects of his real estate attorney paperwork requirements and still doing her own real estate stuff.
They would get home sometimes at 9 or 10 at night , while me and my brother did nothing but suffer in grades and me getting into trouble and going away.

She helped him build up his business and then started her own real estate company as a broker when he didnt want to break up the partnership he had with his dad through the family company.

She boomed while he drank himself into a stupor everyday and showed up to closings drunk and finally getting disbarred after many complaints.

I knew he was a chump from day one at 8 years old. My mom went from low aspirations biker to local attorney and son of wealthy local businessman.She was not gonna let that go considering she was smart and wanted a better life for me and my brother but look at the damn cost.

She's dead. She died of lung cancer the day before her 48th birthday in 2006. When she told him that xrays showed something in her lung and that she needed to see someone his response to her was " Rose, we don't have the money"

So she sat at home and drank fresh vegetable juice from a machine and did all the home remedies. She pretended that she wasn't feeling bad and during this time leading up to her death, we weren't speaking.

I had gotten upset at her around september of 2005 about my dog Angus who had inherited some weird sickness thru pitbull breeding and he was horribly unhappy and I had to do something . I was gonna take him into town and have them put him down and she suggested the vet she had used on her wolf caleb a few years before who had died of cancer at old age. This guy did house calls and he came out and gently put angus down and handed me a bill for almost $500 and I got very angry about it and let her know.

I was so upset over Angus and at the time Tammy who I was in love with and had just gotten badly hurt in drunk driving accident caused by her brother. She almost died and was at duke for a month in ICU with a broken back. We were broken up at the time she was hurt and I always felt like if she had just chilled , she would of never got hurt.

Either way, I was upset about so much that I stopped talking to my mom for a few months and in this time she got worse and one day in early february 2006 she told chuck that she could not lay down to sleep that her back hurt bad , so she propped herself up on the couch.

Then two days later that stopped working so she asked to go into the hospital , the same place I was born- Johnston Memorial.
My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story Quote
Yesterday , 04:12 PM
There were many other characters throughout my stay in prison at Ridgeland that I haven't mentioned so I want to " circle back" and include some of these tales and tie in my release and the times after prison before my mom died.

Living in the terror dome was something I wouldn't want to do again. Because I was going to and coming off of lockup frequently, I was in random top bunks with random roommates. You get moved into a room where the guy has been in for life, is gay and has aids. His boyfriend lives in the dorm and they " mess around" while you are asleep on the top bunk. Quick room change !!

Or then the prison pervert nicknamed " gunslinger" , who the crotch of his pants are torn at the seams and he wanders the prison in search of female guards , where he " posts up" and starts jacking off through this rip. This guy gave me the bottom bunk so he could open the locker door and block my view of the door from my bed and he would jack off to the female officers walking by counting us in the rooms.
There was one or two more like this guy but not as wild and open about it.

Then there was Kenneth Helms, nicknamed Red from rock hill where my dad was from but we didnt know each other or anyone mutually. He was white and a weaker type guy but wasn't a bum where he owed people and brought drama. that's what you try to avoid in prison.

Red was cool but he thought he was tough and I had to punk him down . The female sergeant that was on I forgot her name but older black lady, foxy as hell said " dont you hit him!!" as i was walking towards him on the rock which was the common area outside the rooms. He had a slick mouth and It was time to check him and she seen it and put it out.

The was another guy named " ears" who I didnt really know much about except his name and that his pants always had a dark oil stain in the back like he sat in oil. What was really the deal was he was taking it in the a$$ and that was vaseline stains. Late night bathroom stuff when the roommate wont agree to let you use the room to screw the dorm punk so you use the community bathroom. That was some sick stuff man, dudes in the card game acting like they weren't screwing the really nasty guy the night before.

Or the all time best was when new guys came to the prison. If they were wearing brand new clothes and new state issues sneakers, they were a new inmate , fresh off the street.

If they were white and " looked" like they could have had money on the street or " looks" like they could be gamed for anything of value, then the vultures step in to befriend them.

If the guy is broke and a worthless derp, he's cast off like dead weight and ignored when they come up later trying to talk like old lost pals.

If he has money they start trying to angle on befriending them to get some of that money.

Or if the guy comes in and starts talking about his girl on the street , or his bro is bringing him some drugs on visitation - depending who this guy is, if he has no homies or affiliations, he's in big trouble telling people this and that's exactly what I seen happen and will never forget the look of terror on the guys face after it was over.

Usually within two weeks a guy has been to the commissary and people know if that person has money or not. If a guy is using them , this is about how long the friendships last unless it's a " good thing" term for impossibly sweet hustle.

Then you have the visitation approval wait time which is about a month. Here is new white guy mid 20's , already balding and kinda goofy - he's friends with the absolute snakes of the dorm. I know right away he's in trouble but when it passes two weeks and they are still hanging with him, I didn't get it until I seen them standing at the door waiting on him to come back from his first visit in prison from his girl on the streets.

I can still see this dude holding up the approval letter he got in mail call saying she was approved. Smiling towards his homies like he was the man of the hour!

As soon as he walked in from visit , three of the goon squad , quickly whisked him into a nearby room where they demanded the drugs. When he said he didnt have any , they beat his ass. Then they went and got the aids infested punk I spoke of earlier and made him stick his finger up the guys ass to make sure he wasnt lying.
Then they beat him up again for lying about getting drugs.

That dude was never the same again and after that day I never seen the goons speak to him again. That dude learned a tough ass lesson. Some people will perpetuate lies to inflate themselves and I can tell you , prison is not the place to try to be that guy.

Last edited by tarheelbluez; Yesterday at 04:20 PM.
My Journey from lost to found - The Hard Way - My life story Quote
Yesterday , 04:36 PM
Haiti ran the regular poker game but others had the sports parlays tickets, dice games and my all time favorite game " skins"

I have played this game twice in my life and both times "shot the moon"-
meaning I broke the game and won all the money.

It has been 27 years since Ive played this game so I want to try and get it right.

You can play up to 12 people but its probably best between 7-9 players.

First thing you do is get a brand new deck of cards and shuffle them good, removing jokers etc. keep the box!

Place the deck back inside the box and tear a piece of it off so it would be easy to draw one card at the time-

NOW- the players need to draw numbers to see who picks a card first-
whoever goes first picks a card and can either play that card or sell it to someone else who may like that number or card. then it goes on down to the last guy until all players have 1 card each-

now the rules are this- you bet against the other players as to whose card will come off the deck first. If I have a 5, that means there are only 3 more 5's in the deck and there would be 43 cards left if 9 players picked one each-

I would bet anyone willing to take my bet that my 5 would last longer than their card.

You can have 6 bets going at one time , each card being pulled off the deck builds each bet with more money as everyone keeps betting their number if it doesnt lose.

If there are " clean " cards still in , a person whose card was pulled can " buy" that clean card and get back in the betting until it's over.

If a guy makes a run on the game and gets hot and wins it all, he shot the moon-

I played this game twice, shot the moon twice- havent played it since and wanted to introduce it to people out in vegas during the series as its a great dinner break game .
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