Chapter Twenty-Three: Washington D.C. – Visiting Our Nation’s Capital

Chapter 23 of the Autobiography... Letter W,Washington D.C.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

Washington D.C. – Visiting Our Nation’s Capital

During my eighth grade year in school we have a scheduled trip to Washington D.C. that we take during the summertime. The year we were to go our class almost had ours cancelled due to our behavior in school. We would have been the first class to have our trip cancelled for any reason, let alone for our unruly behavior. Kids had been fighting on a daily basis, people were continually starting food fights during our lunch period, and people were outright disrespecting and disobeying teachers and other staff. They couldn’t allow a group of eighth grade kids that act like that go to Washington D.C. without their parents. So I think it was much to the relief to some of the staff when my Mom decided to take some vacation time from work and go with as a chaperone. She also went with my brother and sister’s classes too, but I think it was in my best interest that she went with me. I’m not sure how badly things would have turned out if she wasn’t there to keep me in line.

So on the day of the trip we went to the Milwaukee airport and flew to Washington D.C.. We had been warned about a number of things that we normally would never have experienced in our neck of the woods. They said, “Don’t give money to the homeless people”, “Don’t buy from vendors on the streets and expect the items to not be knockoffs”, and “Don’t keep too much cash on you, and if you do have cash on you, keep your wallet in a secure pocket. There are a lot of pick pockets in this area”. So right away I’m thinking, “Where the hell are they taking us?” I can honestly say I had a great time. I know I was thinking at the time that having my Mom there with me was going to ruin my trip, but looking back, I really think having her there made it more enjoyable. If I remember correctly, I think I went through 12 rolls of film all on my own. I had my parents’ camera which took excellent pictures. So I was always asked to take the group pictures of everyone. While we were there we visited places like the Washington Monument, the White House, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, Arlington Cemetery, and went shopping at all the little stores in the Union Station. We stayed in the Hilton Hotel, but I was sort of surprised, it wasn’t as elegant as they show it on T.V. At night they would put masking tape over our doors and had a security guard sitting in the hallways to make sure we didn’t sneak into the girls’ hotel rooms. Who knows what would happen if one of the girls came home from D.C. pregnant. We toured all over the area. I would have to go back through all of my old photographs to remember more about the trip. I just know I had a blast and would love to go back there with my family again someday.

Chapter Twenty: Tubing – Relaxing on the Sugar River

 Chapter 20 of the Autobiography... Letter T, Tubing.

Chapter Twenty

Tubing – Relaxing on the Sugar River

  So many summers of mine have been spent tubing down the Sugar River. We would start in Albany, WI and pay for our tube rentals there and then get in the river right behind the rental place. The water is usually less than six feet throughout the majority of the tubing area, so it tends to stay pretty warm in the water. Most summers I would go tubing at least a half dozen times and at the peak I was going three times a week. I had so many good times with a number of different friends while tubing down this river. 

  Amongst all the fun in the sun while tubing there were also some bad times as well. The thing about this tubing adventure, as some may call it, is the biggest share of the people come there to get obnoxiously drunk while they float down the lazy river. I haven’t had problems on most occasions while I was there, but where there is alcohol there is usually trouble. On one occasion I got separated from the friends I was tubing with and at one point even lost my tube while I was searching along the sandy beach halfway down the river. When I dove back into the river to try to catch my escaping tube, it managed to get some distance between me and it. I tried so hard for the next twenty minutes to catch up to my tube, but it was no use, it was going faster than I was. Then I came across a fishing boat that was tied to the bank of the river, so I jumped in it. I needed to make it to the exit point somehow. When I got in and untied the boat I realized it had an outboard on it so I fired it up and took off up and down the river a few times to try to find the friends I originally came with. After a few rips up and down the river I gave up and pulled off the side of the river next to the exit point and tied the boat to a tree. I laid in some tall grass at the top of the hill until I heard a bus coming. Then I realized I was a little ways away from the exit point. So I had to run through this field to get to the exit point before they ended up leaving me there. I crossed a few electric fences in wet shorts while getting to the bus. It wasn’t a very pleasant feeling, but I managed to get there just in time. Luckily my friends were all there waiting for me too. For a while I thought I was going to miss my ride home too. That is the last time I went tubing on the Sugar River. Hopefully I can still enjoy hot summer days floating down the river once I find sober people I can go with. In the meantime I think I’ll have to stick to fishing or something else like that.

Chapter Sixteen: Police – My First Arrest

Chapter 16 of the Autobiography... Letter P, Police.

 

Chapter Sixteen

Police – My First Arrest

 When I was thirteen years old I was sneaking out of the house at night all the time. I had a paper delivery route for a few years and I was at that time where I wanted to give it up and pass it on to somebody else. Around this time my parents weren’t letting me hang out with my friend Travis. They thought he was a bad influence on me, but on the last night of my paper route I managed to talk my parents into thinking he wasn’t getting into any trouble anymore and they let him stay the night at my house that night. 

 That night we both went out and stole quite a few hood ornaments off of cars around our town. We didn’t get much sleep that night and had to fold and deliver papers by 5:30AM. I was passing the paper route onto my best friend who lived two houses away from me. He and I grew up together for the last eight years or so. He was a good kid and hadn’t been in any trouble so it was unfortunate that I involved him in what happened next. All three of us went off on the route to teach my best friend the layout of the route. We walked it for the purpose of learning it, but on a normal day I’d fly through and deliver the whole route on my bicycle in less than an hour. Walking it would take up to two hours. When we started walking the route we came across some cars with ornaments still attached to the hood. Some we pulled off, some we skipped by. But when we were nearly finished with the route I was showing my other friend where the deliveries went in the trailer park and I heard a “SNAP!” behind me. The next thing I knew was one of the people that lived there came outside yelling at us like crazy. Apparently he had seen Travis steal the ornament. So we took off running and we couldn’t think of anywhere to hide the ornaments, so I stuck them into my newspaper bag. A few blocks up the street a police officer pulled up next to us and asked us what we were doing. I told him that I was showing my friend how to deliver the papers on the route because he was taking it over. The officer asked us if we had anything on us we shouldn’t have and of course I said no. He looked through our pockets and when searching in my jacket he found an ornament I still had in my pocket from the night before. After that he told me I was under arrest and handcuffed me. I told him there was more in the bag and he took those too. All three of us were taken to the police department but I told the officer that the others didn’t have anything to do with it, that I had stolen them on my own. They took statements and my two friends were picked up by their parents. My parents were called down there as well and they said they were going to investigate it a little further. 

 A few days later I was at a track meet that I was participating in when four officers crossed the field and handcuffed me for the second time that week, only this time it was in front of five different schools and hundreds of parents. They took me to the police department again. This time they asked me if I had anything else I had stolen in my home and I told them I didn’t. They asked me if I had put anything in my attic that I had stolen and I again told them I didn’t. Then they pulled out a box of hood ornaments that I had stolen over the past month. It contained forty-six hood ornaments of all makes and models. I rode in a police car later that day and pointed out each house I could remember stealing an ornament off of a car at. There were too many to remember, and the rest were from cars in a municipal parking lot. 

 I was charged with multiple theft charges and was able to obtain a list of the confirmed victims of the thefts. I wrote letters of apology to all of the people on the list and all but two didn’t reply. The ones that didn’t reply ended up dropping the charges and the two that did reply accepted my apology and said I could do yard work for them as repayment for what I had done. I was still put on probation for something but don’t remember the details of the reasoning. Apparently they found cause to put me on probation, and I definitely needed it. 

 Only, when I was put on supervision they found I had been smoking marijuana, so they started drug testing me. I found out I could drink alcohol and it wouldn’t come up in the drug tests, so that was the beginning of my first stages of heavy drinking. I would drink almost every night for a while, just so I could sleep at night. It wasn’t long after that and I had a panic attack and finally broke down and told my mom everything. She had me see a psychiatrist who eventually started me on some medications that helped very little. But at least they got me started on something and recognized something was wrong with the way I was thinking and acting.

Chapter Fifteen: The Oaks – Camping In My Teens

Chapter 15 of the Autobiography... Letter O, The Oaks.

Chapter Fifteen

The Oaks – Camping In My Teens

   Located about 3 miles south from my family’s home is a small campground on a private lake. This secluded place is named The Oaks. I started camping here with my family nearly every weekend from Memorial Day to Labor Day every year. We came across this campground around the time that I was twelve or so. In the beginning we camped in a little pop-up camper that my parents bought. It was enough to get us through the weekend in comfort. I remember going exploring all around this place. There was a small sandy beach on the side of the maybe 4 acre lake, a floating raft in the middle of it, and only non-gasoline-powered boats were allowed in it. I wandered all over the place finding a great deal of other kids about my age too. There were some trails located in the wooded area at the back part of the lot too, and at the back of those trails were some kids in a tree house that obviously all knew each other somehow. When I was walking by they got my attention and said hello to me. So I stopped and started talking to them. 

  There names were Jenny, Matt, Steve, and the rest of them I don’t remember so well. But they were all smoking. I thought to myself, “Wow, more kids who smoke like me” and from then on out, I decided to be friends with them. They gave me the grand tour after that. There was a huge “clubhouse” in the middle of the campgrounds. Inside of it was a ping pong table, arcade machines, vending machines, restaurant style booths and tables, and separate sex bathrooms with sinks, toilets, and showers in them. Around the back field where all of the weekend only sites and tent sites were, there stood a thirty foot fiberglass Paul Bunyan statue at the end of the field. I spent so much time over the next four or five years hanging out with my three new friends. I’m still friends with all of them today. There were a number of others who I befriended along the way, but there stays in the campgrounds were usually for a short period of time, so they were forgot about shortly after their stay. 

  Years later, this very campground now sits empty and unused. It has passed through quite a few owners over the years, and none of them seem to be able to get it back on it’s feet and open again. 

  The majority of my early years of drinking and smoking marijuana were at these campgrounds, but these aren’t my only memories from there. I remember the late nights staying up, sitting around a campfire telling stories, talking about nothing in particular sometimes even. We didn’t have a care in the world at this point in our lives. I also spent a lot of time during these years fishing with my Mom and Dad too. There are so many good memories during these few years that I could write a book about them by themselves. Where good memories are though, are usually some bad memories as well. These years at The Oaks were also through the peak periods of my Dad’s drinking also. Thankfully, he put that behind him during this time too. 

  There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to go back and relive those years again. I had so much fun! Hopefully someday someone will come up with the financial ability to reopen the place as I’d love for my children to be able to have the same experiences there that I did with my family and friends.

Mail From Jordan! It's a BOY!

Written on March 1, 2011,

   Well, I finally got my cellmate to start working out in the gym. He was afraid of people making fun of him for not being able to lift much. I explained that he needed to start somewhere, and to not forget that there is always someone smaller than you. Then I went on to explain to him that not only will the inmates not make fun of him, but will try to motivate him, to push harder, to never give up.

  After Rec and Canteen distribution, they finally did mail. I finally got a letter from someone who is my real friend outside. Big props to Jordan. I really appreciate that from you! He also sent two pictures of his new baby boy. He's definitely a cutie! I made sure to write him back right away to let him know how things are and to address his letter too. That was honestly the highlight of my day! Other than that, I read Stephen King's 'Misery' and did some push-ups.

Until tomorrow...

~J. Doe

Hey! Thanks For The Mail ! ! !

Written on Thursday, February 24, 2011...

  Today was another long, boring day at DCI. No staffing, no appointments, not even a Library pass today. Apparently only five people got Library passes today. Hopefully they get the rest of us tomorrow. I'm running out of things to read.

  I had Rec at 8:30AM and other than that it was like any other day. Nothing going on. Didn't get any mail either. I'm sort of waiting for another letter from my Dad, and Mom said she was sending more pictures this week too.

  Oh yeah, and what happened to everybody who asked for my address in here?! I just don't get that. I guess they must be too busy to write. Well, for those of you who don't know what an envelope looks like anymore, I also have an e-mail address which will keep communication open! prison.gates@gmail.com.

  Just don't forget to include a return mailing address with you emails so that I can write you back! I sent letters to a couple people tonight that promised to write me too. I doubt I'll hear anything anyhow, but at least they'll know how I feel about it. Days are getting longer in here with the anticipation to my staffing building. Hopefully it comes soon! Anyhow, I hope I'll have more to write about tomorrow.

Until tomorrow...

~J. Doe

Many Slurs... Much of Racism.

Written on Friday, January 28. 2011,

   I woke up exhausted today. I tossed and turned all night because my cellmate didn't turn off the lights until about 3:00 AM. Now he wants to talk at 6:30 AM. What the fuck?! I just want some sleep!!...

   I got some sleep before the swamper came around doing linen exchange (sheets and pillow case.) I made my bed nice and neat and went to lunch. After lunch my cellmate got yelled at by our C.O. for messing around in the hall, talking to other inmates and trying to pass something. After checking his file and seeing he has had prior incident summaries, she decided to write him up. Too bad he only got his Rec period taken for five days, now I get to deal with him working out in here instead. Not to mention, he'll sleep during the day more, keep me up more and plain out piss me off more. Oh yeah, there isn't even five Recs before he's leaving so he got off easy. Now he's reading aloud while I'm writing. I wonder if I hit him in the mouth, just once, if I could get away with it? I might find out soon enough.

   Now it's cell clean up time and of course my cellmate got yelled at for trying to talk to the guy across the hall. Then, when the C.O. shut and locked the door, he sat at the trap door talking shit about her. I doubt he'll ever learn. I'm going to try to read my book until dinner. I don't think there is any mail today because it's a staff furlough day.

   I guess I was wrong. Mail was just delivered, but I of course didn't get any. I forgot to write yesterday that I got a letter from my Mom and Dad. Without them I don't know where I would be. Probably dead. But still, no mail from any of my friends.

   Tonight my cellmate was being disrespectful to the swamper, calling him “cracker” and “child molester.” Finally the swamper snapped and told my cellmate he was “an ignorant fucking nigger.” Well, needless to say, this set my cellmate off. He was yelling out the door about “Fuck this boot camp! I'm gonna beat that nigga's ass in the mornin'!” Apparently the swamper's daughter was raped when she was thirteen, so he didn't take well to the child molester comment too well. It took about an hour before the two of them decided to drop the whole thing. The C.O. Let me come out and play cribbage with the swamper for an hour and a half. Then we locked down for the night. I made some noodles and kool-aid. Now I'm going to lay down, read my book and hopefully get some sleep. Until tomorrow....

~J. Doe

Being Gay is Contagious?

Written on Wednesday, January 26, 2011...

  It's been a typical day for the most part.  I signed up to be a swamper, so when our swamper leaves, maybe I can get the position.  It's nothing special really, but it helps pass time and I'm sure it can't hurt for when I get staffed.

  I forgot to mention, I received a visitation list yesterday.  This one included my sister.  So now, both my Mom, Dad and sister are on it.  Maybe they'll come visit this weekend.

  For some reason I was really tired today and managed to fall back asleep after breakfast and sleep until lunch.  After lunch I read for a while and then we did clean-up around 2:00 PM.  The C.O. working 2nd shift today isn't a usual unit worker.  So, he felt the need to do cell inspections during clean up and took our chip bags that my cellmate and I use to cook noodles in.

  Fifteen minutes after clean-up was Rec. from 2:30 PM to 3:20 PM.  While we were at Rec., our other C.O. decided to full cell searches.  They tore our bunks apart and searched our property lockers.  They took anything they felt was unauthorized property.  Including my paper bag I kept all my paperwork in and the salt packets the nurse gave me.  The bag was gone, but I showed them my paperwork from the H.S.U. for the salt and tylenol that the nurse gave me for my swollen tonsils a few weeks ago, so they gave they gave the salt packets back.  Later, I noticed they also took my empty peanut butter jar I used to mix my powdered milk in.  They can keep it, it's not worth the argument.

  At dinner a whole bunch of people were giving the swamper shit because he got a cellmate earlier.  Since his his cell only has one bunk the new cellmate has to sleep on a mat on the floor for now.  They were messing with him because the new cellmate is quite feminine, if not openly gay.  I think I might be one of the few people in here who is straight and has gay friends.  They act as if it's contagious.  I'm not going to get on that subject right now.  The last time I did, I argued with my cellmate for nearly two hours before giving up due to frustration.

~J. Doe

Rec, Cell Clean-up and Thinking About Family and Friends

Writings of Monday, January 24, 2011

  Today when the swamper came after breakfast neither my cellmate or I had any appointments but we both signed up for Rec. at 7:30 AM.  I was laying on my bunk for a while and when it seemed close to 7:30 I got up and got ready for Rec.  Made my bed, put on my shorts and my Rec. shoes and told my cellmate to get his ass up and get ready.  He didn't listen and before you knew it the C.O. was yelling to us, "Be sure your bunks are made, shirts are tucked in, shoes are tied and you I.D. is on!  You can step out for Rec!"  Well, lets just say, my cellmate couldn't get ready in time and got sent back for not tying his shoes.  I, on the other hand, went and worked out for 50 minutes in the downstairs Rec. room.  Maybe a dozen people were down there and damn near any exercise machine you could ask for.  After Rec. I took a short nap until lunch.

  After lunch we had standing count, then the C.O. had shift change.  Then came cell clean-up.  They open four cells at a time to let us sweep, mop and clean our toilet, sink and anything else you may touch that can use sanitation.  My cellmate likes to talk to everyone while I clean.  He's just too distracting and loud.  They keep warning him to quiet down and that he's so close to going to the hole for being loud and disruptive.  I try to tell him to calm down because a rule violation might get him kicked out of boot camp before he goes.  I hope for his sake and mine, that he takes them seriously so he will go to boot camp by February 2nd.

  Cell clean-up is finished and the C.O. just passed out a huge stack of mail.  Unfortunately nothing for me.... making me start to wonder about some people.  It's hard to not let your imagination to run too wild and start thinking about all the things your friends are doing while you're in here.  The majority of the time you find out what you were imagining was far from the truth, but one can't help but to imagine.  I will say one thing, you hear from your real family and friends that's true.  When you're locked up you find out who your real friends are. 

~J. Doe