Seven Days In

It’s been seven days. As I sit and reflect more on the first day I got here, I’m reminded of how fast yet slow time can be, and the intricate details that form every single moment of every single day.

It was about 2:00pm on February 13th when I checked into camp. I was given bedding, a few hygiene items, and served dinner (yes, dinner is at 3:30 – we had chicken fried rice, green beans, and carrots). After dinner, I was given a quick tour along with others by an older man (an inmate himself) who looked like he should be on Duck Dynasty. Dude was awesome. He told us that some inmates had been recently caught with cell phones, alcohol, and drugs, so the camp director temporarily took away commissary - from everyone. Not the greatest thing I wanted to hear on day one…

Eventually, I was taken to my unit. It’s this huge building about the size of two basketball gyms. I was standing there among ~180 strangers, holding my bedding, and holding my breath. I was the new guy. I’ve never felt so small, yet so big at the same time. It was surreal…and something I’ll never forget.

Within the unit are bunks - basically, a cubicle built with cinder blocks. Each one has a bunk bed, two chairs, and a desk with a chair. And each person has their own standing closet too. It’s surprisingly clean and spacious. Like a lot of things in life, I had certain expectations or ideas of what this place would be like. I’m not sure if I envisioned something better or worse, but reality set in quickly. Seeing where I’d be sleeping and who I’d be sleeping next to for the next number of months was sobering to say the least.

I met Kevin that evening, my bunkmate. As we were making our beds, a handful of other inmates came to say hi and see how they could help. Several offered their own clothes, hygiene products, and food as a “welcome” gesture. Another dude went and got me and Kevin shoes from the donation pile. We’re both the proud and rightful owners of some lightly used Asics running shoes :). Seriously though, I was amazed at all the generosity. “Where do they get it from?”, I asked myself. “Why are they being so kind, they don’t even know me?”, I thought. These men haven’t known me but for five minutes, and they expressed more kindness towards me than many have in my life outside of this place.

At 4:00pm we had what I learned to be called a “standing count”. Everyone stood inside their bunks while two officers walked by, smiled, said hello, and did a basic headcount. We all hung out for the next 45 minutes or so, and by around 5:00pm, I met a guy named Ron (the camp pastor, and inmate). He invited us to a prayer circle and then church. There were about 12 of us there. We listened to a sermon about “complaining” and if that wasn’t something that put things into perspective… There are a lot of things I could complain about right now, but in a weird way, the peace I feel overrides the need to do so.

After church, Kevin and I met Joe – a 50-something man from Southern Texas who has been here for about a month. He helped us get logged into the computer system and figure out how to get credits for our FSAs.

Before I knew it, it was a little before 9:00pm which meant another headcount. Then 10:00pm came, and the lights went out. Though the lights went out, the unit didn’t. I could hear the buzz of several men watching TV, laughing, playing cards, and talking. I said goodnight to Kevin and crawled into bed (the top bunk). With a hard mattress and makeshift pillow from two sweaters I’d been given (apparently, we don’t get pillows here), I closed my eyes. I ended day one with a prayer and feeling full of love. From my children, to my mom, to Chelsea, and others who have and are continuing to support me. I really never thought I’d be here, but I am. It’s in the darkest of moments where we find the strength to dig deep and hold on to the things that push us forward.

Seven days down. One day at a time.