Rudy and I were kindred spirits man… Wild as hell, loved the excitement, brutal in our fights, dictators in the jail and had a following of friends that allowed us to just party all the time. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT we would get off of work and hit the bars. We chased women, drank ourselves to oblivion and just fit together perfectly…The two amigos!
We were partners on the third floor and if we weren’t, I was working medical and he was working third floor so we were never very far from each other. The population in the jail had grown to over 1000 inmates and we were only set up to manage half that population. For a while there, the Galveston County Jail was a war zone!
We had, on average, at least one fight or altercation with an inmate every day…if we didn’t have one on Monday, we would have three on Tuesday. It was the friggin Wild West in that jail and we were the sheriffs in that town.
This is where I grew my aggressive behavior. I had, in my first fight in the jail, broken two ribs and I vowed to never let that happen again. There is an old saying from cops and I lived by it…
“Rather be judged by twelve than carried by six”
And that was my motto!!
I jumped first, and if I had to jump first, I was in it to hurt whoever I was jumping at. I never thought about “fighting fair” and had learned all those years ago what fighting fair gets you…your ass whipped! But in the jail, they didn’t fight fair either and you could quickly be “shanked” or beaten to death if you EVER showed a sign of weakness. I learned that VERY fast!
After working the third floor for a short time, the inmates assigned me the name “White Tyson” because I was a bulldog and if I got the chance in a fight to hurt you, I would take it and many times people went to the hospital after our battles…I went once!
Again, I am by no means saying I am the toughest guy in the world, I am not that! But jumping first and with the intention to do serious damage! With my attitude, a reputation was built very quickly and I had that reputation…Aggressive, mean, and willing to go all the way if I had to…And I was proud of that reputation!!
26 years old, a badge, the “MAN” and a reputation of being a badass?? Man, those mixings are sure for disaster, and I had my brushes with them. I was invincible…I was powerful..I was a force to be dealt with and all the new and younger deputies liked me and admired the respect I had in the jail. I used a line from History of the World to say all the time, with my cocky attitude and mentality…
“It’s good to be da king!”
Man, how different I was becoming….
And I really felt like I was… Young and dumb man!! WOW, another portion of my life I don’t know how I made it out alive!
I had many experiences in the jail…Many fights, lots of education and the jail, well, it is what it is… I get the giggles when I see television specials where they talk to inmates that are in segregation or death row…
“They treat you like animals in here man….We are in cages like animals!!”
Well let me explain why many inmates are treated like animals….
BECAUSE THEY ARE FRIGGIN ANIMALS!!
Let me give you some details about how the animals play in the jail… And granted, not all people incarcerated are this way…”Old School” inmates, people who had done “real” time, they were easy to work with.
There is a thing called “dashing” in the jail, and for those of us who have been in this field, this word says it all…For those of you that haven’t been in the filed, let me explain in layman’s terms…
“Dashing” is where inmates throw fluid on you…The good inmates will use water, but that is few and far between…the “animals,” well, they throw urine on you, or feces…and the real animals, what they do is get those Suave type shampoo bottles…the ones where you pop the top, squeeze the bottle and the shampoo comes out the little hole at the top?? You understand??
Well, the “animals” (primarily segregation type inmates) they take feces, stuff it in the bottles, urinate in the bottles to get it nice and soupy, save it for days or even weeks and then when they have a bad day, or don’t get what they want, as you walk by the cell, they pop the top and squirt that on you…
And those bottles, they can squirt a LOOOONG way.
Now, ideally, as professionals, deputies and jailers you are expected to turn the other cheek, wash ourselves off, write up the inmate for a jail infraction (even though it is a criminal offense) and they will lose their privileges and do some more time in segregation…
Reality?? Reality is that you are human, and when someone throws shit on you, you go in, take everything from them and beat their stinking ass…Beat their ass to a point where they know to NEVER do that to you again.
As a matter of fact, I know of an incident where after a shake down of a segregation cell, there was a peanut butter jar found with this soupy substance in it. It was swelled from the gasses that had formed and looked like it was about to pop. When the deputies went to pen the lid, the cracked the seal and out came a …
‘pppppssssssssssssssss”
Noise of the gas releasing and literally fumigated an entire floor of 100 inmates. As I understand it, that jar was stashed by the deputies and one day, when an segregation inmate decided to dash a deputy, they responded in kind…but let me explain the difference..
Segregation cells have one bunk, 8x4 foot cells, locked down, one toilet and are in there for 23 hours a day until their time is up. If you are “good” in segregation, the time can be beneficial and a learning experience…if you are bad, the deputies control your fate…
This day, this inmate was bad and dashed a deputy right on his chest, rolling soupy feces and urine all down the front of him…on his shirt, in his face, and on his pants…he, apparently, was furious!
He went to the stash spot of this peanut butter jar and retrieved it to go back and respond to this inmate…Another deputy with his wits about him had a good plan.
Each cell has a water valve control so you can shut the water off…Along with “dashing,” “flooding” is a favorite past time, as well as fires and preparations for battles with deputies.
Well, this deputy had the good idea to turn off the water in this inmates cell…The original deputy walked back into segregation with his peanut butter jar opened, gagging as he walked, walked up to that cell and dashed the inmate with the contents and walked out, leaving the inmate in that cell with no water and no way to clean up and let him fester in that glob of shit…
Now, some readers might see this as extreme or unfair, or against human rights or whatever….
Turn about is fair play in my book and that inmate, he never dashed another deputy EVER….Now let me ask you, do you think a “write up” would deter that kind of activity?? Trust me, it doesn’t!
I could go on forever about the “tricks of the trade” in the jailhouse, but I will cover just a few…
Inmates, they use all kinds of ingenious weaponry…Shanks, propellants, fire, excrement, and slashing tools… Let me explain some more “animalistic” behaviors…
The homosexuals were always a lively group in the jail…The “queens” were funny and made the most ingenious items…kool-aid dried out for lipstick, ashes mixed with water for eye makeup, I even saw a guy one time who made a wedding dress out of trash bags and had another inmate marry him and his boyfriend…So very touching!
Well, the homosexual tank was refereed to as the “punk tank” and this name was not given to it by the deputies, it was labeled by the inmates as such. These guys, when they would fight, it was always a blood bath!
Scratching, biting, and clawing….BRUTAL!! But the favorite weapon was a slashing weapon…
Here is how it works… Get a shaving razor, break it open and get the blade out. Get a paperclip, stick it into a power outlet and make a filament out of it, take a toothbrush and melt the end of it so it’s “gooey”… Take the blade, put the dull side in the melted plastic, set it in real good and let the plastic cool on the toothbrush…Now you have a VERY effective slashing weapon to go to war with. Although it was widely used in the jail, the “punk tank” used this regularly.
The way we knew there was a fight in the old jail was usually from them banging on the wall and all yelling through the doors as loud as they could…
“FIGHT IN E TANK!! FIGHT IN E TANK!!”
Generally, in the old jail, you popped the catwalk first to see what the fight was about before opening up the cell door…You never know when you are being set up for an escape attempt…You have to always think about escape attempts…the last thing you ever want is inmates having a deputy as a hostage.
The Chief of my Academy was the last Hostage at the Galveston County Jail and he barely made it out alive…His partner was not so fortunate…And this was ALWAYS in the back of my head. As I type this, I can still see the Chiefs scar on his head where the inmate shot him, he played dead, and the inmate killed the other deputy then walked off, escaping…
Well, the “punks” would fight and slash each other with these knives and almost 100% of the time, it was a blood bath…Blood EVERWHERE!! Blood on the walls, the floors, the tables…and in that dark dingy tank, you cant see very well and to go into a tank with known AIDS victims having a slash war, well, that was insanity.
Generally, when they would have their slash wars, we wouldn’t even open the tank door…They would get done, the loser would be gashed open and bleeding, they would drag him to the door, we would open the door and drag him out and then bring the inmates the mop bucket so they could clean up the mess…
Yes, brutal, yes, vicious, and yes…LIKE ANIMALS!!
I had one inmate, one time, who decided he wanted to try and dash me. He was about 4 foot nuthin, and was a real animal…He had the little man syndrome and he had spent so much time in jail, he knew how to work the system.
He had about three teeth in his mouth, all going different directions and a bottom lip that looked like it had elephantitis in it…Looked almost like a birth defect and caused him to talk like “mophead” from the Fat Albert Cartoon.
He was a handful…he would flood, light fires, try to kill himself, steal, jack people, he was a true animal in the jail and as I understand it, not much different out in the “world” (The outside of jail is called “the world”).
He was mad at me one day and wanted me to move him. I explained to him I was busy and I would get to him as soon as I could…This wasn’t good enough for him! He said…
“you moob me now, or I am gunna floob dis mubber fubber”
And I didn’t get excited, I just went to his cell area, opened up the door to where the water cut off was, and cut off his water…
“OK mubber fubber…Now you is mine…I got sumbin for yo mubber fubbin ass Golden”
And I looked around the corner into his cell and saw pissing in a cup….It was just me and him, there were no cameras, I was trying to stay calm and I called to him as I was hutting of the water…
“Come on man, its just gunna be a minute….”
“Fub Youb”
Nice and calm I said in my most condescending tone…
“Don’t doooo ittt….if you throw that on me, I am gunna whiiiiippp your assssssss!!”
He looked up at me as I was peeking around the corner and said…
“FUB YOUB!”
And threw the cup of urine at my face…I dodged most of it but got some on my neck and cheek…. I calmly closed the door and latched it, started to walk towards the cell door, getting the key and made my way into his cell…
“Come on Golden, whatchoob gumma doob….Bitch, yoob aint gunna doob nubbin”
I calmly opened the cell door and he was waiting for me, standing in a fighting stance, hands up, fists balled, and as soon as I walked in, he lunged at me!
As he was coming at me, I had my keys in my hand, and threw a straight right that caught him right in his snaggled tooth head…. I am surprised it didn’t make his lip pop!
He fell on his bunk, I moved towards him, and he came at me again…With my keys in my hand, I contacted in the same place, now he was dazed and couldn’t stand…he was going to the bunk, and I was going after him.
I got too him and started to whip his ass, striking him with my fists and then that little rubber band that all of us have inside of us, it got wound too tight, and I SNAPPED….
“PIIIIINKKKKK!!!!”
And started to waylay this guy…Pounding him as he tried to cover up….Every punch I would say a word….
WHAP!!!! “YOU”
WHAP!!!!! “EVER”
WHAP!!!! “THROW”
WHAP!!!! “PISS”
WHAP!!!! “ON ME”
WHAP!!!! “AGAIN”
WHAP!!! “I WILL”
WHAP!!!!! “FUCKING”
WHAP!!!! “KILL YOU!!”
And then someone grabbed me in a bear hug and pulled me off the guy…It was the Sergeant from Classification and SHE literally had my feet off the ground as she pulled me off of him…
“Brad, chill out, chill out”
And I snapped back to reality…
The inmate was lying on the bunk, beaten and battered and crying, howling…
“I want my momma…I want my momma…Let me call my momma”
I walked out of the cell, left the keys with the Sergeant, and told him as I walked out…
“Do it again mother fucker and its gunna be worse”
And from that day on, that little animal never threw anything at me again.
Its odd how many times in the jail, an ass whoopin gets you much more respect than any write up or lock down will ever get you. I was “White Tyson” and I had a lot of respect from the inmates…Most of them anyway!
I did my time in the jail, continued running the streets and raising hell, taking advantage of my new found power and position and had many more wars and incident in that old building. As I understand it, that jail isn’t even open anymore and there is a new and improved jail in Galveston now. It’s been years since I have been on the island and I couldn’t even tell you where it is now.
Donna and I, after about 5 months of being split up, found our way back to each other, and continued with our life together. She graduated from the Houston Fire Academy and if I remember right, was one of 50 women in a force of 8000 people…Pretty impressive… like I said, she is an inspiration!
After doing my time in the jail, I took every advantage I could to get out of there and on to patrol. Many times being self defeating in the process…
I was all lined up to go out on the streets and then got in a bar fight one night with some other deputies with some Coast Guard guys… Galveston PD was called, Galveston PD made some calls, and I was sent back to the flying cockpits. Patrol was nothing but a dream…
I also had to hide my past from these new found friends…No one knew about my troubled past and I wasn’t telling anyone either. As far as anyone new, I had never done a drug or been in trouble…I was the perfect little model deputy (well, kinda) and I wanted it to stay that way.
After serving my penance for the bar fight, I was called in by the Major of the jail and told I had been chosen for patrol and I was to report to Major Lease in patrol in three weeks… I was thrilled!!
As is with most things, people see you moving up, they aren’t, so they get jealous and start to try and create things about you, or dig things up about you. And remember, the choices you made in the past are always back there waiting on you…there is nothing you can do about them once you have made them…so choose wisely.
I had gotten a drivers license in Texas, and it was all clear and good, but I never took care of my suspended license in Colorado from my last DWI. I had even forgotten about it… But be assured, if you forget about something from your past, someone will always be around to remind you about it… Try to bury something and be assured, someone always has a good shovel!
We can never escape the choices we make… CHOOSE WISELY!!
I was outside the jail, talking to some deputies about what I was told about patrol, and one of the deputies broke out a shovel and started to dig into my past…
What he found was that I had a suspended driver’s license in Colorado, and it was still suspended…In all reality, what that meant was my license in Texas was not valid. That was in 1990 and here I was in 1994.
This deputy ran to the Chief Deputy and gave him all this information…I had no idea!
I get called into the Chief Deputies office, 3 days before going to patrol and he sits me down across from his desk…
“Well Brad, I got some bad news…”
Oh man, this talk again!?
“Yeah, what’s that Chief?”
“It appears your license is suspended in Colorado, did you know that?”
“Well, I knew it was suspended when I left Colorado, but that was 1990 sir, I figured since I have a Texas Drivers license, I am OK and my Colorado suspension has expired.”
“No Brad, it doesn’t work that way. You have to go through the process of getting your license renewed in Colorado…Your Texas license isn’t really valid. I sure am glad we caught this now before you made it out to patrol.”
We, who is we?? And then it hit me….I knew exactly who it was that did the digging… I was mad, but in all reality, even at that time, I knew I couldn’t be mad…He was right, how would it look to have a deputy on patrol who had a suspended drivers license….Man, this was NOT good!
“Well Brad, I have to take you off the list for patrol… I am sorry man, but it looks like Rudy will be going out on patrol, not you!”
I was devastated…I was happy for my buddy Rudy, but felt I had just sealed my fate with the Sheriffs Department.
“So what now Chief??
“Uhhhm, I would suggest you get this crap in Colorado cleaned up…As a matter of fact, if you don’t get it cleaned up quickly, I might not be able to keep you on with the Department.”
“Look Chief, give me some time, let me get to work on this, and I will get it taken care of. If I get it taken care of, will you put me back on the list for patrol?”
“Yes, absolutely I will!”
Do I have your WORD on that Chief?”
“Brad, you have my word!”
The next week or so was like me in a beehive…I was buzzing everywhere to get this taken care of. Word had leaked out and people were now talking behind my back and passing judgment…But I refused to let this own me, I REFUSED to let this circumstance create my reality… Even then I knew I was bigger than that and I could overcome this.
I was on the phone every single day….I was on the phone with a hell of a lot more ducks than I was eagles and I was overly frustrated…Finally I reached someone who seemed to have a touch of concern for what was taking place at the Colorado Department of Transportation.
I explained my story and she would quack about half the time, but that was better than the constant quacking I got from others…so I went to work!!
Once I knew I had her interest, I got her name and her address to send her documents and paperwork, but first I sent flowers, and a thank you card with a note of appreciation…That was the very first thing she got from me!
After that, she was always excited on the phone with me and eager to help me….I wasn’t asking for anything special or extra, just do the job at hand expediently…and she did!
It was three weeks later and after hours and hours on the phone, sending faxes, mailing paperwork, getting details…I was exhausted, but I had a valid driver’s privilege in Colorado and a valid Texas Drivers License.
I mention this throughout this book and want to revisit this again….The life you live is up to you to live it and create it. You can sit back and let the world happen TO you or you can go out and make the world happen FOR you…its choice, its up to you, and you can always overcome your circumstances even when all the evidence tells you otherwise…
“NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER GIVE UP!”
~Winston Churchill~
If you settle for less than your own personal greatness, that is often what you will get! And I am no one special… I am no super hero or guru, or super human…. I am just an old troubled kid, old pothead, punk, and criminal, dirt bag, who decided at one point in his life that I wanted it to be different….and so I went and made it different!
You can do this too…Every single one of you. Don’t settle for no the first time you hear it…Don’t settle for no the tenth time you hear it… Keep pushing, find different paths to your goal, don’t get it made up that it has to look or be a certain way…there is ALWAYS a win/win in every situation….sometimes you have to swallow your pride, be vulnerable (and the hardest part) trust the process, and move forward…
As soon as everything was done and I had everything cleared, I went back to the Chiefs office and knocked on his door….
“Come in Golden, have a seat”
“Thanks Chief…”
“What can I do for ya”
I had a small stack of papers in my hand and my new Texas Drivers License and I said…
“Chief, I told ya I would do it, I am keeping my word…I am humbly asking you if you will keep yours?”
And I handed him the stack…
He looked over it and was impressed, saying so as he fingered through the paperwork, when he was done, he looked up at me and said ….
“Absolutely!! You kept your word, I will keep mine….You are on the list to go to patrol, but it might be a little while. I will send you out next.”
“Man Chief, I really appreciate that…Thanks for keeping your word… It seems that is not a common trait anymore, I really appreciate it.”
“And let me explain something to you “White Tyson” When you get out on those streets, it’s a different world than in this jail. You don’t have to put your hands on every person you encounter… Don’t you make a fool out of me…You better do a good job!”
I had sat and talked witht he Chief maybe 2-3 times before this, and he knew my nickname from the jail...I was stunned, almost speechless!
I had sat and talked witht he Chief maybe 2-3 times before this, and he knew my nickname from the jail...I was stunned, almost speechless!
“Yes sir, you can count on it…You have NOTHING to worry about!”
I thanked the Chief, turned and walked out with my chest all swelled and my head held high…
No better feeling than accomplishment.
As I started to walk into the jail, I noticed on the front entrance were some deputies gathered around chatting…One of them was the one who turned me in.
I walked out to the crowd, made a minute or two of small talk and then announced I was just told by the Chief that I was the next one to go on patrol.
I got pats on the back and “Atta boys” from the deputies but the one that tried to burn me, he didn’t say a thing… I looked over at him and said…
“You didn’t even make the list did you?”
And he stormed off without saying a word back into the jail…
3 months later, I was assigned to Crystal Beach as a Patrol Deputy…
“Success is almost totally dependant upon drive and persistence. The extra energy required to make another effort or to try another approach is the secret of winning!”
~Dennis Waitley~
No comments:
Post a Comment