After getting the job at the Sheriffs Department, I was called down to get fitted for uniforms, get my badge, get fingerprinted, my ID card made with my picture and fill out all the necessary paperwork…I was so thrilled to actually now, officially, be a Texas Peace Officer. I was licensed, commissioned and was now “THE LAW!” I remember driving home that day and juts giggling because I was so happy that I had accomplished my goal. I was overwhelmed with excitement.
Polly and I were doing the typical “break up/divorce” thing and going back and forth, trying to make it work, finding it wasn’t, breaking up again, getting back together again…It was tiresome for the both of us, and no matter how much we wanted it to work, it just wasn’t. This continued for quite a while…
I remember the first day of orientation for the jail… I was trained by a Deputy named Dugan with a few other new deputies and we went through all of the ins and outs of working in the jail environment. The Galveston County Jail, at that time, was on 19th St. in Galveston and was in two sections. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but having an understanding of the layout will help you to understand my time in the jail a little better.
There was the “Old Jail,” which was the standard type of jail you see in older movies and TV shows….Bars on the windows, cell blocks that were basically cages with metal roofs, metal floors and heavy bars to keep the prisoners in. It was five floors tall and had a capacity of about 300 inmates, managed with keys and monitored by “walking the floors” there were only three or four cameras in the “Old Jail”.
There was a “sky bridge” that connected the Old Jail with the New Jail that crossed over a parking lot and driveway to the offices and courthouse. It was built on top of the parking garage for the courthouse and other County Business. The “New Jail” was two level PODS that were made to house 24 inmates in each “POD” and the “PODS were lettered A-H…8 PODS total.
The first floor of the Old Jail was the entrance to the Sheriffs Department, where the Sheriffs Office was, Chief Deputy, Bailiffs, ID division, and general business area of the Sheriffs Department was taken care of. When you walked into the front door of the Sheriffs Department, right in front of you was a little window where you could walk up and check the status of inmates, work out bonds, leave money, sign up for visitation, etc…
Next to this little window was a big green door that was the entrance to the jail and it was the first of three gates you had to get in to enter the jail. You had to either be “popped in” by a monitor behind that window or call on the radio to “Control” to get in these doors.
Once you made your way through these gates, you were now formally “in the jail” and it is a cold, damp, smelly place. It has a smell of pine sol, that medicinal spray for lice, sweat, feet, farts, urine, cigarettes, old booze, and various other body odors….The mingling of all of those scents is one that is hard to explain, but it smelled like any other jail I had even been in, but due to the environment of Galveston, it was worse, MUCH worse!
The first floor was the booking area, if you got arrested; this was the first experience you had of the Galveston County Jail. After the green door and two other gates you made your way into a common area near some steps that would take you up to the upper floors. Just past that common area was the “booking station” and in the office area of the booking station were three deputies, a sergeant, and pre-trial release person and a small bathroom.
It was petitioned off with walls and glass and the glass had a small gap in it so the people in the office area could talk to those outside of that area. The front portion of the booking area had three gates as well that led out to a sally port where patrol units could drive up, get the prisoners from the units and walk into the booking area. There was a gate, then a small seating area for inmates to sit in, another gate, and then another big metal door that went out to the sally port.
In the booking area of the first floor was a room for bags of clothes, benches and then a barred “catwalk” that went down to five different holding tanks. The way the process worked was you came from the sally port, into the sitting area, were un-cuffed, told to sit down and wait, the officer would bring the booking deputies their paperwork and you would be called on when it was your turn. Once the officers dropped off the prisoners, they would go back through the gates and leave.
Once your name was called, you went to the booking station, met with a deputy, gave your information, proceeded to the next deputy who took and stored your belongings and then housed you in one of the holding cells until you were either bonded out of moved upstairs into classification. There was an old elevator in the old jail that you could use to go up to the floors as well as cement steps that went up to the various floors.
If you were moved to classification, you were stripped of all your belongings, issued “jail greens” which were much like heavy duty scrubs with wording on the back that identified you as a “Galveston County Inmate.” From Classification, you were moved to housing cell blocks or “Pods” in the “New Jail”
The second floor was split into two sections one where the women and homosexuals were housed, and the Medical department which housed medically needy inmates It was set up much like the third floor but not nearly as loud and was cleaner. It also housed suicidal inmates and mentally disturbed inmates.
It also had the “visitation area;” as you walked up the stairs to the second floor, there was a large piece of glass that separated the inmates from the visitors…Behind the glass was secured and there were 4-6 phones that the inmates could use to talk to their visitors on the other side. Round the stairs and you would make your way up to the third floor.
One side of the third floor was secured with a large metal door which had to be “buzzed” to get into this area and was where Administrative Segregation was housed. These are the inmates that were the troubled ones in the jail…Fighting, stealing, assaulting deputies, “high risk” etc….If you got in enough trouble as an inmate, you would be housed in this section of the jail eventually.
The Third Floor also housed various gangs…Bloods, Crips, White Supremacists, Mexican Mafia and some double roomed “tanks” that were generally reserved for high risk inmates that were flight or escape risks or simply too dangerous for general population. This floor was a really dangerous floor for both deputies and inmates alike. It was “old school” and was run that way.
On the other side of the third floor were two regular tanks with day rooms and sleeping quarters. This was the “classification” area and there was a small office that housed 4-5 deputies who were assigned to classify inmates as they came into general population. They were classified by race, gender, sexual orientation, gang affiliation, “colors” (tattoos) and various other incidentals to keep the inmate and population, as well as the deputies as safe as possible.
The sleeping quarters of the tanks in the Old Jail would have four to six bunk beds in them and each sleeping area could be secured and locked. Each tank had a different number of sleeping areas and beds. They all had a “day room” where there were metal, “picnic style” tables where the inmates could eat and watch TV or play cards and also had the shower stalls. The toilets were metal, one piece, out in the open and no privacy. Each of the sleeping areas had a toilet and each day room had a toilet. On top of the back of each toilet was a water fountain/faucet.
EVERYTHING in the old jail was metal, cold, damp, and loud…Like one big metal room, sectioned off, contained inside of a large brick building. Inmates would block the lights (which weren’t very bright anyway) with paper or cardboard from toilet paper rolls, or just use big globs of wet toilet paper, so it was dark and difficult to see…
A very depressing place filled with roaches, mice and other parasites. Due to the humidity in Galveston, the damp cold was always an issue and the hot sweltering summers made the smells increase. It was a dirty place and not inviting at all (as a jail should be I guess).
The fourth floor was set up much like the other floors but the housing area was closed for renovations. The other side of the fourth floor was where the kitchen was and we used “trustee’s” in the kitchen to cook the food for both the inmates and the jail deputies. Yes, you read that right…
THE INMATES MADE THE FOOD FOR THE DEPUTIES…
I will just let your mind wander on that one, but I will tell you, I often tell people when they talk about weird foods I try…
“I worked in the jail for 2 years where the inmates cooked our food…Do you think I haven’t eaten gross stuff before?”
And it was the exception to the rule for deputies to bring their own food.
As “jailers” we were hired at about 9.50 an hour in those days, so we used every option we could to save money. Eating the food in the jail was one of those options, and as a matter of fact, unless you were a ranking deputy, you could not go out and get food to eat, you HAD to eat what was cooked in the jail.
Man, it would really upset us to see a Lieutenant coming into the jail at meal time with Wendy’s or Churches…. It almost seemed like they would rub it in your face...Well, a few of the ranking deputies anyway.
The 5th floor was the deputy meeting room and dining room. When you came on for your shift, you all gathered in the dining room for the shift meeting. It was here that incidents of the day and previous shifts were talked about, functions the Sheriffs Department was involved in, risks, and duty assignments were issued. It was also the place where ranking deputies with power trips could enforce their will on you, and they did.
The sky bridge was also on the 5th floor and after shift meeting, the deputies went to their assigned stations and those assigned to the “New Jail” walked across the sky bridge and to their duty stations.
It was generally set up like this…
Two booking deputies, one property deputy, one Sergeant in the old jail, two females deputies on the second floor, one deputy for medical, two deputies assigned to the third floor, a rover/or transport deputy (sometimes two) that would transport inmates to different areas of the jail as those areas needed them, one deputy to a “cockpit” (and a cockpit was like a glass fishbowl overlooking two pods and monitoring inmates from the fish bowl.) If you were lucky, there was a deputy assigned to ”work the floor” of your pods but generally it was one floor deputy for four pods, a controls deputy who monitored all the cameras, radios and popped all the doors that didn’t work with keys in both the new, and the old jail. There was a Sergeant assigned to the new jail one Lieutenant for each shift that moved around the jail.
If I remember right, there were approx 800 inmates in the Galveston County Jail when I started and usually about 20 deputies to control this population. Administrative and classification deputies were there from 9-5 and were never in shift meetings. Generally there were 3 classification deputies and 3 administrative ranking deputies on duty during these hours. Needless to say, we were extremely outnumbered!
The new jail was cleaner, and didn’t smell quite as bad. It had carpeted hallways, rolling mechanical doors for the breezeways and pod entrances and each cell had a mechanical door to secure the inmates in their rooms…Which could be popped open both inside and outside of the room with plastic spoons….There was no “security” inside the pods and the doors to secure the pods, they didn’t roll closed very fast. If something broke loose inside the pod, a force of deputies would stand at the door to hold the inmates back as it secured, and if they threw shoes or bodies in the doorways, the doors would not secure and could be slid open by the inmates. This was not uncommon to happen either
The pods were two levels, 12 rooms per level, a large day room areas, two tiered steps that went up to the second level, attached to the day room was a shower area and two toilets which couldn’t be seen from the cockpit and then 6 round metal tables each with four seats.
There was a “cockpit” that sat above two pods which were separated by a large cinder block wall. The person assigned to the cockpit was to monitor the inmates in the perspective pods and watch for any “strange” behavior or violation of the rules. The two pods were adjoined by a metal door so deputies could move from pod to pod and monitor the inmates. However, this door allowed for inmates to pass paraphernalia, cigarettes, “kites” (or letters) under the doors and was always a pain to monitor.
There was a breezeway on the first floor of the new jail where the entrances to the pods were and on the second floor, there was a breezeway where the deputies could move from cockpit to cockpit. The cockpits consisted of three doors…One to the upper breezeway, and one for each pod you monitored.
Inside the cockpit looked like an airplane…hence “cockpit”…It had a control board with toggle switches to open and close inmates doors which didn’t work most of the time and the inmates used their spoons to get in and out of the rooms anyway. There were red and green lights for each toggle switch to alert you if the door was secure or not. Apparently, at one time, these all worked but when I started, not many of them did.
There was also an intercom system in the cockpit where inmates could push a button in their room and talk to you if they needed something…and they ALWAYS needed something! Luckily, those didn’t work all that great either.
Each door had a small window so inmates could see out, and deputies could see in the cells. It was originally built to house one inmate per room, but by the time I got to work with the Department, the rooms were converted to hold two inmates... by the time I transferred out of the jail, it was three inmates, one on each bunk and one on the floor on a mattress.... EXTREMELY overcrowded! Way outiside of the permaiters issued by the state fro inmate and deputy ratios and I dont think I remember ever passing a State Inspection in those years.
Each room had a small concrete type desk and a toilet that was open in the room; the toilets were the same as the old jail, metal, no moving parts, push button flush and on the back of the toilet, a sink with a water fountain/faucet.
The day room was carpeted but everything else was cinder block or metal…It wasn’t nearly as loud as the old jail, but it was still loud. It wasn’t nearly as stinky as the old jail, but it still stunk, it was a “newer” jail, but it was still a jail and A LOT less secure.
What would happen at shift change is all the inmates had to go to their rooms and “rack down” for the count. The new shift would come on, go to their assigned stations, make their count, call it in to the booking sergeant and wait for the count to clear. If the numbers were matching, then the inmates were released from their cells and allowed to move about the “tanks” (old jail) or pods (new jail).
Once the count was cleared, the general business of the day took place. I was assigned to the “New Jail” on the 2-10 shift and as is with most of the “New Boots” I was assigned to “Fly a cockpit” which is generally, pretty damn boring.
The name “New Boot” is what the inmates called new deputies…Because our boots were always shined and polished and after some time in the field, this important duty would generally fade.
Luckily, at that time, you could smoke in the jail so at least you didn’t have to get relief to smoke a cigarette. As I was trained and the “rules” stated, you weren’t to have reading materials or other things to occupy your time, you were supposed to sit, for 8 hours, and STARE at (or monitor as it was called) the inmates.
THIS WAS NOT what I thought police work was going to be about, but hey, I had a job, and it was a step in the right direction. Plus, the education I would get from this experience was far more valuable to me later than those who had not ever worked the jail.
Much of the lingo and manipulation in the jail takes place on the streets as well and being assigned to the jail gave you 8 hours of direct contact with all the “rules” of this group of people; a very valuable tool as I look back but a tedious and tiring job when I was in it. But the jail was a good place to find if this was for you or not, because if you couldn't handle yourself in the jail, you had no reason to be on the streets...And I encountered plenty of officers in my time that didn't work the jail and would have been weeded out if they had, but worked the streets for various agencies and were incompetent... As with any profession, there were people who really didn't need to be in that profession...But with other professions, the risk isn't life or death... In police work, it is ALWAYS life or death!
I learned very quickly the rules of the game and started to make my way through the process of doing this job. I worked the cockpits for a while, worked the floors for a while and it was always the same old thing. You are constantly tested by the inmates. They are always testing your ability, where your weaknesses are, and then finding ways to manipulate through those weaknesses... You had to be on your toes all the time and you really had to take on a "role" when you started your shift.
How you handled yourself in the jail was not just monitored by the inmates, you were also monitored by your peers and the administration. Your fellow deputies wanted to know they could count on you to have their back, and the administration wanted to make sure you could manage the inmates and not be converted to be a "mule" for them and bring things into the jail for the inmates.
If you ever brought ANYTHING to an inmate, that inmate OWNED you, and I wasn't about to be owned by any of those animals. Not that I wasn't offered... When cigarettes finally became outlawed in the jail, a deputy could make 500.00 for bringing in a carton of cigarettes for an inmate and drugs or other contraband carried more of a monetary value...Very tempting for a deputy with a wife, two kids and house payment making 9.50 and hour...And some did it... And people wonder why police turn...Should be pretty clear huh?
After hearing of stories about deputies coming on duty and being arrested on the floor, in front of the inmates and then down to booking for bringing items in to the jail and to the inmates, I couldn't think of a more humiliating thing...This was not something I ever entertained!
How you handled yourself in the jail was not just monitored by the inmates, you were also monitored by your peers and the administration. Your fellow deputies wanted to know they could count on you to have their back, and the administration wanted to make sure you could manage the inmates and not be converted to be a "mule" for them and bring things into the jail for the inmates.
If you ever brought ANYTHING to an inmate, that inmate OWNED you, and I wasn't about to be owned by any of those animals. Not that I wasn't offered... When cigarettes finally became outlawed in the jail, a deputy could make 500.00 for bringing in a carton of cigarettes for an inmate and drugs or other contraband carried more of a monetary value...Very tempting for a deputy with a wife, two kids and house payment making 9.50 and hour...And some did it... And people wonder why police turn...Should be pretty clear huh?
After hearing of stories about deputies coming on duty and being arrested on the floor, in front of the inmates and then down to booking for bringing items in to the jail and to the inmates, I couldn't think of a more humiliating thing...This was not something I ever entertained!
Life as a Deputy Jailer was so broad... but the tasks that were to be done daily were pretty mundane. Count, un-rack, pass mail, hand out items (which any item can be used as currency in the jail)…Soap, toilet paper, tooth paste, tooth brushes, razors, etc… Feed dinner, transport to various places, monitor the passing of meds with the EMTs in the jail, visitation on selected days, rack down for the next shift, count and go home…In between those tasks, you monitored the pods and get “in the game” of what this sub culture consists of. Break up fights, shake down cells, write up inmates for rules violations, etc…And it is ALL a game! But in all reality, LIFE is all a game… this game had rules all of its own.
Now the game. Your game. The one that only you was meant to play. The one that was given to you when you came into this world. You ready? Take your stance. Don't hold nothing back. Give it everything.
- Bagger Vance~
When fights happened, this was the rush of the job... When it broke loose( and it would... OFTEN) a call would come on the radio...
"FIGHT IN G POD!!"
And immediately the adrenaline push came, the endorphin rush started and every capable body that wasn't assigned to a specific place went running to the fight. There were no "SORT" (Special Operation Response Team) teams in those days...It was deputies facing inmates and generally the weapons we had were flashlights and at that time, night sticks. However, carrying nightsticks was risky because if one of the inmates ever got one of them from you, it would not be pretty... Generally we were outnumbered 6-1 or better so we had to be aware of possibilities, and we had to be ready to administer and agression we were met with.
It was an amazing experience to run to a POD, the sliding door roll open, and have inmates fighting all over in different areas and not knowing where to go first... Like the battles seen on TV in the Colosseum in the times of the Roman Empire, it was really like walking into a large battle... fighting, sreaming, bodies rushing everhwere, and we would open the doors and rush into this... It was that; a HUGE RUSH!!
The idea was to rush in, grab who we thought were the players in the fight, snatch them, drag them out of the POD by any means necessary and, close the door and generally, once the actors were out of the situation, the POD generally calmed down. There were quite a few occasions where the entire POD would be be in one huge riot and we would have to call on Administrative Deputies, Classification Deputies, Bailiffs, ID division deputies...Anyone and everyone available, and even then, we were outnumbered...The only thing that would stop the aggression from the inmates was to see more aggression from the deputies... It was survival... It was insane, and it was our everyday life!
It is a game... A violent, dangerous and sometimes very brutal game...A lot like the game of life but up front, in your face and INTENSE!!
I was witness to people who had hung themselves and at 25 years old, I cut down my first suicide victim who had hung himself from the bars. He was not the last one either. I saw people who had been jumped in the tanks or PODS and beaten with mop buckets...I saw a guy who got jumped onetime for stealing from other inmates...They caught him while he was sleeping and beat him in the head and face with an industrial mop ringer... When I heard the fight, I went to open the door and run in, and this guy that looked like the "elephant man" came running out of the door... Scared me so bad I jumped back as he dove from the attacking inmates and into the floor hallway....He was deformed, beaten and was lucky to be alive.
I saw gang rape victims, witnessed first hand how people are shuffled around as money, jailhouse tattooing, gambling, "tank bosses" and extremes of reality that some just wouldn't believe. My start of time in Law Enforcement was the beginning of the technological age so cameras and monitoring devices weren't used... You had a radio, maybe a flashlight, if you worked the old jail you had keys, and that was it. When it got bad, you better be able to carry your weight and quite possible the weight of others because if you didn't, the possibility of you getting really hurt or killed...Or someone with you getting hurt or killed, this were always very real possibilities... This was not a game for kids to play...It was serious and although we joke about it when we reflect back, it was insane, intense and it didn't take long for it to be "normal."
Its amazing what we as humans can get make "normal."
If you were seen as easily manipulated of weak, the inmates would chew you up and spit you out. They could smell weakness or fear and if you weren't confident in your ability and ability to act, they would know and take every advantage of that. Many, many, many deputies never made it past their first 6 months in the jail... And in all reality, that was fine with me. I wanted the people I worked with to be able to handle themselves when the chips fell.
When fights happened, this was the rush of the job... When it broke loose( and it would... OFTEN) a call would come on the radio...
"FIGHT IN G POD!!"
And immediately the adrenaline push came, the endorphin rush started and every capable body that wasn't assigned to a specific place went running to the fight. There were no "SORT" (Special Operation Response Team) teams in those days...It was deputies facing inmates and generally the weapons we had were flashlights and at that time, night sticks. However, carrying nightsticks was risky because if one of the inmates ever got one of them from you, it would not be pretty... Generally we were outnumbered 6-1 or better so we had to be aware of possibilities, and we had to be ready to administer and agression we were met with.
It was an amazing experience to run to a POD, the sliding door roll open, and have inmates fighting all over in different areas and not knowing where to go first... Like the battles seen on TV in the Colosseum in the times of the Roman Empire, it was really like walking into a large battle... fighting, sreaming, bodies rushing everhwere, and we would open the doors and rush into this... It was that; a HUGE RUSH!!
The idea was to rush in, grab who we thought were the players in the fight, snatch them, drag them out of the POD by any means necessary and, close the door and generally, once the actors were out of the situation, the POD generally calmed down. There were quite a few occasions where the entire POD would be be in one huge riot and we would have to call on Administrative Deputies, Classification Deputies, Bailiffs, ID division deputies...Anyone and everyone available, and even then, we were outnumbered...The only thing that would stop the aggression from the inmates was to see more aggression from the deputies... It was survival... It was insane, and it was our everyday life!
It is a game... A violent, dangerous and sometimes very brutal game...A lot like the game of life but up front, in your face and INTENSE!!
I was witness to people who had hung themselves and at 25 years old, I cut down my first suicide victim who had hung himself from the bars. He was not the last one either. I saw people who had been jumped in the tanks or PODS and beaten with mop buckets...I saw a guy who got jumped onetime for stealing from other inmates...They caught him while he was sleeping and beat him in the head and face with an industrial mop ringer... When I heard the fight, I went to open the door and run in, and this guy that looked like the "elephant man" came running out of the door... Scared me so bad I jumped back as he dove from the attacking inmates and into the floor hallway....He was deformed, beaten and was lucky to be alive.
I saw gang rape victims, witnessed first hand how people are shuffled around as money, jailhouse tattooing, gambling, "tank bosses" and extremes of reality that some just wouldn't believe. My start of time in Law Enforcement was the beginning of the technological age so cameras and monitoring devices weren't used... You had a radio, maybe a flashlight, if you worked the old jail you had keys, and that was it. When it got bad, you better be able to carry your weight and quite possible the weight of others because if you didn't, the possibility of you getting really hurt or killed...Or someone with you getting hurt or killed, this were always very real possibilities... This was not a game for kids to play...It was serious and although we joke about it when we reflect back, it was insane, intense and it didn't take long for it to be "normal."
Its amazing what we as humans can get make "normal."
If you were seen as easily manipulated of weak, the inmates would chew you up and spit you out. They could smell weakness or fear and if you weren't confident in your ability and ability to act, they would know and take every advantage of that. Many, many, many deputies never made it past their first 6 months in the jail... And in all reality, that was fine with me. I wanted the people I worked with to be able to handle themselves when the chips fell.
I moved around all the positions of the new jail and worked all the stations…Cockpits, floors, transport, hospital transport, controls, visitation and I was even assigned to train new deputies as they came on board; but the old jail was the place I prefeered to be. It was a good fit!
Then one day, MAGIC walked into “E Pod” and my life again was eternally changed…
“E-Pod” doors rolled open and the deputy in the pod said …
“Golden, have you seen this new EMT they have in here, look at her….”
I looked down into the pod, through the fishbowl glass and in walked this beautiful blond young woman. She was dressed in Rocky jeans (all the craze then) a colorful t-shirt and high top tennis shoes…She was BEAUTIFUL and I was smitten!
“Man, she is hot isn’t she?”
And I watched her and just nodded…I had to meet this girl.
Polly and I were still back and forth, not doing well, really just hanging on by a thread and then this gorgeous woman walks into my life in the Galveston County Jail… I had to meet her.
I went out of the cockpit and down to the floor where the deputy was with this girl as she passed meds. I needed to get a closer look at her and as I walked to where they were standing, she became even more beautiful.
I walked up to the deputy, made small talk, while I intently stared at this woman standing there… I didn’t introduce myself but I was trying to be sly, smooth, and cool!!
She passed the meds in the pod and they walked to the next pod as I watched them walk away. I had to find out more about this girl.
I asked around about her, and found out her name was Donna and people gave me details…
“She is married, has three kids, lives up in Houston somewhere….”
And when I heard the married with kids, I was devastated…But she still just captured me, I had to meet her.
A few days later, I was assigned to do med rounds and it was Donna who I was escorting around. We met in the inmate breezeway of the new jail where she waited on me with her med cart; I was in controls at the time and watched her on the cameras as she made her way to the new jail. She got to the breezeway, called on the intercom to have someone meet her, and I volunteered and went to where she was. I walked up, introduced myself and walked with her on her rounds.
She was beautiful…Green eyes, blond hair, perfect smile and lips, like I said, I was smitten and became even moresoe every time I saw her.
I made rounds with her a few more times, talked to her when I would transport inmates to medical and started to get to know her…We were becoming friends.
Not long after our first meeting, I started to ask about working the old jail and wanted to work Medical…Mostly so I could be near Donna. It wasn’t long, my request was granted, and I started to train in Medical.
Man, this was a huge shift from the New Jail. Medical was completely different than any other section of the jail. It housed difficult inmates with multitudes of medical problems and mental disorders and little did I know what would unfold from working in this department. What I knew was I was going to be closer to Donna and be able to get to know her better.
The old Jail was even more brutal than the new jail and although it was much more secure, it was much more dangerous. This was where the violent inmates were housed, the inmates with mental disorders that were either waiting to go to state hospitals or were juuuuussst under the standards for admittance to mental facilities. There were different rules in the old jail and because there was virtually no technology in the old jail, the deputies were virtually alone or maybe with one partner. The dictatorship of the New Jail where cameras monitored every minute and a deputy monitoring every move was not the "status quo" of the old jail.
In the old jail you had to establish relationships with the inmates. You had to work off of respect and even a bit of trust. You manipulated what you wanted done with food trays, soap and toilet paper. You had to form more of a kinship with the inmates and if you didn't, the old jail would stir up in no time and when the old jail got rockin'... You better hang on because the fights and brutality in the old jail were always more severe than in the new jail...
Many times, things that took place in the old jail in regards to discipline or direction were done without the administrative structure of the new jail. Respect, craziness and being "straight up" went a looong way in the old jail... same game, different rules... I LOVED the old jail!
For the next year and a half, I primarily worked either medical or 3rd floor in the old jail and I really found my niche here. Rules made by the deputies and the inmates worked so much better than rules made by those who either never really worked the floors or who had been so detached so long from the floors, they had forgotten how the game was played. We still had to use the jail "rules" but we could manipulate them for peace much more effectively than in the new jail.
The old Jail was even more brutal than the new jail and although it was much more secure, it was much more dangerous. This was where the violent inmates were housed, the inmates with mental disorders that were either waiting to go to state hospitals or were juuuuussst under the standards for admittance to mental facilities. There were different rules in the old jail and because there was virtually no technology in the old jail, the deputies were virtually alone or maybe with one partner. The dictatorship of the New Jail where cameras monitored every minute and a deputy monitoring every move was not the "status quo" of the old jail.
In the old jail you had to establish relationships with the inmates. You had to work off of respect and even a bit of trust. You manipulated what you wanted done with food trays, soap and toilet paper. You had to form more of a kinship with the inmates and if you didn't, the old jail would stir up in no time and when the old jail got rockin'... You better hang on because the fights and brutality in the old jail were always more severe than in the new jail...
Many times, things that took place in the old jail in regards to discipline or direction were done without the administrative structure of the new jail. Respect, craziness and being "straight up" went a looong way in the old jail... same game, different rules... I LOVED the old jail!
For the next year and a half, I primarily worked either medical or 3rd floor in the old jail and I really found my niche here. Rules made by the deputies and the inmates worked so much better than rules made by those who either never really worked the floors or who had been so detached so long from the floors, they had forgotten how the game was played. We still had to use the jail "rules" but we could manipulate them for peace much more effectively than in the new jail.
Before long, working medical, Donna and I grew to be very close friends. She had graduated from the fire academy at the same college I went to and she too was in a rocky marriage. She was a lot like me…Unsure, confused, looking for a way out of her marriage but so scared of the unknown that it kept her tied to this guy.
As she explained to me, he was 12 years older than her, found her at a barn when she was 16 years old where she was spending all her time…She absolutely loves horses…Had a complete obsession for them; and still does…
Funny huh, horses back in my life again, even if I was somewhat detached from them directly.
She had her first daughter quickly after her marriage to this guy and the other two followed pretty closely She had a couple of horses, was a true country girl and had lived a COMPLETELY different life than I had.
She had never done a drug, never smoked a cigarette, drank twice, been drunk once, never danced, been to a bar one time in her life, and was VERY sheltered from the world I was use to… her husband was very controlling, had to know where she was and what she was doing all the time, called her 10-15 times a shift to check on her, couldn’t stand that she was working and wanted her to be barefoot and pregnant and a stay at home mom catering to all his needs… She was not happy!
As our bond grew, my relationship with Polly was getting worse (if that was possible) and I was on the verge of moving out and moving in with my parents on the beach…I just was so scared to jump off that ledge and experience life differently…This life with Polly was all I knew, and as dysfunctional as it was, it was security and at 25 years old, after all I had been through, security was a powerful thing!
“Shop for security over happiness, and we buy it at that price”
~Richard Bach~
It was clear that the attraction I had for Donna was reciprocated, but we both wanted to be in integrity with our spouses and our marriage…
Well, she wanted it more than I did…I was at a point that I didn’t care all that much and in all reality, I wasn’t ever all that loyal to Polly anyway…Like I said, we weren’t very nice to each other and well, as I have explained, I was nothing but a punk thug kid and I was a professional in all aspects of that identification.
I started to make advances to Donna and she was always resistant…She never would give in…but I was persistent…VERY persistent!
She was always cold in the jail, and I would always offer her my jacket, put it on her, walk up beside her and rub her arms to keep her warm…When we would talk, she would rub her hands together all the time and my hands were always warm (especially when I was around her) so I would take her hands in my hands and warm them up… I was attentive to her as she would talk about her struggles with her husband and was genuinely interested in her and her well being.
This flirtation grew and it wasn’t long before I was trying to get her to kiss me…She would always refuse and tell me she couldn’t and then 15 minutes later tell me how she couldn’t stop thinking of me when she was away from me…Our little attraction was growing and growing…and again, I was VERY persistent.
One day, after 150 or more rejections for a kiss, we were alone in the medical department and I locked the doors so no one could walk in…I walked up to her and said…
“Come on Donna, one little kiss…just one…”
And I made an over exaggerated pucker, leaned towards her with my eyes closed, as I got close to her, jokingly opened one eye, she giggled at me, leaned in and at the last second, turned away…
“Brad, I can’t do that!”
POW!! I had her now…It was just a matter of time!! This was the first actual response to one of my advancements and I knew it was the beginning…
Some time passed, and as it did, her infatuation with me was growing and mine of her as well. Pagers were all the rage and we had little codes that we would text to each other when we were apart to let each other know we were thinking of each other. She would come to work and say…
“Brad, we have to stop this…You are on my mind all the time… I cant stop thinking about you…I am married, this cant happen!”
And I felt the same way!
“Donna, you are unhappy, I am unhappy, and its clear we would be happy together…Lets just make it happen!”
“No Brad, I just can’t…”
And this went on for a little while…maybe a week or two… Then one night, I asked her to meet me after work…meet me at the end of 17th Street, on the Seawall, at a bench that was there for people to sit and watch the crowds or the waves…a cool little spot.
“Meet you??? For what???”
“Just to chat, away from the jail, hang out, spend time together alone…Not long, just a little while.”
“I don’t know, my husband expects me home at a certain time…I don’t think I can.”
“Donna, you know you can…30 minutes…that’s all…Just 30 minutes”
“Hmmmmm, OK, I will call him and tell him I am working late. I will meet you there after you get off.”
WOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOO!!!
That night, I met Donna at the end of 17th street and Seawall Blvd, on a bench, watching the waves roll in, and it was here that she finally gave in.
We chatted and talked for a while and then she said...
“I need to get going…My husband is expecting me and I can’t be late”
“OK, I will walk you to your car.”
Donna drove a green ford explorer at that time, I walked her over to the drivers door, thanked her for meeting me and hanging out, and then our eyes locked…
I leaned in, she leaned in, and it was our first kiss…It was fantastic! My heart was racing, I was overwhelmed and she kissed me with a passion I had never experienced before. I thought I was smitten before, I was really smitten now!
That night, after we met on the Seawall, I went home, packed my belongings and told Polly I was moving out, that it was over, that I wanted a divorce and I was going to get it started. She was pissed and told me...
“Fine, get the fuck out…I don’t love you anyway.”
And continued with all the hurtful things that one says to another when they split…it was ugly, and I left.
I made it to the beach house about 2:00 in the morning with my parents waiting for me to arrive. This would be my new home for a while…Back at the beach house and living with my parents. My self worth was not doing so well at this time. I had not lived with my parents since I was 18 years old…I was 25, had a decent job, a house, a car, and was back living with my folks…
I saw Donna that next day and told her what had taken place, and she said that she had basically made the decision to leave her husband as well, but she didn’t have a place to go.
Not long after that, she worked out a place to stay with a female Deputy, Cheryl, and she moved out… Then we both had the experience of “divorce” and I could go into great lengths about what this was like, but after all these years working with people, it was no different than 99% of other divorces….
Ugly, bitter, attacking, spiteful, belittling… A constant battle, but I was on the easy end of this war, I didn’t have any children in the middle…
Donna however, she did and her husband was consistently using her kids against her….It was so brutal and what he still, to this day, doesn’t understand, is that the only people he really hurt with all of that was the kids. Sadly, many, many parents don’t ever realize this and in the long run, it’s the kids who always suffer from the selfishness of adults.
Luckily kids are resilient, but what people don’t understand is that when kids are little, the choices YOU make in those times directly affects them later in life… it is an absolute! Remember that!
“The paths our children walk in life are determined by the hands that offer them guidance…”
Aside from all the divorce and break up drama, Donna and I were really hitting it off. I was able to take her to experience a whole different side of the world she had never seen. I had started drinking again before we got together and was actively back in the clubs. The 2-10 shifts are the PARTY shift and it was PERFECT for me!
(This is me, Donna and a life long friend Brett... Her first time at a bar.... Her Birthday!)
The shift ended at 10:00, out at the bars until 2:00…I knew the inner workings of the “bar life” so I got to know the bartenders, and many times, we would be in the bars until 3-4 am or at some other deputies place until sunup and then go to bed, back up at noon and at shift meeting at 1:45 to do it all over again.
Now I was “THE MAN” and all that trouble I had when I was younger, it rolled back pretty quickly, but now I had a “get out of jail free card”…a badge!
Donna, aside from the drama, was having a ball. She was being introduced to a whole new world and one thing I think that has kept us together all these years is her excitement about the new and unknown…It might not be as equal to mine, but she loves it too so we balance each other out… I get out too far, and she pulls back the reins…She gets out too far into an area I know isn’t safe, I pull back the reins…balance!
“Man maintains his balance, poise, and sense of security only as he is moving forward.”
~Maxwell Maltz~
We were a good fit and we were really enjoying each others time together. She was, and has always been a very special woman, always liked, eager to please and open to whatever comes her way. An inspiration as a partner, a mother and a friend… I am blessed!
It wasn’t long before we got us a little place on the beach…A small 2 bedroom one bath house, in Crystal Beach, about three rows back from the water. It was nothing special, both of us gave up everything we had to our spouses to simply break free of all of it, and the only thing I did have was a couch and my grandmas old dining room table.
The beach house we rented had rent house beds with no headboards, we got our towels and linens from garage sales and friends, dishes, utensils and other necessities the same way, and once again, I was starting over…fresh, new, but the honeymoon wasn’t going to last!
Donna was accepted to the Houston Fire Academy and I was getting a taste of what freedom was from marriage and I wasn’t really ready to settle back down.
Donna and I split, I went wild and crazy and she focused on the Fire Academy. She moved off the beach and into an apartment with a friend, and I was back at my parents house, living with them again, and partying like a rock star again…without the drugs this time.
I wanted to live it up…I was drinking again, was getting cockier with every day I was working in the jail, had spent 9 months in Medical and was now assigned to the third floor and met Rudy…
“Charming people live up to the very edge of their charm and behave as outrageously as the world will let them.”
~Logan Pearsall Smith~
And if there was one thing BOTH Rudy and I had, it was CHARM!
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