A Visit to the Jail

A friend of mine is in jail. He is the only person I have ever been friends with who has spent more than a night or two behind bars. I will call him Hal.

I met Hal quite a few years ago at a golf club where we both used to play. He was a much better player than I, and was kind enough to help a neophyte conquer the initially frustrating techniques a beginning golfer must learn, so he can move along to the next set of frustrating techniques.

Hal was a salesman and did a lot of business on the golf course. He was a natural comic, fast with a bawdy joke told with a big smile, which revealed bright white teeth framed by a deep golden golfer’s tan. The kind of guy who women gravitate toward at a party. He was engaged twice, but slipped the rope both times. He was also a drunk. His favorite line was “I always stop drinking for a month every year. February, the shortest month.” This was his attempt to manage his alcoholism.

It didn’t work. Hal was stopped for DUI a couple of years ago. Then he was stopped again, and his license was suspended. And then it happened. Police spotted his car late at night as he headed home from a bar. They ran the plates and discovered the suspended license. Bottom line…. he was driving drunk for the third time and with a suspended license. The judge gave him fourteen months in jail.

Guys like Hal have a lot of buddies, and his close ones show up with regularity for jail visits. But after a few months, and with better weather warming golf courses, his closer buds started calling his less close buds. That’s when my phone rang.

Hal’s close friend: “Bob you don’t know me but I’m a friend of Hal’s.”
Me: Right.
Friend: ”Hal, as you know, is a guest of the state and could really use some new company. Several of us trade off seeing him on the weekends, but to be honest, we’ve got this traveling game that in two weekends is at Myrtle Beach, and to make a long story short, can we count on you to go see Hal?”
Me: Sure.

Can we count on you? Very clever. What kind of guy wants to be known as a man who can’t be counted on? What kind of guy would turn his back on some poor schlub who was in a miserable cell with God know who in the next bunk.  I had not seen Hal in several years, but off I went for a weekend in another city, in another state, for my first visit inside a jail.

I found the place without any trouble.  It was just on the outskirts of town. Visiting hours were one to three, and I sat in the parking lot for about an hour thinking about how a guy I used to ride in a golf cart with could find himself here. Golf course restaurants generally have pretty mediocre food, but I’ll bet Hal would give about anything for a ham and cheese sandwich, fries and an Arnold Palmer Lemonade. I also thought about what to say to him. “How are you?” seemed ridiculous. He might be too embarrassed to talk about what he is going through.  Maybe I’ll tell him about my life. My girlfriend, and my trip to Maine coming up. Get his mind off of where is. No! That is stupid! Why would I talk about women and travel to a guy living behind bars with other men!! As I walked toward the entrance to the jail I had no idea how I was going to fill the next two hours.

From my car in the lot the facility looked no more threatening than a middle school. But as I got nearer, the razor wire above the metal fencing became more obvious and serious. The quiet of the countryside was broken now and then by a shout, or a metal door slamming shut. I admit, I was a little uneasy.

I opened the double door to the office area and walked into a surprisingly small room that again had a middle school feel to it. In the right corner of the room was a large window with a sheriff’s deputy leaning against the counter. Not that big a guy. About 28 or so. His face wore a mask that said “I’ve seen and heard enough B.S. for a life time. I don’t care what you brought, what you forgot, or how you feel. Here, we go by the book.” He gave me a form to fill out.

“You can sit over there,” he said, motioning toward a bank of gray plastic chairs set against a beige cement block wall. On the opposite wall was a rudimentary mural that covered the entire wall. It was done in gaudy, almost psychedelic colors, and depicted several people walking up a golden hill. Each of the people was either Hispanic or African-American. Along the sides of the golden road was a school, smiling family members, a church and for some reason bikes and birds. The only white face was a middle-age man giving a diploma to a Hispanic appearing male. Political correctness had not made much of an impression here.

I filled out the form which basically explained who I was, and sat down on the gray plastic chair. In a couple of minutes an older guard poked his head from behind the counter and growled at me, “You need to wait outside.” I shot up and went out to lean against the brick wall. In a few minutes other visitors started to arrive. They were closer to the actual time we would be let in. First, an African-American family. I guessed a brother, mother and grandmother.  Then a very pretty brunette woman about twenty-five and a little blond girl I thought to be her daughter. After that around ten to fifteen other people showed up representing a cross section of today’s America.

After about thirty minutes we were one by one called inside. I was asked to pull out the pockets of my pants and walk through a metal detector. Then I walked into a small space where I was sealed, as the sliding metal door closed behind me. A second door opened where another young sheriff’s deputy with the same “I don’t need to hear it” face greeted me. He searched me and directed me to a room about the size of a company lunchroom. More gray plastic chairs ringed it. I sat and waited for my friend. First to the room was a white guy who I guess was the husband of the pretty brunette. Then it was Hal. Another deputy walked him in. I must say this was handled with as much respect as one could hope for, given the situation. Hal was wearing street clothes, jeans and a light blue short-sleeved shirt. He waved and smiled when he saw me.

“How ya doin?” Hal asked, in a relaxed surprisingly happy tone.
“I’m great, thanks,” I said.
“Thanks for coming, I know this sucks, blowing a weekend.”
“No, it’s fine, I found a great little mom and pop place for breakfast.”

We talked non-stop for two hours, and he did most of the talking. He told me about the second week when a new cellmate went nuts and started screaming at him at three am. The guy took off all his clothes and for no reason kept throwing a small chair at Hal. Then he grabbed Hal’s small radio and shoved it up his own butt. It was three days before they moved the guy. And the other prisoners thought Hal snitched, so when he would walk down a hallway the occasional fist would meet his face or shoulder. He spoke of working hour after hour in the kitchen. This business of lying around a cell all day and reading was not a part of Hal’s life. I won’t disclose anymore of our time together other than to say he told me this….

“I will never, ever allow myself to be in this situation again. Most of these people are drug addicts. They have never held a job for more than a few weeks at a time. They have no life-skills. I volunteer to help them understand how to fill out a tax form and a job application. It is impossible to sleep at night. I have a hearing problem and no one cares. The noise is unreal and I am worried about my other ear.”

I listened for two hours. When I was ready to leave we stood up and I hugged him. He seemed resolved to his situation and to turn his life around. I also think he put on his best upbeat face for me.

“You see that hot looking girl there” referring to the brunette with the child. “That’s her husband, not a bad guy. We go to the AA meetings together. He’s a cokehead.”

I looked at the brunette. Her eyes had a distant anger; her face revealed resentment that life landed her here with a child, at her age, with her beauty. Her husband wore a wide smile as he tickled his daughter’s chin. She stared through the window looking for some life that didn’t exist.

I told Hal I would return in a few weeks, and I will. His jailer led him away for more work in the kitchen. He smiled and waved at the exit of the room. At nine tonight his day will end and he will fall asleep on the hard bed with a blanket for a pillow. Screams and shouts will ring throughout the night. The prison soundtrack.

Be careful, Paris. Be careful Lindsay, Britney, and Nicole. You are but a party or two away from the same fate. In an equal America.

Comments

[dm4dogs]

Hi Bob. Great job. Excellent story. My brother was riding his motorcycle, 2 miles from home stopped at a red light, when a drunk driver hit him from behind doing 50 mph. Thank God my brother lived, but not until after he had been pronounced dead twice, once at the scene and again at the emer room of the hospital. They were able to bring him back both times. The perp got 5 years in prison. It was the last of his many DUI's and his 4th alcohol-related accident. Jail absolutely is the right place for people who drink and drive. I sincerely hope Hal sticks with AA and kicks the booze all together. His life, or your loved one's may depend on it.

[Marissa]

Bob, I am SO proud of you! That was very well written and it even made me laugh a few times. Keep up the good work and I hope to read another blog from you soon!

[Ally]

hey daddy...enjoyed your story...the next one really should be about me...thanks bye love you

[Nannette]

Bob:

the blog was great as I knew it would be. Well done, keep it up.

Will be in Maine also soon.

[Jaime]

Bob,
Good job on posting your first blog! It was a very personal and well written story. The very last line was an interesting tie current events. I (luckily) have never known anyone close in jail and can only imagine how uncomfortable it must be going in there as a visitor. You are a good person. Hopefully your friend will be able to recover from his alcohol addiction.

[Janet]

Hi Bob,

So now you had a taste of what a prison feels like. It is such an interesting place. I worked in a correction facility for about 8 months, and the only thing I had a hard time with was the metal doors. Each time you would walk through a set of doors, they would slam and you would hear it echo for a few seconds. That is such an uneasy feeling.
It was great of you to go visit your friend. Some of these inmates don't get any visitors. It makes their time a very loney time. Many of them have burned their bridges so there isn't anyone for them to turn to. It sounds like "Hal" has learned his lesson about his drinking and jail time. Sometimes that is what is needed for a wake up call. Give my best to your friend "Hal". God has blessed him, and he will be fine.

[Cori]

Well written, Bob. I am happy that you decided to blog. I have been a huge fan of many years. I can't wait until radio station here in Central PA pick up you guys again.

[Micheline]

bob~ that's an amazing story. it is sad that it takes going to jail to wake your friend up out the darkness he's been living in. i wish him the best and hope he can remain sober and never have to go back there again. when it comes to these so called "role models", paris, nicole, etc. i think they are pathetic and i hope the justice system treats them the same way the rest of us get treated. i believe in giving someone a chance, but not over & over again, because one has money. continue blogging, you are really good at it!

[Cindy D]

Bob, I would like to say what you wrote is so true. I know the feeling of that woman. I have 3 children and have been to the jail many times with them to see my husband. I know that it is very hard for them to understand why he was in there and why he wasn't coming home with us. I had to go through that so many times and finally the last time it happened, I told my husband I wasn't going to go through this anymore. I put up with it for 7 years and it has to end.
I just wanted to say that you what you wrote was very good and I will continue to write in your blog.
And I will continue to listen to you and sheri in the morning on my way to work. Thank you for the laughs and the tears.

[Doris]

This story is one with truth and the final reality. Hal seems to be taking the punishment day by day. He is paying for his disease, I don't know how it could ever be done, but Rehabilitation seems to be the only way, NO OPTION for signing yourself out. Put someone in charge who has been there and has continued to be a recovering addict.
Your comment about the STARS at the end is honest. I am DISGUSTED with the difference between real people and the PEOPLE MAGAZINE cover addicts. If only the judge in these cases would set examples of the rich and famous for our average alcholics or addicts. The legal system bends the rules for socialite repeat offenders, sentencing should be mandatory no matter your status, star or average joe. Some day I hope the legal system will make it mandatory that repeat offenders be jailed and sentenced to a rehabilitation center, with the PROVEN RESULTS.

[Calli]

Great Writing Bob! I lost a good friend to a drunk driver and also saw what alcohol and 3 DUIs did to my own father before he managed to quit drinking. It appears your friend may have learned the hard way but he learned and no one will die because he had to have another drink and then thought he could drive home. I agree with you about Paris and Nicole. Let's hope more judges are like the one Paris had and they start cracking down on these young startlets instead of letting them buy their way thru arrest after arrest. Keep blogging!

[Doly]

Wow! What an amazing story Bob. Even if a person doesn't drink, it really puts things in perspective. Very touching story. I enjoyed it very much. Keep up the good blog work! I also listen to you and Sheri every morning. You are great to wake up to!

[Angie]

So Bob, when is YOUR book coming out? You embroidered that story very well, Steinbeck! :oP

[Carla]

I felt like I was there too. Great blog!

[sue]

Great job on that story, Bob. Loved the ending sentence too. And, who knew you were such a great writer? Looking forward to a future book from you now!

[Piglet]

my god, my first post collected like NO COMMENTS. i guess it's b/c you are famous :)

great story, love your writing. tell us the truth, you really wrote sheri's books didn't you? hee. joke. sheri is my hero on the girl side and you my hero on the boy side.

[Brad]

Very well done.

[Bunnie]

So have you gone back to see Hal? How is he? I feel like I am invested in this now... Give us a Hal update.

[Dottie]

I loved your story. I had a baby daddy that was a drug user and I went to see him in the prisons (yes that is plural). He would always tell me when he was in prison that he was a changed man but as soon as he would be out for about 3 months he would go back to the same old thing. I hope and pray that Hal will be a changed man when he gets out. Prison isn't easy but neither is this world out here. It just makes me mad that someone in prison can have cable tv, 3 meals a day, a warm place to sleep, health care, etc. Most people in prison go back several times because they just can't handle real responsibilities. They get out and discover how hard it is out here with nothing guaranteed so they commit another crime so that they can go back to prison and be taken care of. I don't mean to be so bitter about prisons it's just I'm a single parent that can't get no help from anyone including the govenment in order to get health insurance, food, and other things needed for my children but we can make sure that these people that commit crimes are taken better care of then the children of our country. Besides that your blog was great. I love your show with Sheri. I have been a listener for 7 years. Keep up the good work.

[AmBeR]

dude bob man u guys rock well i left a comment on sheris lil thingy and it was ment fer the both of u so u should have her read it to u yea like i said im a gonna go watch superbad and yea u guys have fun bein u lol omg if u only new me u would think ur normal lets just say im a unique person my style is my own and iv learned that thats ok to be who u r and never give up ur dreams and hopes things always get better

amber out

[AmBeR]

ok sorry to bug u again but seriously wuts up with the lil enter this code so atomatic robots dont post comment seriously robots RoBoTs r totally gonna post comments and if they want to let them itll be funny to see wut a rObOt would have to say about all this stuff lol well yea love u guys

amber out (movies startin)

woot woot!!

[Kathy Parker]

I remember you from twentey years ago from Myrtle Beach when you were doing a story for PM magazine with Mora Quinn. I can see you haven't changed one bit over the years. You are still as shallow as ever. You talk too much about yourself and about the women in your life, like they owe you. First you run your wife Gigi down about how she never cooked or cleaned, then about how you compaired yourself to some famous star you girlfriend use to date, I think it was Robert Denero. There was someone eles after her and now Meridith. I can see how you can't stay in a relationship long because you try to make everything about you. You're just a man who needs attention and can't get it any other way besides bragging on yourself. Other people do have life besides you. Let them have the spotlight for a little while. And all the botox in the world that you have put in your face will not make you look any better. Grow up.

[Amy]

Hey Bob just wanted to let you know how sexy you sound on the radio. You turn me on every morning I listen to you. I finally saw your picture and let me just say mmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!! You make my morning. With love, and respect yours truly AMY.

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