My bed at Orlando

On Friday, November 5th (I believe), I was transferred from Brevard back to the Orlando Reception Center. This time was no different from any other time I’ve been transferred. They shackled us, strip-searched us, pretty much the normal stuff.

When I got to Orlando, they gave me a bed roll with my sheets and blanket and assigned me a cell.

I went to my cell and when I walked in, I looked at my mat and it looked like somebody was stabbed to death on it. I mean the whole mat is covered in what looks like dried blood. It’s so gross. I can’t think of anything else it might be, but all I know is I stay awake thinking about it. Ehhh.

A Thanksgiving surprise

I called Lancaster C.I. on Tuesday, November 24th and asked if they had received my visitation form yet. They hadn’t. I had mailed a form to Brevard on November 3rd and another to Lancaster on November 20th. Visitation forms could take up to 30 days to process.

The next day, I phoned Lancaster again at 11 a.m., hoping that they received my form and I might be able to visit Ted on Thanksgiving. I prayed a lot for that over the past week! They told me to call back at 1 p.m.

I called again at 1 p.m. I pretty much had given up hope that I’d be able to visit Ted on Thanksgiving, but thought I might get to visit him on Christmas.

I was transferred to Ted’s classification officer. She was extremely nice. She told me she had received the form and took the time to process it and to conduct the background check right over the phone! I now would be able to visit Ted on Thanksgiving Day!

I hurriedly packed. Before leaving, I checked the mail and found a letter from Ted. He had enclosed four more visitation forms. I knew he would have no clue whatsoever that I was coming!

I reserved a room at a small motel outside of Trenton and drove the six miles to Lancaster to make sure I could find it in the morning.

I was up very early the next day and got to the prison promptly at 9 a.m. Visitation hours were 9 a.m. until 3 p.m., although visitors could arrive at 8:15. I soon found out why someone would want to get there early. It took 45 minutes to process the initial visitation and 15 minutes more for Ted to arrive at the visitation room.

I finally saw Ted in person for the first time in 13 months! (At the county jail, we visited on a video monitor and even then, the last video visitation was on September 9th.)

Boy was he surprised! We were allowed to hug once at the start of the visit and once at the end of the visit. I stayed from 10 a.m. until 3 p.m.

Ted asked if I could come the next day too, so I got another room at a different motel (which was cheaper and nicer) and arrived the next day at 8:15 a.m. We visited on Friday from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m.

We talked for 11 hours over those two days! I found out a lot of information and heard some pretty horrific stories, which Ted will write about.

Both of us feel a whole lot better now.

A bad week for someone else too

Here at the Orlando Reception Center, I’m not the only one watching his back this week. (See previous entry.)

In my pod, there is one guy that supposedly snitched on a gang member at another camp. As it turns out, somebody recognized him.

Ever since certain people found out, they’ve been discussing what they should do. After a day of contemplating, they decided to poke him up (stab him). They made a shank and all.

I’m not sure when they’re going to do this, but supposedly it’s a for sure thing. The only fact I know for certain is they made a shank for just that purpose.

All I can do for him is pray. He thinks he might leave on the same bus as me and for his sake, I do too.

A lot of people have 10 years or more and wouldn’t mind doing the job.

Please pray for him also.

It turns out the young man did not leave on the same bus as Ted. At this time, it’s not known what happened to him.

Photo: A collection of confiscated prison shanks (Click photo to enlarge.)

A bad week

Today is November 17th and I’m here at the Orlando Reception Center a week longer than I thought I’d be. I guess the prison didn’t do transfers last Wednesday because of Veteran’s Day, so hopefully I’ll be leaving in the morning.

This last week has been one of the worst weeks so far. As it turns out, somebody found out that I used to be in a gang, so immediately I had a target on my head.

I was approached by five or six Blood gang members and they questioned me about my status. I told them that I folded my flag, but that made them even more mad. Then they told me to spit my knowledge, so I did. I’m not sure why, but they got angry. I think because I know more than them. I’m just guessing though.

Their questioning ended with them telling me they were going to jump me with locks in socks. So of course I got worried, but I still stuck around. I figured I’d be better off than if I ran and told a CO. So for the last week, I’ve been watching behind me more than in front of me.

After a week though, I’ve come to the conclusion that they’re not about that. I showed them I wasn’t scared of them, so I think I’m going to be okay.

Plus I’ll be leaving in the morning most likely, so I’m done worrying about it.

Letter dated November 5, 2009

Hiya Mom,

Sorry I haven’t written you in two weeks, but I haven’t had a pen.

This morning I was transferred back to Orlando and next week I’ll be going to Lake Butler for a week or two until I go to another camp. I’ll probably be going to either Lancaster or Lake City. Both are up in North Florida.

You said in your last letter that somebody was stabbed at Brevard in 2003. Well that may be true, but there has been a lot more since then also. It’s nothing but gang violence everywhere.

So even though Lancaster and Lake City are farther away, it’s safer. Plus I want to try to go to the work camp at Lancaster. It’ll be more laid back there and nobody is trying to get in trouble.

Right now I have 20 stamped envelopes left. I somehow lost 15 on my way here. Just so you know.

Also, I am sending five blogs I wrote before I went in the box and another I wrote in the box, so you should get 10 blogs altogether. I’m also sending a visitation form. It’s from Brevard, so I don’t know if it’s any good. If you can, try to call Lake Butler and find out. I wouldn’t see why it’s not any good. They all have to go to Tallahassee anyway. I’ll get more at my next main camp just in case.

Oh yea, my classification officer said to have you make copies of the visitation form. She said that’s okay.

Last but not least, I’m working on my phone list, but I can’t turn it in until I get my telephone pin number. I’m going to try to do that at Lake Butler. Ahhh, it’s so hard to get things done.

Anyway, I’m going to answer all those questions you asked me when I get to my next main camp.

Love you and miss you and I hope I can see you soon.

Love Teddy

P.S. I never did get those books and probably won’t.

I mailed visitation forms back to Brevard on November 3th and to Lancaster on November 20th. I haven't yet been approved for visitation. I guess I won't be seeing Ted on Thanksgiving.

What I miss the most

Being incarcerated makes a person realize all the things they took for granted on the outside.

I miss some of the littlest things – like being able to use the bathroom without other people in the room or being able to get up whenever I want and go to the refrigerator. I also miss just sitting in the house on a rainy day playing cards or a board game with my family.

Really what I miss the most is not having someone tell me when to eat, sleep and go outside.

Even though I miss being out of prison, I thank God that I only have nine months left. There’s a lot of people in her that won’t ever be seeing the streets again.

So everything that I miss on the outside will still be there waiting for me.

To my family: “I’ll be home soon.”

Getting things done

Since I first got to prison at the end of September, I’ve been trying to get two request forms, but it seems like everywhere I’ve been, they’re all out. I haven’t seen one since I’ve been here.

I need to fill out a request form to Classification so they can give me a visitation application form to send to my family. I also need a request form so I can see the dentist and get my wisdom tooth pulled. It’s killing me.

I just don’t understand how I’ve been here a month, but haven’t been able to fill out a request form to save my life.

I wouldn’t be that concerned about it, but the longer it takes me to get the visitation form, the longer it will be until I see my family.

Once I finally get the visitation form filled out by my mom, it could still take a couple of months to get approved. It takes forever to get anything done.

Update: Ted visited a prison doctor who refused to pull his wisdom tooth, saying it was not necessary. Brevard did finally send me visitation forms and I saved one. I made a copy and sent it to Lancaster already last week. But I probably won’t see Ted until after Thanksgiving and Christmas are over. I last saw Ted on September 9, 2009 at the Pinellas County Jail over a video visitation phone. The last time I saw Ted in person was October 30, 2008.

Teen in Jail has a new web URL

Ted is no longer a teen and is no longer in jail. He turned 20 and is now in prison.

But since "Teen in Jail" is easy to remember - and because he wants to reach other teens - the site name will remain the same. I've purchased a custom URL - www.teeninjail.com. The other URL, www.teeninjail.blogspot.com also still works.

Ted can only write about a small percentage of his experiences while he's in prison, but plans to write a book when he gets out. His release date could be as early as July 2010 or he could remain in prison until October 2010.

Ted has much more to write about his experiences while he was a teen in juvie, drug rehab and jail.

Teen in Jail is also looking for advertising sponsors through Google AdSense or PayPerPost.com.

The Orlando Reception Center

The Central Florida Reception Center in Orlando is a lot bigger than Lake Butler, but in my opinion, Lake Butler was way nicer. There we get canteen almost every day, but here we don’t. I’ve only been here a day, but I know we don’t get canteen much.

Also at Lake Butler, people were allowed to smoke, but you can’t here, unless you’re on the Adult side. Right now they’ve got me with 18 – 24 year olds. Everybody in that range is consider a Youthful Offender.

The thing I hate most about this place is they make us march. They did that at Lake Butler too, but here they go overboard with it. I can’t wait to leave here.

Our cells aren’t bars like Lake Butler either. There are doors controlled with an electronic lock.

At least there’s a dayroom here. At Lake Butler there wasn’t. They dayroom here sucks though. There isn’t enough room for everybody to sit and the only channel they watch is the Spanish Channel. Nobody here is even Spanish!

Just like Lake Butler, it’s always hot. There isn’t any A/C. We’ve got a window in the room though. I’m not sure what purpose it serves because you can’t see out of it.

I’m still learning about this place. I just got here yesterday, but I won’t learn too much because I’m leaving tomorrow.

Ted was sent to Brevard for a few weeks and returned to the Orlando Reception Center for two more weeks before being sent to Lancaster.

The bus ride

After the guards got their guns from the front gate, we left Lake Butler. We took a bunch of side roads until we got onto the interstate. A lot of people were smoking cigarettes the whole time.

I spent my time looking out the window watching the cars. It had been a year since I got to watch traffic go by. On my last bus ride, we couldn’t see much of anything because it was night.

The whole time I just watched the cars. The trip took about three hours I think.

I noticed that when we got there, it wasn’t a permanent camp. It was another reception center.

We got off the bus, walked through some gates and were strip searched. After that, we went inside and were given a bed roll. Then they took us to our dorm.

This place [CFRC- Main in Orlando] is so much worse than the last place. I’m glad I’ll only be here for two days. I’ll be going to my permanent camp on Friday.

It turned out Brevard was even worse.

Another transfer

This is the transfer from Lake Butler to the CFRC in Orlando before Ted was sent to Brevard. I’ve just recently received letters from Ted that were written weeks ago.

Last night, a CO woke me up to tell me that I was being transferred. I thought I was going to go to my permanent camp. It was kinda odd because I had only been in prison three weeks and it normally takes four to six weeks to go to your permanent camp. Anyway, I packed my stuff up and waited in my cell for about another 15 minutes until the CO came and got me.

I was led downstairs and got in a line with everybody else who was getting transferred. There were 52 of us in all. We walked to the chow hall and ate breakfast. For some reason, we sat there about 30 minutes. We lined up again and walked to the transfer and receiving part where people go when they first come in. We all sat down and were called one by one to sign some papers. When when everybody was done, we were led to a long hallway with a bench that stretched all the way down the hall.

This part was kinda weird. Just as I was walking out the door to the hallway, a CO grabbed me and asked me if my last name was Braden, and I said yes. He said, “You’re from Pinellas, right?” and I said yes. He said, “I thought that was you. I know your dad.” I still don’t know who he is, so I just kept walking out the door.

After everybody lined up in the hallway, they made everyone roll up their pant legs and kneel on the bench. They shackled us one by one. After we were all shackled, we walked down the hallway to a large garage with no cars – just an empty space with two big doors.

We stood there for about 15 minutes, then all of a sudden, the doors opened and a bunch of buses backed up to the door.

The CO told us which bus we would get on and we lined up in that order. He called us out and everyone got on their bus. It was hard to get up the stairs on the back of the bus because of the shackles. Once we got on the bus, we were moving almost immediately. The bus stopped at the front gate for a moment for the guards to pick up their guns and then we were off.

Transferred to Lancaster

I received an email from the Florida VINE program – a service that notifies victims of inmate transfers, sometimes faster than what’s posted on the DOC site. Anyone can sign up to be notified of the transfers.

Today, Ted was sent to Lancaster Correctional Institution – a state prison in Trenton in Gilchrist County.

I also found that Lancaster’s nine youthful offender dorms are air-conditioned. They supposedly grow their own food there and the food is pretty good. I guess we’ll be hearing all about it soon from Ted.

Comments appear on Prison Talk that Lancaster has gangs, fights and abuse. There are other rumors that some of the correctional officers are members of the KKK, but another parent commented that a full investigation was conducted into those allegations and there’s supposedly no truth to them.

Here are some of the comments about Lancaster from Prison Talk. Each individual post is prefaced by a dash.

- The visiting hours are from 9 a.m. to 3 pm. Morning is not crowded at all.
Attire- I had a no sleeve blouse on which was ok but was told not to wear no sleep shirt, shorts. Dress conservatively.
Check in - I received a visitor number and enter with a hand computer system.
Fenced in/covered outdoor for smokers and indoor. The facility is fairly small but there was enough seating for all of us.

- I have learned nothing about Lancaster. I haven't heard anything from my friend since the transfer (exactly a month ago). Neither have any of his family or friends. It is really scary, and I just wish we knew he was okay. If I find anything out, I will post it here and ask you do the same. I hate Florida. :blah:

- I heard from my son today! He said it was tough there at Lancaster, that the first two weeks is "Phase 1" and it is like boot camp, all they do is p.t. He said they made them run so much and it was so hot that he started vomiting. He did say that they don't get much access to the phone, so that is about all I know. Hope you hear from your friend soon!

- I didn't get to talk to my son today but his fiancee did. He told her that they are only allowed to call on Saturdays and Sundays and have limited ability to mail during Phase 1 which he said is the first 2 weeks. He also told her it is really bad in there, that there are lots of fights!

- Hello out there! My son has been at Lancaster now for over a year. He says it is really bad there. So far he had been able to keep his nose clean but a couple of weeks ago he got 60 days in close confinement for losing his temper. He was angry because everything he owned somehow got put in the showers and got wet, and when the guards told him to face the wall at parade rest, the guards put in the DR that he was threatening them and holding his hands in closed fists while at parade rest. So he ended up with 2 DRs at 30 days each, 1 for verbal threats and the other for insubordination. He says the guards are a real bad bunch and that most everything you hear about the place is true. Right down to the knotted key chains the guards wear, but keep out of sight at visitation. They have some very crazy rules there like if an inmate is on the sidewalk and a guard comes along, the inmate must step off the sidewalk and stop at parade rest until the guard passes. Tell your sons that while they are new there the guards will intimidate them very bad, trying to make snitches out of them. My son was hit with walkie talkies, and burned with a cigarette lighter while trying to make him talk about something he said he knew nothing about. Consequently, I worry every single day because he told me that before he will let a guard touch him that way again "when being questioned", he will go off on them and probably end up with more charges or really get hurt. At this point I wish the DOC would just move him again. I wish you ladies luck and any time you would like to talk just let me know.

- visited my son at Lancaster last weekend for the first time. It wasn't so bad, the guards were cordial and not very strict during visitation. One female guard was actually NICE to us (that was a first.) My son says it isn't great there, but it is 100 times better than the reception center. He says there is one bad guard there that is constantly writing up the inmates for things they didn't even do, I have his name but I'm not sure who to contact about it without my son getting backlash from it.

- My son said there is a rumor that some of the guards are KKK and these key chains represent their membership! However, he said when you ask any of them about the keychain, they all say it represents their favorite football team; he said they say the exact same thing - word for word - like they are told what to say. But apparently the key chains are all different colors...so they can't represent a football team. Its almost like the color has some correlation to ranking or something. Has anyone else heard this?

- That is EXACTLY what I've heard, not from my friend directly, but through the grapevine. The color and the number of knots supposedly means something like ranking, and I've heard the KKK mentioned specifically. There is a website that talks about this and is where I heard it all from, I'll try to post the link here. It is really disturbing stuff. It may or may not be reliable, but with your son mentioning the same thing from inside and you actually seeing these keychains!?! I'm glad your visit went well and your son seems happier there. Maybe it's not as bad as I've feared.

- My son who spent four months at Lancaster in the fall of 2005 said that it was tough (PT especially, they use a boot camp constant PT have to memorize rules approach that is designed to increase compliance and comraderie among the inmates), that there are times when everyone gets in trouble when only specific people should, that in some blocks there is intimidation among the inmates, and there is one guard who is generally disliked by all inmates because he abuses power. The keychain issue is a very old one that was thoroughly vetted by the Inspector General including charges against guards and transfers several years back. If they wear them today (and I looked for them and never say them) they are probably just funning with the inmates. Having said that, this is rural northern florida, after all. Pretty much the only people of color many of the staff know are the other staff members and inmates who are people of color. It is easy to understand how both they and the inmates would feel misunderstood when something goes down. (BTW, when my son reported inappropriate behavior, I spoke with the warden and followed it up in writing ---advice: always complain in writing so that you can have a paper trail.) He remained very scared of retaliation, but couldn't actually describe anything that persuaded me it was retaliatory.

Out of the box

For the last three weeks, I’ve been in the box, but then last Friday they transferred me to the Central Florida Reception Center (CFRC) in Orlando.

From what I understand, I’ll be going back to Lake Butler, then to another main camp from there.

Why do they keep moving me you ask? Who knows.

Honestly, I don’t think the warden liked the fact that I write about my experiences. That’s my only guess.

Other than that, I never said anything or did anything worthy of getting transferred.

Oh well, I guess no matter where I go, I’ll still be in prison. So it doesn’t really matter.

Well, wish me good luck wherever I go.

My new room

Now I’ve been in the box for two weeks.

Since I first came in here, I’ve had my room changed twice.

The first two rooms were okay, but now they’ve got me in a room I can’t stand. I have two roommates that are always loud. Day and night.

I never can get a decent night’s rest. Well, I can never sleep well being in prison, but now it’s worse.

On top of all that, the CO refuses to move me unless I try and kill myself, and I definitely don’t want to do that. [Whatttt????]

So for now all I can do is sit and put up with my roommates' immature ways.

I know that no matter where I am or where I go, God is always with me.

The Box

So far I’ve sent Ted 11 books – including a $50 Bible – and he hasn’t received ANY of them.

I’ve been here at Brevard C.I. for two weeks now and I’ve gotten a few letters from family and friends asking what the compound is like.

I can’t tell them.

I was only on the compound for two days and for those two days, I spent them in my dorm.

The rest of the time I spent in a cell which they call ‘The Box’. All I can tell my family is what shade of white the walls are and how many bricks are on the walls. Other than that, they probably know more about this place than me. (Oh yea, please nobody send me info about this place. I don’t need any attempted escape charges.)

Being in this cell 24 hours a day – never coming out – gives being bored a whole new meaning. I keep going from one side of the cell to another every couple of hours just for a little change of scenery.

I have nothing to do all day except talk to my roommate. We talked so much though, that we literally ran out of things to say. We told each other our life stories in a matter of days.

I hope I can go back on the compound soon.

Florida DOC considers releasing 5,000 prisoners

November 13, 2009 - WJHG, Channel 7, Panama City Beach

A plan to release 5,000 prisoners to help make up for a projected 2.6 billion dollar budget shortfall is being discussed by lawmakers. The plan arose after the Florida Department of Corrections was asked to draft a budget with 10 percent fewer dollars.

The likelihood of prisoners being released is low, but finding money to keep them locked up could lead to more [correctional officer] layoffs.

Tonight in Florida 100,000 people will go to sleep in a state prison cell. But a 2.6 billion dollar budget shortfall could mean a get-out-of-jail-free card for 5,000 inmates. The proposal comes as Florida’s Department of Corrections looks for ways to cut 224 million dollars from its budget.

Granting early release to prisoners who served 85 percent of their sentences would be the biggest money saver. The state could save 117 million dollars by letting those prisoners out 90 days early.

Full story

FL's youthful offender prisons: The KKK, starvation and abuse?

Ted wrote me that he thought he would be transferred to Lake City or Lancaster. Both happen to be camps for Youthful Offenders and both are in North Florida.

Ted wasn’t sentenced as a Youthful Offender. He was sentenced as an adult.

When I called the CFRC to find out why he was in with YOs, they told me it was because of his age and size – not for any other reason. (Ted is 5'11" and was 119 lbs. about four weeks ago, even though the DOC site says he's 5'8".)

Lancaster supposedly has better food, but Lake City has air-conditioning.

There are old rumors that the guards at Lancaster are part of the KKK and in the past, there have been abuse issues. Some recent comments about Lake City talk about some of the kids being starved for two or three weeks.

I think Ted will be sent to Lake City. It is privately run. So if Ted writes about the conditions there, it won’t make the state-run prison system look bad.

Florida Youthful Offender statistics

Passing time

It's amazing some of the things you come up with when you're locked in a cell all day.

The last room I was in had a chess board made out of toothpaste - so my roommate and I made checker pieces.

After we played checkers over 1,000 times, we made dice out of wet toilet paper. That got real boring real quick though.

We got so bored that we actually took two Styrofoam cups, ran a string from one to the other and made an elementary walkie talkie. Haha! I know it's stupid, but we were bored.

We even played tic-tac-toe and hangman - at least when we had a pen to use.

The COs only pass out pens for an hour every three or four days.

The last thing we made is a deck of cards out of regular writing paper. They're garbage, but they'll do. We just need them to pass time.

Canteen balances and calls from prison

I called the CFRC - Main today. I found out some very useful information.

For Florida prison canteen account balances:

If you call 866-209-7250, you can find out an inmate's canteen trust account balance. That number is for the Tallahassee bank that handles all Florida prisons' canteen (commissary) accounts. Inmates will receive the money no matter where they go in the Florida prison system.

To access the account balance, call 866-209-7250. Press 1, enter the inmate's DC number, if the number was entered correctly, Press 1. The balance will then be announced.

Cons Call Home cannot be used anywhere in Florida. Cons Call Home is much cheaper than other services. Figures it can't be used here. That would be too convenient.

To set up your home phone to be able to receive phone calls from a Florida inmate:

Call Correction Billing Services at 800-844-6591.

My phone service is Bright House. A Bright House representative told me I was unable to receive collect calls from a prison. While this is technically accurate, he neglected to tell me that there is a way to enable my phone to receive a call from an inmate.

According to the automated system on Correction Billing Services, you can pay for collect calls in one of several ways: Western Union, credit card, direct billing through the phone company (for an additional fee) or direct billing through Correction Billing Services (via a credit check, but no additional fee). You can only receive collect calls from a prison on a home phone. (No cell phones allowed.)

Once you select a payment option and the service is activiated, the collect calls will be enabled within 24 hours.

Youthful Offenders

Today I received three letters from Ted – 22 pages in all! (When it rains, it pours!) Two letters were from Lake Butler, where Ted was before Brevard. One letter was from the CFRC in Orlando, where Ted was after Brevard.

I also received another one of my letters back that I mailed to Ted. That is the third letter so far that was returned to me. When I mail letters, I usually include 10 pieces of paper, 10 envelopes and a book of stamps – and it costs $4.95 for postage per letter. This particular letter was returned because “Mail establishes or conducts business”. I’m assuming that the “business conducted” was me telling Ted that ABC News was interested in interviewing him and he needed to sign a consent form. So far, that’s $14.85 in postage down the drain. Actually, it’s double that – I re-mailed the previous two letters and will have to send this one out again – minus any mention of “business,” that is.

When I went to court to be sentenced, I was not sentenced as a Youthful Offender. I was sentenced to Straight DOC [Department of Corrections].

Now for some reason, I’m in with all the YOs.

YOs are still at the same prisons as everybody else – it’s just that they are in a different dorm.

I would much rather be with the adults, because the YOs act like little kids. Plus they have to march everywhere they go. It gets real old, real fast.

Musings

There wasn’t any mail delivery on Wednesday because of the holiday. Hopefully a letter from Ted will arrive today. I might plant a lawn chair down there by my mailbox.

I called my phone company, Bright House, yesterday. It turns out Bright House does not allow collect calls from prisons. Sure wish I found that out sooner! Ted probably did try to call, but couldn’t get through.

Bright House recommended a pre-paid phone service, Global Tel Link, which services all Florida prisons. I know this service is quite expensive. When Ted was at the Pinellas County Jail, $25 on Global Tel Link funded approximately two 20-minute calls. I found another site online – ConsCallHome.com. I’ll call the CFRC in the morning to see if they use that service. Cons Call Home costs about $25 for 300 minutes.

Another parent emailed me. Her son knew of Brevard and said it was good that Ted was out of there. He said it is widely known what a rat hole that place is and that the guards encouraged fighting and even bet on who the winner would be. Supposedly there is a glass jar there with gold teeth in it that have been knocked out of the prisoners when they fight, he said. I wonder if anyone else has heard that rumor. I wasn’t able to find any mention of it on the Internet.

The mission statement of the Florida Department of Corrections is “To protect the public safety, to ensure the safety of Department personnel, and to provide proper care and supervision of all offenders under our jurisdiction while assisting, as appropriate, their re-entry into society.” I wonder if there is an agency that checks to see if proper care of offenders is being cared out appropriately. There’re plenty of data reports on sentencing, recidivism and such, but are spontaneous spot checks performed to see if abuse is taking place in Florida’s correctional facilities? Are spontaneous spot checks even possible? It seems that the guards would be on the phone immediately to everyone else to let them know someone had arrived to check up on things. Maybe the solution is to install web cams in the prisons!

I still have no idea what happened in the incident in which Ted went to the box at Brevard. It is interesting that he was moved out of there though. The warden had called him into her office and told him she was aware of the blog and to tell me to be careful of what I write in my letters – or his time could possibly be doubled. I had sent him a blank greeting card and suggested that he could sell or trade it. The warden had Ted write to tell me that selling or trading items was prohibited. How I was to know that, I don’t know. Prison rules are not made available to the public on the Internet. I guess I need to hone my ESP.

Incidentally, prison visitation forms are also no longer available on the Internet. Family members must call each prison for a visitation form, wait a week or two for them to arrive in the mail, mail them back and wait three or more weeks for the approval. If visitation forms were available on the Internet, they could be sent to the prison as soon as the inmate arrived and cut several weeks off the wait time.

Someone else also emailed, "There should be a study, maybe there is already - if people go to bad prisons, [with] bad guards, is that an incentive to stay out of prison, or does that make them worse? Like in Texas, that one sheriff who puts guys in tents, makes them wear pink underwear, eat bad food, what is that area's return rate compared to others." Hmmm. Good idea.

I’m wondering if Ted was transferred because there are those who didn’t want certain things about the prison to be publicized. What is happening to those people in Brevard who have no one to look out for their interests? I could be totally off-base though. Maybe he really was transferred strictly to protect his safety. If that’s the case, I’m grateful. When you haven’t heard anything from your loved one at all, you start to imagine all kinds of scenarios.

Next: Continuation of Ted’s family history – A family crisis

The family foundation cracks

In early 1993, my husband and I moved with Teddy to a nice apartment three miles away from my grandparents’ house. We still were at their house for several hours every day.

The apartment had gorgeous views – a beautiful mountain out the front and green woods with a gentle stream out the sliding glass door in back.

That’s where I received that phone call from my mother in April 1993 – “I think your father shot himself.” And that’s where I received a similar phone call seven months later. My grandfather called. I was in the bathtub at the time and didn’t answer the phone the first time. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. I got out of the tub to answer. “I think your grandmother had a heart attack,” he told me.

I threw my clothes on, and we all ran out to the car. Within minutes, we arrived at the house. An ambulance was parked outside. Teddy watched as the EMTs frantically work on his beloved great-grandmother. I felt like a knife had been driven into my chest.

My grandparents were almost always with Teddy. Just like they did with me when I was small, they took naps with him, watched TV with him. Teddy helped his Papa in his workshop. He sat in my grandmother’s lap while she cooked and helped her chop vegetables. He called her Ba.

My grandmother was my best friend – the person I was closest to in the whole world. She was the cornerstone of all of our lives.

Her death devastated all of us. And Teddy was four.

Photos: Ba, Papa with Teddy, Papa and Ba

Next: A family crisis

A terrible year

I called the CFRC in Orlando today. They said Ted will be definitely be moved to another facility. They could not tell me when or where, as it was confidential.

No visitations are allowed at the CFRC. A visitation form has to be filled out for each prison. It takes about three weeks for each prison to process the completed application. Although I submitted visitation forms to Brevard C.I., I will have to start the process all over again when he reaches his new destination.

Supposedly, he was able to take my letters, his books that I sent him, paper, envelopes and stamps with him to his new cell. The officer told me they did not go into property. Yet, I’m still waiting on a letter from Ted. A phone call would be even better.
1993 was not a good year. Two horribly traumatic things happened.

One day, I received a phone call from my mother in Florida. “I think your father shot himself,” she said. What she said did not compute. My step-father had always been a deacon or elder in a church. Very religious. Very strict. That day is a bit of a blur, but my family ended up boarding a plane for Florida – not knowing if my step-father was alive or dead.

My mother and step-father had always been teachers. As I mentioned before, they eventually started their own small Christian school in CT. But when my step-father finished his PhD in 1984, he accepted a job in Clearwater, FL as the head of the Education department at a Christian college. It was his dream job.

In 1985, my mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Two years later, she walked with a cane at my wedding.

Around 1990, a new President took over at the college. He got rid of a number of established professors to bring in his own associates from Bob Jones University. My step-father was one of the ones let go, even though he had graduated from Bob Jones University as well.

The economy back then was similar to today’s economy. My step-father could not find a job – he was over-qualified. They lived on credit cards for a year or so. My step-father eventually bought a truck – similar to a Snap-On Tool truck – and sold auto parts to repair shops and gas stations around Tampa Bay.

Ironically, he also had a part-time job teaching a GED class at the Pinellas County Jail – where Teddy would end up 16 years later.

My step-father was not a businessman. He found himself in debt to the IRS. My mother was sick and getting worse. He had suffered from depression for 25 years and took medication for it. A doctor in Clearwater refilled his medicine by phone – without seeing him in person at all. It was later discovered that my step-father was taking over five times the recommended amount of medication a person should take.

By 1993, my mother’s MS had progressed to the point where to had to ride an electric scooter around the house. She was able to get out of bed, into the scooter and into an armchair. They both went to church three times a week – and ate out with a large group of friends after church every Sunday.

On April 29th, 1993, my step-father went into his work truck parked in front of the house, wrote five long suicide letters and shot himself in the head. He died instantly.

My mother heard something, rode her scooter outside, but was unable to get into the truck to see if he was alright. A neighbor found him.

My husband and I flew to Florida with 3-year-old Teddy to arrange the funeral and put his affairs in order. The funeral was very traumatic. Teddy stayed with his paternal grandmother. I sat in the front row and cried so hard as I stared at my step-father’s face – at the huge patched-up hole.

We stayed in Florida for several weeks. Interestingly enough, the church community fell away. Sure, a few church friends and a small number of professors from the Christian college attended the funeral, but only one or two so-called close friends visited my mother a couple of times afterward – and then disappeared entirely. Only one elderly woman remained in contact throughout the years.

This affected my views on organized religion, although I never lost my faith in God. Ted said it best – “The bad times show you who your good friends are.”

My mother did end up winning a medical malpractice suit against the doctor.

Next: Ted witnesses another traumatic event
Photo: My step-father, Dr. Walter Hatten, in front of his truck

More family history

It seems my entire day revolves around waiting for the mail to arrive to see if a letter has come from Ted. Hopefully one will come today. I feel like I’ve aged 10 years in the last two months.

Ted’s father, Bill, and I got married in Florida in July 1987. Six months later, we went to Connecticut to live with my maternal grandparents when my 39-year-old aunt (who was blind and 90% deaf) died of a heart attack. My grandfather had built their large house himself in a well-to-do neighborhood in Bloomfield.

Ted was born in Hartford Hospital in June 1989. From day one, Ted was showered with love and attention. Someone was always holding him.

A few weeks after he was born, the doctor discovered he was allergic to milk. He spit up everything he ate. He had basically been starving. Once he was switched to soy formula he was fine.

Ted loved toy cars. He would sit in his high chair for hours pushing Matchbox cars back and forth, making brrrmmm, brrmmm noises.

When he was two, we bought him his first electric car, a small red convertible. He also had a Little Tikes plastic pedal car and a pedal bulldozer. He would zoom all over the large yard as fast as he could go. He also sat in my grandfather’s lap when he mowed the lawn on a riding lawnmower and drove with him in a golf cart.

My grandparents both had large electric scooters. We would load both of them into a van and go to the local mall to sometimes eat at the food court. My grandmother rode her scooter at top speed, practically mowing down mall visitors in her path. Ted, of course, was perched on her lap. My grandfather followed behind at a more leisurely pace, with Bill and I walking behind. I’m sure this is where Ted got his love of fast cars.

Ted also constantly had a pacifier in his mouth. He wouldn’t give it up and used one until he was four years old.

I can’t help but wonder if all of the comforting contributed to him looking for replacements in alcohol and drugs as he got older.

Photos: Ted in his electric and pedal cars.

Next: Another family tragedy

Sent back to Orlando

I saw on the Florida Department of Corrections web site that Ted has been moved back to the Central Florida Reception Center in Orlando on either Friday or Saturday.

I still don't know the details that got him sent to the box at Brevard C.I., but in his last letter almost two weeks ago, Ted mention it was possible he could be transferred.

I will call the CFRC on Monday to find out if he will be staying there permanently or transferred to yet another camp.

Use Google Earth to enter the CFRC's address (7000 H C Kelley Road, Orlando, FL) to zoom in on a satellite image of the reception center.

A bit of family history

Again, no letter arrived from Ted. I’m beginning to wonder if Ted is safe, or at the very least, receiving my letters, stamps, paper and envelopes.

One person left a comment on the blog asking where Ted’s parents were.

Drugs, crime and gang involvement cross all social, economic, and racial barriers. Drug problems happen to rich families, as well as the middle and lower classes. It happens in all religions. All races. All education levels. All family situations – whole families and divorced families. It even happens to children of pastors.

I have been asked if one particular thing or combination of events may have contributed to where Ted ended up.

I think it was a combination of circumstances and tragic events in our family. Possibly even television, violent video games and Internet access all might have been contributing factors.

I’ll try to tell Ted’s story as honestly as I can - as painful as it may be - starting with a little of his parent’s history.

My father was a second lieutenant in the Air Force and died while on active duty at age 25 when I was five months old. My mother received a small military pension for both of us. She remarried when I was almost five.

My mother and step-father were very strict Baptists. They eventually started their own Christian school and my step-father later became a professor at a Christian college after completing his PhD in 1984. My mother obtained her Master’s degree in Early Childhood Education in 1973.

I was an only child (like Ted) and my upbringing was very restricted. I was not allowed to go to movies – not even Disney films. No secular music. No dancing. No playing cards (the devil’s game). After a certain age, I was not allowed to wear shorts and after age 13, I wasn’t allowed to leave my yard. And there was definitely no drinking or drugs allowed.

At age 15, I attended my parents’ Christian school. It had 50 students from kindergarten to grade 12. You could work at your own pace and I graduated at age 16. I was the only graduate that year. I started college right away. After five years, I graduated. Twelve years later, I also got my Master’s degree in Business.

Ted’s father, Bill, was the second of six boys. His father worked nights and the boys had to keep quiet during the day so their father could sleep. The boys were also not allowed out of their yard and played together in a fenced-in back yard when they were growing up. Bill joined the navy out of high school and went to work as a salesman after his discharge. He was very successful and broke many sales records.

Neither of us came from wealthy families. Rather, we both came from a middle class background.

Perhaps it was because I felt so strangled growing up that I was eventually not as strict with Ted. If I had known where he would end up, I would have done things differently. Hind-sight is unfortunately 20-20.

Photo: Ted's parents at EPCOT in 1986, when they were engaged.

Signs that your child may be in a gang

Again, no letter arrived from Ted today. While this is strictly Ted’s blog, I will post some background information about him until a letter comes.

Ted first started wearing red bandanas when he was around 12. Making no excuses for my ignorance, I didn’t think there were serious gangs in Tampa Bay. I would have conceded that there were gangs, but I thought they were just groups of kids dressing like cool characters they saw in the movies – play-acting at being Mafia mobsters.

I wish someone had told me the truth back then – gangs are a serious matter no matter where they are or how young they are. The dangers of gangs and signs of possible gang involvement need to be made widely available to all parents.

When Ted was younger – possibly around 13 or 14, I went away on a business trip and he stayed with his father in St. Pete. His dad dropped him off at Baywalk in St. Pete to see a movie. Ted called me up in a panic to say he had witnessed a shooting. He never opened up about the details, but I’m going to write and ask him more about that incident. I’m sure it involved a gang.

As Ted grew older, I never much thought about it, but his whole wardrobe started to gravitate toward certain colors – red, black and white. I took him on a trip to Alaska and he didn’t have a rain jacket. I went to buy him one and he was upset that they only ones that were for sale were blue. Again, I didn’t put two and two together. I just thought his favorite colors were red and black.

He bought ball caps and wore long chains with large crosses or dollar signs. I thought it was a phase. When he was very little, Ted liked to dress up in costumes: a police man, a fire man. A large photo of him in his fireman outfit appeared in the Hartford Courant when he was four years old. The hats, chains and baggy pants were another form of role-playing, I thought.

See this blog entry for why gang involvement is so dangerous: Gangs in Tampa Bay

The following information came from the Redwood City, California police web site. It’s a clear, concise list of signs that your child may be in a gang. None of these are sure signs of gang involvement.

Gang members share a name; form of identification (e.g., clothing, colors), "turf" or territory, and code talk (e.g., hand signs, graffiti, slang).

Street Talk
Gangs use a mixture of English and street slang. These words are meant to be difficult for "outsiders" to understand.

Hand Signals
Each gang has its own set.

Graffiti
Gangs use graffiti to mark or "tag" their territory. They also often mark their belongings.

Clothing Styles
All members may wear the same style of clothing or may wear all accessories on either the right or left side, including hats, jewelry, shoelaces, gloves, belt buckles, and so on.

Colors
Clothing may be all in one or two colors. The colors also appear on hair ornaments, nail polish, and belongings.

Symbols
The signs in the gang's graffiti may also appear on their belongings, skin (tattoos), and may be cut into their hair.

Photo: Ted, unhappy wearing his blue jacket.

Problems with the mail at Brevard?

There’s still no letter from Ted.

Apparently other people also have problems receiving mail from their relatives at Brevard, according to Prison Talk.

I’ve heard from more than one source that Brevard C.I. is the worst place you can be sent to in Florida. Fights break out every day.

One person wrote on Prison Talk:

I was lucky to get my son out of there. If your loved one is in Brevard, keep very close tabs on them! If you don't hear from them, call and find out why. They could be in confinement. They are supposed to be able to write but that is not always the case. You have to let people there know someone is watching them...someone is interested in the welfare of that inmate and is keeping up with what is going on with him. The problem isn't "fights". Unless you call getting attacked by four gang members, who are armed, a fight. It's not fights. It's beatings and horrible injuries. Not to try to scare you but just to let you know very serious injuries are coming to RMC from Brevard...very serious.

Another wrote:

Well when he first gets there he will go through orientation. He will be fine there. That usually lasts about a week. Then once he gets into general population it gets tough....at least for the first few weeks. From what I have been told is he will have to fight. There are alot of gangs in there, he should just stay to himself.

Its tough in there for my boyfriend. I havent had any problems with the guards but inside there they are tough on them. But from what my boyfriend says the gangs run the prison. The gangs pay the guards money to basically turn there back on certain things. There isnt alot of cameras in there so there is alot of fights.

A mom added:

My son was attacked and robbed - within minutes of arriving in his cell - by four guys who were armed. Try your best to get him transferred to another facility.

Gangs in Tampa Bay

Still waiting on a letter from Ted. Not sure if my letters are getting to him or if his letters are getting out to me. His last letter contained only two blog entries, so the prison may be confiscating some of the pages.

I recently found out stuff about gangs in Tampa Bay that I never knew – from another source, not from Ted.

About how gangs go to middle schools to recruit kids that are 8 or 9 years old. This is in Clearwater, Dunedin, St. Petersburg, Tampa…right here where we live. Clearwater Beach is a big area for gang activity. Gang leaders come all the way from NY and California to recruit high school students here. Gangs are in rural areas too. Not just in cities.

Someone told me about one young boy who got jumped walking home from middle school by a bunch of kids. He wasn’t safe until he joined a gang.

Gangs aren’t just cute social clubs, where kids wear colored bandanas to look cool. They force you into illegal activities. Selling drugs. Burglary. Vandalism. Members go to parties where they pull out guns regularly. Kids get stabbed. Shot.

Ted said he joined a gang so long ago ‘he didn’t remember how old he was, but he was really young.’ At first I thought it was around age 12, as that’s the first time I saw him wearing a red bandana. But now I realize it was much younger – probably about 9 or 10.

Ted went to a Christian school right up through 8th grade. He wasn’t even safe there.

I asked my source what danger Ted faced when he got out. After all, he appeared on the front page of the Floridian section of the St. Pete Times wearing a red bandana and throwing up a Blood sign. The source said Ted was brave for having that picture on the front page of the paper.

Once you’re in a gang, you never leave. You may get jumped out, but you still have an association with them. But they use you. They’re never there to visit you in jail or prison and they sure won’t put money in your commissary account.

Younger kids look up to their older relatives and copy what they do. Stay out of gangs. If not for yourself, for your little brother or sister.

Photo: Ted at age 12 wearing a red bandana on a trip out West.

O'Henry

I'm still waiting on the next letter from Ted. In the meantime...

A previous blog entry mentioned that many famous writers have spent time in prison: Jack London, O’Henry, Boethius, Cervantes, Campanella, Daniel Defoe, Thomas More, Walter Raleigh, Leigh Hunt, Oscar Wilde, Maxim Gorky, Chernyeshevsky, Dostoyevsky, Solzhenitsyn, Francois Villon, Voltaire, Diderot, The Marquis de Sade, Jean Genet, Saint Paul, Malcolm X.

Many of them wrote books IN prison.

O’Henry is famous for writing stories that have surprise endings, known as “O’Henry endings”. Wikipedia notes that O. Henry's short stories are well known for their wit, wordplay, warm characterization and clever twist endings.

Here’s a summary of one of his most famous stories called Gift of the Magi:

“Jim Young and his wife Della are a young couple who are very much in love with each other, but can barely afford their one-room apartment due to their very bad economic situation. For Christmas, Della decides to buy Jim a chain which costs twenty-one dollars for his prized pocket watch given to him by his father. To raise the funds, she has her long hair cut off and sold to make a wig. Meanwhile, Jim decides to sell his watch to buy Della a beautiful set of combs made out of tortoise shell for her lovely, knee-length brown hair. Although each is disappointed to find the gift they chose rendered useless, each is pleased with the gift they received, because it represents their love for one another.”

O’Henry was the pen name of William Sydney Porter. Porter and his family moved to Houston in 1895, where he started writing for the Post. His salary was only $25 a month, but it rose steadily as his popularity increased. Porter gathered ideas for his column by hanging out in hotel lobbies and observing and talking to people there. This was a technique he used throughout his writing career. While he was in Houston, the First National Bank of Austin was audited and the federal auditors found several discrepancies. They managed to get a federal indictment against Porter. Porter was subsequently arrested on charges of embezzlement, charges which he denied, in connection with his employment at the bank.

Porter's father-in-law posted bail to keep Porter out of jail, but the day before Porter was due to stand trial on July 7, 1896, he fled, first to New Orleans and later to Honduras. While holed up in a Tegucigalpa hotel for several months, he wrote Cabbages and Kings, in which he coined the term "banana republic" to describe the country, subsequently used to describe almost any small, unstable tropical nation in Latin America. Porter had sent Athol (his wife) and Margaret (his daughter) back to Austin to live with Athol's parents. Unfortunately, Athol became too ill to meet Porter in Honduras as Porter planned. When he learned that his wife was dying, Porter returned to Austin in February 1897 and surrendered to the court, pending an appeal. Once again, Porter's father-in-law posted bail so Porter could stay with Athol and Margaret.

Athol Estes Porter died on July 25, 1897 from tuberculosis (then known as consumption). Porter, having little to say in his own defense, was found guilty of embezzlement in February 1898, sentenced to five years jail, and imprisoned on March 25, 1898, as federal prisoner 30664 at the Ohio Penitentiary in Columbus, Ohio.

While in prison, Porter, as a licensed pharmacist, worked in the prison hospital as the night druggist. Porter was given his own room in the hospital wing, and there is no record that he actually spent time in the cell block of the prison.

He had fourteen stories published under various pseudonyms while he was in prison, but was becoming best known as "O. Henry", a pseudonym that first appeared over the story "Whistling Dick's Christmas Stocking" in the December 1899 issue of McClure's Magazine. A friend of his in New Orleans would forward his stories to publishers, so they had no idea the writer was imprisoned.

Porter was released on July 24, 1901, for good behavior after serving three years. Porter reunited with his daughter Margaret, now age 11, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where Athol's parents had moved after Porter's conviction. Margaret was never told that her father had been in prison - just that he had been away on business.

This information and photo were taken from Wikipedia.

Surviving in prison

Over the last year, a lot of different people have given me advice about how to survive in prison. They’ll say don’t do this, but make sure you always …, but really, there’s nothing you can do to prevent trouble.

My best advice to survive prison doesn’t start when you get to prison, but when you’re out on the street.

If you’re out there – do whatever you want to do – no matter what anyone says. Just know that one day you’ll go to prison. That’s a guarantee. It will happen sooner or later.

So while you’re out there, take some boxing lessons and make sure you know how to fight because when you come to prison, you’ll be doing a lot of it whether you want to or not.

A time will come when you have to defend yourself and nobody is going to be there to help you.

Other than that, stay in the Bible and pray. God will always answer your prayer – no matter if he answers them the way you want or not.

Last thing – if you feel your enemy is too great – read Psalms 59. It helped me a lot.

Prison Survival Manual

Psalm 59
Deliver me from my enemies, O God;
protect me from those who rise up against me.
Deliver me from evildoers
and save me from bloodthirsty men.
See how they lie in wait for me!
Fierce men conspire against me
for no offense or sin of mine, O LORD.
I have done no wrong, yet they are ready to attack me.
Arise to help me; look on my plight!
O LORD God Almighty, the God of Israel,
rouse yourself to punish all the nations;
show no mercy to wicked traitors.
Selah
They return at evening,
snarling like dogs,
and prowl about the city.
See what they spew from their mouths—
they spew out swords from their lips,
and they say, "Who can hear us?"
But you, O LORD, laugh at them;
you scoff at all those nations.
O my Strength, I watch for you;
you, O God, are my fortress,
my loving God.
God will go before me
and will let me gloat over those who slander me.
But do not kill them, O Lord our shield, [b]
or my people will forget.
In your might make them wander about,
and bring them down.
For the sins of their mouths,
for the words of their lips,
let them be caught in their pride.
For the curses and lies they utter,
consume them in wrath,
consume them till they are no more.
Then it will be known to the ends of the earth
that God rules over Jacob.
Selah
They return at evening,
snarling like dogs,
and prowl about the city.
They wander about for food
and howl if not satisfied.
But I will sing of your strength,
in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress,
my refuge in times of trouble.
O my Strength, I sing praise to you;
you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.