The trip to prison

On Tuesday, September 22nd at 2:30 a.m., I was woken up and told that I was going to be transferred, so I got up and packed my stuff.

I left my pod and was brought to the maximum security part of the jail. There I sat in a small one-man cell with six other people that were going to prison too. We must have sat in there for about two hours. During that time, we were fed breakfast.

After breakfast, we were led to a hallway with even more people on their way to prison. In the hall, we were shackled and handcuffed to the person next to us. There was about 20 of us altogether.

After we were handcuffed and shackled, we were lead to a bus. When we walked it was like a 3-legged race because of the shackles. The bus we got on was a big white bus that said ‘Pinellas County Sheriff Transport’ along the side with bars all along the windows.

When we got on the bus, we went through two gates toward the back of the bus where we sat in some uncomfortable plastic seats. The guards that were transporting us were armed with assault rifles.

I’m not sure how long the trip was to Lake Butler, but I’d have to say it was about 4-5 hours and the whole time we had to stay handcuffed and shackled to the person next to us. I tried to get some sleep, but couldn’t do it. There was no way to get comfortable.

This was the beginning of the worst day of my life…

Almost gone

It’s Monday night and in a couple hours I could possibly leave to go to prison.

I have asked a lot of people what it’ll be like and what to expect. I’m anxious, yet scared.

I will kind of be disappointed if I don’t go, but even if I don’t, I will leave on Thursday.

I heard that that first 2-4 weeks will be the worst, but that would probably be true even if the prison wasn’t filled with convicts.

I’m not sure how long it will be before I can send or receive letters – and not hearing from my family will be the worst.

Right now I’m only 15 minutes away from where I live, but who knows where I’ll be in a month or two. I could be almost in Alabama for all I know.

Well in a few hours, I’ll know if I’m going or not, and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

Wish me luck…

My best friend

No matter what I did or where I went, I had this friend who was always there for me.

At times we seemed to be on top of the world and sometimes times were hard, but no matter what, we stuck by each other.

Anyway, this is for him.

On 8/11/09, he came to jail for aggravated battery with a deadly weapon. I don’t really want to know what he did, but by the grace of God, his charges are being dropped.

I just want to say to him –

I know we’ve been to hell and back together and not even a bullet could’ve separated us. When you get out, I hope you realize how close you were to coming to prison with me. Please if you don’t listen to anything else, listen to this.

The drugs are going to make you do things you regret – even if you don’t intend to do anything wrong. Just look at the scars on my face and you’ll know what I’m saying.

I want you to know I pray for you every night.

I'm ready to go

I never thought I would say that I'm looking forward to going to prison, but you have to understand that I've literally been in the same room for 11 months without really going outside under the open sky.

Not to mention that Chuck Norris is now working in the pod 3-4 days a week. The other day, he came up to me and said, "Braden, do you know why I have a problem getting along with people, and especially my girlfriend?" I thought he was going to say cause he talks too much or something like that, but instead he said, "It's because I'm always right!"

I pray that no other human should be put through that kind of torture that only Deputy Phillips (aka Chuck Norris) can dish out.

P.S. Chuck Norris is about 15 feet away from me as I write this.

(This entry was written before Ted left the Pinellas County Jail.)

Jail food

When you first come to jail, the worst part about it (besides being here) is the hunger.

A lot of people don't have money - or people to give them money - so that means they can't eat commissary food.

Sure, the jail feeds you, but if you only eat the meals the jail feeds you, you'll be left still hungry.

It sucks not being able to eat what you want, when you want.

The food you get for each meal is never any good - sometimes it's unrecognizable - and also the amount you get is a joke.

I'm a small person (119 lbs.) and if I could eat four trays of this food, imagine how hungry someone who's bigger than me feels.

The meals here only are enough to keep me from coming back! That's not even mentioning all the other reasons - which I won't get into - because I'm sure you've got some kind of plans for the next week!

When I get to prison

OK, here's the deal.

When I get to prison, I am going to continue to write these blogs, but unfortunately everything I send out is going to be read, so I am going to have to keep everything I say PG-13, so to speak.

Everything that I'm not able to post from prison, I will post when I get out.

I am hoping it doesn't get to the point where the prison doesn't want me to write blogs at all. I don't think it will come to that and even if it does - my mom will take over until I get out [writing entries about my past crimes and incarcerations].

I hope all of you will continue to read my blogs.

Good people

The next few entries were sent from Ted just before he left for prison...

Even though I am going to prison, everything I am doing with these blogs is bringing good people back into my life - which is something I really need.

For instance, yesterday my 6th grade science teacher - who I haven't seen in years - came to see me. That meant so much to me. (I don't know if she knows it, but she was the best teacher I every had. I'm sure she'll still be around to teach me new things.)

The biggest thing I've noticed with all these people coming to see me to give me encouragement is that not one of these people have judged what I've done in the past. The only thing any of these people care about is that I do what I'm supposed to do.

It feels great not to have to hide my past. Thank you to all that have come to see me and also to those who have tried to come see me. Your support means the world to me.

A little advice to others - No matter what you do in life - don't cut the good people out of it. I'm just learning that. Having the right kind of people in your life can make the biggest difference!

A prisoner's first day

The following story is from www.prisonsecrets.com. An inmate recounts his first day in prison…

My First Day in Prison

"My first day in prison was one I’ll never forget. I was in jail, and as bad as THAT seems, I was in fear of the unknown - Prison! If you have ever been to prison then you know what to expect, but I had no idea. I asked others who were in the jail to explain it to me, but all the explaining in the world couldn’t prepare me for what I had in store.

The guards in the jail got me up early to prepare me for the ride to prison. After breakfast and a shower, they handcuffed me and took me to the transport room.

When I got there I saw several other guys who were handcuffed and shackled and sitting there waiting to leave. They took my cuffs off and strip searched me to make sure I wasn’t carrying any weapons (or anything else I wasn’t supposed to have). A strip search isn’t a cavity search. They aren’t going to try to check inside your butt unless they think you have something in there that you aren’t suppose to have.

You get totally naked in front of whoever is there. You face the guard that is strip searching you and you hold your hands and arms up so they can see that you don’t have anything in your hands of taped to your armpits. You open your mouth and move your tongue around so they can see that you don’t have anything in your mouth. Then you run your hands through your hair (if you have any) and pull your ears forward so they can look in and behind them. Next you turn around. You pick up your feet one at a time to show that you don’t have anything taped to the bottom of your feet. Lastly, you bend over and cough. The guard inspects your butthole to see if he thinks you have any drugs or weapons stuffed in there. If they think you have something in there, they do a cavity search on you immediately so you don’t have a chance to get rid of it. And no I didn’t receive one that day (thank god!)

After my strip search, the guard went through my clothes. Not just pockets, but along seams and collars etc. to see if there is anything in there.

Once the strip search was over, the guard took my clothes and gave me my underwear and socks back and took the rest to be transported. He gave me a jumpsuit to wear and some slippers for shoes.

Then he told me to kneel down on the bench facing the wall. When I did, he put shackles on my ankles. Afterward, I stood up (with great difficulty because of the shackles) and he put handcuffs on me. Next they put a chain all the way around my waist and secured the handcuffs to it so you couldn’t raise your arms. Then I sat with the others till everyone that was going was treated in like fashion. Only one guy got mouthy. Everyone else was in shock, not knowing what to expect next.

We were then lead outside to the bus. once we got there, they un-cuffed every other guy and would hook your arm through the other guy’s and re-cuff you again, so you were cuffed to another guy (as if the shackles, belly chains, and handcuffs weren’t uncomfortable enough). And then they seated us all on the bus.

The bus had a thick metal screen and bars on the windows. And when we got on the bus, there was a gate behind the driver’s seat that they locked after we all got inside it. I’m sure with everyone being cuffed and shackled to each other, we weren’t about to attack the driver. Being shackled to someone else made moving around very hard.

After they loaded all of our belongings on the bus and our records, we were off. It would be a three-hour-plus ride to the prison and it was only about 9 or 10. I’m not really sure because they took all of my jewelry (which includes my watch). All we were allowed to have was our underwear, t-shirt, jumpsuit, and slippers. Oh yea, and all these chains.

The ride there was long and uncomfortable. Some guys were starting to talk about how bad they were and what was going to happen. I assume they were just trying to cover up their own insecurities and fears.

As we pulled up to the prison, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. I tried not to show I was scared, but I was. I tried to act like I was just going to the mall. I wanted so much to be somewhere else, but I couldn’t go. I guess I deserved all that I got. I don’t even want to relive the experience as I tell you about it, but it is as vivid today as it was then. It was a traumatic day.

As we neared the entryway, you could see the razor wire on the fences that surrounds the place, and you could have heard a pin drop inside that bus. Nobody made a sound.

We pulled up to the gate and the guard got out and walked to meet another guard inside the gate. Then the one gate opened and the bus pulled in and the gate closed behind us. At this point we were surrounded by fence and razor wire. It was a fenced in entrance. The guard took a mirror on a pole and looked all underneath the bus. Then he opened the hood and looked around the engine. After that, they talked for a little bit before the gate at the other end opened up and we were moving towards the prison.

We pulled up next to the building and stopped. It seemed like a long time we just waited for the guards to tell us we could get off the bus. Finally they unlocked the gate and told us to start getting off the bus.

As we got off the bus they separated us from the other person that we were chained to, but we all remained shackled and cuffed with belly chains, and we were told to follow the guard inside. You don’t want to take very long steps because the chain on your shackles would fight your strides and it would hurt, so walking was hard to do as well.

Once inside they began taking our chains off. It sure felt good to get them off. Then we were processed one by one – name, date of birth,etc. The guard told me a number and told me not to forget it. I didn’t want to act like I wasn’t paying attention so I didn’t tell him that I didn’t remember it already. I was hoping to ask someone else later.

At this point, everything happened really fast it seemed. It was as if we were running (not literally) through a car wash. They lead us into a room and started to strip search us again. I guess they thought that the other guards didn’t do a good enough job. Once we were naked, we went through a door and it was concrete everywhere. Concrete walls, ceiling, and floors. I was lead to some barber chairs and told I was getting my hair cut. They buzzed it all off. Then I was lead to a shower stall (with no shower curtain), given some liquid soap and told to take a shower (while the guy watched). I’m assuming that this was my delousing.

After the shower I was stopped by another inmate that worked there. You could tell he worked there because he was the only inmate that wasn’t naked, and he asked me what size jumpsuit I wanted. I told him that I didn’t remember my number and he said, “Don’t worry; it’ll be on everything you get. You aren’t going to forget it.” Then he gave me a bag of stuff and a jumpsuit and said, “All I need was in there.”

The bag was a mesh laundry bag and I opened it to get a towel out to dry off. It was then that they said I was to get dressed, and I did.

Then all of us were taken to a cell block. We had been lined up, single file, and marched to the block.

Once we got there, they called out each person’s name (and number), handed them a paper, and told us to put our belongings in your cell, shut the door, and come back to the dayroom area. Our name, number, and cell number was all on the paper. As I walked to my cell I looked at my paper trying to quickly memorize my number so I wouldn’t forget it. Little did I know at that time, that I will never forget that number as long as I live.

I put my things away and looked around. There was a mattress on a metal framework that was bolted to the wall. Farther down was my toilet (sometimes called “The Head”). It’s a stainless steel one that’s attached to the sink. On the opposite wall was a desk and chair to write on. The whole place looked filthy. I wonder when it had been cleaned last. Well, I can look things over later. I shut the cell door and went to the dayroom area (which was just some school like desks all lined up in rows. On the desk was a publication that said, “Inmate Handbook” on it. I sat down and started looking at it.

There were several guards. None seemed to smile or be the least bit friendly. They were calloused (you could tell) from all the people who have come before me. There was no sympathy or understanding. It was their way or else. And at that time I didn’t know what “or else” was, but I didn’t want to find out either.

There was a lot of people talking about what all has happened to us so far and everyone was looking at their handbook when one of the guards said, “Attention people!” and everyone was silent. I don’t remember his exact words, but I’ll try to tell you (for the most part) what he said.

He said, “Gentlemen, I am Captain ____?____ (I don’t remember his name). I am the senior officer here. You have just been admitted into prison. You now belong to me. Your mommy and your daddy can’t help you now. You will do as I say. And if you don’t do as I say, you go to the hole. You have a handbook in front of you. It will tell you what you can and cannot do. If you disobey any of the rules, you go to the hole. If you get smart with any of my Officers, you go to the hole. Don’t get out of line, don’t talk back, and don’t do anything that you aren’t allowed to do or you’ll be going to the hole. This is my prison and I don’t tolerate any insubordination.

This is the isolation block. You will be in cells for the time being while you adapt to prison life. You will be locked down 23 hours a day while you’re here. It is my experience that those who commit suicide in prison usually do it here. If you’re thinking about killing yourself, you’d better do a good job, cause if I catch you, you’re going to wish you were dead!

If you do what you’re told while you’re here, you will have a much more pleasant stay here. You are at the Receiving Center and eventually you will be shipped to your Parent Institution. Until that time you will do as you are told, or I will make it my personal mission to make your time as hard as possible while you’re here. Now I will turn you over to your block Officer. Good day gentlemen.”

As the big man left, another guard began to talk. He told us to follow the rules. And what our laundry and shower schedule would be. He told us if we had any questions to ask. Then he said that we had the next hour for our one hour today to shower, make a phone call, watch TV, or whatever. Then he went up to the desk.

I went to get on the phone but I was too slow. They were already full. I didn’t want to visit with anyone so I just went back to my cell. I went through my handbook and found the mailing address in it. Eventually I got on the phone and called my family. I told them where I was in case they wanted to visit me, and how they could send mail to me.

At the end of the hour, they sent everyone to their cells and locked us down. It got really quiet and with nothing to do and nothing to read, you had a lot of time to think.

After a short time, I heard some odd noises out in the cell block. When it’s quiet like it was, you can hear everything. Not only that but sound echoes around in an empty cell block. So I went to my door and looked out the small window to see what it was. There were some inmates with blue shirts and pants on (like the one that issued me clothing) and they were opening the shoots on our doors. I kept watching and while the one guy opened the rest of the shoots, a couple of other guys were delivering trays of food. It must be chow time. That’s another thing that drives you nuts at first. You have no idea of what time it is. It might be 9 a.m. or it might be 1:30.

The trays were rectangular plastic trays with compartments. The food? Well it’s not mom’s good cooking. It was tuna noodle casserole, two slices of white bread, spinach, lime Jell-o with pear slices, and milk. I don’t like spinach or lime Jello, and the noodles were cooked long enough to become a glob of starch instead of individual noodles. So I salvaged some tuna on the bread to make a sandwich, pulled out the pears for dessert, and had 2% milk to wash it all down. I wasn’t being too picky, I just did 5 months in the county jail and I know it’s either find a way to make a meal or go hungry.

After eating, I set my tray back in the shoot in my door and lay back on my bed to relax and let my food settle. I guess because I had spent so much time in the county jail, I had gotten into a routine. Now we just wait around till supper and we’ll be doing the same thing. Time goes by really slow. Minutes seem like hours. And that’s no exaggeration.

After what seemed like a long time there was some voices that started to progressively get louder and louder until it seemed as though they were yelling. I went to my cell door to look out the window, but I couldn’t see anything. I kept watching and finally saw some guards come in. I saw maybe four or five. They rushed in and you could hear some scuffling noises and some more voices. Then I saw them taking a black guy in handcuffs behind his back to the door of the cell block. I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure they took him to the hole. Maybe tomorrow when we have our hour out of the cell, I’ll ask somebody.

I had been staring at the ceiling for some time, when they started bringing the trays around for supper. It doesn’t take long to figure out this kind of a scheduling. As I waited for the surprise meal, I couldn’t imagine doing years here. What will tomorrow bring. And then, there it was. Hot dogs and beans. I can eat that. It’s not great, but it fills the empty spot in my gut.

Then I placed my tray into the shoot and waited for the guy in blue to come by and get it. This has been some day. A lot has happened. I guess I’ll read my handbook some more.

I lie on my bed and read and got rather bored. There was nothing to do. I got up and paced the floor for a while. I looked out the window to see what I could see. Not much. Nothing of interest.

At one point I had to use the bathroom. Yes that metal monstrosity at the end of my bed. The prison toilet. God I was hoping not to have to use that. Well, I got some toilet paper wet and tried to clean the rim so I could sit down. I got it wet and the dried it off. I guess that’s as good as it gets. I sat down and the metal was cool. I still remember the shock that I felt when I flushed it the first time! The whole thing seemed to turn ice cold! Wow! I was totally unprepared for that! Lucky for me, that was the only surprise I got. I guess it could have been worse.

Later on I started to feel sleepy. I got up early. I am going to try to lie down and sleep. As I laid there, my head spinning with the day’s events. I fear the thought of days and weeks and months and years. It feels long already, but for now, the day is over.”

But the day wasn’t over. He tossed and turned all night. And I’m sure that this is going to be a long time in prison for John.

I know there was no blood and gore, but it was John’s first day at the reception center. When he goes to his Parent Institution, he won’t be isolated and he won’t be in a single man cell. Basically he’s safe from everyone except himself right now. As safe as he can ever be, …. Behind The Walls…

Ted's current location - RMC Main

Ted was not sent to the Central Florida reception center in Orlando. He is currently at the RMC - Main Unit (Reception and Medical Center) in Lake Butler in Union County in North Florida according to the FL Department of Corrections web site. It is unknown how long he will remain there or why he was sent to a medical center.

You can see Ted's profile by clicking here.

Letters can be written to Ted at this address:

Braden, Theodore, DC# 131948
RMC – Main Unit
7765 S. CR 231
P.O. Box 628
Lake Butler, FL 32054-0628

The great unknown

In a previous blog, I wrote about how scared I was to get out, but I have to admit I’m even more scared to go to prison.

The scariest part is not knowing what to expect.

In a prison, you have to keep a certain mentality at all times. I’m not trying to be like that. When I get there, I’m just going to keep to myself.

If I told you that I wasn’t scared, I’d be lying to you.

I think the worst part about having to go to prison is having to watch my mom cry.

All in all, I think I’ll be alright though. I’ll be home before I know it.

Scared to get out

(This entry Ted wrote before he was sentenced to prison.)

Every day I hope that I will get out soon, and I think about all the stuff I want to do – like what food I will eat, where will I get a job, etc., but in reality I’m more nervous than excited to get out.

Don’t get me wrong – I don’t ever want to come back here as long as I live and I’ll do anything to make sure I don’t – it’s just that most of my teenage years, I’ve spent incarcerated.

When I’m on the streets, I only know one life, but I know that I have to change everything.

I’m going to have to learn how to change my way of thinking. I’m also going to have to handle hostile situations by walking away instead of getting in a fight.

I pray every night for God to give me the strength to change my life… and hopefully someone else’s too.

I miss the little things

When I first came to jail on this charge, the only thing I was concerned about was getting out.

As each day passed, I gradually realized I’m not going anywhere.

I started to miss my girlfriend, my friends, getting high, and pretty much all the things I shouldn’t have cared about in the first place.

After awhile, I started missing just the little everyday things I took for granted - like being able to use the bathroom without having 70 people right behind me, or going to the refrigerator whenever I got hungry.

Now I have to sit and eat food – I’m not even sure what it is – with a bunch of people I don’t even like. Also now I’m used to taking a shower while I’m talking to the dude next to me, and I’m used to hearing a rent-a-cop deputy yelling at me for something I didn’t even do.

I hope that anybody that has never been to jail will never have to say that they are used to being locked up.

Leaving gangs behind

All my teenage years as a gang member, I learned to hate rival gangs.

One gang that I hated the most was called “Folks” or “Folk Nation”. I have never talked to one and have never liked one, but over the last 4 or 5 months, I’ve become really good friends with a Folk gang member [in jail].

It turns out that we were sentenced to prison on the same day so we will both leave on the same day to go to prison.

I know we probably won’t be able to change anybody’s mind in prison about being in a gang, but just maybe somebody reading my blogs will see that it doesn’t matter what set you represent or where you’re from, or what colors you wear. We are all just human beings.

If you really think about it, gangs don’t do nothing for you. The only thing it will do for you is what it did for me – and that is give you twice as much time for anything you get in trouble for. It only enhances the charges.

To the Lakeside Community Chapel

It's been a long time since I've been to church or even read my Bible, but the last couple of months, God has been really working in me.

At first it was me blogging on the internet and having a couple of people respond, but a few days ago, I had the most unexpected visit. Someone I went to elementary school with at Lakeside Christian School and went to church with as a kid came and saw me. She told me that the whole church knows about my situation and that everybody is praying for me.

One of the biggest surprises was that the police officer that transported me to jail was an old friend of my dad's and he was the one that put me on the prayer list at my old church. That meant a lot to me and showed me that there are a lot of people that care about me - even if I never see...or talk to them.

I want to say thank you to the officer that put me on the prayer list at church. Please keep praying for me. Also when I get out, you can expect to see me at church.

A message for the judge

Like I said a few blogs ago when I went to court on September 8th, I thought I was going home, but instead the judge told me I was going to prison for 24 months – NO LESS!

At first I just thought she was being mean, but now I realize it’s for the best.

Even though I REALLY DON”T WANT TO GO TO PRISON, it’ll be a new experience and hopefully by me going there and writing about it, other youths will realize what prison is really like and hopefully make better decisions so that they don’t end up like me.

But back to what I really want to say…I don’t know if my sentencing judge reads my blogs or not, but I just want to say to her that even though she sentenced me to 24 months in prison, I know that you only want to see youths such as myself make a better future for ourselves. I truly believe that.

You told me yourself that you wanted to see me turn my life around and I’m trying very much to do so.

Tuesday, September 8th

Last week, my attorney came to see me and she told me that I was going to get my charge dropped from trafficking to a sales & possession charge – which is a lesser charge – and that most likely I would get time served.

But yesterday – Tuesday, September 8th - I went to court and the judge told me they would drop my charge to sales & possession, but they wanted me to serve 24 months DOC (Department of Corrections), which is prison – in case you don’t know.

Most of my time in jail I expected it, but after my attorney came and got my hopes up, I was shocked.

I was so shocked, I asked for a week to think about it – and after only a day – I’m ready to take it.

I was so angry I felt like if anybody would even look at me wrong, I was going to hit them. I was sick to my stomach. I didn’t know what to do.

It’s only been a day since then and I don’t feel much different. I’m just trying to accept the fact that I have to go to prison. I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to be.

Right now I’m trying to keep to myself and not start any fights. I’m really trying to put violence in my past.

Hopefully with good behavior, I’ll be out in 10 more months.

And the verdict is...

I went to court today and entered a plea to accept the state’s offer of a 2-year prison sentence. I’ll get credit for the 11 months of time I spent at the Pinellas County jail, so I’ll be in prison for 13 months. I also can get 94 days deducted from that for good behavior.

I asked the judge for a 24-hour furlough before I went to prison, but she said no.

The judge's last words to me were "Mr. Braden, I do hope you've learned from all of this and after you've served your time that you won't be involved with the criminal justice system again."

I found out today that it might take a week or two for me to get to the Central Florida Reception Center. (I won't be leaving right away like I thought I would.) I could spend up to eight weeks at the reception center waiting to get assigned to a prison. They do extensive psychological and physical tests there to see if prisoners have any medical issues or educational needs. That determines what prison inmates go to. Next, they see if those particular prisons have open beds.

I could be sent to any prison from the Florida panhandle down to the southern end of the state.

If I’m at the reception center for longer than eight weeks, I’ll end up staying there to serve my sentence. They have different building there (Main, East and West) that house permanent residents. There’s two types of housing: Open Pop (open population) or CM (Closed Management). Open Pop is made up of a dorms of bunks. CM is made up of 1- or 2-man cells. There are different levels of Closed Management: CM I, CM II, and CM III (Maximum, Medium and Minimum security). All types of inmates wait there for assignments to the different Florida prisons.

My mom read on Prison Talk that they put you through a million and one things during that process. They’ll tell you to roll up your bed and move you to another location or to medical and in the morning will move you right back to where you were – with no explanation. According to the PT forum, there’s a mental process of owing the inmates nothing and making them be grateful for what they do have.

Prison Talk also said that the reception center was disgusting – mildew and rust on everything, so much so that some inmates are afraid to touch anything.

The food is supposed to be better than in county jail. I sure hope it is.

Prison Talk also says that it might take 10 to 20 days for me to get a letter. Other inmates say they received letters right away. Inmates are allowed to receive 10 sheets of paper, 10 envelopes and a book of stamps in the mail. Some parents didn’t receive their kids' letters for weeks and weeks.

After three weeks at the reception center, I’ll be able to make phone calls (to landlines only - no cell phones). I won’t be allowed visitations at the reception center unless I find out I’ll be staying there permanently. If they send me to another prison, I may not be able to get my first visit until four to six months, but it could be sooner. I hope I get sent somewhere close to home.

I can receive money in my commissary account as soon as I get a DC #. It won’t be the same inmate number I had at the Pinellas County jail. The DC # will be posted on the Florida Department of Corrections web site. They use a site called jpay (www.jpay.com), which is similar to PayPal.

There is a library in prison so I can read. There also may be work programs and education opportunities depending on where I’m sent. I can also receive books in the mail either sent from Amazon.com or directly from the publisher, but they must be paperback books with no spiral wires – any metal can be used as a weapon.

It makes it a little easier to know what I’m facing instead of just a big unknown. Once I find out what prison I’ll be sent to, I’ll be able to find out more info on that facility too.

I’m not happy about being sent away, but I won’t be on probation when I get out. I’ll also have to pay $2,034 in restitution for going with some friends to damage another kid’s car. (Told ya the gang got me into a lot of trouble.) I’ll also owe about $500 per charge for court costs and there’s three charges. I’ll be able to set up a payment plan once I get out to pay it back on a monthly basis.

The visitation process has changed again at the Pinellas County jail. The visitation reservation line (727-464-6842) now opens at 8 a.m. and you can make appointments for visitations for a week at a time now. (You need to have your driver’s license number available when you make a reservation.)

Inmates are only allowed one visit per day. My visitation days are Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. There were no visits open for Tuesday - so someone is coming to visit me - I just don’t know who. My mom and dad will visit me on Wednesday and Brittany and my mom will come this Friday.

I should still be at the Pinellas County jail for at least another week.

Teen in Jail appears on cover of new tb-two newpaper

Talked to my mom and dad on a 3-way call tonight. (Someone in jail let me use their phone card.)

On Thursday, September 10, there was an article about my blog in a new St. Pete Times teen newspaper [called tb-two] that goes to 75,000 high school students in Tampa Bay. A picture of me was on the cover too. I haven't seen the article yet, but I hope it helps some kids keep away from drugs and out of jail.

This article was a totally separate article from the one that appeared in the regular Sunday St. Pete Times paper on September 6.

I told my parents that I heard rumors in jail that they were changing the laws so that only 65% of a sentence could be served, instead of 85%.

I asked my friend Brittni to visit me at the jail on Tuesday. Brittni has been writing me tons of letters and it helps so much that she is there for me. (My girlfriend Kahli is long gone. I've heard that she now refers to me as "my ex-boyfriend in jail".)

My mom reads me the emails that I get at teeninjail@yahoo.com. I got a lot of emails after that article came out in tb-two. Other kids want to write to me in prison too, and I'd really like that. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know that people are thinking about me and praying for me. I can get letters at the reception center when I know my DC #. My mom will post the address and the DC # once she knows it.

I also asked my mom and dad to visit me on Wednesday. It might take about a week for me to be sent to the Central Florida Reception Center in Orlando. Hopefully I'll get to see my family before I'm sent to the reception center and I'm not sent there right away after court.

I have court again tomorrow morning. I want to ask the judge if I will get time served taken off the 24 months sentence. Hopefully I will. Then I would only serve 13 months in prison. I could also get 94 additional days taken off my sentence for good behavior.

Someone sent my mom a really good web site called Prison Talk. It has forums where people post all kinds of information on all of the prisons.

Stay tuned for what happens in court tomorrow...

Blogger's note: Found out online (after the phone call to Ted) that there is a bill in Congress called "hr 1475", but it hasn't passed yet. This is the bill that supports reducing time served in a sentence to 65%. The main supporter of the bill, Representative Charles Rangel, is being investigated for false or non-reporting of income - up to half a million dollars in unreported income. So he'll be busy defending himself and will want to distance himself from criminal justice reform.

7,000 readers and counting...

When I first started writing this blog, I never thought that a whole lot of people would read it - but I was really amazed at how it took off.

I can't believe about 7,000 people have read my blog.

Now that I know people are interested in what I've got to say, that encourages me to keep writing - even though I might not be able to think of anything to write.

I just hope that at least one person out of 7,000 would take some of the advice I have to give to heart. I hope nobody will make the same mistakes I did.

Please keep reading and also I want any advice that ya'll have to give to me.

Being focused

Here in this jail, I spent a lot of time thinking about the wrong things.

I would think about what my friends were doing and what I could be doing.

But over the last few months, writing these blog entries has helped me realize what things I should be thinking about.

Now I try to think about what I’m going to do when I get out instead of thinking about what I could be doing if I were out.

Also now instead of thinking of what my friends are doing, I think about going to school and getting a good job.

Changing the way I think is the hardest thing to do, but if I can successfully do it, it will be the most rewarding.

Photo: Ted at Busch Gardens at 15 years old.