“The Faces of Felons – Madison’s Daddy”

by Tony

“Men ought to be most annoyed by the suffering which come from their own faults”  Cicero

He is Aaron to me, “Butch” in family circles, but he is ‘Daddy’ to his daughter, Madison, who is 8 – “going on 9” Daddy said.

You may recall from an earlier writing that Aaron’s was the first friendly voice I heard upon arriving in the housing unit.  The friendly voice belongs to a 33-year old, cherubic-faced man of Polish/Irish descent with red hair and glasses who possess a higher-than-average intelligence, a better-than-average- intelligence, and a better-than-average sense of humor and has a stronger-than-average support system awaiting for him back in South Carolina where he is from and where he will return when he is released from prison in another 36 months. Continue reading ““The Faces of Felons – Madison’s Daddy””

“ The Faces of Felons – An Intermittent Series”

“ The Faces of Felons – An Intermittent Series”

“The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons”                  Attributed to Fyodor Dostoevsky

“There can be no high civility without a deep morality”   Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing”      Jesus

There is  one thread that ties all people in prison together – whether State or Federal Prisoner: whether male or female, (or as does happen) a combination of both; Whether brown, black, white, yellow or red; be they Christian, Muslim, Buddhist; Wiccan; Jewish, Atheist, Agnostic;  something  altogether different or altogether nothing at all’  no matter the charge, the socioeconomic background, or the levels of education – they (we) are all FELONS. Continue reading ““ The Faces of Felons – An Intermittent Series””

“Food, For Thought”

Food, in prison is not only a source of sustenance. It is also a thriving industry, a hobby, a way to pass time, as well as something to talk about, complain about and be thankful for.

Food is – other than the color of our clothes and the same confined habitat – the one thing we, as prisoners, all have in common.

I have written before about the food here and – while not great – it is edible and plentiful enough for its primary purpose, which is to keep us alive. Continue reading ““Food, For Thought””

“Welcome to Prison: Sense of Humor Required”

“Welcome to Prison: Sense of Humor Required”

I’m not sure laughter is the best medicine, but it surely helps to have some around to ensure that at least some tears are tears of joy.

I called my sister’s home on Thanksgiving morning to wish them all a Happy Day.  Larry – her husband – was in the background and I heard his muffled voice saying something to her, followed by her saying “ That’s sick!”   Of course, this perked up my ears so I had to ask, “What’s sick?”, whereupon she replied “oh, he said ‘he’d better not be calling to say he can’t make it to dinner’ “.

HA!

In the words of one of the Blue Collar Comedians, “I don’t care whut enybody sez,  At’s funny right ‘chere!” Continue reading ““Welcome to Prison: Sense of Humor Required””

“ A Future and A Hope”

“For I know the plans I have for you”  says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope”   Jeremiah 29:11 NLT

Of course, no man can foretell the future, but the future is certainly a matter of no small consequence to most people, myself included, particularly in light of the fact that society in general paints a pretty bleak picture when it is the future of a felon that in being looked at.  The landscape is bleaker still, even more barren when the felony is the nature of mine. Continue reading ““ A Future and A Hope””

An Incarcerated Christmas, Pt III

The Bible says “so if we have enough food and clothing, let there be content”  Tim 6:8 NLT

The clothing is not very stylish, but our bodies are covered.  The food – well, we are fed 3 meals a day and we won’t starve.  Sometimes it’s better than others, and trust me, I would love to have a 2” thick grilled Porterhouse, a little char on the outside, a little pink on the inside, and a lot juice everywhere, but – that will have to wait (excuse me while I wipe the drool from my chin).My prayers for Christmas morning focused on family and friends, and being thankful for both. Of course I miss my family very much, but I gave thanks to god for watching over them and blessing them. I prayed that my incarceration would not detract too much from their happiness on that day. Continue reading “An Incarcerated Christmas, Pt III”

An Incarcerated Christmas, II

There was no stocking hung by the chimney, with or without care.  There were no chestnuts roasting by an open fire. (Actually, an open fire would probably be good for another year or two.)   I didn’t set out any cookies or milk for Santa, either because someone would have eaten the cookies and drank the milk and it would have been the fat man. It might have been A fat man, but not THE fat man. Continue reading “An Incarcerated Christmas, II”

An Incarcerated Christmas Story

by Tony

My mother loved the holiday Season.  Her normally bright smiling face was a little brighter, her smile a little bigger during the holidays.

She suffered from macular degeneration among many other things, and was legally for several of the last years of her life.

I had the unique experience of spending 2-1/2 years of time on the world in Florida with her and my stepdad – Pop – who had a stroke at the end of 2004.

My duties included yard and house maintenance, cooking, shopping, shuttling them to their myriad of doctor appointments, and among other things, putting up the Christmas decorations when that time of year rolled along.

Mom was an incredible woman, and dealt with her physical limitations with as much strength and determination as any person could expect to – more than many would.  She went to the “Lighthouse for the Blind” in Ft Lauderdale to learn how to deal with her disability and she learned her lessons well.

In fact, with her ability to maneuver around her home including the kitchen and with the relaxed look on her face as she looked directly at you when she spoke with you, it was often easy to forget she really couldn’t see much at all.

I recall setting up their artificial Christmas tree, which had to be 15 years old – Pop always got his money’s worth out of something.  It had been shortened a little through the years, and some of the color-coded tags had fallen off, and the whole process of just setting up the tree itself and getting it all fluffed up was a task in and of itself.

The first Christmas I was there my stepsister, Adrienne – ‘yo Adrienne’ to me – set it up, in fact so she can offer first hand testimony to the challenge.

The lights would come next, and there were a lot of them, in fact 1,000 for a 6’ tree, and they had to be wrapped on each branch, from tip to trunk.

Pop would put most of the ornaments on, and when it was done it was a pretty sight.  A lot of depth to the lights, what with them placed all the way to the trunk and all. And bright. Possibly bright enough to be seen from space if placed in the front lawn.

But what exactly, could Mother see?  As she sat with her signature smile across her kind face, I asked, “What do you think?”  “It’s beautiful” she would say, rocking back and forth and hands clasped in front of her not unlike a child.

I would laugh and tease her “what the heck are talking about, you can’t even see!”

She would feign ignorance and say “Just stop it! That’s not true!”

“Ok, then – tell me, exactly what do you see, really?”

“Well”, she would say hesitantly. “I can see a bright light, like a halo, along the outline of the tree”, and she would draw the outline with her hands out in front of her.  She continued, “the inside of that outline is black”.  She sat back and looked up at me.

“That’s it?” I asked.  “That’s all you see?  No ornaments or anything?”

“Pretty much”, she said.

“Then, why do we go though all of this?” I asked tactlessly.

“Because I remember”, she said, looking at her past with a smile on her face, as she sat in her favorite chair.

I love my mother immensely, as do my children, my siblings, their children, and just about anyone else who ever met her.

She was the gentlest, kindest, most loving person I have ever known and any capacity I have for love I got from her.  I miss her tremendously, as we all do.

I am also thankful, in a way, that she is with God and not alive today for as much as I love her , I don’t think I could have faced myself in the mirror knowing how she would have been during these holidays that just past.

As it is, I am confident she is with all of us all, watching from Heaven, with the perfect vision  the Lord has given her back, and that she is reassured by him that this too shall pass and we will all get through this my children, my brothers and sisters and their families, my friends, and myself.

She helped me to see all the lights and decorations on the tree that wasn’t there this year.

Was this a horrible holiday, this Incarcerated Christmas?  Not at all.

And I’ll tell you all about it next time. . .

More Evil

By Tony Casson

We human beings are a curious lot.

We go places we shouldn’t go, look at things we shouldn’t look at, and wonder about things that have no business entering our minds.

We have a natural tendency to develop our own sense of morality and then we convince ourselves that everything we do is OK.

We pick and choose what profanities we will use, and when it is acceptable to sue them.

Somehow we have managed to program ourselves into believing that if it is shown on TV during primetime, then that exact behavior is acceptable in realtime.

Somewhere along the line making love was replaced with having sex and “looking slutty” was substituted for “being sexy”.

Morality and decency were displaced by our “freedom of expression” and our individual God-given Civi Rights, but it’s not OK to pray or have a relationship with God. And if you do, you’d damn well better keep it to yourself. Continue reading “More Evil”