By Tony Casson
On the subject of the viewing of child pornography via the internet, it is important to TRY to understand–and for many, I realize it will be very difficult TO understand, which is why I said TRY–to TRY to understand that in many, many of today’s prosecuted cases for possession of child pornography obtained via the internet, the behavior is not so much criminal intent as it is a moral meltdown of major proportions. Continue reading “Turn On Your Lights!”
By Tony Casson
McDonald’s, masturbation, pornography, and prison–no one eats there, nobody does it, no one looks at it, and nobody did it. Yeah…
Prior to surrendering at Oakdale, while spending some absolutely wonderful time at my sister Kathy’s home in Virginia, Kathy and I would watch a little afternoon TV.
One afternoon, Oprah came on and her show was all about the dramatic increase in the number of women who viewed pornographic material. Continue reading “Failing At Freedom”
By Tony Casson
I did not wake up for about 24 hours, and when I did, I was in the intensive care unit, and I was conscious for just a moment, long enough to be aware that I was still alive, that I was connected to all sorts of machines, that there was something stuck down my throat, and my hands were encased in these really soft, really thick gauze mittens. Continue reading “Evil is Seductive: Part 5”
“Lights out”
The tears that stain my pillow Only fall at night, When I am in the darkness And out of others’ sight.—
I pray for the forgiveness Of my daughter, and my son, And for determination To fight this till it’s done.—
The loneliness that settles in When I should be asleep, I ward off with a prayer For my soul the Lord to keep.—
The darkness that I do feel now Is just the one at night And not the one that took my soul When out of others’ sight.—
Perhaps the tears that fall will stop And one night sleep will come. My pillow, dry for sleeping, My fighting, finally done. ~ Tony Casson, 2010By Tony Casson
I know I asked God to look after my mother, and I thanked him for giving her to me. I also asked him to look after my children, and thanked him again.
Apologizing for being less of a human than I should have been, I then asked him for forgiveness.
I prayed for all of the people who looked up to me–who respected me–who loved me, and would now feel betrayed by and disappointed in me. Continue reading “Evil is Seductive: Part 4”
By Tony Casson
“When you look long into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.” ~F. Nietzsche
The image of myself in the mirror was blurred by my tears, but I could see where the sharp edges of the razor blades touched my skin.
Time, damn it! Time! I was running out of time! Continue reading “Evil is Seductive: Part 3”
By Tony Casson
It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in. I had known for about a year and a half that the FBI would come for me sooner or later (more on that another time), but now that they were here and once it HAD sunk in, I did an about-face and returned to my room.
Fortunately for me–at least that’s the way I felt at the moment–no one saw me, as their attention was focused on the motel office where they must have determined I was going to be at that time, on that day. Continue reading “Evil is Seductive: Part II”
By Tony Casson
August 18, 2009 began for me pretty much like any other day in recent memory. I had just returned from dropping off the dirty linens from the tiny, rundown motel where I worked and lived.
It was a typical day in south Florida for that time of year. It was warm early, the sun was shining, and I was looking forward to finishing my “tour of duty” at the front desk and enjoying the day. Perhaps a little afternoon kayaking, a hobby I had taken up about a month earlier and taken an immediate liking to.
After I had returned from dropping off the laundry, I walked to my room at the other end of the parking lot to do something, I’m not sure what. I had moved into unit #4 a couple of months earlier after my siblings and I had sold our parents’ house, where I had lived since December 2004.
I had moved into their house in December. “Pop” (our step-father) had a stroke the day after Thanksgiving while visiting one of my sisters and it was felt that they needed some help if they were to continue living in their own home. It worked out that I was available to move in and help, and I did exactly that for several years until they both passed away within months of one another–9 weeks to be exact–earlier in 2008. Selling their home had caused me to move into the motel I had worked at, which was inherited by a neighbor and his sister when their Mother was hit by a car crossing the busy street in front of the motel. I had decided to stay there until I could decide a new course of action.
Finishing whatever it was I had gone to my room to do, I walked out the door and turned the corner to cross the parking lot and return to the office, roughly 80-feet away.
As I turned that corner, I noticed activity at the other end of the lot, in front of the office. Apparently, a couple of vehicles had pulled in while I had been in my room and I noticed several people moving about. On the backs of two of the jackets, I noticed the letters “FBI”.
I knew then that a new course of action was about to unfold, and I also knew it would not be pleasant for me, my friends, or my family.
The FBI had come to arrest me, and I was about to let down everyone I had ever known or loved…
(To be continued…..)
By Tony Casson
The dental exam went in similar fashion–the dentist looked around and told me to put in a request (called a “cop-out”) to be added to the list to be seen for cleaning and filling. From what I have been told, the list requires a wait of 10-12 months, the same goes for optical.
Fortunately, since I am over 50 years old, I am entitled to a “complete physical” every year, otherwise I would only get one every two years.
Educationally speaking, there does seem to be some push to make sure people get at least a GED, and I am led to believe that the institution receives a bonus of $2500 for each person receiving one. But I have no way of verifying that.
There is a list of “self-study” courses that are available, so I picked one up on “writing a marketing plan”. Thought it might be interesting, and you do get “credit” for it. It’s a booklet that is actually informative, I had 7 days to complete it and return it, and the “final exam” consisted of 4 questions and was included with the booklet.
The recreational facilities available are far greater, better funded, better attended, and better supported, and while I would agree that recreation is important, I think education is more so.
I read before coming in here that the national literary rate is 96%, but the literary rate of incarcerated individuals is more like 50%! Continue reading “Great Expectations: Part II”
By Tony Casson
Thanks to the research of my sister Kathy, I was able to read quite a bit about the Federal B.O.P. in general, and Oakdale in particular, before I ever walked through the front door.
The orientation book for Oakdale is available online and is chock full of information on how the prison can help you become a better person while you are inside and prepare you fro your life when you get out.
After reading all of the material, one is left with the impression that the healthcare is going to be great and that eye care and dental is provided at no cost. Great! I need new glasses, haven’t been to the dentist in forever, and I really could use a complete physical—I’m 56 and there have to be a few things in need of repair, right?
I also read that education opportunities exist, and this excites me! I’m an old dog, but I bet I can still learn some new tricks!
Furthermore, it is expected that each inmate—with the exception of those who are medically exempt or in a GED or vocational program—will “find a job”.
All in all, when you look these info books over, the place doesn’t sound so bad—for prison, of course.
Perception, it seems, is always slightly different from reality and the well-intentioned programs developed by highly paid bureaucrats sitting around massive, expensive, neatly polished conference tables, surrounded by pots of steaming, freshly brewed coffee, delicious pastries and fresh squeezed juices, with large staffs of well-meaning, but naïve junior bureaucrats are as far removed from life’s realities as that conference table is removed from the swamps of southwest Loozeeanna!
How are the programs not working?
Let’s look at medical—the “entrance exam” as it were.
New arrivals are “called out” to the hospital a few days after being placed in general population for a “physical exam”, which the official handbook calls “complete”.
I arrive at the appointed time, along with about 30 other people. We are called in about six at a time into a hallway that contains a few chairs and a couple of balance scales. We are told to weigh ourselves and remember the number. One of the two physician’s assistants (PAs) then calls us to the end of the hallway and drags out one chair, a blood pressure machine on a rolling stand, a pad of post-its, and a pencil. He looks at me and says, “You look like an accountant”, and hands me the post-its and pencil, shows me how to strap the blood pressure “cuff” on an arm, push the button, and write down the numbers, including the pulse. He takes the first person in the examination room and tells me to do the rest of the people in the hallway.
I do as instructed, including asking each person what his weight was, and put it all together on a the paper and hand it to each person, saving myself for last.
When it was my turn to be called in, I was ready for my “exam”. I really hadn’t had a complete physical in 30 years or so.
Well, I was instructed to sit in a chair next to a desk and gave him the information on my paper (my BP was really quite good, by the way) and proceeded to answer a list of questions similar to what one might answer on new patient paperwork. Then…that was it!
That was the Federal Government version of a “complete” physical.
Let me think—did we not just pass a government healthcare bill?
Hmmm………………………..
The Oakdale Chronicles 