“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””→
When I find a new opportunity, I swipe it away from my competitors — yes, as students, we are competitors. And when I seize the opportunity, I tell my friends and family about it.
My dad sent me an email to check on me and hear how things were progressing at school — – in life. He does this often, mind you. But my response was a little different than usual. I’m a busy person (horrid understatement), and my reply messages to him tend to include that much — “Just being busy”. This round, however, the reply included an update on the newest phase of my life.
Over winter break, something was bothering me. The previous January, I started my studies in a new major — New Media Communications with a minor in Creative Writing. After two years of engineering and living every day for the hope that I could reach my biggest goals, things were different. Writing was on my mind, and I told myself regularly that professional writing was the life for me; it wasn’t enough 12 months later.
If you’re given a gift, use it. If you’re given multiple gifts, use them all.
Between the contributions from my mom and dad, I have so many personality traits and odd talents that I have trouble grasping who “me” really is. But I sought clarity in December, and happy is “me”. For the first time in over a year, I saw a trail leading to something good — something secure, admirable, desirable, pleasant.
Friends and family prior to my stretch of writing madness knew me as the “racecar guy”. A job in motorsport was everything I wanted. When engineering died, the dream died. And I’m proud to say the dream returned, because I saw opportunity.
What my mom has: Fire, competitive spirit, confidence, infectious determination, and a nothing-is-impossible vision of life
What my dad has: Feel for humanity, character, compassion, a crazy-awesome sense of humor, constant optimism, and a do-only-what-makes-you-happy vision of life
The combination of the traits contribute to my interesting personality classification: INFJ (we had to take a test for a class).
I think I made my dad happy when I said motorsport Public Relations is my new goal, because he responded with “Very good idea. Maybe some of that flair comes from the old man ;-)”
No — ALL of that flair comes from my old man…but mom added the kick. Happy Valentines Day.
Music is just as important to our overall well-being as laughter, wouldn’t you agree?
Good because I have written a couple of tunes using the melodies from two recognizable songs, enabling each of you to sing along. Continue reading ““A Musical Interlude””→
“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, 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””→
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’ “.
I would like, first of all, to thank my sister’s husband, Larry, for volunteering to help Anthony unburden himself from typing some of my ramblings so that he may also focus more on his schooling, his work and being a young man.
My brother (he told me to drop the ‘in-law’) is a wonderful man and I am grateful to him for many things – not just this. My sister Kathy, too. I am blessed, truly.
As for Anthony – well to him I owe more than I can ever repay. For a father to ask a child to type is his words as he described his attempt to end his own life; as he describes his pain and his demons; as he tries to make a sense out of things that make no sense and explain the unexplainable – all I can say is I simply could not be more in awe of his strength, his sense of humor, his honesty, and his love, and I could not be more proud of him than I am.
There could be no greater wealth a man can have than the riches of the love and devotion my son has shown me. I am humbled by how great he is to me. He is a giant in my eyes and I will be eternally grateful to him for all that he has done, all that he has sacrificed, all that he is.
I love you, my son.
I’m sorry you have to live through this with me., but I am glad you stand beside me, and I will make things right. It’s an honor and a priviledge to know you – your Grandmother would be – is proud.
As for all of you who are kind enough to read all that has been written to this point and, hopefully, will stick around to see what happens next – THANK YOU!
Tony
Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures though every circumstance.
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”→
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”→
My e-mail is always full, but I check everything. For my generation, staying connected is both a way of life and an easy task. I don’t expect older generations to have a similar stance, and I would never expect the US prison system to veer from snail mail. But it has.
On a regular basis, I’ll see another piece of email. It looks like spam. But it’s not spam. It’s my father sending me a message from prison:
“Hey Antone! I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”
He was granted access to email via a third-party service supplied by the prison. The idea is a good one, and it’s easier than mail — obviously. That helps lazy sons like me…and I love it!
The Oakdale Chronicles 