As I sit and think about a question that I was asked: "What was my first day in prison like?” I am forced to recall one of the hardest days in my life. I can’t help but be amazed at the contrast between the boy that I was then and the man that I am today.
The first day that I walked into prison was April 18, 2002. I was stripped naked in front of about 10 other men, and given some shampoo, to wash all of my hairs with. If you ask me, think this is the same shampoo that is used on dogs with flees, I'm not sure but I wasn't feeling it. I was given a prison number 410196. My name didn’t matter anymore. No nicknames or street names here. This number is what I would be referred to from that point on.
I was then escorted to a chow hall, to eat my first meal. Cold Pizza with thick dry crust and the chess that was like rubber. Nothing like the pizza that I enjoyed eating when I was free. As I forced myself to eat this meal, the prison number that I was given, kept running through my head. It reminded me of when slaves were being stripped of their identity. This number was now my name. The reality was starting to set in. I wasn’t going home. I couldn’t leave and go to the mall or go chill with my friends. I was sentenced to life without parole. This was my new home. As I sat thinking and eating that piece of dough that was given to me as a meal, all the people that were important to me started to run through my head. Would they miss me? Would they write or visit? Would they forget me?
I was told that I would be heading to a unit, where I had been assigned a cell. I had to stop at health service first. I walked pass several groups of prisoners. The first group of guys were about my age at the time (17), and early 20's. The other group of guys were much older, and they sat in a small room (health care), with a much more aggressive look than the first group. One of the guys in this group had big eyes, the whites of his eyes were yellow; with red veins running through them, and he smelled like a burning black & mild. I'd only been on earth 17 years, but if I didn't know anything else-- I knew that this guy had a past and it was not that great. It was this guy that informed me why I was in health service. I was there for my physical and HIV test.
As the words "HIV TEST" rolled off his tongue, a fear set in that I'd never experienced before. I had never been tested before. The flashing faces of woman that I had unprotected sex with started to pop up in my head. I was wrestling with all kind of emotions already. Uneasiness, dissatisfaction, anger, and now fear of this HIV test result. I didn't think my day could get any worst. I wouldn't get the result of this test back for weeks. Sometimes it’s not the knowing that kills you….it’s the waiting.
When I made it to the cell that I had been assigned to, I put everything on the bed that I was given and I had a conversation with myself and with God. I said to myself that I would be humble, but I wasn’t going for any nonsense. I guess this was the alpha male coming out of me. I'd heard so many crazy stories about prison. I could only imagine that at least 50% of them were true. I was young, I felt like a cub being placed in the jungle with lions, and all I knew is that I wasn't going to be Simba from the Lion King. This was one of the worst days of my life. And the nightmare is still going.
The first day that I walked into prison was April 18, 2002. I was stripped naked in front of about 10 other men, and given some shampoo, to wash all of my hairs with. If you ask me, think this is the same shampoo that is used on dogs with flees, I'm not sure but I wasn't feeling it. I was given a prison number 410196. My name didn’t matter anymore. No nicknames or street names here. This number is what I would be referred to from that point on.
I was then escorted to a chow hall, to eat my first meal. Cold Pizza with thick dry crust and the chess that was like rubber. Nothing like the pizza that I enjoyed eating when I was free. As I forced myself to eat this meal, the prison number that I was given, kept running through my head. It reminded me of when slaves were being stripped of their identity. This number was now my name. The reality was starting to set in. I wasn’t going home. I couldn’t leave and go to the mall or go chill with my friends. I was sentenced to life without parole. This was my new home. As I sat thinking and eating that piece of dough that was given to me as a meal, all the people that were important to me started to run through my head. Would they miss me? Would they write or visit? Would they forget me?
I was told that I would be heading to a unit, where I had been assigned a cell. I had to stop at health service first. I walked pass several groups of prisoners. The first group of guys were about my age at the time (17), and early 20's. The other group of guys were much older, and they sat in a small room (health care), with a much more aggressive look than the first group. One of the guys in this group had big eyes, the whites of his eyes were yellow; with red veins running through them, and he smelled like a burning black & mild. I'd only been on earth 17 years, but if I didn't know anything else-- I knew that this guy had a past and it was not that great. It was this guy that informed me why I was in health service. I was there for my physical and HIV test.
As the words "HIV TEST" rolled off his tongue, a fear set in that I'd never experienced before. I had never been tested before. The flashing faces of woman that I had unprotected sex with started to pop up in my head. I was wrestling with all kind of emotions already. Uneasiness, dissatisfaction, anger, and now fear of this HIV test result. I didn't think my day could get any worst. I wouldn't get the result of this test back for weeks. Sometimes it’s not the knowing that kills you….it’s the waiting.
When I made it to the cell that I had been assigned to, I put everything on the bed that I was given and I had a conversation with myself and with God. I said to myself that I would be humble, but I wasn’t going for any nonsense. I guess this was the alpha male coming out of me. I'd heard so many crazy stories about prison. I could only imagine that at least 50% of them were true. I was young, I felt like a cub being placed in the jungle with lions, and all I knew is that I wasn't going to be Simba from the Lion King. This was one of the worst days of my life. And the nightmare is still going.
To Be Continued,
Sir Robert,
Sir Robert,
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