Letters From The Inside

A look into the life behind bars. The letters are not typed up by the man on the inside. I'm a close friend of his, and he asked me to start this blog to inform people of what really goes on in an Ohio jail on a daily basis. He writes the letters to me, and I type them up on this blog. The blog name was his idea, and the letters are written exactly in his words.

[letters-fromtheinside]

Sunday, August 16th, 2015

Day 122 - I haven't been posting these much lately, mainly because of stress level has been astronomical. Knowing my fate rests in one person's hands makes my stomach turn. My appetite is next to nothing, I cant sleep. I REALLY don't want to go to prison, but that's not up to me. Since I've posted last, I have a new cell made. The one who I did have, Paul Stambough of Parma, OH, is serving a one year prison sentence for choke slamming his wife into the ground. Drunken train wreck or not, you don't do that. At all. He seems to think he can get out in 90 days since it was in the violent crime, all because it was charged as "attempted domestic violence". Yea, no sympathy for him, none. As it stands, I may be eligible for judicial released within 180 days of getting to the sorting location, Lorain Correctional Institution. Which means I'll be spending at least 6 months in prison, on top of what I already have, so nearly a year total. April of next year or so, I'll be able to request a release. I'll still have to serve the time under certain guidelines, but at least I'll be out. Let's hope, at least. The people on here have been amazingly supportive, I can't say that enough. I've made some really great friends, ones who I hope I continue to stay in contact with once I get out. For now, I try to remain positive, as hard as it is. I can't help but wonder where I'd be if I just stayed home that day. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

Thursday, August 13th, 2015.

I want to scream, but can't seem to find the air to do so. I'm trying so hard to stay positive, to remain focused on the big picture. The worst moment of my life took place in a tiny room, with a man I've given a lot of money to, and put all of my hope and faith in, only to hear that the deal which was "so atrocious, it would be considered normal practice to take", is now precisely what they want to do. Seriously? Can they fucking not? I'm trying so, so hard not to go off on a rant, but I really don't feel like I have a choice otherwise. 2-8 years, as if it were nothing. Literally rolled of his tongue as if it were just words in a sentence. Of course, if it's not his life on the line, those are just words in a sentence. That sentence, of course, being the one which rules the output of my life. Of course, the judge hasn't heard about all the good things I've done in the interest of mitigation and self preservation. He hasn't heard my side of the story. He only knows of the charges and what council and state have presented him. I still have some room to redeem myself, and hopefully move towards the "2" side of things. On the downside, no matter how this turns out, it's destined to haunt me for the rest of my life. There goes that office job, unless I start the company myself, which I just may do. There are a few key individuals who have been beyond supportive in my journey, the true rocks I can lean on. You know who you are. I realise this is going to be a long, hard journey. One with many stumbling blocks. But with the help and love of my friends and some of my family, I'll get through it, I am confident. It's only a matter of time, it can't last forever. I hope you all will join me as we make this journey into the unknown. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

July 8th, 2015

Today has been a test of my patience, and my faith. The counter offer to the plea agreement we proposed was presented to me yesterday, and was literally so awful, my lawyer said that for him to suggest taking it would be malpractice, more or less. As much as I don’t want this to drag on any further, I’m really not ready for the concept of trial. I don’t want to speak on the events that happened, I don’t want to drag anyone through the mud, I just want it all to go away. I just want my life back. I want the few bad decisions I made along with the consequences of them all, to fade into the sunset. 13 months ago, a mistake was made. I did not act alone, in any shape or form. I just want this to all be a bad dream. I just want to go home. On the upside, the family and friends who have showed their love and support continue to lift me up, and if I ever feel alone, I can pull out their letters and see that clearly I am not. My conditions here are less than desirable, and some claim they’re actually illegal to an extent. One man cells are forced to house 2 inmates, The food portions are skimpy to say the least, there’s black mould on the ceiling where the roof leaks, gnats occupy the shower area, staf and MRSA infections are not uncommon, medical requests aren’t answered sooner than 4 weeks later, it’s literally impossible escape the overhead lights, which stay on 24/7… The list goes on and on. All I can hope for is a desirable outcome on my case. I realise this post does not reflect my usual bright and sunny nature, but it straight from the heart. I’m scared. I’m not cut out for this. If anyone who has any influence on the outcome of my case happens to read this, consider it a cry for help. Please. I can’t do this alone. Please.

Sincerely, and desperately, Me.

[letters-fromtheinside]

July 5th, 2015

Sunday night is upon us once again. I thought for sure we would be locked in all weekend due to the holiday, but thankfully we were not. Last night's fireworks weren't within eyesight, unfortunately. But I was able to hear it, and catch a glimpse here and there of a show off in the distance. As usual life and here comes to a screeching halt on the weekends, but first thing in the morning will come back, and we'll do it all over again. Depression has been bad this week, and the lack of information only compounds things, I've found. I hate being in the dark, but at the same time I have a small anxiety attack everytime I meet with the literal team of lawyers I have on my side. I can't seem to find the happy place I once had, The calm and serenity I tell people to find, has left me entirely. It's hard, knowing that life is continuing without you, and there isn't anything you can do about it. I recently started doing crossword puzzles and sudoku, just to distract myself. My writing has suffered, everything I touch seems to crumble. The less I think about life beyond these concrete walls, the better off I seem to be, but it's hard. Also, all of my phone calls now come out of one phone card, that I have to pay for. So the daily requirements of calling my parents now affects my ability to call other people. There are some people have been less than understanding of this fact. But that's okay I suppose. I can only affects so much of what goes on, and the rest I just have to let go. My cellmate has reached a new level of boundary crossing. I've been asked to rub ointment all over his back, on the fungus growing under his skin. Publicly. It sucks that he has that, I'm sure, but that falls outside the scope of my responsibility, frankly. He's managed since he was 18 without my help, I think you can do you a little longer. How are sub-par dinner is here. Until next time. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

July 2nd, 2015

Oh happy days, letter from my father containing money from my commissary arrived. I've been stressing out all week, since normally it takes eight days for any and all mail to be processed, and was only three dollars, I would have little to no food for the upcoming week. Not to mention, no phone calls at that. The fact that I haven't heard from my lawyers at all since the 8th of last month is worrisome to me to say the least. Surely there has to be some sort of developments, even small ones. This upcoming weekend is 4 July, which means we'll be locked in our cells the entire weekend, as shortstaffed as we are. But that means I have more time to write, I guess. NANOWRIMO Is coming up in November, and, if I'm still locked up, I'm going to participate. With as much as I write as it is, it would be silly not to. I have three months to prepare a theme, and then 31 days to make it happen. With an ink pen, no less! I'm trying to stay positive, and distracted, but it's hard to do, really. Letters from friends and family help, they really do. And when I get sad and distracted from the discouraging nature of this place, I can open them up, and lose myself in the kind words of those who support me. Lunch was Salisbury steak, and unseasoned pasta, which is entirely better than "cop out sandwiches", or bologna, cheese, and mustard. I also had to peanut butter and jelly sandwich is, because I'm 5. And some chips. I was hungry, okay? Dinner is horrible spaghetti, so I'll be creating a classic favourite of mine – the news from a ramen packet, pulled chicken in wings sauce, and jalapeño cheese, mixed together on a potato chip bag. Cold. That is a highly treasured meal in here, next to what we're usually served. In other news, and inmate was led out in handcuffs yesterday for making sexual advances towards his cellmate. I wish I was kidding. This was after he walked up the stairs with his ass hanging out of his pants. Entirely. Just another day in 11B. Naptime for me, dear reader. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 30th, 2015.

It seems that some people must love being in jail, based on the amount of repeat offenders we have on here. One gentleman in particular, was released yesterday, and went to the library. To look up the home address of the C.O.. He went to his house at 9 PM last night, asking for work, and begged to be allowed to sleep in the garage. He was asked to leave, and the C.O.s wife called the police. They immediately knew who he was. The person in question then called the cops racist and then spit on their shoes. He was blessed with more than justified beat down by Lakewood police. Why, would you look up the address of a guard, and visit his home at 9 at night, expecting positive results? What makes you honestly think anything good could come out of that situation? Today was intentionally quiet for me. we were locked in our room is for the first half of the day, and I slept through the second half intentionally. The more you sleep, the less time you have to think. This is a mixed blessing, really. When it all seems like too much, sleep helps things. But at the same time, the quiet solace of your cell is comforting in the sense that you're afforded an opportunity to reflect on your past, your present, and your future. My case is starting to get the best of me, I fear. My happy demeanour is often replaced by sadness and depression. A lot of it has to do with my cell mates demeanour, since I am locked in a room with him on a nightly basis. Admittedly, it's difficult to maintain my faith with him using religion to justify his actions. At times, it makes me not want to believe at all. But, I'm reminded by the little things throughout the day, that I am in fact loved, blessed, and cared for. I will survive this, and come out a stronger person. It's just going to be hard. Tomorrow is a new day, which means a chance for more mail, more experiences, and an opportunity to better myself. I know this blog isn't the cheeriest at times, but what it is, is sincere. I promise never to convey feelings which aren't true, or to paint my situation as anything other than what it is. Thank you all for reading. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 29th, 2015

I'm incredibly homesick, and I can't seem to shake this weight off my shoulders tonight. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I miss my house. I miss my truck. I miss my cats. I miss my dog. I miss my fish. I miss my yard. I miss painted walls. I'm sitting on things that weren't made of steel. I miss the sun. I miss carpet. I'm miss feeling the wind in my face. I miss rain. I miss the warm smile of a cashier. I miss phone calls that weren't $0.21 per minute. I miss opening my own mail. I miss being able to cross the hall without being frisked from head to toe. I miss showering alone. I miss toilets that weren't made of stainless steel. I miss looking in mirrors that were actually mirrors. I miss drinking out of a straw. I miss eating off of a plate. I miss having lights that turned off. I miss windows are opened. I miss beds that were semi-soft. I'm miss going to bed when I wanted to. I miss falling asleep on the couch. I miss making my own meals. I miss watching movies when I felt like it. I miss the sound of birds. I miss watching squirrels. I miss music. I miss soaking in a hot bath. I miss the smell of cologne. I miss the taste of juice. I miss the crunch of leaves under my feet. I miss the texture of grass. I miss the sound of a dog lapping at a water bowl. I miss the feeling of being held. I miss the feeling of a soft hand on my back while I'm half awake. I miss being smile that. I miss comfortable silences. I miss being on Skype for hours and hours. I miss going on adventures. I miss getting shakes. I miss exploring cities. I miss riding in the car, sometimes 10 hours at a time. I miss running. I miss biscuits and gravy every weekend. I missed calling biscuits "scones". I miss telling you that a song reminded me of you and I. I miss zoo trips. I miss smiling in the morning. I miss little moments. I miss you.

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 28th,2015

Another Sunday, which means another week has come and gone. To be fair, this past week has flown by, truly. I got mail 4/5 days this week, which helps immensely, including some from a likely source. Expected mail is awesome, surprise mail is a shock to say the least. We got catch up for the third week in a row, and, chocolate pudding! I know some of you may disregard this is trivial, but when you're at the mercy of your captors, any kind of treat or added luxury is the cause of celebration, truly. It's raining and cold outside, which makes being in redzone entirely more bearable. This is the perfect day for a nap, or 3. Hopefully my lawyer has some good news, so maybe I can continue on to the next leg of my journey, and eventually back home. At the moment, I have to take things one day at a time, and focus on keeping the dark thoughts at bay. It's hard, I won't lie. The concept of ending it all seems so easy, any instant relief from the ever present impending doom that awaits me, not to mention the time involved in the aftermath. I've lost felt friends and loved ones to read this entire ordeal, people who vowed to always be there for me, simply turn their backs. No one is perfect, and everyone makes mistakes. It's not true what they say, you can always go back home, but apparently you're not welcome down certain streets. My porch light was always on, why isn't yours? It is what it is, I guess. This has truly been a learning experience, that is for sure. "My eyes are open wide, by the way, I made it through today" if you're reading this, and you want to write me, you may. No matter who, no matter our past, if you know me. Just sending ask, and the fantastic person who runs this blog will help you get the message to me. Until we meet again, I hope this finds you well. Sincerely, 0306743 P.S. you're a really good hider.

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 25th, 2015

Wow, is it Thursday already? Time flies when you're wearing orange… Ha, jokes. I've got an male 3/4 days this week so far, which is nice. Tonight's dinner is supposed to be spaghetti, but they have a history of changing things without notice, so I won't get my hopes up. But, just in case, I'm preparing my noodles, and quite literally sitting on the bag of "Pulled chicken in wings sauce" in preparation for the meal I'm creating. I also have some rice from the other day that I'll be mixing in, just to make it more feeling. To accompany this, I've got tortilla chips as well. Depression is prevalent today, but it seems to come and go in waves. I don't want to walk in circles, I don't want to watch TV, I just want some time in my own little world, and to be happy, and at peace inside. I called my parents early this morning, because I was under the impression we would be locked in our cells for a majority of the day. Thankfully we weren't, but it was nice to hear from them regardless. It seems my mother is more lucid and coherent in the morning is. I equate it to not being at work all day, undoubtedly. Plus the mental and physical training of watching my siblings at night. It can't be easy, and I commend all the mothers who manage to keep their sanity. There are some days when I question whether or not I'll be a good father, if I truly have what it takes to be a dad. But, as with anything, there is a learning curve, and it will come to me as time progresses. I've just finished my meal of cold ramen noodles, pulled chicken and wings sauce, jalapeño squeeze cheese, and tortilla chips, and I'm not one to break tradition, so I'll nap now. Goodnight. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 24th, 2015

Today, I was scheduled to have yet another pre-trial. I wasn't really expecting to be called to the courtroom, or even a holding cell, but there was a glimmer of hope that my lawyer would come see me. It's the annoying part, that bothers me. I just like to know something other than my next court date, which I don't even know at this point. But, I just need to be patient I suppose. Every day that i'm in here is a day that I don't spend in prison, if I get any time at all in the first place. Today, an S.R.I. sergeant visited our pod, and on his side was it done. Not a normal gun, either. I was informed that fired special balls, that's when they landed and burst, they would cover and 4000 ft.² area with pepper gas, and was the poor ventilation, it wouldn't disperse for several hours. Scary stuff. My day was going well, until I spoke with my father, who kindly reminded me that things can go horribly wrong in a matter of moments, and that I'm not out of the woods by a long shot. Not exactly what someone who is already stressed out wants to hear, especially from a family member. I haven't been sleeping well lately, I can't seem to get comfortable, and I've spent a lot of time wondering where I went wrong, and just how I let myself get to this point. Tonight's dinner was the "veal" patty normally reserved for Sunday night, which begs the question – what are they planning for Sunday night? Enquiring minds want to know! Another ceiling tile fell today, and of course, no chance of fixing the roof any time soon. So, we'll just deal with the leaky ceiling, the constant slip hazard, and the black mould spreading across the wall. It's safe, right? It's little things like this to make me appreciate being out that much more. Until tomorrow, stay safe, and hug your parents. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 23rd, 2015

All in all, today was a good day. I got a letter from Greg, the guy who went to prison on Monday. It broke my heart to read that he was sad, lonely, and depressed. During intake at least, he is on 23 and 1, which means he is locked in his cell for 23 hours, only allowed out for one. I can't imagine how awful that must be. Tomorrow is pre-trial for me, and hopefully my lawyer will be presenting me with a counter offer from the prosecutor. We have compelling evidence for my defence, and my lawyer is very, very good, so I have high hopes. My depression has been in check today, which is good. The Celexa they have me on seems to be doing its job. Don't get me wrong, it still sucks being here, but the medication they have me on helps keep the bad thoughts in check. Tonight's dinner was beef stew, and for being county food, it wasn't too bad. Lunch was chicken tenders, mac + cheese, and pudding. That is actually the height of culinary expertise here. Yep, it's that bad. The food is supplied by Sysco, and the truck that delivered is labelled "Grade D" on the side. Which, is the same grade as dogfood, as I understand. But like all things, I will survive this too. If these blog entry seem short, I apologise. There are some days are even writing, a passion of mine, is not an easy task. It's less about sitting down performing the act, and more about getting my mind to focus on one thing only. As I've stated before, I love each and every one of you, and I'm very grateful for anyone who takes time to read this. Sincerely, Deano

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 22nd, 2015

Ah, yes. Monday. It's a rejuvenation, of sorts. Mail, commissary, church, court, it all starts back up again. I always look forward to it, because those who have written me get a response, as well as mail from the absolute saint who has been kind enough as to run this blog for me. There are new items on commissary this week, One of which is macaroni and cheese. Now, being a connoisseur of cheesy pasta, I had to buy it. For $4.50, I got 3oz. of pasta, and powder cheese. It comes in two pouches, powder on one side, pasta on the other side. The instructions, are to add half a cup of very hot water to it. Oh, yes. Very hot. Because the state provides microwaves in our cells. Nope. Nor is a bowl provided, so you're to pour the water in the pouch, and wait for them to expand, and then add the cheese. And, eat it out of the package. Where is the love?? They also offer a lasagna, and "pork patty in bbq sauce" as well. I can't remember how much the small singleserving of mac and cheese have, but I think it's more than 3 oz. And I know for a fact, that for $1.50, I can get 1.5 boxes of the same product. Oh! Not to mention there is no butter, or salt. I haven't even opened it, and I know I won't buy it again. I'm hoping to make my food stretch for two weeks, because I am once again, out of money. I just have to get creative with my meals, and ration them out carefully. Until next time. Sincerely, The hungry one

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 21st, 2015

Fathers day is upon us, and even though I’ve been locked in my room since 10 AM, it hasn’t been that bad – for me at least. I do feel sorry for the rest of the inmates, however. There are so many with children that can’t be with them right now, and despite their best intentions, may not see them for quite some time. Such is the case with my own father. I called in this morning at 9 AM my time, and he was have asleep. I know he gets up early, so I don’t feel too bad waking him up, really. And, we are locked in all day because they shortstaffed. A lot of the inmates voice their displeasure for this, and at first I did as well. But then I realised I was selfish to do so, because they had lives that existed be on these four walls, and they shouldn’t stop because I was here. After I came to terms with the fact that I was in the wrong, I was much happier. I have written letters, taken some quality naps, and had plenty of time to reflect on things, both my present and my past. I’m still upset over a phone call I had Monday night, and don’t anticipate being “fine” any time soon. I have so many questions in my head, it’s likely will never be answered. All I can do is pray and meditate on the issue, and hope it resolves itself soon. Dinner will be served soon, and despite people calling it veal, I know on good authority that they only serve turkey and soy based meats here, so it can’t be veal. Probably turkey and soy, breaded with gravy, with mediocre potatoes on the side. But for now, I will nap.

Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 20th, 2015

Another day has come and gone, with nothing out of the ordinary coming to pass. I spend a few hours with the C.O. today doing a crossword puzzle, which was nice. Any chance to exercise my mind is always a good thing. I managed to get my phone calls for the day out of the way by 9 AM, which is a good thing because we had an early night. This morning I found myself engaged in a very interesting conversation. Someone asked me "what is the one thing they can't take from you in this world?". In my opinion, this is a very easy question. Free will. I have the ability to choose my actions, no matter how greater small. Yes, for certain things there may be consequences, but in the end, those things are my choice. His argument was that God could not be taken from you. But, the choice to believe in God, is your free will. Still, he relented and asked five more people the same question, thoroughly convinced he was right. Sadly, I was unable to get through to him. Oh well, such is life. Tomorrow is fathers day, and I'm anticipating being locked in my room all day. That is give me time to write, sleep, read my bible, and read a book. Not to mention the quiet time which is always good for reflection. It's late now so close the sentry out. I wish you all the best, and may the desires of your hearts come true. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 19th, 2015.

It's Friday morning, and the staff shortage has once again left us in an early morning redzone, at least until lunch. The typical groans from the other inmates were prevalent this morning. I think I'm the only one in the pod who actually enjoys it, because people are actually forced to be quiet, the TV isn't on, and it allows me to write all of you. I'm down to 12 sheets of paper, which may not last me all weekend, but I'll do my best. My mind has been tormented with recent events this week, I'm still blind sided with the mental anguish brought on by Monday's phone call. Out of respect, I won't delve publicly into what happened, just know that things are far from ok. Today's lunch is chili, or a less-than-reasonable facsimile thereof. I've already given the entire tray away, I have no desire to eat two helpings of beans in one day. Tonight's dinner is ham and beans, which I always look forward to. It's one of the few meals the county consistently does right. I mopped out our cell this morning, it's really needed. The dust bunnies were starting to accumulate heavily, and my cellmates tends to make quite a mess. I posted recently about not knowing what to write to my father, yet when I put the pen to paper, the words come naturally. I told him about my daily routine, what it was like to live at 47 other guys, etc. i'm sure it will evoke a response, even if it's just a "hmm." I close this entry out of a positive note by saying this – "we can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of my treasures." - Thornton Wilder. I'm aware of how blessed I am, and I'm thankful for every person who stands by my side. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 18th, 2015

Another Thursday has come and gone, with the primary difference being that we had a substitute C.O., because our regular one is on vacation. Tonight he decided to lock five guys who were gambling in a cell for the night. In my two months here, this is the first time I've ever seen anything like this. Not the gambling part, but something being done about it. Out of the 10 or so tables, at any given night there's only one that doesn't constantly play cards are dominoes. And that is the one in front of the TV. The face of the pod is changing, and I don't like it. There is a significant lack of warmth on the inmates. There are still people I'm friends with, and I can always find a spot to blend in somewhere, but the feeling of "this is a regular table" is gone. The chessboard has even moved from its standard position after two months of consistency. But, on the brighter side, some of the phones which have been broken are now fixed, and the three holes in the roof have gained attention. Without any luck, they will be fixed by the fall. Tomorrow is Friday, which is the last day of the week for mail, so the push is on to get out any last-minute letters. My father asked me to write him, which I will happily oblige. The question is, what do you say to the person you talk to you on the phone every day? I guess I could lead with things that will reassure him of my confidence, that everything is under control, and next year will be better. It has to be better. Fathers day is coming up on Sunday, I need to make sure I have enough on my phone card to call him. I realise this entry is delayed, so to all those read this, I hope your fathers day was special and memorable. Sincerely, 0306743

[letters-fromtheinside]

June 17th, 2015

It's Wednesday already, and I'm not sure how. Monday was emotionally a very difficult day for me. Between my closest friend in here going to prison, and suffering an intensely personal loss on the outside, I can't remember the last time I was in so much pain. I can't sleep, it has even become a struggle to sit down and write – something I have a deep passion for. Hence the reason I didn't make an entry for yesterday. It's not writers block, it's just painful. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to shake this feeling of dread and looming guilty over my head. It's become a cloud of darkness, following my every step. But, on to other things. This morning a fellow inmates played his case to me for about 20 minutes, trying his hardest to convince me of his innocence. It's not that I don't believe him, but I'm not the one he needs to convince. Regardless, i still humored him, and assured him through God all things are possible. I know he has faith, and like me, tries to surrender all you can to him, but it's still hard, regardless. Breakfast was biscuits and gravy, but not like you would think. The biscuits were cooked to the point of rubber, and the gravy had no spice. I choked down all that I could, trying my hardest not to use my commissary. Lunch should be here in an hour so, although I'm not sure what it's going to be. I'm trying my hardest not to focus on recent events, although it's hard. My world got smaller, in a matter of minutes. I just wish I could make it right. Sincerely, The broken boy in cell 13