Hangman's Noose...

     There's been a lot of talk in the news about racism lately, and about a noose found in Bubba Wallace's NASCAR garage, so I thought I'd share a story about an incident that happened years ago, when I was at the California Men's Colony (CMC), in San Luis Obispo, California. For reasons I still don't understand, the guard working in the gun tower thought it would be a good idea to hang a noose out the window to his gun tower. Think about that for a moment. He's in a ultra secure tower with only one way in, and one way out. He has a clear line of fire 360° around him, and he's fully "booted and suited." Riot shotguns, AR-15s, blockguns, pepper spray canisters in all sizes, and he's hanging a noose from the window in broad daylight, for all to see. Was he out of his mind? Was he about to snap and start shooting everybody on the yard? Because only a man who'd lost all touch with reality would do something like that.

     As you can imagine, his behavior caused quite the stir. We went to our Sergeant and demanded action. There we were, unarmed and in the middle of the prison yard, unarmed men of all races and walks of life, coming together and demanding change, while a lunatic armed to the teeth used this as an excuse to shoulder his weapon. Still, we refused to budge. I never did count the number of men surrounding our Sergeant that day, but suffice to say, he was heavily outnumbered. I was never more proud of my fellow man than I was that day, and after promises that it would be dealt with forthwith, we followed his request, request, not order (there truly is strength in numbers), to disperse. Moments later, the guard pulled the noose back into the window and glared at us with pure hatred. "Hate all you want," I thought, "but we win this round."

     I thought he'd be disciplined, or at least removed from the tower, but if memory serves me correct, we seen nothing of the sort. What we did see, however, were threats from the administration, about how we'd better not contact the media or file a grievance. I chose to do one better. * contacted Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, but neither ever bothered to respond. I wrote again and again, but never heard anything back. I believe my intended recipients simply didn't care enough about us to become involved because we were in prison, and because they knew they'd never be able to get the kind of media attention it seems to take to get their attention. Either way, I never felt so alone when week after week passed without a response.