This memoir is a collection of memories, stories, and experiences that have shaped my transformation from a 15 year old boy navigating life and death in the streets of my hometown, to finding hope in a maximum security adult prison with a life without parole sentence, and building a life of freedom beyond prison walls. My sincerest hope and intention is that you will connect with the shared human experience of overcoming your circumstances and worst mistakes to become the person you were always meant to be.
‘The ride to Menard felt like the longest ride of my life. Actually, at that time, it was the longest ride of my life by far. Every hour I hoped that we were almost there. Every time we left the highway and drove through a small town I thought we were about to pull up at any moment. I was disappointed every time. It wasn't until I noticed that our speed started to decelerate and stayed that way for a full minute or two, I knew we were in town and I would be pulling up at any moment. I was right.’
We were lined up against the wall on the unit waiting for the officer to assign each of us a cell to go into. A guy in line with me was called and told to go to a certain cell. Immediately, there were several men from the other cells shouting at the new guy telling him not to go into that cell. They were telling him that his would be celly was a sexual predator. The previous guy who lived there had to move out of there.
Now, whether the guy in that cell was actually a sexual predator or not, I don’t know. However, I’ll say two things. The fact is that those men seemed very concerned and serious as they were trying to warn the new guy. Second, sexual predators do exist in prisons. Some of them earn the title for the crimes that landed them in prison. Some earned the title from crimes they committed while in prison. Anyway, the new guy who was about the same size as me - 5 foot 7” 140 lb wisely refused to go in the cell with that guy. The officer actually tried to force him to go into the cell. It blew my mind. Ultimately, he was reassigned to another cell or he may have been taken to segregation for “refusing housing”.
As I walked past the potential predator’s cell heading toward my own, I glanced inside. The man was much taller and heavier than the new guy they were about to put in the cell with him. They should not have been assigned to live with each other. He also appeared to have some mental health issues going on. He was standing in the middle of the cell with his shirt off. Come on man.
Seeing this made me angry. I was angry because I started to believe that the accusations against the guy may have been true. I was also angry because the officers knew better or they should have known. Nobody should be put in a situation like that. if the accusations against that man were true, the new guy could have been easily been the victim of a violent rape, probably repeatedly. or he could potentially be charged with murder as a result of that guy’s attempts.
As I was heading to my cell, I was no longer tired or exhausted. My adrenaline was through the roof and I was in fight / survival mode. My introduction to prison was a guy having to avoid going into a cell with a potential sexual predator.
I just knew that I was going to get a f***** up celly. I wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings between us in case he wasn’t interested in compatibility. I stepped up to the cell with my face all twisted up as I waited for the door to open. There was a window to the cell but I couldn’t see inside because the lights had been out. My celly didn’t know I was coming. Once the officer opened the door and the light came on, my celly was sitting on his bunk looking up at me. He was in his sixties. I was 17 and he was in his mid-60s. I relaxed immediately. I felt relieved. I could tell right away that he was a smooth guy.
Introducing myself to him didn’t feel awkward. It didn’t feel forced like it had every other time I had to go into a cell with a stranger. After getting settled in I was back to being exhausted. I wanted to fade out but force myself to stay up and kick it with my celly. I wanted to set a solid foundation moving forward for our time together in that cell.
I laid on my back looking up at the ceiling. My celly was on a roll telling me a bunch of stories from his past. He was a funny dude. for real. Like he wasn’t necessarily trying to be, he just had that natural effortless sense of humor. He had good vibes and a sense of ease about him. The only thing I didn’t like was that he passed gas a lot. There were no windows and the ventilation was horrible. I felt like we were hot boxing farts in that cell!
We spent the rest of the night laughing and getting to know each other. I remember listening to him talk and then there was silence and I heard him snoring. I couldn’t do anything but laugh, roll over and fade out. It was the first time I’ve slept through the night in 6 months.
My celly and I would ultimately spend about 2 weeks together before we were both transferred. He left a couple of days before I did. He was a good dude, and I was grateful that I had a celly who was so smooth. NRC was a horrible place. Having a good celly really made the experience easier for me.
The day I was transferred, the officer showed up to my cell at 11:30 p.m. or so. She told me that I was on transfer and that I’d be leaving at 5:00 a.m. I asked her where I would be going. She told me I was going to Menard Correctional Center. The place that I had repeatedly referred to as Gladiator School. Menard was notorious for its history of violence and oppression experienced by its prison population. I knew that I’d only had two options: Stateville’s maximum security prison, or Menard. Both are very similar. Stateville is in Joliet, Illinois and run by a majority of Black and Hispanic people if I had to guess. Menard is 7 hours away located in a small rural town and in 2012 there weren’t many Black people working there. I could count on one hand how many Black officers or civilian stuff I saw while I was there. There were no Hispanic employees that I could remember.
The news about my transfer to Menard didn’t bother me at all. Honestly, I was just happy to be leaving NRC. I laid there for the rest of the morning ready to leave, wondering what was waiting for me.