Well here I was at the minimum security yard. I was back in dorm living. I was glad to get out of the mess at the level-three yard.
If you remember, I was being told to take someone’s life. I was spared that and I was grateful. ‘Course, the other place did have its advantages. Cell living was much better than dorm. You have your own place.
On the other hand, once in the cell you couldn’t roam around. In this dorm I could talk to others instead of just my cellie. We could play basketball, handball — why, we even had pool tables to whittle our time away.
Of course everyone was assigned a job. Mine was working with Sgt. Garcia — a real thin, tall, blonde girl who was in charge of landscaping. It was an easy job and we got to be outside the prison walls at different times. I only had about a year left and so I just tried to keep busy and out of trouble. It got really boring at times. Of course, we did have softball and basketball teams, and that helped.
There was a guy we called “Phillie” who had pitched in the world series and was now doing a couple of years for cocaine abuse. I don’t think anyone abuses the drug, I believe it’s visa-versa. That’s just my opinion.
Well, all was going along pretty smooth and then the “big boys” in the other yard started a war between the North and South. That being the two Mexican-American rival gangs. Well, of course we had to follow suit so there was a big brawl in the dining hall during breakfast the following morning. I didn’t have to do anything because I was disabled and considered an O.G. (“old gangster”). I had put my time in.
Let me back up and tell you that the first morning there, everyone in the North gang — the one I was a part of — was to get up and do an hour workout. You know, run, exercise, etc. Except I had already been excluded in the main yard by the big boys because of my “O.G.” status. However, two knucklehead youngsters made me get up and said I was in trouble. They said I had to do 100 pushups for not getting up. I tried to tell them I was excluded, but you know some youngsters, they just won’t listen to anyone.
Oh I did the push-ups and was about set to get my orders from Baby-Face Knucklehead and Al Stupidone , when along came these two giant Mexicans, well over six feet tall and muscles from head to feet. They also were in that elite group which have no neck.
I found out that they ran the minimum yard for the Northern Hommies. The two youngsters found out again also. I actually felt a little sorry for them. They had to do 500 push-ups for disrespecting an O.G. (yours truly). Meanwhile, back in the dining hall, the big brawl that I mentioned had started when one of my hommie’s from a couple tables away walked over to a Southern gang member and hit him square in the face with a breakfast tray. Now they are only hard plastic, but when someone hits you in the mug, well damn, it must have hurt. I mean, it probably looked worse than it actually was. There was blood covering his face, that from a broken nose where the tray landed. After that initial swing, well, it was on. I backed up against the wall where I wouldn’t get hit from behind. There were bodies flying over tables, either from jumping or getting hurled. I saw a plastic fork being thrust into someone’s eye. The man started screaming and it sent a chill up my spine.
It was one big free for all that actually only lasted about a minute or so, because the Goon Squad, as they are so colorfully named, was there that quick to break up the fiasco. Well, for whatever reason the fight started, it ended by having both sides, North and South, put back on dorm lockdown for 10 days. During lockdown nobody was allowed to work unless you had a critical job or your boss requested your help. While we were laying on our bunks — because we were not allowed to leave our bunk area during the lockdown — we had sack lunches. Anyway, during this lockdown we got news from the main yard that this prisoner was being released to go home. And then something happened.
Now get this: This clown had packets of cocaine and heroin taped to his thighs in an attempt to smuggle them out. Now, this just isn’t done in prison. Whatever you didn’t sell or have left for any reason you just leave them for your friends whom you are leaving behind. But oh no, this guy was just too damn greedy and now he picked up a new charge. This charge would get him at least another five years. You reap what you sow, ol’ friend.
After getting off lockdown, everything went back to the old routine. Time went considerably faster here than in the main yard because there was much more freedom.
Do you remember the heavyweight boxer Jerry Quarry? Well, his brother was doing a couple years here at Folsom Minimum. I spoke to him quite often. He grew up just a few miles south of where I had. He also told me his brother Jerry had died and was helpless in has last months. Had to be carried everywhere. That was sad.
Well I am wrapping this up ol’ friend. I hope you have enjoyed these articles. I will continue with another part of my life. Stay tuned
Semper-Fi.