It's Been One Year

On Friday it will be one year since I made my last drive to Taft.  In many ways it seems like years ago and in other ways it seems like just yesterday.  I remember it so vividly.  Release was always first thing in the morning, between 8-8:30 and of course I wanted to be there on time, so I drove to Bakersfield the day before.  I spent the night before Ron's release with Linda and Rod, the wonderful friends I had met through Carol.  I spent many nights with them over the course of 19 months, and have wonderful memories of our time together, especially Christmas, 2010.  Anyway, we talked most of the evening, about the past, and the future.  I'm still in touch with them and follow their journey through her blog and our own communication.

I had a restless night's sleep in anticipation of our reunion.  I arrived at the camp about 7:40.  I was in a different area of the camp, one I had never been to before, and wanted to make sure I was there on time.  I announced myself, and they told me to have a seat and wait.  I was the only one there, and after about a half hour I was wondering what to do next.  I went to the desk again, told a very nice lady who I was waiting for, and within 5 minutes, Ron appeared.  I had clothes for him to change into, so he went to the bathroom and made a quick change into jeans and a tee shirt.  He threw his khakis and white tee shirt in the garbage, took his little box with letters, books and mementos, and we were out of there.

We hadn't driven more than 1/4 mile when Ron remembered that he had $11 in the pants pocket of his prison pants.  It was what was left of his commissary money.  I asked him if he wanted to go back and get it and he said, "Absolutely not.  Let's get out of here." 

I believe there's a bit of shock for the prisoner being released.  For months they have thought about this moment, then it's here, and they're out.  Ron was quiet on the drive home.  He let me listen to my radio station (very unusual) and was content to just be with me and putting distance between himself and Taft.  We arrived at Denny's in Valencia for breakfast around 9:30am.  Ron was still getting his land legs.  He was very tentative about everything.  It's hard to describe, but I felt like he thought someone might come at any moment and take his freedom away. He seemed concerned that any move he made might be wrong.  Luckily, this did not last long, and within a few weeks, things looked pretty good.

It takes a long time to fix the inside, however, maybe the rest of his life.  There's not a day that goes by that he doesn't think about where he's been.  He wonders when his P.O. is going to make another surprise visit to the house, and what she will have to say.  There are so many things that remind him of prison and the system that he can't really "forget" it.  So many movies and TV shows are constant reminders.  Men who say they put the experience of prison behind them and never look back are unusual.  19 months in prison is something that will affect you forever.  You become so close with the men in prison you can't possibly imagine forgetting anyone.  But wait!

Six months after being released Ron could not remember the last names of any of his cell mates.  Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.  Ron remembers everything about the experience, yet cannot recall names of people he spent all his time with.

In the last year much has changed.  Babies have been born, kids have fallen in love, friends have died, new friendships have been formed, and others have waned.  We're moving forward as best we can.  Restrictions on travel make it difficult for Ron to see our children and grandchildren.  So much for the prison system trying to keep families together.  I don't get it.  Ron works several jobs.  He loves to be busy.  Of course he'd like to be doing something in his field of expertise, but has not found anyone willing to give him a chance yet.  So much for second chances.  He loves his umpiring and accounting, and fills in the day with other less exciting jobs.  Emotionally he's feeling great, and with each day realizes that the prison experience is behind him.  His fear has lessened.  We drive to LA occasionally to see my mom, and except for the LA traffic that he hates, Ron feels fine.  It's a far cry from what used to be, a hole in the pit of his stomach, a fear of running into people from his past.  That's all gone.  So is my radio station.  He now gets in the car and turns on his radio station right away.  What a difference a year makes.