Monday, March 3, 2014

My Personal Journal

It's that time of the month again, the first of the month, when I try to update you on my thoughts and feelings and memories about our journey since the government first entered our lives in a big way, about 12 years ago. This is a great month, with the celebration of our 44th anniversary on March 8, and the realization that on that same day, Ron has exactly 7 more months of supervised release. Yippee.

Our friend Richard had to drive to Bakersfield last week for a training seminar. He asked me how long the drive was, as after 80 trips to Taft, I knew exactly how long it took, which route to take, and what time to go. His questions also brought back a lot of memories of my drives there. I told him you had to be careful of ice on the road in winter, as the temperature in the grapevine can get down to freezing. There are even times when you need chains to get over the hill, but with the drought we've had this year, that is not the case. I remembered the Truck and Travel Stop at the bottom of the grapevine that I stopped at almost every week. There was a gas station, a Subway, another fast food restaurant that I can't remember, and a big store. I would stop for coffee and a snack sometimes, before driving the last 20 minutes to see Ron. The best thing I can say about Bakersfield is that Linda and Rod used to live there (they moved back to Washington after their son Corey was released) and that I got to visit them and overnight at their house several times while Ron was at Taft.

All this talk of Bakersfield and Taft brought up a lot of memories for Ron, too. He said he really hadn't thought much about the camp much in a very long time, but he did the night we talked to Richard. He remembered that personal hygiene was of utmost importance to the inmates at Taft, and they had their own way of making sure everyone was clean. Here's what they did. Washing one's hands after using the toilet was mandatory (prisoners set of rules)and here's what happened to those that didn't wash their hands. First, they were talked to. Next, someone poured a bucket or cup of water over them at mail call. This was done to embarrass them. Finally, if they still didn't wash their hands, they found a cup of urine poured on their bed. I guess after that they would get the message.

There was a local dog named Sprocket, a Jack Russell, that came into the prison often, and Ron just loved him. He would find Sprocket curled up on his bed sleeping, and it was a little reminder of home. Most of the inmates thought it was terrible that he allowed a dirty dog to lie on his bed. So many of the men there were clean freaks, but I think that was just because with so many men in close proximity they were worried about disease. I doubt if they were all so clean when they left Taft.

It's funny how one conversation can trigger so many memories. For myself, the conversation with Richard reminded me of the drive, the stops I made, the cold, the hot, the fruit pickers I saw along the way, the beautiful trees loaded with blossoms in March, and the long days. For Ron, the same conversation brought back memories of the camp he was in for 19 months, and some of the crazy rules. Seven months left to go.

1 comment:

  1. I did a post about Sprocket on my blog back on Wed June 1, 2011 ...Corey had told us some funny stories about the incorrigible little terrier. You might check it out, I think you'll get a kick out of one of those stories. I had seen Sprocket on several occasions when visiting at the Camp, running around the property, as well as sometimes inside the admin bldg so had asked Corey about him. He was considered the camp mascot, and though his real 'home' was at a nearby farm he spent most his time at the camp, probably because of all the loving attention he got there :) .

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