My First

1985...

I was sitting in my '75 Chevy pickup truck looking at the dashboard. I was trying to remember if it was possible that I have ever witnessed anything as disturbing as I did just hours ago.

The top of the dash looked older than it was. The dried vinyl fake leather had stains and cracks in it. I looked at it like I noticed it for the first time and began picking at it subconsciously. It was just past midnight and I was off shift. I had changed out of my uniform and was in the fresh spring night. I was trying to breathe in as much fresh air as I could and get that smell out of my head. I couldn't. I turned to a friend sitting next to me and asked him "where is God" in that place?

Being on the job now for just under a year; short of a riot; I believed I saw every evil a person could commit to another. I was wrong, I missed it by miles. My friend replied "there are just some bad people in this world". I know that. I knew it before this night. The visual replay looped through my head like a never ending bad film. One horrific scene that would make the movie a block buster. But this was real, the noise, the look on the guys' face seconds before he realized what was happening to him, the smell, everything...everything. It became what I used to gauge how bad my world was in years to come. I'd tell myself "Yeah, this sucks, but it wasn't like that guy, that night". Really, where was God?

God is everywhere I'm told. It was a great answer for children, but adults need more than that. That night my attitude (I learned later) was like Elihu, from the Bible -

10 But no one says, 'Where is God my Maker,
Who gives songs in the night,
11 Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth,
And makes us wiser than the birds of heaven?'
12 There they cry out, but He does not answer,
Because of the pride of evil men.
13 Surely God will not listen to empty talk,
Nor will the Almighty regard it.

Job 35:10-13

Honestly, what was the purpose?

I drove my friend home to his apartment. He went into his bedroom while I hit the small white box in the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers. As I inventoried the refrigerator I had to comment on two of the few items I saw in there. Next to the rather large bottles of Colt 45, was a bottle of Hennessy. "Nothing like keeping the stereo type alive" I yelled out to him. He came into the kitchen saying "fuck you, and the chicken is off limits too". We sat down and opened the beers. As Rodney bent over the table, he said "So what did you see? You got there first, right?" Right...

I was coming back from break. I was looking for the Officer that had my keys to "C" wing. For lunch and our two fifteen minute breaks we had to give our keys to our "Wing Partner". This was the Officer assigned to the housing unit next to you.

Each Housing unit held 48 inmates in two open dormitory style areas with no more than 24 inmates to each dorm. That was if we weren't over crowded.

I found the Officer in the Sergeant's Office making coffee. He gave me back my keys and said that I had one new (Inmate) placed in the front. He also told me that he had expensive street bo-bo's (sneakers) on and that he didn't want to leave them in the Booking's property room. That is where we store the street clothing Inmates come in with. We issue them County uniforms. The Inmate was afraid that one of the inmate workers would steal them. Obviously he has been here before I suggested. My Relief said "yeah, you'll know him when you see him, he's a big guy, pain the ass." I took his keys to "D" wing and placed them next to the "C" wings keys he had already given to me. My partner started his break.

I first toured my Unit, "C" wing. I moved from front to back and counted the inmates while they rested on their bunks, sleeping or watching T.V. or maybe playing cards in the small cramped Day Space. I noticed the new guy lying down on his top bunk. He was a big guy, and yeah, I remembered him. He thought he was a tough guy. But he wasn't stupid. I noticed his sneakers under the end of his mattress, propping his head up like a pillow. If anyone would try and take the sneakers, he would wake up.

I then left to do a tour in "D" wing. When I got there it was the same routine. Front to back, counting the Inmates. They were all there. I stopped long enough to talk to a few, and then went back to my housing unit.

I walked in and I heard a quick scuffle towards my left. I turned my head, looking through the bars and saw a strip of what I thought was bed sheets on fire and moving up a bunk. I started to yell for the inmates to put it out, when I noticed the new Inmate. He was still sleeping, but was covered in toilet paper. It was layered over him like a half mummy up to his neck. The smell hit me. The air was filled with it as I walked into the wing, but it didn't register until now. Baby Oil. The other inmates were setting this guy on fire. The paper mixed with oil makes "napalm" like accelerant. The paper burns and heats the oil. This allows the oil to spread and stick to the skin causing server burns. It is like getting painted with hot oil. I hit the emergency button on the wall and waited for the "All Call". I heard the Main Control Officer's Voice on the P.A., "Blue Light in Charley Wing, Blue Light Charley Wing!" I went to open the gate with my keys as I heard the thunder of feet running towards me. A "Blue Light" means Officer needs assistance. It could be anything from Inmates fighting to an Officer down.

I saw the covered Inmate starting to get up. The fire was at his feet and legs, starting to burn him. As he sat up, the paper from the top of his chest fell to his waist, into the fire. It was probably the worst thing he could have done. The flame shot up from his waist and burned his face, shrinking and sizzling the hair of his beard and mustache. The fire engulfed his entire upper body burning off hair anywhere the flames found it. He rolled off the top of the bunk, screaming and fell to the floor. Other Inmates were also yelling, the noise bouncing off the steel and concrete walls was more than deafening. The whole thing was surreal to me.

The gate was open, and responding Officers were pouring in grabbing blankets from the other bunks and trying to put the fire out. Some Inmates were getting off of their bunks, getting in the way of the Officers in an attempt to slow us down. This guy was not liked. There was a history with him and others. This was some type of payback.

He was half carried and half dragged out of the unit. His cries of pain came in whimpers and then guttural screams. We laid him down in the hallway outside of the wing. Our medical department had closed a few hours ago and the staff had gone home. One of the Officers was smart enough to get wet blankets and put them over him while we waited for the First Aid Squad coming from town. It was going to be awhile. He was red and black, with blisters already starting to form all over him. There was nothing for us to do but wait. The smell of the burnt flesh, hair, paper and baby oil filled my nose. His moaning and crying were cutting into me. The inmates were still screaming and laughing inside the housing unit.

After the First Aid squad left with the inmate, I went back into the housing unit. We had to clean up the mess left by the inmates and fire. The first thing I noticed was his sneakers were missing. I looked for them, but they were gone.

Rodney was there once the alarm was sounded. He saw the fire too. We just sat across from each other drinking from our own 40 ounce bottle of beer. It tasted bad, but it was better than nothing, washing the taste of the night from my mouth. He lit a cigarette he just rolled while I was telling my story. The smell of the filler was starting to overcome the foul scent from my nose, replacing it with another burning smell. This one was more pleasant. He past it to me, and I believe, to the best of my memory, this was my first "self medication". The rest of the night was a wonderful haze.