I’ve been incarcerated over three decades now, and I can count the number of really close friends I’ve had on one hand. It’s not that I’m unapproachable or distant, not that I’m unlikable or unfriendly even, I just have a tendency to not let too many folks in the castle, so to speak. Three of … Continue reading My Three Daves→
There’s a song I remember from years ago – “Don’t Know What You’ve Got Till It’s Gone”. No truer words… Before I got sick, I lost two of my best friends. One, I’ll call him ‘The Mouseketeer’, to gall bladder disease and the other to my own selfish, egocentric stupidity. That one comes into view … Continue reading Finding Hope Again→
Why do birds fly? Why is there air? Why is the sky blue? Why is water wet? These are all important questions. It was 1993, and my son was five years old. I was thirty-two and fielding questions all inquisitive five-year-olds ask. When I was five I asked my dad why New Mexico was named … Continue reading Kindergarten Logic→
It’s been a crazy year, and with only 21 days left, I’m done chronicling it. I’m fortunate to see the end. I was thirty-two years old when I came to prison. I wasn’t a fighter, wasn’t ready for the predatory violence associated with being locked up. I had to learn how to unlearn all the … Continue reading Three Sides Of A Coin→
For over three years I’ve been writing for Walk In Those Shoes, a sounding board for prisoners whose voices would otherwise be muffled behind prison walls, as well as a call to action for readers. In a world of social statuses, cultural practices and racial characteristics that serve to divide us, we remain connected through … Continue reading A Writer’s Way→
I’m a student of prison philosophy. I’ve pretty well seen it all in the quarter century I’ve been incarcerated, and I’m no expert, but I think that qualifies me for something close to a PhD (post hole digger). This is about security, and don’t get me wrong. I understand the need for prison security – … Continue reading Farhenheit 451 Revisited?→
From 1983 to 1988, the year my dad passed away, I lived on a farm of sorts. My dad’s property – forty acres in the middle of East Texas. He called it The Pine Curtain. He raised pigs, goats, chickens, pheasant and quail. Geese and ducks lived on the pond. I accused him of having … Continue reading Homer And Gracie→
I knew Tommy for over 20 years. He was a friend – not as close as some, closer than others. He was usually upbeat, always working and often watching and betting on sports – mostly football. Like myself, he loved the Rockets, Texans and Astros. His only flaw, from my viewpoint, was that when they … Continue reading Tommy→
My dad often said, “You do not bite the hand that feeds you.” As a diabetic, I’ve tweaked that to read, “You do not bite the hand that heals you.” Anyone who lives in a correctional facility for long will likely cross paths with a nurse or three before going home. Knowing which hands not … Continue reading Nurses→
I’ve spent almost half my life here. During that time, I’ve done everything possible to return home – to leave this place and return to society. I’ve abandoned fear, anger, bad feelings, all in search of the way – my own walk. It’s not necessarily a religious or spiritual walk, although I believe in God … Continue reading Why I Write→