Conversations With Birds

When I first met – let’s just call him Cheese – it was the year 2000, and he’d already been in solitary for twenty-something years.  He looked to be in his early fifties then, and I marveled at his resilience.  Every Monday through Friday he’d go outside to run and do calisthenics to stay in shape. No matter rain, sleet, snow, ninety degrees or ten, Cheese was getting his yard time. He was an inspiration to those of us beginning our time.

I never talked to Cheese, so I never knew why he was in solitary so long, but rumor had it he was involved in an attack on a guard in the 70’s or 80’s.  I myself had been involved in a staff related incident so I was curious, hoping I wouldn’t be in solitary that long. 

I eventually left that prison and never kept up with how Cheese was doing, but in 2017 I again found myself in a prison with him.  The man I saw was a shell of the person I’d met seventeen years earlier.  He was now nearly seventy years old and a completely different person, both physically and mentally.  I’d heard of and experienced the affects of solitary confinement, but what I saw left no doubt what it can do to a man. Cheese was old and broken down.  He was using a walking aid because his hip needed to be replaced, and as bad as his physical problems were, his mental deterioration shocked me even more. Once proud and defiant, Cheese was now delusional and had difficulty holding a conversation.  When you did hear him talking, his conversations were with the birds who’d made a home inside the tarp atop the exercise cages.

At this point, Cheese isn’t a threat to anybody. There’s not one legitimate penal justification for keeping him in solitary, but sadly it appears that the Department of Corrections is just waiting for him to die.  I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be him in another twenty years. Right now my feeling is that I’d rather be dead than experience myself slowly wilt away. From where I stand, suicide seems the better option.

I recognize getting out of solitary and into general population isn’t the same as going home, but Cheese should be released from solitary. Let the man at least attempt to recover from the damage of long-term solitary confinement and live out his remaining years not having to be strip searched and hand-cuffed every time he leaves his cell; not having to always eat alone; not having a light on for twenty-four hours a day, making it difficult to sleep; not being forced to change cells every ninety days, making it impossible to get comfortable; not being denied access to religious, vocational, and educational services – and not having anyone but the birds to talk to. Let Cheese live out the rest of his life with some semblance of dignity. Show him some compassion and stop punishing him for a mistake he made more than forty years ago. 

ABOUT THE WRITER: Sterlin Reaves is the third place winner of our writing contest. The point of the contest was for the writer to use their words to make people care about someone else – to help us walk in their shoes. He did just that. Mr. Reaves can be contacted at:

SC – Sterlin Reaves DX-5999
P.O. Box 33028
St. Petersburg, FL 33733

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