So, Wednesday dawns and I am awake early, in the dark, wondering how I will spend all my time today and how I will rewrite the Thanksgiving plans. Breakfast is as dinner was, file down, no talking, eat fast then pick it up and file back to the dorm. I feel kind of numb, so out of control which seems to be the new normal I am experiencing inside corrections. Hurry up and wait type thing with no input to the outcome, save how I think and act. I laugh to myself that I need to put on a happy face, that God is still with me whether I make to Mid-State or not, or even if I make it home when I think I should.
I re-read a passage that has stuck in my mind, Jeremiah 29:16: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,” says the Lord, “thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Well, that’s what I surely need right about now, a hope. Under the present circumstances it doesn’t feel that close.
I guess I am so engrossed in that thought that I drift off to sleep. I dream I am with my two kids, getting a Christmas tree, a ritual we performed since they were born. In fact, one year when my daughter was a little over a year old and asleep in her car seat, I went a short distance away with my four year old son to cut down the tree. Well, in this version of the dream, all was going well till some guy was calling my name, for what reason I do not know. Finally, I awoke and an inmate was calling my last name over and over. I then realized there really was someone calling my name here in my cube. I was to report to the dorm CO immediately as he had been calling my name repeatedly and I wasn’t answering, a big no-no in here.
Thinking I would be in some kind of trouble for not responding, I hustled to his desk, half awake and clinging to the memory of my kids being with me. He told me to wake up, pack up and accompanying officer so and so right away. Returning to my cube I wondered where I was going now? Did they move transports to a special place where they would be whisked away early? But tomorrow was Thanksgiving, so how could that be?
Complying with his directions, I returned to his desk where officer so and so said to go with him. He cautioned me not to walk with him or behind him, but always ahead of him, something I heard many times before. The reason being they could then keep an eye on us when we were in front. We were not to be trusted behind them, and not equal to walk with them. Hey, we were inmates and they were guards.
We were joined by two other guys who were in another part of the dorm. I wondered again what I had done, what they had done and where we were all going. Being naive and curious, I inquired as to our destination. “No talking” was what the CO barked back. “You are getting your Thanksgiving early” was all he added.
Not really sure what that meant, I noticed we neared the building I was in for several hours the previous day when I arrived. Were there beds there I hadn’t noticed? Were we in some kind of trouble? I did notice a couple Greyhound type buses parked there as well. But they do not transport on Wednesday I had been told over and over.
Well, long story short, this was an exception. Since there would be no transports tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day, I was informed movement had to take place today. The bullpen was already full of singles as well as guys chained together. After the obligatory strip search I was joined to another guy presumably heading to Mid-State. We then did what you do so often inside corrections, wait.
Another bus arrived during this time, unloaded some inmates and I was unsure where everyone would fit. Then pairs were called out to go to another room – sort of a staging room for boarding. Finally I and my chain mate were called, so we walked stiff legged the best we could to make it out. We were not in the second room very long before they boarded us.
I confess I was excited. I so wanted to get there, get into the program, complete it and get home, so this was the first step in that process. I laughed to myself ever doubting God and his provision for me. Why was I so blind in seeing it? Was I doomed because of my past mistakes and actions to doubt and question Him when all along it was me that was changing and following the wrong road? “I will never leave you or forsake you” it is written in the Bible. I guess I was the one leaving and forsaking people, not Him. I thought again how I was told that precious book was a guide to living – Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth – so why was it so difficult to follow the wisdom within?
Before too long and only after some guys needed to use the bathroom in the building they had just left did we depart. Again, it was difficult to see where we were going, so I tried to relax and enjoy the ride. However, because there were a couple of loud guys on this bus – and we were not supposed to talk – I stayed a little nervous. The guard who climbed in the back of the bus with a shot gun kept yelling “no talking” and “no turning around, look ahead.” Got my attention.
After awhile I could make out we were on a divided highway and going through the toll booths to cross the Hudson River. That was sure a long way from Mid-State. But we meandered here and there, stopping again at a couple of facilities to load and unload certain pairs. At one stop we were unloaded and led to a small room – all of us – where we waited on benches but at least were able to use the bathroom. Now peeing with someone chained to you is a real art or treat, I am not sure which, but I managed. Later we were fed the infamous bag lunch where I again was able to trade baloney for cheese. Then some of us lucky guys were transferred to a smaller bus and fortunately not chained to anyone. We headed back out the highway as it was getting later in the afternoon. By now we were in my sales territory of old and it was good to see familiar landmarks and areas again. It felt like I was safe because I knew the lay of the land, when in reality I was so out of my element inside corrections and not safe. We continued our way finally on the Thruway and headed further west, finally getting off in Utica.
After leaving some people at the Marcy facility we literally headed across the street to Mid-State. Finally at my destination. It was dark and only a little after 4 o’clock, but then is was November. We disembarked and headed inside where we were strip searched and a CO was to go through our bags. Fortunately with all the buses, my layover and the various stops my bags made their way with me, both of them. I really didn’t have that much stuff compared to some though others had only one.
The CO in charge was not in a good mood, though I doubted he ever was. Going through my bags he took several items and said they were not allowed in the facility. When I protested the previous one had allowed them he said take it up with grievance. From my previous experience I knew what good that would do. None. Gone were my headphones because they had volume controls; gone was my new hoodie that I recently received because there was a faint Champion logo visible on the front of it; a pair of gym shorts for the same reason; ditto some socks; and some food items he never said why. Now it is difficult enough getting clothing in because it all has to be new and the right color. No red, yellow, grey or black because they were gang colors. Also no blue because that was reserved for CO’s. And now I find no logos or writing on the clothes for this place.
But I was here where the SO program was available and I could make my way toward the end of this unforgettable train ride. All of us newbies were escorted to the reception dorm where I fortunately had the bottom bunk rather than the top. I immediately stood in line to call my wife and give her the good news – I had landed and was ready to make final preparations for my trip towards home.

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