Lock Up Diaries: An Inside Look at Drug Wars in Prison: Drug War & Prison Stories BEFORE CHRIST book 1, #4

By Glenn Langohr

The author spent 10 years inside the most violent prisons in California on drug charges. Lock Up Diaries is a depiction of life inside prison and a look at the political landscape between races and gangs. The Mexican Mafia, drug cartels, Aryan Brotherhood, and the Black gangs all collide. The amazing details of prison life - code words that prisoners use, explanations of how they communicate from cell to cell - really make you feel you have entered a different world, or like you are watching a movie about prison life. The story shows how race riots that can kill prisoners can be started for very small and seemingly unimportant reasons, and how violence permeates every aspect of prison life. 

In Lock Up Diaries, a drug debt is on the verge of sparking a gang war. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Glenn Langohr
• Release date: May 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201049591

Glenn Langohr

Disciple of Jesus/Evangelist/Prophecy Watchman/Author of over 77 books~LOVE IS AN ACTION Ask Glenn a question facebook.com/glennlangohrcalifornia

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Copyright © 2011 Glenn Langohr

Lock Up Diaries Smashwords Edition

Published by Glenn Langohr @ lockdownpublishing.com

Edited by: Judicious Revisions LLC

Cover by: R.J. Parker

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

You can contact Glenn Langohr via email: [e-mail]

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This book is based on true events in the authors life. Some timelines, events, places and names have been changed for dramatic purposes.

~Table of Contents~

Cover Page

Copyright Page

Chapter 1: Free Ride to Hell

Chapter 2: The Drug War Inside

Chapter 3: No Warning Shots Fired!

Chapter 4: Running a Make

Chapter 5: Peace Maker

Chapter 6: Paid in Blood

Chapter 7: We Shoot People Like You

Chapter 8: Minority White Men

Chapter 9: A Brother in Christ

Chapter 10: United We Stand

Chapter 11: Stay Close to the Swords

Chapter 12: Movin' On Up

Chapter 13: Stirring the Pot

Chapter 14: Too Many Chiefs

Chapter 15: Study the Gangsters

Chapter 16: Squatter's Rights

Chapter17: Addiction and Affliction

Chapter 18: Hold the Fort!

Chapter 19: Put Up or Shut Up

Chapter 20: Where Did the Policy Go?

Chapter 21: Don't Bend

Chapter 22: Think Long, Think Wrong

Chapter 23: These are the Prison Days of Our Lives

About the Author

Excerpt from Gladiator

~*~Lock Up Diaries~*~

Chapter 1: Free Ride to Hell

The state bus, carrying forty-two prisoners from California in it, was bouncing with every bump on it’s dilapidated shocks. I, who answered to BJ, was like the rest of the prisoners fighting for a more comfortable way to sit handcuffed at the wrist to waist chains with feet locked at the ankles in more chains. The constant grinding noise from the moving chains combined with the sound of the squeaking shocks, this was our symphony of destruction.

I was stationed in the last row, scrunched in next to a black man. Behind me in a steel cage were two transport prison guards. I didn’t have to look again to know they were sitting in an almost standing position, one with a block gun and the other with a rifle.

The rows of inmates in front of me sat two per seat, some leaning forward resting their heads on the seat in front of them. At the front of the bus, before the driver and his copilot, another prison transport guard, also in a steel cage, was standing facing us with a block gun hanging from a shoulder strap. He was constantly barking orders; No talking....Keep the noise down.... Then, We are fifteen minutes from your next PO Box.

I knew our new PO Box was the mailing address to a somewhat less tense Level 3 and 4 California Prison than we had just come from. This one was on the other end of California, on the border of Mexico. I heard this prison had temperatures that reached 120 degrees, with the asphalt concrete track on the yard sealing in that heat and amplifying it to 140 degrees. The prison’s nickname, Sent-to-Hella.

The prison we left ten hours ago was a volatile environ full of Pelican Bay Security Housing Unit kick-outs. Inmates that had finished their isolated SHU terms, some for five years or more. These men were processed into the highest security Level 4 as a de-escalation phase. I was in that prison on the specific yard the SHU released prisoners landed.

Seeing muscular Whites, Hispanics, Blacks and Asians walking slower, with looks on their faces like they had just come from a meditative place, you could see they were trying to make sense of things and adapt. It looked like they were almost where they needed to be, but not quite. It was like the released SHU inmates had been to the end of the tunnel and instead of finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow they had found the truth; it only held a dark bottomless pit of lonely frustration and emptiness.

The California Prison Union and other criminal justice and political voices termed the Pelican Bay SHU, the worst of the worst. It was more like the strongest of the strong willed. Maybe the most misguided, or the most lost, definitely the voiceless.

It is always the wrong thing to try and take the soul away from a human being. I often wondered if someone besides me would figure that out, if we would take that strong will and direct it in more positive direction, rehabilitation would be possible.

Processing out of the SHU into a prison yard where other prisoners hadn’t seen the end of the tunnel, and still thought there was gold there, made the prison population’s political landscape a struggle for influence. Where pride becomes the issue in a fight for power to control. I thought about how that comingling of power seekers caused the worst riot in Pelican Bay’s history. Seeing it firsthand a few months ago left visuals my mind wouldn’t stop analyzing...

It was an ugly day out for afternoon yard. The sky was filled with black clouds that looked on the verge of bursting into a deluge of rain. I knew the Mexicans were about to explode on the Blacks any second. I sat with the rest of