Letters from Camp Prison: A Son's Letters to His Mother

By Phyllis Gold

The author is the letter writer. He has been involved in addiction recovery for almost 3 decades. Throughout this time, his mother has been his support and has loved him unconditionally. She has compiled and edited these personal letters with both courage and love.

The letters in the book give the reader a true picture of incarceration in the U.S. of the late 1990s and early 2000s. Here is an inside look at the race relations, inmate jobs, the law officers and the family visits in a facility used to punish drug offenders at that time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: May 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504355308

Phyllis Gold

The author is the letter writer. He has been involved in addiction recovery for almost 3 decades. Throughout this time, his mother has been his support and has loved him unconditionally. She has compiled and edited these personal letters with both courage and love.

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© 2016 Phyllis Gold.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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ISBN: 978-1-5043-5529-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5531-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5530-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016906091

Balboa Press rev. date: 05/26/2016

This book is lovingly dedicated to all souls in recovery.

I am not this hair,

I am not this skin,

I am the soul that lives within.

--Rumi

O f course, prison isn’t camp. There are no rowboats to take out on the lake. You can’t get a second helping of dessert. No archery lessons, no Friday night pizza party.

If you are lucky, though, you’ll make a new buddy or two before you leave. You’ll come home with your manhood uncompromised. You’ll have grown and matured a little. And you’ll have written more cards and letters in that space of time than in, perhaps, the rest of your lifetime.

Is that camp, or is it prison? Here are the prison letters from one son to his mother.

August 20, 1999

Dear Mom,

I’m so sorry. I just got your letter today stating that Grammy had passed away. I love you so much Mom, please don’t be mad with me that I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I’m so sorry that I missed it. Mom, when I get out things are going to be different, I’m going to change things around so that you’ll be proud of me once again. Please don’t leave me, Mom & don’t forget about me out here.

August 25, 1999

On Sat. 21st they moved me because I have to wait for bed space to open up in another pod. 1A is like the intake pod. Well, the officers here are not as pleasant as those anywhere else.

Anyways, we’re locked down most of the time here also, with ½ hour dayroom in the AM and usually no dayroom in the PM.

February 28, 2000

Well, I’m finally at a yard! They classified me which qualified me for a minimum security facility. It’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be, but it’s definitely different. Since it’s a minimum yard, there’s no lockdown in cells. They start you out in the Tents And what they are, are a bunch of Army type tents that have 12 bunks in them, actually just 12 beds not bunk beds. And it’s literally a big khaki tent. It gets a little nippy at night, but the sun has been strong and I’m out in the yard all day long. They feed you 3 hot meals a day and it’s a good amount of food. For lunch and dinner they have a salad or pasta bar. So I’m definitely full after each meal and because of the amount of food, I’ve started to work out regularly.

Prison is political in that you generally have to stay with your kind. Since I’m not Mexican, but I’m not white, I generally have to stick with the Chicanos or Latinos. I know a couple of them from County Jail and I’ve simply explained to them that I’m Colombian by birth, but was raised in a white family so I don’t speak fluent Spanish. Basically, they’ve been cool, no initiation type stuff or anything like that, we all eat together at chow time and I just hang out with them during the day. You don’t have to avoid everyone else, but if there’s ever a time you need something (like this paper, envelopes, stamps) and you don’t have money, they help you out. Also, if anything takes place, that’s when the races stick together. I made it very clear when I got here that I was a Christian and a recovering addict. I was offered stoke stuff a couple of times, but I said no, explained why and they accepted that. So praise God, He gave me the strength to say no.

Since being moved from County Jail to prison they don’t let you take anything with you except all your legal work and addresses. They gave me a bar of soap (miniature), 2 oz. bottle of shampoo, and a 4oz. bottle of toothpaste. I really need to get some more hygiene supplies ‘cause I’m about to run out. We wear jeans and T-shirts and boots which is okay, it’s better than the flimsy stuff of jump suits from County. They issue you all of that, but we have to do our own laundry. They give you 2 little pouches of laundry soap to start, each pouch is good for one load, but after that you