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TWO TALES BY RICHARD KORN

FORMERLY DIRECTOR OF TREATMENT
NEW JERSEY STATE PRISON

n Them Days . . . .

"In them days," Captain Malkin would say, "In them days . . ." The new psychologist listened and learned."In them days,"repeated the Captain, "it was permissible for prison staff to bring in their automobiles for convicts to learn on in the car-repair shop."

"Was the practice ever-abused?"

The Captain gestured for another two beers. "Abused?" He rolled the word around his tongue as if the sound were unfamiliar. "Abused?-Ah, you mean, did folks ever take advantage of it? Well, I shall have to let yourself be the judge of that.

"There were, of course, rumors and gossip-the usual small talk of small minds." The twinkle in the eye promised more than the mouth was ready to deliver.

The young psychologist waited.

"There was, of course. let's call him Captain M. A famous man. A legend in his own time. You might say he pushed the limits a little."


"How?"

"One day he came to the car repair shop and summoned the con-boss. "My man, I would appreciate it if you would restore this car."

"What car?" asked the con-boss, looking in all directions. (There was no car in sight.)

"This car," answered the Captain, removing a spark-plug from his pocket, and placing it in the other's hand.

There was a dialogue of eyes. Finally: "Oh, you mean this car," said the con-boss holding up the spark plug.

"Right-o," said the Captain, "that car. In about a week?"

Speechless with admiration, the con-boss could only nod his head.

In a week the Captain drove off in his augmented spark-plug, a hybrid of as many spare and stolen parts as could safely be scrounged from the working wrecks in the motor pool.

"Mind you," Captain Malkin continued, "I am not at liberty either to confirm or deny this story, nor can I offer you a clue as to the identity of the gentlemen involved. But I can tell you this: that Captain was the most admired man at the prison. The most depraved, the most wicked convict envied and emulated him."

"Why?" asked the appalled young psychologist.

"Because he was a force for good. Because he proved that a good name and a respectable position in society could be profitable, even more profitable than lawlessness."

Miracle in MaSSACHUSETTS

Walpole State Prison in Massachusetts had been buttoned down for over a year. The convicts had been locked up for so long and had become so crazy behind it that the custodians were afraid to let them out. There was a new Commissioner: the first Black Commissioner the state had ever had. He had gotten the job because of the way he had distinguished himself at the Washington D.C. Criminal Justice Workshop the year before. (He had been Chief Deputy at Lorton Penitentiary in D.C.) He was in a quandary. He wanted to open the prison. But the custodial officers, to a man, threatened to go out on strike. He called me in California. I came out with four ex-convicts from a therapeutic community in San Francisco.

We conferred with the Commissioner and went straight to the prisoners. We spent two or three days negotiating with the real heat in the joint. The terms were mutually agreeable to the cons and the Commissioner. But the guards said No. If we let the inmates out, they would walk out. I said to the commissioner, Fine, let them do it. I asked him to let me interview his large office component. I picked only women. I had only one criterion. Each one of them had to look like everybody's kid sister.

None of the women turned us down. We opened Walpole State Prison with four ex-cons and twenty women from the Commissioner's clerical staff. The cons took one look at the ladies and begged for a day's delay. Their only request was for about 1,000 bottles of men's cologne. Within 24 hours they had cleaned out a year's filth from the Blocks-and cleaned themselves up as well. The women were distributed throughout the prison, two to a cell block. They would be the new "guards."

Who would guard them? Two thousand sweetly smelling prisoners. We kept it going for a week. We opened the place to the press and the public. Legislators dropped in to chat. A whole week passed without the shadow of an incident, the inmates agreeing to lock themselves in at night so that the women could get some sleep. After a week the correctional officers asked to come back. I couldn't stop the Commissioner from giving in. He also appointed a new warden. Within a month the place went back to its old ugly ways. But we had been to the Mountain.

NCX Feb/Mar 1996
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