Hard Times: Part Six
My return to Charlotte C.I. was like walking into a warm summer's day after being out in a deep freeze. I really, really hated the last year of my job. I had made a huge mistake leaving Charlotte in the first place, and paid quite a penance in the process. I do admit, though, that I learned a great deal about the real world by actually working in it. In prison, you are isolated from all things external, and your progress as a person suffers as a result. The move to the female prison at Broward had also shown me how fortunate I was to be back among men; supervising women is a tough job, in some ways even tougher than street probation work. All in all, I had acquired a skill set that would benefit me as a Senior Classification Officer.
My return was met by my former comrades with a great deal of celebration and joy. This was my second family, and I had missed them dearly. My supervisor (the former mental health unit officer from previous posts) put me straight to work as both the Close Management officer and his personal "do boy". Close Management is the highest level of confinement outside of death row. You arrive in that status by doing bad things while incarcerated; murder, rape, escape, assaults, and general mayhem are common reasons. At that time, there were multiple prisons in the state with Close Management units; probably between 15-25 units in all. Our unit housed 168 close management inmates in one of three levels. Which level you were assigned to at any given moment, and how long you remained on those levels, depended on a wide variety of factors. Suffice it to say that Close Management I was basically lock-down in nature while Close Management III was a transition status back to general population.
The "do boy" aspect of my job could be described like this; I did whatever my boss told me to do. I basically acted in his name, and handled tasks he either didn't have time for, or that he didn't want to do. I am making it like he took advantage of me, but not really; we worked as a team. He was great with people; me, not so much. However, I was great with organization and computers, and between the two of us we made a very effective "super officer". Working as a team, we did run a very smooth classification department, and for about one year everything was great; until....
Greg Osterback is one inmate that I will name by name. His is a name that will live in infamy with the Florida DOC, and not because he killed the governor or blew up the capitol. He is the worst kind of inmate; a writ-writer. "Writ-writer" is slang for an inmate that files excessive and frivolous grievances and lawsuits. No one likes them, not even most inmates. They make life unnecessarily stressful on staff who, in turn, take it out that frustration on inmates. To put it in real world terms imagine you received a call from one of those annoying telephone solicitors, and could never hang up; that, in short, describes a writ-writer to a T.
Osterback filed a lawsuit against the Department for violation of his civil rights; not all that uncommon in prison, but this particular lawsuit was very unique. He claimed that Close Management was torture because the inmates were basically locked away from the outside world. A Close Management dorm had no windows; well, they did have windows, but they were covered by big pieces of steel that only allowed the barest amount of light inside the cell. Some inmates remained on Close Management for many, many years (I had one inmate who had been on the highest level of Close Management for more than 15 years). Osterback asserted that by cutting off the outside world the Department was committing cruel and unusual punishment through sensory deprivation. The court ruled in Osterback's favor, and Close Management would never be the same.
Over the course of the next year the Department consolidated all of the individual Close Management units into three prisons: Florida State Prison, Santa Rosa C.I., and Charlotte C.I.. These three prisons were no longer going to house many general population inmates; instead, they would be considered "Supermax" prisons. In short, "Supermax" prisons are primarily lock-down facilities. Movement is highly controlled, and the prison grounds are divided by numerous fences and checkpoints. Supermax is a prison within a prison.
During our conversion to a Close Management facility Charlotte had to undergo major changes to each of the general population dorms. In prisons, you don't hire out a contractor to do the work; inmates are used instead. You would be surprised how many inmates have specialized skills such as welding, plumbing, carpentry, etc. Each major prison in the state pretty much functions as a small city, and is expected to be self-sufficient. The Department put Charlotte under a timetable crunch due to the need to comply with the court's Osterback decision, and, in turn, this crunch put extreme pressure on the Warden and Assistant Warden of Operations to get it done. This whole situation reminds me of the scene in Star Wars: Return of the Jedi when Darth Vader is sent to the second Death Star to encourage the commander to finish work on schedule...or else.
I didn't realize just how much pressure the higher authorities were under until one fateful day. I was sitting in on a Disciplinary Report court hearing for another officer. I was on the team with a Lieutenant I knew and respected, and when an inmate was brought before us for an assault against staff I didn't even think twice that we would do anything other than throw the book at him, and send him to Close Management. When the Lieutenant told me that he needed this inmate to help work on the Close Management conversion, and we needed to give him probation I was in shock. Against my better judgement I agreed.
The next Thursday morning began like any other for me. I drove to work half asleep, and pulled into the prison's entrance road. What I saw was very different than anything I had seen before. Sheriff cars were everywhere. TV News vans and camera crews roamed the parking lot. Correctional officers were outside with shotguns and assault rifles. There was obviously something very wrong. I got out of my car, and started walking up the long sidewalk that led to the main facility, and I saw my Supervisor standing there waiting for me.
I said, "What's going on?"
"An Officer was murdered last night."
I regret that the first thing that passed through mind was "I hope one of mine didn't do it", but that's what happened. CYA is a very hard habit to break.
"Who was it?", I asked.
"A female Officer, Darla Lathrem."
My Supervisor then told me what he knew at that time. Five inmates were working in A-Dorm during the night. Three of these inmates overpowered the one officer assigned to supervise them, and had killed her. They then tried to escape over the fences. The inmates were caught immediately as the first of them came down over the outer fence. My supervisor had to attend a meeting, and told me to head to my office and await instructions.
I proceeded into the facility, which was obviously on total lock-down, and headed for my office. A pall of sorrow hung over the whole department. Many of the staff were in tears, and everyone was dumbfounded on how such a thing could possibly happen. Many wondered why the officer who had caught the inmates attempting to escape had not simply blown them away. No one would have asked any questions, and they deserved it. Sorrow quickly turned to anger, and finally a simmering, silent rage. It was at this time I discovered that the apparent ringleader of the murder/escape attempt was the very same inmate the Lieutenant and I had given probation for the assault on staff. My God, what had I done?
Then, I received a call from my supervisor who had just came out of a meeting with the senior staff and the Secretary of the Department. Our Warden was put on leave, and his Assistant, a good old boy from North Florida, would now be in charge. He told me to immediately write up a Close Management referral on all three inmates, and fast track the mental health and medical evaluations which were required. I got no argument from either department, and everyone was willing to do what was necessary. Then, the three inmates were transferred from Charlotte to Florida State Prison for their own safety. All three were put on Maximum Management, which is the highest level of confinement in the State (even higher than Death Row).
As the day went on the details of what happened started to emerge. The work crew consisted of five inmates and one officer. The ring leader took a sledge hammer to the officer, and destroyed her to an almost unrecognizable state. Then, the three shoved her bloodied corpse into a mop closet. The other two inmates were not part of the plot, and were assaulted, too; one of them died as a result of the attack. The three conspirators took the officer's keys, and exited the rear of the dorm. They used a ladder to scale the inner fence, but only one of them, the ringleader, made it over the second fence. By this time, the fence patrol officer had been alerted to a disturbance on the fence, and secured the three inmates without a struggle.
The drive home for me was quite surreal. I had never experienced violence firsthand like that before, and a wave of emotion hit me. I did something I never did, and headed to a local restaurant/bar, and had more than one vodka martinis. On the television, the local news reported on the grisly murders at Charlotte C.I.. Some of the customers sitting with me began laughing about it saying things like, "Why do they allow women in there in the first place?", and other stupid, drunken remarks. I calmly finished my drink, stood up, and said that I worked there, and had been there that day. That part of the bar table that heard me shut up in a hurry. I left the bar before I did something I would regret.
That night was horrible. I had some more to drink, and I remember crying a great deal. I couldn't forgive myself for making such a stupid decision to let this murderer out of a confinement that would have prevented him from committing such a terrible deed. Blood was on my hands. I could care less whether or lived or died, let alone if I lost my job. I had committed a terrible sin, and deserved the worse. This opinion of myself stayed with me for a long time.
Obviously, in hindsight, I know that I didn't commit a murder; the inmate did. I didn't make a plan to escape with two others; he did. And I certainly didn't make the decision to have a lone female officer supervise five hardcore convicts (most of which were serving life sentences) by herself at night when those inmates would have access to lethal weapons. Yes, I made a mistake by not speaking up to that Lieutenant, but I was not a murderer, and I didn't kill anyone. That guilt belonged elsewhere. Still, it is a blot on my soul that never really leaves; I should have been stronger.
In the end, the Warden was "retired", and a whole bunch of changes occurred in Security; most notably, the arrival of many North Florida officers who would show us South Florida fools how to properly run a prison. Many recriminations were handed down from on high, and scapegoats were put out to pasture. A huge memorial service was held for Officer Lathrem, and a memorial was established for her at the prison so we would never forget; not that any of us who had been there would.
And so began the final stage of prison career; the Senior Officer in charge of Close Management at a Supermax facility. It would be a fitting ending, and a chance for redemption. I hoped and prayed I was up to the challenge.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Post Eleven
Hard Times: Part Five
Aileen Wuornos was a rare commodity; a female serial killer who was caught alive. Wuornos was a prostitute who had murdered seven of her clients. She was convicted of six of those crimes, and was sentenced to death. Florida has two death rows; one for men and one for women. The male death row is located at Union Correctional Institution located in Raiford, Florida (the actual death chamber is at Florida State Prison in Starke which is right next to Union C.I.). The female death row is housed at Broward Correctional Institution in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. At the time I was there I believe there were a total of three female inmates on death row.
Wuornos was one of the first inmates I met at Broward. Death Row is located pretty close to the entrance which surprised me. I had been in confinement units before, and they were always creepy, but going on a death row for the first time is an experience which you really can't prepare yourself. I have no grand tale to tell here: I was escorted by the female Senior Classification Officer assigned to death row along with the female Sergeant assigned to the unit. We walked up to Wuornos cell, and I looked at her. She was a big, rugged woman dressed in death row orange. I remember locking eyes with her for a brief moment, and she said, "Who's this?"
" He's a new Classification Officer.", the senior officer said.
"Not mine, I hope"
"No, he's going to be working in Reception/Orientation"
"Good".
I should have responded with something, or a question, but quite frankly I just went blank. I had been intimidated before, but never like this. I violated the first rule; never show fear. I don't know how to describe it, but there was an evil aura that surrounded this person. I had no desire to be around her any longer than I had to. I wanted to get out of death row as fast as possible. After we walked down the long hallway, we walked back past Wuornos' cell.
She said, "Why are you here?"
We walked past her without stopping, and I just looked at her. I guess you could say I chickened out, but at the time I just wanted to leave. Banter with Florida's only female serial killer would have been quite fascinating in hindsight, but it's an idea that sounds better in theory than reality. I would never get another chance; for the rest of my time at Broward she was in and out of county jail at court, and access to death row was strictly monitored. Even a Classification Officer just can't walk in without a good reason.
Wuornos, though, had posed a good question, "Why was I here?"
Good question.
After leaving the street as a probation officer I was quite happy to be returning "home". I really did miss working behind the fence, and was looking forward to a new challenge. It would definitely prove to be a challenge. I decided to remain living in Stuart, and commute to Fort Lauderdale. It's about two hours to the prison from my condo, and I had to leave every day at 5:00am. I didn't return home until well after 7:00pm. At first I decided to take I-95, but that lasted a grand total of one day. If there is one place in this state that is more dangerous than prison it's I-95 in South Florida. Crazy drivers, congestion, and bad weather do not make for a stressless commute. Once, I was caught in a massive rain storm on the Sawgrass Expressway, and I felt as if the world was going to end. I ran the toll booth because I didn't have the proper change, and people were honking at me. I never received a ticket so I guess that's more common than not.
I decided instead to take the back way. US 27 ran down the western side of Broward county, originating around Lake Okeechobee. The trip added about a half hour to my commute, but I just couldn't do the I-95 torture. Even so, I still had some crazy commutes. It was about 5:30am, and I was approaching Pahokee on my way to US 27. Someone had apparently decided to torch a building because part of the town was on fire. I had to take a long detour that almost took me to West Palm Beach. Another time, I had just turned on to US 27 when an armadillo ran into the wheel of my car causing the tire to explode. Part of my wheel was missing. On the way home, large, brilliant lightning storms would dance over Lake Okeechobee like they were playing some kind of mad symphony. And this was just the commute.
I was assigned to Reception/Orientation. Broward is a multiservicee prison. Not only is it the death row facility for women it also serves as the entry point for all new inmates from the county jails in South Florida. In order to be housed in a prison you had to receive a sentence of at least a year and a day. Anything less than that and you were doing your time in county. I would say a good 30 to 40% of our female inmates were serving sentences of two years or less. Why? Most females are serving time for crimes related to drug use and theft. Since most crack users don't have much money they needed to steal it. That was by far the most common story.
I was trained by a seasoned officer who was nearing retirement. He was a good, smart guy who really didn't want to work very hard anymore. Still, I learned a great deal about how the system works simply by working at the front end of the prison experience. I had to review court documents and sentence structure, and make sure all the ducks were in a row. Inmate's criminal histories had to be checked and verified. Inmate interviews had to be conducted to determine where they would best be housed throughout the state. Tests for education, mental health, and medical had to be coordinated and performed. It was a busy job, and I enjoyed it.
Inmates who were new to the system were housed in a seperate dorm from the other inmates. They wore a hideous looking blue "dress" that distinguished them from the rest of the population. The Sergeant in charge of this dorm was quite a peach. She had no use for me from the minute I arrived. In her opinion, men didn't belong in a female prison. I can't say she was wrong, but I did my best to make our relationship work. One thing you learn in a hurry was to have a good working relationship with your line officers. They have the worst job in the prison, and you must earn their respect.
Once most of them learned I had worked at Charlotte things started to improve. Like inmates, your reputation proceeds you. I was able to do quite a bit of good in my orientation class as I told the newbies how best to get good ratings in order to get gain time (days that are shaved off your sentence). I explained the reality of their situation, and was helped by inmates who were one their 2nd, 3rd, etc. incarcerations. One day, I was conducting class when I noticed a woman who looked familiar to me. I realized later that she was a dental hygene assistant who worked at my former dentist office in Fort Myers. She was convicted of stealing drugs from the dentist's office. It's a small world.
Another strange experience was when I had an inmate convicted for multiple robberies, but she didn't commit any of them herself. Apparently, she was some kind of female Charlie Manson-type cult leader who had manipulated her followers into stealing for her. She even tried her philosophical crap on me; that was quite entertaining. The worst woman I ever met was a lady who had been convicted of multiple counts of child abuse. While on crack, she had picked up her baby, and sat him on a hot stove. No remorse whatsoever.
While in the confinement unit for disciplinary report court I had the pleasure of seeing one of the wierdest cell extractions ever. A truly wacked out inmate had barricaded herself in the cell, stripped down buck naked, and was screaming at everyone to bring it on. They cleared us out of the unit before the extraction, but my, oh, my what a day that was.
Which brings me to the most important thing a man learns very quickly working with female inmates; you make damn sure you are never alone with them. Anytime I conducted a class, doors stayed open, and a female officer was present at all times. Many of the male correctional officers were under investigation for allegations of sexual abuse, and I would be damned if I let that happen to me. I never had any problems in my six months at the prison, but I consider myself lucky. Eventually, an allegation would have been leveled; it was the nature of the beast.
While I consider my time at Broward quite a learning experience it was definitely not a place I wanted to stay for the long term. The staff was below par compared to Charlotte; race played a huge role here. For whatever reason, spanish, black, and white officers just did not mix well. You would think that working together would have been a no-brainer. Not here. I generally got along with the other classification officers, but again, it was just not a tight-knit bunch. I was used to working together as a team, and there was just too much "I" for my liking.
One day, I got a call from Charlotte; it was the call I had been waiting for. I was headed back to Charlotte as a Senior Classification Officer. Note only was I getting promoted, I was finally going to get some sleep.
Hallelujah!
Aileen Wuornos was a rare commodity; a female serial killer who was caught alive. Wuornos was a prostitute who had murdered seven of her clients. She was convicted of six of those crimes, and was sentenced to death. Florida has two death rows; one for men and one for women. The male death row is located at Union Correctional Institution located in Raiford, Florida (the actual death chamber is at Florida State Prison in Starke which is right next to Union C.I.). The female death row is housed at Broward Correctional Institution in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. At the time I was there I believe there were a total of three female inmates on death row.
Wuornos was one of the first inmates I met at Broward. Death Row is located pretty close to the entrance which surprised me. I had been in confinement units before, and they were always creepy, but going on a death row for the first time is an experience which you really can't prepare yourself. I have no grand tale to tell here: I was escorted by the female Senior Classification Officer assigned to death row along with the female Sergeant assigned to the unit. We walked up to Wuornos cell, and I looked at her. She was a big, rugged woman dressed in death row orange. I remember locking eyes with her for a brief moment, and she said, "Who's this?"
" He's a new Classification Officer.", the senior officer said.
"Not mine, I hope"
"No, he's going to be working in Reception/Orientation"
"Good".
I should have responded with something, or a question, but quite frankly I just went blank. I had been intimidated before, but never like this. I violated the first rule; never show fear. I don't know how to describe it, but there was an evil aura that surrounded this person. I had no desire to be around her any longer than I had to. I wanted to get out of death row as fast as possible. After we walked down the long hallway, we walked back past Wuornos' cell.
She said, "Why are you here?"
We walked past her without stopping, and I just looked at her. I guess you could say I chickened out, but at the time I just wanted to leave. Banter with Florida's only female serial killer would have been quite fascinating in hindsight, but it's an idea that sounds better in theory than reality. I would never get another chance; for the rest of my time at Broward she was in and out of county jail at court, and access to death row was strictly monitored. Even a Classification Officer just can't walk in without a good reason.
Wuornos, though, had posed a good question, "Why was I here?"
Good question.
After leaving the street as a probation officer I was quite happy to be returning "home". I really did miss working behind the fence, and was looking forward to a new challenge. It would definitely prove to be a challenge. I decided to remain living in Stuart, and commute to Fort Lauderdale. It's about two hours to the prison from my condo, and I had to leave every day at 5:00am. I didn't return home until well after 7:00pm. At first I decided to take I-95, but that lasted a grand total of one day. If there is one place in this state that is more dangerous than prison it's I-95 in South Florida. Crazy drivers, congestion, and bad weather do not make for a stressless commute. Once, I was caught in a massive rain storm on the Sawgrass Expressway, and I felt as if the world was going to end. I ran the toll booth because I didn't have the proper change, and people were honking at me. I never received a ticket so I guess that's more common than not.
I decided instead to take the back way. US 27 ran down the western side of Broward county, originating around Lake Okeechobee. The trip added about a half hour to my commute, but I just couldn't do the I-95 torture. Even so, I still had some crazy commutes. It was about 5:30am, and I was approaching Pahokee on my way to US 27. Someone had apparently decided to torch a building because part of the town was on fire. I had to take a long detour that almost took me to West Palm Beach. Another time, I had just turned on to US 27 when an armadillo ran into the wheel of my car causing the tire to explode. Part of my wheel was missing. On the way home, large, brilliant lightning storms would dance over Lake Okeechobee like they were playing some kind of mad symphony. And this was just the commute.
I was assigned to Reception/Orientation. Broward is a multiservicee prison. Not only is it the death row facility for women it also serves as the entry point for all new inmates from the county jails in South Florida. In order to be housed in a prison you had to receive a sentence of at least a year and a day. Anything less than that and you were doing your time in county. I would say a good 30 to 40% of our female inmates were serving sentences of two years or less. Why? Most females are serving time for crimes related to drug use and theft. Since most crack users don't have much money they needed to steal it. That was by far the most common story.
I was trained by a seasoned officer who was nearing retirement. He was a good, smart guy who really didn't want to work very hard anymore. Still, I learned a great deal about how the system works simply by working at the front end of the prison experience. I had to review court documents and sentence structure, and make sure all the ducks were in a row. Inmate's criminal histories had to be checked and verified. Inmate interviews had to be conducted to determine where they would best be housed throughout the state. Tests for education, mental health, and medical had to be coordinated and performed. It was a busy job, and I enjoyed it.
Inmates who were new to the system were housed in a seperate dorm from the other inmates. They wore a hideous looking blue "dress" that distinguished them from the rest of the population. The Sergeant in charge of this dorm was quite a peach. She had no use for me from the minute I arrived. In her opinion, men didn't belong in a female prison. I can't say she was wrong, but I did my best to make our relationship work. One thing you learn in a hurry was to have a good working relationship with your line officers. They have the worst job in the prison, and you must earn their respect.
Once most of them learned I had worked at Charlotte things started to improve. Like inmates, your reputation proceeds you. I was able to do quite a bit of good in my orientation class as I told the newbies how best to get good ratings in order to get gain time (days that are shaved off your sentence). I explained the reality of their situation, and was helped by inmates who were one their 2nd, 3rd, etc. incarcerations. One day, I was conducting class when I noticed a woman who looked familiar to me. I realized later that she was a dental hygene assistant who worked at my former dentist office in Fort Myers. She was convicted of stealing drugs from the dentist's office. It's a small world.
Another strange experience was when I had an inmate convicted for multiple robberies, but she didn't commit any of them herself. Apparently, she was some kind of female Charlie Manson-type cult leader who had manipulated her followers into stealing for her. She even tried her philosophical crap on me; that was quite entertaining. The worst woman I ever met was a lady who had been convicted of multiple counts of child abuse. While on crack, she had picked up her baby, and sat him on a hot stove. No remorse whatsoever.
While in the confinement unit for disciplinary report court I had the pleasure of seeing one of the wierdest cell extractions ever. A truly wacked out inmate had barricaded herself in the cell, stripped down buck naked, and was screaming at everyone to bring it on. They cleared us out of the unit before the extraction, but my, oh, my what a day that was.
Which brings me to the most important thing a man learns very quickly working with female inmates; you make damn sure you are never alone with them. Anytime I conducted a class, doors stayed open, and a female officer was present at all times. Many of the male correctional officers were under investigation for allegations of sexual abuse, and I would be damned if I let that happen to me. I never had any problems in my six months at the prison, but I consider myself lucky. Eventually, an allegation would have been leveled; it was the nature of the beast.
While I consider my time at Broward quite a learning experience it was definitely not a place I wanted to stay for the long term. The staff was below par compared to Charlotte; race played a huge role here. For whatever reason, spanish, black, and white officers just did not mix well. You would think that working together would have been a no-brainer. Not here. I generally got along with the other classification officers, but again, it was just not a tight-knit bunch. I was used to working together as a team, and there was just too much "I" for my liking.
One day, I got a call from Charlotte; it was the call I had been waiting for. I was headed back to Charlotte as a Senior Classification Officer. Note only was I getting promoted, I was finally going to get some sleep.
Hallelujah!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Post Ten
Hard Times: Part Four
My first couple of years working at Charlotte C.I. were relatively uneventful. I simply tried to get used to dealing with my caseload. In all, it took around one year to really feel comfortable and confident handling a caseload that ranged anywhere from 200-300 inmates at any given time. Charlotte C.I. was classified as a maximum security general population prison with two special units. The first (discussed previously) was the mental health unit. The second was Close Management. Close Management was a lock-down unit housing those inmates who could not function in general population due to behavior or security issues. Both of these units were assigned to experienced classification officers, and I didn't qualify for that honor.
I really got close to a couple of officers during this time period; my future boss and an old, raggedy guy that used to be a warden, but had fallen from grace. Basically, he liked to gamble and drink too much, and he had ticked off the wrong people in Tallahassee once too often. Of all the staff I ever met this guy was the most interesting. He had been in corrections twice as long as I had been alive, and had truly seen it all. His stories and experience were truly without peer; I probably learned more from this man about what real prison work was like than any other person.
He had cut his teeth at the old Florida State Prison-East Unit located in Starke, Florida. This is prison country; more prisons exist in this area (called the Iron Triangle) than any other place in the state. Everyone has family members who work at a prison, or in some cases, entire families work at a prison together. Back in 1960's, Florida prisons were truly scary places. FSP was right out of Lord of the Flies. According to this man, in order to keep inmates quiet in the confinement units officers would shoot shotguns down the wing. Rumor had it an unmarked inmate graveyard existed somewhere on the prison grounds for deaths that were "accidental". My favorite story was what a correctional officer at FSP received as a Christmas bonus; a slab of beef off of a steer from the prison's farm (back then, prisons had to grow their own food). Amazing stuff.
Sometime during my first month on the job I made a really serious mistake that could have ended my career. I was in the general population confinement unit (at that time, X-Dorm) releasing some of my inmates from disciplinary confinement. I accidentally signed out an inmate that was protective management as well as serving disciplinary confinement time. He had been received from a different prison, and there was nothing in his paperwork in the confinement unit that indicated that fact. His status on the computer also didn't reflect PM status. It did, however, show up in his inmate jacket. I failed to do the necessary due diligence, and released this inmate to general population. Why was this action so bad?
Protective management is a status an inmate can "claim" that says he is in fear for his life from another inmate. When an inmate does this he is placed in a confinement unit under "PM" status. A security investigation is done to determine whether or not there are real protective management issues, or if the inmate is simply lying (one guess as to which one happens the most often). Nevertheless, if an inmate is released in error to the compound, like I did, and gets assaulted, then guess who is going to get the blame (and the ax)?
Thankfully, nothing happened, and I was able to get the inmate placed back in PM confinement within an hour, but it was quite a scare. After this incident I started to develop all kinds of spreadsheets and databases so that it would never happen again (being somewhat OCD, I actually enjoyed this). I learned very quickly that you could never have too much information. Information is power, and in prison knowing more about inmates than they do about themselves is a necessary survival skill.
However, after a year into my prison experience I was thrown a curve ball outside of my control. The State of Florida, in an effort to save money, decided to de-certify classification officers. No longer would you need to be a certified law enforcement officer; instead, a couple years experience or an undergraduate degree would be sufficient. I was not happy with this decision at all. I had worked very hard for that certification, and I didn't want to give it up. I weighed my options, and reluctantly decided to go on the street as a probation officer.
I got a job offer immediately in Stuart, Florida, where I had family. A couple months later I had moved from Fort Myers to Stuart, and started on one of the darkest journeys of my life. The whole experience began with a bad omen. The moving company I used demanded cash when I arrived at my grandmother's house. I didn't have the cash so I frantically ran around town buying and then returning items to get cash (the ATM only could give me part of the money I needed). Fun.
I hated the job almost from the very beginning. Stuart's probation office always seemed to have positions available, and I quickly found out why. I'm not sure why, but most of the officer's just didn't seem to give a damn about helping each other out. And that attitude was just among those officers that were already working there; newbies were regarded as a temporary annoyance. In their eyes I was a certified probation officer, and was sufficiently ready to handle a caseload. Total B.S., but by the letter of the law they were correct. So, after a week of "training" I was thrown to the wolves.
Being a street probation officer is pure and utter chaos. I hated it immediately, and regretted my rash decision to move from the prisons to the street. The two just didn't mix. The skills you develop to survive in a prison environment are almost useless on the street. In general, your are at the mercy of your offenders. You never know where they are. You never know if they will show up for a meeting. You never know if they will pay their restitution, and worst of all, you never know when (not if, in most cases) they will re-offend. It's just madness.
What really was bad about the job was that my area of responsibility covered (approximately) a 20 mile circle. Let's say I have 100 offenders, and I have to make a home visit once a month with each of them. Well, that can get a little stressful, especially if you figure that you have dozens of other responsibilities (court appearances, office visits, jail visits, file audits, restitution reviews, victim notifications, and officer of the day duties just to name a few). Oh, and you have to do all of these things in a 40 hour work week (no overtime allowed; this is the State of Florida; not New York City). And if something blows up on your caseload outside of your control (like one of your offenders molesting a little girl, or killing someone) guess who gets blamed?
It didn't take me long to realize I had made a huge mistake. One day, I received a call from my former boss at Charlotte. He asked me how I liked my new job. After a half hour venting session he said that he would do whatever he could to get me back. In order for that to happen, though, I had to go back into the prison system as there were no openings at Charlotte. I started looking on the Internet, and found two open Classification Officer positions. One was at Everglades C.I. located in Miami. Everglades was one of the state's largest prisons with over 1,700 inmates. It also had the reputation as one of the most corrupt facilities; rumor had it that the correctional officers were actively recruited by the inmates (a huge amount of Florida's inmates come from Broward and Dade counties). Thanks, but no thanks.
The second option seemed even worse. Broward C.I. is Florida's women's death row/mental health/reception facility. Now, I'm not being sexist, but when women go the criminal route, and end up behind the fence, it is not a good thing at all. Women do not take to prison as well as men, in my experience. I don't know why, but that 's just the way I saw it. At the time, though, working with women behind bars was much more appealing than staying on the street. I put in my papers to go to Broward C.I.
So ended the six month experiment of street probation work. It was an unmitigated disaster in every sense, and I truly wish I could take back the decision to leave Charlotte C.I.. This decision (and one other to be discussed later) were the only real regrets I had in eight years of correctional work. I have nothing but respect for street probation officers; they do a job I cannot do, nor would ever do again. I guess I am not built for it, as they say.
So, I was on my way to meet my first serial killer and a hive full of angry women. Until next time...
My first couple of years working at Charlotte C.I. were relatively uneventful. I simply tried to get used to dealing with my caseload. In all, it took around one year to really feel comfortable and confident handling a caseload that ranged anywhere from 200-300 inmates at any given time. Charlotte C.I. was classified as a maximum security general population prison with two special units. The first (discussed previously) was the mental health unit. The second was Close Management. Close Management was a lock-down unit housing those inmates who could not function in general population due to behavior or security issues. Both of these units were assigned to experienced classification officers, and I didn't qualify for that honor.
I really got close to a couple of officers during this time period; my future boss and an old, raggedy guy that used to be a warden, but had fallen from grace. Basically, he liked to gamble and drink too much, and he had ticked off the wrong people in Tallahassee once too often. Of all the staff I ever met this guy was the most interesting. He had been in corrections twice as long as I had been alive, and had truly seen it all. His stories and experience were truly without peer; I probably learned more from this man about what real prison work was like than any other person.
He had cut his teeth at the old Florida State Prison-East Unit located in Starke, Florida. This is prison country; more prisons exist in this area (called the Iron Triangle) than any other place in the state. Everyone has family members who work at a prison, or in some cases, entire families work at a prison together. Back in 1960's, Florida prisons were truly scary places. FSP was right out of Lord of the Flies. According to this man, in order to keep inmates quiet in the confinement units officers would shoot shotguns down the wing. Rumor had it an unmarked inmate graveyard existed somewhere on the prison grounds for deaths that were "accidental". My favorite story was what a correctional officer at FSP received as a Christmas bonus; a slab of beef off of a steer from the prison's farm (back then, prisons had to grow their own food). Amazing stuff.
Sometime during my first month on the job I made a really serious mistake that could have ended my career. I was in the general population confinement unit (at that time, X-Dorm) releasing some of my inmates from disciplinary confinement. I accidentally signed out an inmate that was protective management as well as serving disciplinary confinement time. He had been received from a different prison, and there was nothing in his paperwork in the confinement unit that indicated that fact. His status on the computer also didn't reflect PM status. It did, however, show up in his inmate jacket. I failed to do the necessary due diligence, and released this inmate to general population. Why was this action so bad?
Protective management is a status an inmate can "claim" that says he is in fear for his life from another inmate. When an inmate does this he is placed in a confinement unit under "PM" status. A security investigation is done to determine whether or not there are real protective management issues, or if the inmate is simply lying (one guess as to which one happens the most often). Nevertheless, if an inmate is released in error to the compound, like I did, and gets assaulted, then guess who is going to get the blame (and the ax)?
Thankfully, nothing happened, and I was able to get the inmate placed back in PM confinement within an hour, but it was quite a scare. After this incident I started to develop all kinds of spreadsheets and databases so that it would never happen again (being somewhat OCD, I actually enjoyed this). I learned very quickly that you could never have too much information. Information is power, and in prison knowing more about inmates than they do about themselves is a necessary survival skill.
However, after a year into my prison experience I was thrown a curve ball outside of my control. The State of Florida, in an effort to save money, decided to de-certify classification officers. No longer would you need to be a certified law enforcement officer; instead, a couple years experience or an undergraduate degree would be sufficient. I was not happy with this decision at all. I had worked very hard for that certification, and I didn't want to give it up. I weighed my options, and reluctantly decided to go on the street as a probation officer.
I got a job offer immediately in Stuart, Florida, where I had family. A couple months later I had moved from Fort Myers to Stuart, and started on one of the darkest journeys of my life. The whole experience began with a bad omen. The moving company I used demanded cash when I arrived at my grandmother's house. I didn't have the cash so I frantically ran around town buying and then returning items to get cash (the ATM only could give me part of the money I needed). Fun.
I hated the job almost from the very beginning. Stuart's probation office always seemed to have positions available, and I quickly found out why. I'm not sure why, but most of the officer's just didn't seem to give a damn about helping each other out. And that attitude was just among those officers that were already working there; newbies were regarded as a temporary annoyance. In their eyes I was a certified probation officer, and was sufficiently ready to handle a caseload. Total B.S., but by the letter of the law they were correct. So, after a week of "training" I was thrown to the wolves.
Being a street probation officer is pure and utter chaos. I hated it immediately, and regretted my rash decision to move from the prisons to the street. The two just didn't mix. The skills you develop to survive in a prison environment are almost useless on the street. In general, your are at the mercy of your offenders. You never know where they are. You never know if they will show up for a meeting. You never know if they will pay their restitution, and worst of all, you never know when (not if, in most cases) they will re-offend. It's just madness.
What really was bad about the job was that my area of responsibility covered (approximately) a 20 mile circle. Let's say I have 100 offenders, and I have to make a home visit once a month with each of them. Well, that can get a little stressful, especially if you figure that you have dozens of other responsibilities (court appearances, office visits, jail visits, file audits, restitution reviews, victim notifications, and officer of the day duties just to name a few). Oh, and you have to do all of these things in a 40 hour work week (no overtime allowed; this is the State of Florida; not New York City). And if something blows up on your caseload outside of your control (like one of your offenders molesting a little girl, or killing someone) guess who gets blamed?
It didn't take me long to realize I had made a huge mistake. One day, I received a call from my former boss at Charlotte. He asked me how I liked my new job. After a half hour venting session he said that he would do whatever he could to get me back. In order for that to happen, though, I had to go back into the prison system as there were no openings at Charlotte. I started looking on the Internet, and found two open Classification Officer positions. One was at Everglades C.I. located in Miami. Everglades was one of the state's largest prisons with over 1,700 inmates. It also had the reputation as one of the most corrupt facilities; rumor had it that the correctional officers were actively recruited by the inmates (a huge amount of Florida's inmates come from Broward and Dade counties). Thanks, but no thanks.
The second option seemed even worse. Broward C.I. is Florida's women's death row/mental health/reception facility. Now, I'm not being sexist, but when women go the criminal route, and end up behind the fence, it is not a good thing at all. Women do not take to prison as well as men, in my experience. I don't know why, but that 's just the way I saw it. At the time, though, working with women behind bars was much more appealing than staying on the street. I put in my papers to go to Broward C.I.
So ended the six month experiment of street probation work. It was an unmitigated disaster in every sense, and I truly wish I could take back the decision to leave Charlotte C.I.. This decision (and one other to be discussed later) were the only real regrets I had in eight years of correctional work. I have nothing but respect for street probation officers; they do a job I cannot do, nor would ever do again. I guess I am not built for it, as they say.
So, I was on my way to meet my first serial killer and a hive full of angry women. Until next time...
Monday, November 29, 2010
Post Nine
Hard Times: Part Three
First, I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving holiday. Speaking for myself, I ate way too much, watched too much football (Personal Shout Out: congrats to the Missouri Tigers on a 10 win season!), and had a hard time waking up Monday morning, but all in all it was a good break.
One of the things that I thought about over the holiday was what to cover next. I could easily turn my prison experience blog into one horror story after another, but that really wouldn't be accurate or desirable. Prison, for all it's terrors, is a pretty boring place most of the time. However, when things go bad, they go REALLY bad. So this next post will cover the day-to-day grind of working in a hostile environment, and it's long-term effects on one's psyche. I am not speaking for everyone, of course. This experience is my own, and others who went through the things I did may not feel the same way, but I think it's a pretty accurate accounting.
Militarily speaking, being in a combat theater of operations is described by many as long periods of boredom punctuated by brief moments of terror (or what I call extreme emotional events). During those events, people generally cease to function as a normal human being. One of the reasons soldiers are screamed at in basic training is to make an individual react a certain way in combat. Generally speaking, it's not in one's best interest to charge head first into machine gun fire; yet, that is what a soldier is expected to do. Their training is designed to allow a person to do things they normally would never do. Disregard for personal safety is not an easy thing to achieve, and even the best of us "break" under combat conditions.
Now, I am not saying working in a prison is like being in combat; at least, not exactly. Inmates don't have guns (well, almost never), and you're not being asked to do superhuman acts like many soldiers regularly do in combat. There is, however, one way where prison is actually more stressful than combat. In combat, you know the gunfire will eventually end, and the war will be over. In prison, you don't have that luxury. You can quit, sure, but if you want a job you must keep coming back, day after day, no matter what. It's a grind that truly wears on even the toughest minded person. It's why many inmates who serve life sentences truly become "institutionalized"; in other words, they are unfit for living in the real world. It happens to inmates and it happens to staff who work too long in prisons. Like a soldier in combat for too long they are irreparably harmed mentally by their experiences.
That first year in prison is the hardest time, whether you're an inmate or staff member, you will ever do. I had combat veterans from Vietnam and Iraq who both told me that prison is more stressful. Why? Because it never ends. In all ways that matter, working or serving time in a prison is like being in a war that never ends. You're just the most recent victim.
I remember the first day I met some of my inmates who were assigned to me. Out of the gate, I was given around 200 to supervise. Back then, Charlotte C.I. was still a general population maximum security prison (it would eventually become a lock-down Supermax). Most of my inmates were "general pop" which meant that they had jobs and lived together in a dorm with relative freedom of movement. So ingrained is that day in my mind that I still remember the first inmate who sat across from me for a progress report; I remember his face, his name, and his "DC number" (Note: all Florida prisoners receive a six digit identification number with a prefix that indicates their current stint in prison; for example, a DC number of C-123456 would indicate that the inmate is serving his fourth stint in prison as the first commitment begins with the number 0). I remember those details not only because I have a good memory, but because I was scared to death. The inmate in front of me was a murderer who had served over a decade in prison. He had some assaults on his disciplinary record, he was uncuffed, and he and I were in the same room alone. Someone like this, who has survived and even thrived in the prison environment is not only dangerous, but truly frightening.
Of course, it all went without incident. The meeting lasted about ten minutes, and off he went. While it meant nothing to this inmate, for me it was a major hurdle. I figured out very quickly that even if you are scared out of your wits you must show no fear on the outside. Inmates can smell it, and it is truly something that can get you hurt or killed. As a staff member, you have the power, and it's up to you to stand tall in the face of violence and intimidation. The only thing that inmates and even other security staff respect is mental toughness. I have seen women who were outweighed by 150lbs chew out a hardened convict with no fear whatsoever; it takes guts to do that. There is one problem with all this though...
In order to be mentally tough day-to-day you must be in a constant state of readiness. For security staff this is a given as they have physical confrontations with inmates all of the time. For a Classification Officer like me, though, who isn't in uniform it's a lot trickier. While security had a certain level of authority based solely on the fact that they were the law in the prison quasi-civilians like me had no such innate authority symbols beyond our demeanor and reputation. Security staff does not like to admit this fact, but I was just as much at risk for a physical confrontation as they were. I walked the compound, went in the units, and put myself in danger on numerous occasions. Sometimes, I would be on the yard surrounded by dozens of inmates without a security officer in sight. Regardless of how tough you think you are this level of stress will take it's toll.
Over time you develop a certain level of awareness, a sixth sense if you will, for danger. Some would call it paranoia, but I called it survival. For instance, I would always walk with a pen in my hand with the tip exposed held like a dagger. That way, if I was grabbed from behind I could jab the pen straight into the inmate's neck. Another thing you did without thinking was to always stand with your left foot forward (I'm right handed) when facing an inmate. That way, you were always in a defensive stance to defend yourself. You never allowed inmates to approach from behind. When walking the yard you always turned to look every 30 seconds or so. You never went into a secluded part of the prison alone, or in areas with many blind corners. These are things you did instinctively, or you didn't last long. You gained confidence that you could handle yourself, but the main problem is you had to turn "it" off.
That sixth sense I describe is very valuable in prison, but of little use in the real world. When I came home, I had very little in common with anyone on the outside. It became hard to trust or deal with anyone because they didn't understand me or the nature of my job. In effect, my job became my life. It destroyed any chance of a positive social life on the outside. I became secluded and recluse. It was all very unhealthy.
Unlike most of my colleagues, I didn't turn to the bottle or drugs. I truly believe it was the grace of God that allowed me to survive, and become a productive member of society outside of the prison. Most don't. Dark humor: we used to say that the Florida Department of Corrections had the largest pension fund in the state because no one ever lived long enough to collect. It's funny how you both love and hate the prison at the same time. It becomes a lot like a living, breathing member of your immediate family. I remember in the Francis Ford Coppola Vietnam war film, "Apocalypse Now", where Charlie Sheen describes in the opening scene how all he could think about when he was home was going back, and when he was there we wanted nothing more than to go home. It's a paradox, and only those who experience extreme emotional situations on a constant basis can really understand. It's in every way unexplainable.
Once I finally left the prison system I met a Physician's Assistant who had been a Captain in the Special Forces (a.k.a The Green Berets). His primary role was a combat physician, but he carried a gun, and killed people in combat just like any other member of his unit. I told him what I had done for a living, and how after leaving I felt depressed and useless. How I wanted nothing more than to go back. How it made no sense, and how it was literally driving me insane with unmitigated rage at not being able to handle myself. How I had dreams at night that I couldn't remember, but where I would wake up in cold sweats, shaking from some unknown demon I was unable to confront and defeat. I was losing, and I needed help.
He smiled, and said simply, "You won't ever get over it. But you can learn to live with it. In time, the wounds will heal. You have been through traumatic events, and your mind is not used to being at ease. It has forgotten how. But time will heal all wounds."
It wasn't much comfort, but a mild anti-depressant, along with tons of prayer, and a loving, patient wife got me through the immediate impact of not being in prison.. Now the dreams only come infrequently, and the paranoia has diminished to the point where I don't view unknown persons as a mortal threat. That's progress. And yet I still think daily about that place, and I probably always will. Like a combat vet, we are both damaged, but getting by. Like Rambo says,
"How do we live, John?"
"Day by Day"
First, I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving holiday. Speaking for myself, I ate way too much, watched too much football (Personal Shout Out: congrats to the Missouri Tigers on a 10 win season!), and had a hard time waking up Monday morning, but all in all it was a good break.
One of the things that I thought about over the holiday was what to cover next. I could easily turn my prison experience blog into one horror story after another, but that really wouldn't be accurate or desirable. Prison, for all it's terrors, is a pretty boring place most of the time. However, when things go bad, they go REALLY bad. So this next post will cover the day-to-day grind of working in a hostile environment, and it's long-term effects on one's psyche. I am not speaking for everyone, of course. This experience is my own, and others who went through the things I did may not feel the same way, but I think it's a pretty accurate accounting.
Militarily speaking, being in a combat theater of operations is described by many as long periods of boredom punctuated by brief moments of terror (or what I call extreme emotional events). During those events, people generally cease to function as a normal human being. One of the reasons soldiers are screamed at in basic training is to make an individual react a certain way in combat. Generally speaking, it's not in one's best interest to charge head first into machine gun fire; yet, that is what a soldier is expected to do. Their training is designed to allow a person to do things they normally would never do. Disregard for personal safety is not an easy thing to achieve, and even the best of us "break" under combat conditions.
Now, I am not saying working in a prison is like being in combat; at least, not exactly. Inmates don't have guns (well, almost never), and you're not being asked to do superhuman acts like many soldiers regularly do in combat. There is, however, one way where prison is actually more stressful than combat. In combat, you know the gunfire will eventually end, and the war will be over. In prison, you don't have that luxury. You can quit, sure, but if you want a job you must keep coming back, day after day, no matter what. It's a grind that truly wears on even the toughest minded person. It's why many inmates who serve life sentences truly become "institutionalized"; in other words, they are unfit for living in the real world. It happens to inmates and it happens to staff who work too long in prisons. Like a soldier in combat for too long they are irreparably harmed mentally by their experiences.
That first year in prison is the hardest time, whether you're an inmate or staff member, you will ever do. I had combat veterans from Vietnam and Iraq who both told me that prison is more stressful. Why? Because it never ends. In all ways that matter, working or serving time in a prison is like being in a war that never ends. You're just the most recent victim.
I remember the first day I met some of my inmates who were assigned to me. Out of the gate, I was given around 200 to supervise. Back then, Charlotte C.I. was still a general population maximum security prison (it would eventually become a lock-down Supermax). Most of my inmates were "general pop" which meant that they had jobs and lived together in a dorm with relative freedom of movement. So ingrained is that day in my mind that I still remember the first inmate who sat across from me for a progress report; I remember his face, his name, and his "DC number" (Note: all Florida prisoners receive a six digit identification number with a prefix that indicates their current stint in prison; for example, a DC number of C-123456 would indicate that the inmate is serving his fourth stint in prison as the first commitment begins with the number 0). I remember those details not only because I have a good memory, but because I was scared to death. The inmate in front of me was a murderer who had served over a decade in prison. He had some assaults on his disciplinary record, he was uncuffed, and he and I were in the same room alone. Someone like this, who has survived and even thrived in the prison environment is not only dangerous, but truly frightening.
Of course, it all went without incident. The meeting lasted about ten minutes, and off he went. While it meant nothing to this inmate, for me it was a major hurdle. I figured out very quickly that even if you are scared out of your wits you must show no fear on the outside. Inmates can smell it, and it is truly something that can get you hurt or killed. As a staff member, you have the power, and it's up to you to stand tall in the face of violence and intimidation. The only thing that inmates and even other security staff respect is mental toughness. I have seen women who were outweighed by 150lbs chew out a hardened convict with no fear whatsoever; it takes guts to do that. There is one problem with all this though...
In order to be mentally tough day-to-day you must be in a constant state of readiness. For security staff this is a given as they have physical confrontations with inmates all of the time. For a Classification Officer like me, though, who isn't in uniform it's a lot trickier. While security had a certain level of authority based solely on the fact that they were the law in the prison quasi-civilians like me had no such innate authority symbols beyond our demeanor and reputation. Security staff does not like to admit this fact, but I was just as much at risk for a physical confrontation as they were. I walked the compound, went in the units, and put myself in danger on numerous occasions. Sometimes, I would be on the yard surrounded by dozens of inmates without a security officer in sight. Regardless of how tough you think you are this level of stress will take it's toll.
Over time you develop a certain level of awareness, a sixth sense if you will, for danger. Some would call it paranoia, but I called it survival. For instance, I would always walk with a pen in my hand with the tip exposed held like a dagger. That way, if I was grabbed from behind I could jab the pen straight into the inmate's neck. Another thing you did without thinking was to always stand with your left foot forward (I'm right handed) when facing an inmate. That way, you were always in a defensive stance to defend yourself. You never allowed inmates to approach from behind. When walking the yard you always turned to look every 30 seconds or so. You never went into a secluded part of the prison alone, or in areas with many blind corners. These are things you did instinctively, or you didn't last long. You gained confidence that you could handle yourself, but the main problem is you had to turn "it" off.
That sixth sense I describe is very valuable in prison, but of little use in the real world. When I came home, I had very little in common with anyone on the outside. It became hard to trust or deal with anyone because they didn't understand me or the nature of my job. In effect, my job became my life. It destroyed any chance of a positive social life on the outside. I became secluded and recluse. It was all very unhealthy.
Unlike most of my colleagues, I didn't turn to the bottle or drugs. I truly believe it was the grace of God that allowed me to survive, and become a productive member of society outside of the prison. Most don't. Dark humor: we used to say that the Florida Department of Corrections had the largest pension fund in the state because no one ever lived long enough to collect. It's funny how you both love and hate the prison at the same time. It becomes a lot like a living, breathing member of your immediate family. I remember in the Francis Ford Coppola Vietnam war film, "Apocalypse Now", where Charlie Sheen describes in the opening scene how all he could think about when he was home was going back, and when he was there we wanted nothing more than to go home. It's a paradox, and only those who experience extreme emotional situations on a constant basis can really understand. It's in every way unexplainable.
Once I finally left the prison system I met a Physician's Assistant who had been a Captain in the Special Forces (a.k.a The Green Berets). His primary role was a combat physician, but he carried a gun, and killed people in combat just like any other member of his unit. I told him what I had done for a living, and how after leaving I felt depressed and useless. How I wanted nothing more than to go back. How it made no sense, and how it was literally driving me insane with unmitigated rage at not being able to handle myself. How I had dreams at night that I couldn't remember, but where I would wake up in cold sweats, shaking from some unknown demon I was unable to confront and defeat. I was losing, and I needed help.
He smiled, and said simply, "You won't ever get over it. But you can learn to live with it. In time, the wounds will heal. You have been through traumatic events, and your mind is not used to being at ease. It has forgotten how. But time will heal all wounds."
It wasn't much comfort, but a mild anti-depressant, along with tons of prayer, and a loving, patient wife got me through the immediate impact of not being in prison.. Now the dreams only come infrequently, and the paranoia has diminished to the point where I don't view unknown persons as a mortal threat. That's progress. And yet I still think daily about that place, and I probably always will. Like a combat vet, we are both damaged, but getting by. Like Rambo says,
"How do we live, John?"
"Day by Day"
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Post Eight
Hard Times: Part Two
"I guess you don't find horror movies very frightening anymore...". I spoke those exact words to my future supervisor. It was my second week on the job. The first week was spent in orientation classes. The only thing I remember about that turgid experience was that the Warden introduced himself, and told us about spiders. In prison, inmates have pets; not cats and dogs, but bugs and spiders. The Warden told us to never kill spiders, not because the inmates had adopted them as pets, but because they created webs. The creation of webs gave the inmates something to clean up. It provided work and a distraction from unpleasant thoughts like killing their cellmate, killing staff members, stealing, rape, or escape. Such was the the way of things.
Anway, back to that statement I made. We were in C-Dorm, affectionately know as the "Nuthut". C-Dorm housed the mentally ill inmates. Some were fakers who simply wanted their own cell and air conditioning (due to the psychotropic medications housed and dispensed in this dorm the State had to air-condition the whole unit; it was the only dorm that had this luxury at the prison). Their kind lasted only a couple of days before the doctors could declare them sain, and boot them back to general population. Others were somewhat troubled by their circumstances (after all, prison is by it's very nature a stressful enivornment), and were simply depressed (who wasn't?). However, about half were legit; paranoid schizophrenics, bipolars (massive and sometimes violent mood shifts), multiple personalities, and just plain homicidal sociopaths. Charlotte had every kind of horror imaginable.
My future supervisor was doing DR Court that day. I was simply an observer, but was new meat, and, therefore, a curiosity. I was 23 years old, tall, thin, and very white. Inmate predators loved that. As one particularly vile inmate was brought out for court he pratically drooled when he saw me. "Who's this, your boyfriend?" was the polite way of putting what I remember this creature saying. What he really said I don't want to put in print. My comrade in arms jokingly told him to settle down and behave as I was new, and he didn't want the inmate scaring me off the first time in the unit.
A this point I should explain the prison heirarchy. On one side you have civilians; teachers, medical personnel, librarians, chaplains, etc. On the other side you had security. Classification Officers were in the middle; we neither were civilians (being certified law enforcement officers) or civilians. Security treated us like civilians, though. If you weren't wearing brown (the color of their uniform), you weren't one of them.
Security is structured like the military. On the bottom you have the line officers who make up the majority of security. Above them you have sergeants who run dorms during a shift, work details, and the like. Above them are the "white shirts"; lieutenants and above. They are called "white shirts" because their tunic is white, and not brown like officers and sergeants. Lieutenants were our counterparts in Classification. Theoretically, we had the same rank, but the lieutenants had much more pull being they were part of Security.
Lieutenants were in charge of entire dorms over all three shifts (prisons have three shifts: days, afternoons, and midnights). Above them were Captains who were in charge of entire shifts. Then, you had the Colonel who was the head of Security. Beyond Colonel you had two Assistant Wardens. One ran Programs (where Classification fell), and the other ran Operations (Security and all services at the prison like Laundry, Maintenance, etc). While in theory they were of equal rank the Assistant Warden-Operations was much more powerful because he ran security. And, finally, you had the Warden who was in charge of everything. Wardens are dictators in everything but name whose say is final.
The inmate who made that awful comment to me was brought out from his cell to the DR hearing. He was a pathetic, but frightful, site. He was black (not being racist, but most of Florida prisons are comprised of black males, it's just a fact), and probably in his late 30's. He had rotten teeth; a few missing. You could smell him from 10 feet away, a sort of rotten smell like food that has gone bad. He was a big man, but not tall. His buggy eyes and and drooping jaw were his most prominent features. Mentally, he was a violent paranoid schizophrenic who had assaulted many inmates and security staff. The inmate was serving a life sentence for murder.
Security brought him out of his cell in chains. Handcuffs in front, but attached to other chains which wrapped around his legs, his hands secured against his body by a belt. He waddled to his seat, instead of walked, and was plopped down by two big security officers onto a metal bench that had been imbedded by concrete into the concrete floor. Nothing in common areas was ever allowed to be anything but bolted down in some way lest it be used as a weapon.
The Sergeant, more than a little nuts himself, began and ended the hearing.
"Now, we're going to find you guilty, but you can appeal. Any questions?"
The inmate responded, "Sarge, I don't think you can do that."
The Sergeant smiled and laughed. "This is prison. We CAN do that."
And so it was over. The inmate was sentenced to something, and I don't even remember the charge. It wasn't important. This inmate wasn't going anywhere, and he wasn't getting out of confinement for years. For the Sergeant the whole thing was a waste of time, and he ended the hearing in the most efficient way possible for him. Safety and security of the public and facility were the guiding words of every security officer of rank. I always remember the words of Sean Connery in the Untouchables, "You have just fulfilled the first rule of police work...when you finish your shift go home alive."
Technically, the inmate should have been given a fair hearing with rules of evidence, witnesses, etc. Realistically, with inmates like this one that rarely happened. Many times security wouldn't even have the inmate come to the hearing claiming that the inmate refused to appear. Many times this was true; some inmates just gave up. Other times, well, it was assumed they didn't want to appear. Whatever works. It wasn't justice, it was just us.
"Over here", my future boss said to me on the way out of dorm. "Look at this."
I was standing in front of a cell that had police tape over it. The cell door was open, and it was dark inside. On the floor, though, you could clearly make out stains. A whole lot of stains. I assumed correctly that those stains were indeed dried blood.
A couple of weeks before I started at Charlotte something terrible had happened in that cell. Disclaimer: What follows is what I know to be true, but cannot prove. It is hearsay, but it is what I believe to be true.
An inmate at another facility had bitten an officer. This inmate had full blown AIDS, and was known to want to take as many with him to death as possible. This inmate was transferred in the middle of the night to Charlotte. He was escorted to C-Dorm. The next morning, the inmate was found in his cell naked, and "four pointed" (all limbs tied to each end of the bed) to his rack. Blood was everywhere. He appeared to have been beaten to death.
The officers involved were tried for murder, and acquitted a few months later. I remember everyone being on edge on the day of the verdict as it was feared the inmates might retaliate or riot. Luckily, that didn't happen. The officers did lose their jobs, though.
After seeing that cell, I pondered my situation. How could I work in a place that almost required one to break the law, or at least turn a blind eye, to survive? I prayed and cried more than once about the matter, but decided to make it work. God would have to get me through it. If Jews in concentration camps had survived so could I. I would just have to tread carefully, and be smart. If it were only that easy. The worst was yet to come.
"I guess you don't find horror movies very frightening anymore...". I spoke those exact words to my future supervisor. It was my second week on the job. The first week was spent in orientation classes. The only thing I remember about that turgid experience was that the Warden introduced himself, and told us about spiders. In prison, inmates have pets; not cats and dogs, but bugs and spiders. The Warden told us to never kill spiders, not because the inmates had adopted them as pets, but because they created webs. The creation of webs gave the inmates something to clean up. It provided work and a distraction from unpleasant thoughts like killing their cellmate, killing staff members, stealing, rape, or escape. Such was the the way of things.
Anway, back to that statement I made. We were in C-Dorm, affectionately know as the "Nuthut". C-Dorm housed the mentally ill inmates. Some were fakers who simply wanted their own cell and air conditioning (due to the psychotropic medications housed and dispensed in this dorm the State had to air-condition the whole unit; it was the only dorm that had this luxury at the prison). Their kind lasted only a couple of days before the doctors could declare them sain, and boot them back to general population. Others were somewhat troubled by their circumstances (after all, prison is by it's very nature a stressful enivornment), and were simply depressed (who wasn't?). However, about half were legit; paranoid schizophrenics, bipolars (massive and sometimes violent mood shifts), multiple personalities, and just plain homicidal sociopaths. Charlotte had every kind of horror imaginable.
My future supervisor was doing DR Court that day. I was simply an observer, but was new meat, and, therefore, a curiosity. I was 23 years old, tall, thin, and very white. Inmate predators loved that. As one particularly vile inmate was brought out for court he pratically drooled when he saw me. "Who's this, your boyfriend?" was the polite way of putting what I remember this creature saying. What he really said I don't want to put in print. My comrade in arms jokingly told him to settle down and behave as I was new, and he didn't want the inmate scaring me off the first time in the unit.
A this point I should explain the prison heirarchy. On one side you have civilians; teachers, medical personnel, librarians, chaplains, etc. On the other side you had security. Classification Officers were in the middle; we neither were civilians (being certified law enforcement officers) or civilians. Security treated us like civilians, though. If you weren't wearing brown (the color of their uniform), you weren't one of them.
Security is structured like the military. On the bottom you have the line officers who make up the majority of security. Above them you have sergeants who run dorms during a shift, work details, and the like. Above them are the "white shirts"; lieutenants and above. They are called "white shirts" because their tunic is white, and not brown like officers and sergeants. Lieutenants were our counterparts in Classification. Theoretically, we had the same rank, but the lieutenants had much more pull being they were part of Security.
Lieutenants were in charge of entire dorms over all three shifts (prisons have three shifts: days, afternoons, and midnights). Above them were Captains who were in charge of entire shifts. Then, you had the Colonel who was the head of Security. Beyond Colonel you had two Assistant Wardens. One ran Programs (where Classification fell), and the other ran Operations (Security and all services at the prison like Laundry, Maintenance, etc). While in theory they were of equal rank the Assistant Warden-Operations was much more powerful because he ran security. And, finally, you had the Warden who was in charge of everything. Wardens are dictators in everything but name whose say is final.
The inmate who made that awful comment to me was brought out from his cell to the DR hearing. He was a pathetic, but frightful, site. He was black (not being racist, but most of Florida prisons are comprised of black males, it's just a fact), and probably in his late 30's. He had rotten teeth; a few missing. You could smell him from 10 feet away, a sort of rotten smell like food that has gone bad. He was a big man, but not tall. His buggy eyes and and drooping jaw were his most prominent features. Mentally, he was a violent paranoid schizophrenic who had assaulted many inmates and security staff. The inmate was serving a life sentence for murder.
Security brought him out of his cell in chains. Handcuffs in front, but attached to other chains which wrapped around his legs, his hands secured against his body by a belt. He waddled to his seat, instead of walked, and was plopped down by two big security officers onto a metal bench that had been imbedded by concrete into the concrete floor. Nothing in common areas was ever allowed to be anything but bolted down in some way lest it be used as a weapon.
The Sergeant, more than a little nuts himself, began and ended the hearing.
"Now, we're going to find you guilty, but you can appeal. Any questions?"
The inmate responded, "Sarge, I don't think you can do that."
The Sergeant smiled and laughed. "This is prison. We CAN do that."
And so it was over. The inmate was sentenced to something, and I don't even remember the charge. It wasn't important. This inmate wasn't going anywhere, and he wasn't getting out of confinement for years. For the Sergeant the whole thing was a waste of time, and he ended the hearing in the most efficient way possible for him. Safety and security of the public and facility were the guiding words of every security officer of rank. I always remember the words of Sean Connery in the Untouchables, "You have just fulfilled the first rule of police work...when you finish your shift go home alive."
Technically, the inmate should have been given a fair hearing with rules of evidence, witnesses, etc. Realistically, with inmates like this one that rarely happened. Many times security wouldn't even have the inmate come to the hearing claiming that the inmate refused to appear. Many times this was true; some inmates just gave up. Other times, well, it was assumed they didn't want to appear. Whatever works. It wasn't justice, it was just us.
"Over here", my future boss said to me on the way out of dorm. "Look at this."
I was standing in front of a cell that had police tape over it. The cell door was open, and it was dark inside. On the floor, though, you could clearly make out stains. A whole lot of stains. I assumed correctly that those stains were indeed dried blood.
A couple of weeks before I started at Charlotte something terrible had happened in that cell. Disclaimer: What follows is what I know to be true, but cannot prove. It is hearsay, but it is what I believe to be true.
An inmate at another facility had bitten an officer. This inmate had full blown AIDS, and was known to want to take as many with him to death as possible. This inmate was transferred in the middle of the night to Charlotte. He was escorted to C-Dorm. The next morning, the inmate was found in his cell naked, and "four pointed" (all limbs tied to each end of the bed) to his rack. Blood was everywhere. He appeared to have been beaten to death.
The officers involved were tried for murder, and acquitted a few months later. I remember everyone being on edge on the day of the verdict as it was feared the inmates might retaliate or riot. Luckily, that didn't happen. The officers did lose their jobs, though.
After seeing that cell, I pondered my situation. How could I work in a place that almost required one to break the law, or at least turn a blind eye, to survive? I prayed and cried more than once about the matter, but decided to make it work. God would have to get me through it. If Jews in concentration camps had survived so could I. I would just have to tread carefully, and be smart. If it were only that easy. The worst was yet to come.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Post Seven
Hard Times: Part One
I have debated writing about this subject for a long time. Every time I start I just can't do it. The hard things are always that way. Usually, writing comes as easy to me as breathing, but this subject is almost too tough. Too emotional. Too scary. And in some ways, just unspeakable. But I think it's high past time that I actually try to get down on paper what I think about every day; what dominates my thoughts, and eats away at a good night's sleep descending all too often into nightmares. I must warn you up front that this series of posts will not be for the faint of heart. A subject as dark as the one I am about to write is filled with half-truths, bald faced lies, and total misunderstandings. To hear the truth, which I intend to convey lest this whole exercise be in vain, is not comfortable or pleasant. If dark matters offend your sensibilities I suggest you tune out. All others, climb aboard a train headed into a terrifying world.
This story begins in 1996 when I was still in college in Missouri. Back then, I was fully confident that I was heading to the FBI. I had good grades, and my major, Criminal Justice, had prepared me for entry into the elite law enforcement agency in the country. Ever since the classic film, Silence of the Lambs, I had wanted to go find the next Hannibal Lecter. But as with most such dreams this one ended in disappointment. Due to an eye condition I couldn't pass the FBI's rigorous physical exam.
So, what is one to do when their childhood dream ends before it even starts? Well, for me, I spent the next year and a half wandering between a job I hated (small loan origination and collection), and moving to a new state (Florida). I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do, and spent six months going to the beach, and trying to figure life out. Finally, I had had enough. I had no money, and no future. Going back to school to get a graduate degree seemed to be my only choice.
That's when I saw an ad in the paper under "Law Enforcement" for "Correctional Probation Officers". The local community college had a six month academy that you paid to attend, and at the end of that academy you were virtually assured a job in law enforcement. A four year degree was the only requirement, and no physicals involving bad eyes were part of the deal. So, with my parents help, I signed up the next day.
The next six months were hard as I had a part time job at Builders Square (like a Home Depot) doing manual labor, and at night attending the academy. For the first time in my life, though, it seemed that I was on some kind of path with a purpose, and my spirits were good. The academy was preparing me for eventual placement on the street supervising felons during their probation. As the academy went forward this option seemed less and less appealing to me. The idea of going into the neighborhoods of violent felons just didn't seem like a good career. Just as my spirits started going down, though, I was saved by one class and one instructor towards the end of the academy.
I don't remember that instructor's name, but the day we had the class on Corrections I knew that prison was the place for me. I know that sounds strange. Let me explain. To be a street probation officer one must love a certain level of chaos because you are totally at the mercy of your probationer's actions. That chaos drives people like me crazy. I like a certain level of knowing what is coming at me every day. The street is not for people like me. Instead, the prison setting allows one to have a level of control that simply does not exist anywere else in law enforcement. While you may have 300 inmates on your caseload you generally know where they are. On the street, a probationer could be at home one day, and in another state the next
The first prison I visited was Brevard Correctional Institution (henceforth, abbreviated "C.I."); a Youthful Offender facility located in Cocoa Beach. I was used to youthful offenders growing up with a mother who worked as a teacher at a camp for troubled youths, and I myself had worked there for about a year. It didn't really prepare me for what we in the business call "going behind the fence" for the first time. When you first enter a prison, even a youthful offender camp, your mental state changes instantly (if it doesn't, you're either comatose or lying). Fear creeps into your body, and it suddenly becomes difficult to move without looking behind you. You start thinking that some rabid inmate is going to run up and shank (prison slang for "stab") you. Of course, these perceptions come from our media where prisons are portrayed as concentration camps that even the Nazis would have been proud to call their own.
On the contrary, this first visit behind the fence for me was a pleasant experience. The staff was professional, and the inmates courteous. Everything out of their mouths was "Yes, sir" or "No, sir". The Correctional Probation Officers inside the fence (known as Classification Officers by those on the inside) were a grizzled and varied lot. The men were far older than me, and had worked in various other areas of law enforcement and/or the military. All of a sudden, my instructor said to another officer, "Well, it's time to roll the bones." What the heck did that mean? I soon found out.
That day was Disciplinary Report (henceforth, known as "DR") Court day. Every prison in Florida has court at least twice a week. Just like in society, rules are broken. These rules can be as simple as disobeying a verbal order all the way up to sexual battery or attempted murder. Each one of these infractions will cause a DR to be written by a staff member, and a hearing held to determine the inmates guilt or innocence. Now, here we come to meaning of "rolling the bones".
You see, in prison your guilty until proven innocent. I don't care what the rules say, that's just the way it is. Prisons simply won't function unless staff have that kind of power over inmates. By "rolling the bones" the staff were telling me that no one is ever innocent, and the bones always turn up guilty for the convict. To put it more succintly, one of my former military-based classification officers came up with saying, "Bring the guilty bastard in". It's a rough way of doing things, but it works. In prison, you always go with what works.
But back then all this was new and quite a shock. I saw these tough kids being brought before us in chains begging for mercy (though some said nothing at all), and none was given. The punishments were hard. For the aformentioned "Disobeying a Verbal Order" the punishment was usually 30 days confinement and/or 60 days loss of gain time (or good time; meaning time added to your sentence; I'll explain that in more detail later). In Youthful Offender camps you could actually sentence inmates to work on a punishment detail cleaning out toilets or pushing around gravel. Fun.
Most of these "court" hearings lasted about ten minutes, and after about an hour all the "trials" were conducted, and, indeed, all the "bastards" were guilty. I can't tell you that some small part of me loved what just happened. There were no ambiguities. There was no moralizing. Justice was served on a cold platter, and I thought how great that system worked, and how good triumphs over evil. It can lead one to a God-complex in a hurry. Only much later in my years didt I start to see how this system can really be abused, but those revelations are for a different day.
Soon after my visit to Brevard C.I. I graduated the academy, took my state exam, and started applying for Classification Officer positions at various facilities. Two gave me an interview. The first was Polk C.I., a maximum-security prison located in the farmland around Orlando. I did not like this place at all; it was old, and reminded me of being thrown back in time to the Civil War. The interview itself was even worse; apparently, the staff had already selected the person they wanted to hire, and my interview was just a formality to comply with the hiring process. I'm glad I didn't get the job.
The second prison was Charlotte C.I. located in a swamp halfway between North Fort Myers and Punta Gorda just off of I-75 (no exit for the prison exists off of I-75, for obvious reasons). The facility itself was maximum security like Polk, but unlike Polk, Charlotte was a modern institution that had only been open for a little over a decade. The interview was the polar opposite of Polk; I was welcomed with open arms, and got the distinct impression I got the job. A few days later, I received the offer of employment, and on November 30th, 1998 I began my new life as a Classification Officer. My world would never be the same.
To be continued...
I have debated writing about this subject for a long time. Every time I start I just can't do it. The hard things are always that way. Usually, writing comes as easy to me as breathing, but this subject is almost too tough. Too emotional. Too scary. And in some ways, just unspeakable. But I think it's high past time that I actually try to get down on paper what I think about every day; what dominates my thoughts, and eats away at a good night's sleep descending all too often into nightmares. I must warn you up front that this series of posts will not be for the faint of heart. A subject as dark as the one I am about to write is filled with half-truths, bald faced lies, and total misunderstandings. To hear the truth, which I intend to convey lest this whole exercise be in vain, is not comfortable or pleasant. If dark matters offend your sensibilities I suggest you tune out. All others, climb aboard a train headed into a terrifying world.
This story begins in 1996 when I was still in college in Missouri. Back then, I was fully confident that I was heading to the FBI. I had good grades, and my major, Criminal Justice, had prepared me for entry into the elite law enforcement agency in the country. Ever since the classic film, Silence of the Lambs, I had wanted to go find the next Hannibal Lecter. But as with most such dreams this one ended in disappointment. Due to an eye condition I couldn't pass the FBI's rigorous physical exam.
So, what is one to do when their childhood dream ends before it even starts? Well, for me, I spent the next year and a half wandering between a job I hated (small loan origination and collection), and moving to a new state (Florida). I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do, and spent six months going to the beach, and trying to figure life out. Finally, I had had enough. I had no money, and no future. Going back to school to get a graduate degree seemed to be my only choice.
That's when I saw an ad in the paper under "Law Enforcement" for "Correctional Probation Officers". The local community college had a six month academy that you paid to attend, and at the end of that academy you were virtually assured a job in law enforcement. A four year degree was the only requirement, and no physicals involving bad eyes were part of the deal. So, with my parents help, I signed up the next day.
The next six months were hard as I had a part time job at Builders Square (like a Home Depot) doing manual labor, and at night attending the academy. For the first time in my life, though, it seemed that I was on some kind of path with a purpose, and my spirits were good. The academy was preparing me for eventual placement on the street supervising felons during their probation. As the academy went forward this option seemed less and less appealing to me. The idea of going into the neighborhoods of violent felons just didn't seem like a good career. Just as my spirits started going down, though, I was saved by one class and one instructor towards the end of the academy.
I don't remember that instructor's name, but the day we had the class on Corrections I knew that prison was the place for me. I know that sounds strange. Let me explain. To be a street probation officer one must love a certain level of chaos because you are totally at the mercy of your probationer's actions. That chaos drives people like me crazy. I like a certain level of knowing what is coming at me every day. The street is not for people like me. Instead, the prison setting allows one to have a level of control that simply does not exist anywere else in law enforcement. While you may have 300 inmates on your caseload you generally know where they are. On the street, a probationer could be at home one day, and in another state the next
The first prison I visited was Brevard Correctional Institution (henceforth, abbreviated "C.I."); a Youthful Offender facility located in Cocoa Beach. I was used to youthful offenders growing up with a mother who worked as a teacher at a camp for troubled youths, and I myself had worked there for about a year. It didn't really prepare me for what we in the business call "going behind the fence" for the first time. When you first enter a prison, even a youthful offender camp, your mental state changes instantly (if it doesn't, you're either comatose or lying). Fear creeps into your body, and it suddenly becomes difficult to move without looking behind you. You start thinking that some rabid inmate is going to run up and shank (prison slang for "stab") you. Of course, these perceptions come from our media where prisons are portrayed as concentration camps that even the Nazis would have been proud to call their own.
On the contrary, this first visit behind the fence for me was a pleasant experience. The staff was professional, and the inmates courteous. Everything out of their mouths was "Yes, sir" or "No, sir". The Correctional Probation Officers inside the fence (known as Classification Officers by those on the inside) were a grizzled and varied lot. The men were far older than me, and had worked in various other areas of law enforcement and/or the military. All of a sudden, my instructor said to another officer, "Well, it's time to roll the bones." What the heck did that mean? I soon found out.
That day was Disciplinary Report (henceforth, known as "DR") Court day. Every prison in Florida has court at least twice a week. Just like in society, rules are broken. These rules can be as simple as disobeying a verbal order all the way up to sexual battery or attempted murder. Each one of these infractions will cause a DR to be written by a staff member, and a hearing held to determine the inmates guilt or innocence. Now, here we come to meaning of "rolling the bones".
You see, in prison your guilty until proven innocent. I don't care what the rules say, that's just the way it is. Prisons simply won't function unless staff have that kind of power over inmates. By "rolling the bones" the staff were telling me that no one is ever innocent, and the bones always turn up guilty for the convict. To put it more succintly, one of my former military-based classification officers came up with saying, "Bring the guilty bastard in". It's a rough way of doing things, but it works. In prison, you always go with what works.
But back then all this was new and quite a shock. I saw these tough kids being brought before us in chains begging for mercy (though some said nothing at all), and none was given. The punishments were hard. For the aformentioned "Disobeying a Verbal Order" the punishment was usually 30 days confinement and/or 60 days loss of gain time (or good time; meaning time added to your sentence; I'll explain that in more detail later). In Youthful Offender camps you could actually sentence inmates to work on a punishment detail cleaning out toilets or pushing around gravel. Fun.
Most of these "court" hearings lasted about ten minutes, and after about an hour all the "trials" were conducted, and, indeed, all the "bastards" were guilty. I can't tell you that some small part of me loved what just happened. There were no ambiguities. There was no moralizing. Justice was served on a cold platter, and I thought how great that system worked, and how good triumphs over evil. It can lead one to a God-complex in a hurry. Only much later in my years didt I start to see how this system can really be abused, but those revelations are for a different day.
Soon after my visit to Brevard C.I. I graduated the academy, took my state exam, and started applying for Classification Officer positions at various facilities. Two gave me an interview. The first was Polk C.I., a maximum-security prison located in the farmland around Orlando. I did not like this place at all; it was old, and reminded me of being thrown back in time to the Civil War. The interview itself was even worse; apparently, the staff had already selected the person they wanted to hire, and my interview was just a formality to comply with the hiring process. I'm glad I didn't get the job.
The second prison was Charlotte C.I. located in a swamp halfway between North Fort Myers and Punta Gorda just off of I-75 (no exit for the prison exists off of I-75, for obvious reasons). The facility itself was maximum security like Polk, but unlike Polk, Charlotte was a modern institution that had only been open for a little over a decade. The interview was the polar opposite of Polk; I was welcomed with open arms, and got the distinct impression I got the job. A few days later, I received the offer of employment, and on November 30th, 1998 I began my new life as a Classification Officer. My world would never be the same.
To be continued...
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Post Six
Home Theater Madness Part Five: The Subwoofer (and Conclusion)
For my final entry into this series on home theater I will discuss my favorite part of the system: The Subwoofer. For guys, the subwoofer ("sub" for short) represents the end all-be all of home theater. For girls, usually it's simply tolerated with a frown (there are, of course, exceptions). The subwoofer handles the bass in your system, and something called LFE (Low Frequency Effects) in movies and shows that have this feature. The LFE represents the ".1" channel; it's not really a full range channel like the left, right, center, and surrounds, but it is the most important sound channel in home theater next to the center (which handles most dialogue).
To give you an idea of how important a good subwoofer is in a home theater take the movie trilogy "The Lord of the Rings". When you saw these movies in a commercial theater remember how thrilled you felt when all hell was breaking loose in the Mines of Moria, during the Siege of Helm's Deep, or during the Battle of Pelennor Fields? Most of that feeling was because theaters have multiple subwoofers producing copious amounts of LFE. While you don't need that kind of power in a home, you DO need at least one subwoofer to properly convey the director's intent in movies like "Lord of the Rings".
Being a very specialized speaker a subwoofer is very different from a traditional speaker design. Usually, subwoofers are boxes that can double as an end table with drivers ranging between 10 inches and 18 inches. Subwoofers generally weigh between 40lbs all the way up to over 100lbs. Needless to say, subwoofers can present an, um, challenge to decor conscious spouses. And don't think that I am recommending a one note flatulence box designed for rap music. A good subwoofer will blend seemlessly with your other speakers, and will only be heard when called on; good subwoofers are well-behaved beasts.
Unlike other loudspeakers most subwoofers are powered; practically speaking, this feature means all you need to do is plug the subwoofer into the subwoofer/LFE input of an A/V receiver. After that, the receiver will calibrate the subwoofer using Audyssey (discussed in a previous post), or some other automatic set-up system. There are other settings on a sub (phase being the most important), but none are more important than sub location. In most situations, the best place for a sub is in a corner of the room. What this will allow is something called "corner loading' which can produce more bass. In no way is this option always the best, and experimintation is always required. Even experienced home theater enthusiasts have trouble with sub location, and in many cases your stuck putting the sub "there" based on other factors. Again, the automatic setup of a receiver really is a Godsend here.
In the end, a subwoofer is essential to a satisfying home theater expierence. Without the low end of the soundtrack you're missing half of the movie, in my opinion. Below are couple of excellent, affordable options that will fit the bill.
Emotiva Ultra Sub 10 (right now: $289)
http://www.emotiva.com/
This internet direct company produces high-value components, and your not likely to do better at this price point.
Rythmik Audio F12 ($799)
http://www.rythmikaudio.com/
Yes, it's a lot of money. It's also the last subwoofer you will ever buy. I've had a bunch of subs in my time, and none are better (especially on music) anywhere near this price. Honestly, this subwoofer competes with subs up to two times it's price. Awesome!
Concluding Thoughts
So, there you have my mind poured out on silicon concerning the subject of home theater. I will only conclude with this parting word of advice. Don't spend your last dime on this hobby. Home Theater can become an addiction, and it can lead to unfortunate financial decisions. Buy components right the first time, and you will save yourself a ton of money. Trying to keep up with advances in technology is getting harder and harder every year as electronic manufacturers try to come up with some new bell and whistle to justify another $3,000 purchase (the latest being 3D). It's not worth it. Buy a high-quaility, value componenent, and then stop looking for a couple of years.
Still, this hobby IS worth it if you love movies as much as me. Considering it can cost a family of three anywhere between $30-$50 to go see a first-run movie in a good commercial theater the cost of home theater quickly becomes justified over the long haul. And you will never have to deal with annoying people ever again (at least not by choice).
Happy Movie Watching!
For my final entry into this series on home theater I will discuss my favorite part of the system: The Subwoofer. For guys, the subwoofer ("sub" for short) represents the end all-be all of home theater. For girls, usually it's simply tolerated with a frown (there are, of course, exceptions). The subwoofer handles the bass in your system, and something called LFE (Low Frequency Effects) in movies and shows that have this feature. The LFE represents the ".1" channel; it's not really a full range channel like the left, right, center, and surrounds, but it is the most important sound channel in home theater next to the center (which handles most dialogue).
To give you an idea of how important a good subwoofer is in a home theater take the movie trilogy "The Lord of the Rings". When you saw these movies in a commercial theater remember how thrilled you felt when all hell was breaking loose in the Mines of Moria, during the Siege of Helm's Deep, or during the Battle of Pelennor Fields? Most of that feeling was because theaters have multiple subwoofers producing copious amounts of LFE. While you don't need that kind of power in a home, you DO need at least one subwoofer to properly convey the director's intent in movies like "Lord of the Rings".
Being a very specialized speaker a subwoofer is very different from a traditional speaker design. Usually, subwoofers are boxes that can double as an end table with drivers ranging between 10 inches and 18 inches. Subwoofers generally weigh between 40lbs all the way up to over 100lbs. Needless to say, subwoofers can present an, um, challenge to decor conscious spouses. And don't think that I am recommending a one note flatulence box designed for rap music. A good subwoofer will blend seemlessly with your other speakers, and will only be heard when called on; good subwoofers are well-behaved beasts.
Unlike other loudspeakers most subwoofers are powered; practically speaking, this feature means all you need to do is plug the subwoofer into the subwoofer/LFE input of an A/V receiver. After that, the receiver will calibrate the subwoofer using Audyssey (discussed in a previous post), or some other automatic set-up system. There are other settings on a sub (phase being the most important), but none are more important than sub location. In most situations, the best place for a sub is in a corner of the room. What this will allow is something called "corner loading' which can produce more bass. In no way is this option always the best, and experimintation is always required. Even experienced home theater enthusiasts have trouble with sub location, and in many cases your stuck putting the sub "there" based on other factors. Again, the automatic setup of a receiver really is a Godsend here.
In the end, a subwoofer is essential to a satisfying home theater expierence. Without the low end of the soundtrack you're missing half of the movie, in my opinion. Below are couple of excellent, affordable options that will fit the bill.
Emotiva Ultra Sub 10 (right now: $289)
http://www.emotiva.com/
This internet direct company produces high-value components, and your not likely to do better at this price point.
Rythmik Audio F12 ($799)
http://www.rythmikaudio.com/
Yes, it's a lot of money. It's also the last subwoofer you will ever buy. I've had a bunch of subs in my time, and none are better (especially on music) anywhere near this price. Honestly, this subwoofer competes with subs up to two times it's price. Awesome!
Concluding Thoughts
So, there you have my mind poured out on silicon concerning the subject of home theater. I will only conclude with this parting word of advice. Don't spend your last dime on this hobby. Home Theater can become an addiction, and it can lead to unfortunate financial decisions. Buy components right the first time, and you will save yourself a ton of money. Trying to keep up with advances in technology is getting harder and harder every year as electronic manufacturers try to come up with some new bell and whistle to justify another $3,000 purchase (the latest being 3D). It's not worth it. Buy a high-quaility, value componenent, and then stop looking for a couple of years.
Still, this hobby IS worth it if you love movies as much as me. Considering it can cost a family of three anywhere between $30-$50 to go see a first-run movie in a good commercial theater the cost of home theater quickly becomes justified over the long haul. And you will never have to deal with annoying people ever again (at least not by choice).
Happy Movie Watching!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Post Five
Home Theater Madness Part 4: The Receiver
In past posts I have discussed what I consider the most important aspects of a good home theater system: The Display, The Speakers, and The Source. Now, I will move into what might be considered the "brain" of the system; The Receiver. The Receiver is responsible for controlling all aspects of a home theater. It is both a component selector, audio decoder, and even a video scaler all built into a heavy metal chassis. In many ways the modern home theater receiver is a powerful computer designed as the multi-media hub. A sort of a modern day "all roads lead to Rome" component as every single part of the home theater gets plugged into The Receiver.
A receiver is basically composed of two parts. The first is the amplifier section. A modern home theater receiver has amplification for at least five channels (left front, center, right front, left surround, right surround), and can have up to nine channels (though seven channels has become the most common; adding two channels for back left and right surround). I would recommend a seven channel receiver even if your only going to use five channels. Why? It will give you room to expand in the future. Always plan ahead in this hobby. You can also use the extra two channels to bi-amp your front speakers (if they so allow) which can lead to improved sound.
The second part of the receiver is it's "brain"; the surround/video processor. Nearly all home theater receivers today have two powerful computer chips: the surround processor and the video processor. The surround processor provides decoding for all the surround formats that exist on a source disc. For example, a Blu Ray movie mastered using DTS HD-Master Audio (a superior high resolution surround sound format) may only be played through your system if your receiver can decode that format. Further, each receiver usually comes with many "matrixed" surround modes (the most common being Dolby Pro Logic II or IIx) which allows you to listen to your music using all of your speakers.
The second processor is for video scaling. When you watch television through your system your receiver can be set to "upscale" the signal to the displays native resolution. As many televisions have poor internal scalers this can be an easy way to upgrade a poor signal. While you won't see miracles here the performance difference a good video scaler can make can be profound on poor source material. To put this matter into perspective consider that seperate video scalers in $1,000 receivers today would cost, by themselves, at least $10,000 in the 1990's.
What other things should you consider when purchasing a receiver? Probably the most important thing to consider is ease of use. I would never recommend a receiver without an on screen display. Many cheap receivers do not have this feature, and it can make setting up a complicated component like a receiver a nightmare even for experienced users like me. A good on screen display can really make using your system easy to set up and change, and is absolutely a necessity for novices.
The other main thing no modern receiver should be without is room correction software. Almost all modern receivers have some form of room correction. Why? Well, our rooms (unless your an extremely lucky person who has a purposefully built home theater from the ground up) acoustically stink. Room correction software (the most common is from a company called Audyssey) will allow the receiver to compensate for these room imperfections. It can drastically improve the sound of your system if you have an acoustically bad room (believe me, you probably do).
Here are two receivers I would recommend without hesitation. This company has a long track record of providing outstanding bang for the buck with rock-solid reliability. My first receiver was a Denon, and it's still going strong after over 10 years of constant use (and abuse).
Denon AVR 1611 (Street Price: $400)
It doesn't get any better than this at the entry level.
Denon AVR 2311Ci (Street Price: $850)
A major step up in every way from the 1611; more power and more inputs. Will serve you well for many years.
Next up is my final installment in the Home Theater Madness series: The Subwoofer
In past posts I have discussed what I consider the most important aspects of a good home theater system: The Display, The Speakers, and The Source. Now, I will move into what might be considered the "brain" of the system; The Receiver. The Receiver is responsible for controlling all aspects of a home theater. It is both a component selector, audio decoder, and even a video scaler all built into a heavy metal chassis. In many ways the modern home theater receiver is a powerful computer designed as the multi-media hub. A sort of a modern day "all roads lead to Rome" component as every single part of the home theater gets plugged into The Receiver.
The Appian Way in Italy
A receiver is basically composed of two parts. The first is the amplifier section. A modern home theater receiver has amplification for at least five channels (left front, center, right front, left surround, right surround), and can have up to nine channels (though seven channels has become the most common; adding two channels for back left and right surround). I would recommend a seven channel receiver even if your only going to use five channels. Why? It will give you room to expand in the future. Always plan ahead in this hobby. You can also use the extra two channels to bi-amp your front speakers (if they so allow) which can lead to improved sound.
The second part of the receiver is it's "brain"; the surround/video processor. Nearly all home theater receivers today have two powerful computer chips: the surround processor and the video processor. The surround processor provides decoding for all the surround formats that exist on a source disc. For example, a Blu Ray movie mastered using DTS HD-Master Audio (a superior high resolution surround sound format) may only be played through your system if your receiver can decode that format. Further, each receiver usually comes with many "matrixed" surround modes (the most common being Dolby Pro Logic II or IIx) which allows you to listen to your music using all of your speakers.
The second processor is for video scaling. When you watch television through your system your receiver can be set to "upscale" the signal to the displays native resolution. As many televisions have poor internal scalers this can be an easy way to upgrade a poor signal. While you won't see miracles here the performance difference a good video scaler can make can be profound on poor source material. To put this matter into perspective consider that seperate video scalers in $1,000 receivers today would cost, by themselves, at least $10,000 in the 1990's.
Faroudja 5000 Video Scaler (top): $25k in 2000
What other things should you consider when purchasing a receiver? Probably the most important thing to consider is ease of use. I would never recommend a receiver without an on screen display. Many cheap receivers do not have this feature, and it can make setting up a complicated component like a receiver a nightmare even for experienced users like me. A good on screen display can really make using your system easy to set up and change, and is absolutely a necessity for novices.
The other main thing no modern receiver should be without is room correction software. Almost all modern receivers have some form of room correction. Why? Well, our rooms (unless your an extremely lucky person who has a purposefully built home theater from the ground up) acoustically stink. Room correction software (the most common is from a company called Audyssey) will allow the receiver to compensate for these room imperfections. It can drastically improve the sound of your system if you have an acoustically bad room (believe me, you probably do).
Here are two receivers I would recommend without hesitation. This company has a long track record of providing outstanding bang for the buck with rock-solid reliability. My first receiver was a Denon, and it's still going strong after over 10 years of constant use (and abuse).
Denon AVR-1611
Denon AVR 1611 (Street Price: $400)
It doesn't get any better than this at the entry level.
Denon AVR-2311Ci
Denon AVR 2311Ci (Street Price: $850)
A major step up in every way from the 1611; more power and more inputs. Will serve you well for many years.
Next up is my final installment in the Home Theater Madness series: The Subwoofer
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Post Four
Home Theater Madness Part Three: The Source
In previous posts I have addressed what I consider to be the two most important components of a home theater. For video, we have the display, and for audio we have the speakers. Today, I will go back to video and discuss The Source. The Source, in additon to being an excellent book by James Michener, is an often overlooked component of home theater, but one I put very high on the list. There are two parts to The Source: hardware and software. Let's start with hardware.
Source hardware, like most things in this hobby, has evolved rapidly over the years. In the 1980's, things really took off with widespread consumer adoption of the VCR (Video Cassette Recorder). However, for home theater, the VCR didn't really do much; it's resolution was poor, and the quality of the transfer (the process by which the studio's engineers move film to video) was universally bad. Hobbyists needed something better, and the electronic companies responded with one of the biggest failures in the history of the electronics industry; Laserdisc. Laserdisc, while a vast improvement over the VCR, was never accepted by the public because it was not a recordable format and was very expensive. In many ways, Laserdisc was simply ahead of it's time, and it was quickly relegated to a niche product for hobbyists.
Every hobby has a watershed moment; a time where the hobby either explodes or fizzles. For home theater, that moment was 1997, and the event was the introduction of the DVD player. DVD players did more than anything to spread the concept of home theater to the masses. At first, the players were somewhat expensive (though no more than a VCR in early 1980's), and like Laserdisc, the players could not record anything. In time, though, both of these issues were fixed. A good DVD player could be had for about $200.00 by the early 2000's, and the move to DVR's (Digital Video Recorders) by the cable and satellite industry suddenly did away with the need for recordable hardware in the consumers audio/video system.
Now, we have moved through the looking glass with the Blu-Ray disc player. Everyone in the hobby wanted a high-definition version of the DVD, and after a bitter format war which almost killed the idea Sony's Blu-Ray won widespread consumer adoption as the HD format to rule them all. Players are finally down into that magical $200 price bracket, and with options like streaming movies via Netflix as de rigueur on most new players Blu-Ray is here to stay.
Each one of these players would be useless without software, and this area, too, has seen vast changes over the years. VHS (Video Home System) tapes, the media for the VCR, were a godsend for the masses as they could now record their favorite shows and movies. As I mentioned before, though, the home theater hobbyist was left pretty much dissappointed by VHS. VHS did make a last stand offering high definition video before anyone else with JVC's D-VHS format, but it was never accepted by anyone outside of hardcore enthusiasts.
Laserdisc media was the main upgrade available to most hobbyists who wanted something better than VHS, and it did have some appeal. Laserdiscs were actual discs (like a CD; only as large as an old record), and as such could store a lot more information than a typical VHS tape. The video and audio were much improved over VHS, but again, problems with price and marketing pretty much killed the format.
DVD media, was simply a revelation. For the first time, hobbyists had a format that needed very little apologies in price or performance. Many DVD's were mastered to amazing standards (the film The Fifth Element was a standard setter here), and one could really believe they were in a movie theater with the quality presented on the best discs. Still, DVD was limited to a resolution of 480i (720 x 480 interlaced) which for really big screens was just not resolved enough.
Enter the high definition media world of HD-DVD and Blu-Ray discs. In 2008, Toshiba and Sony entered an epic war for the replacement of DVD. Since the advent of VHS, Toshiba had held the crown as King of Media as Toshiba was the purveyor of both VHS and DVD. Consequently, every manufacturer paid a small royalty to Toshiba in order to make their machines. Sony was determined not to let Toshiba win the HD war, and squared off with Toshiba's HD-DVD with the it's competing Blu-Ray disc. A war ensued with HD-DVD coming to market first, and for a time it appeared Sony would lose again. However, Sony had an ace in the hole this time around. All of the big film studios were firmly behind Blu-Ray (over concerns about copyright protection), and once media started hitting the market in large numbers HD-DVD was doomed.
Blu-Ray is now the de facto standard for home theater media. At a resolution of 1080p (1980 x 1080 progressive) Blu Ray media allows the viewer to see a film in the home pretty much the same way as it was presented in the theater. Blu-Ray is simply a marvel of modern technology, and unlike Laserdiscs, has not been relegated to niche status. Blu-Ray movies cost between $10 and $25.00, and are worth every penny for the performance you will receive in return.
The only other source worth discussing from a home theater standpoint is the HD-DVR. Recently, cable and satellite companies have both gone full bore with HD programming. This development is both good and bad; while I love the number of new HD channels the tradeoff is a reduction in resolution. Can't have your cake, and eat it, too. Still, I love being able to record football games in high definition and fast forwarding through commercials.
Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the company Netflix. In the past, one had to go to your local Blockbuster (or equivalent) if you wanted to rent a movie. Not anymore. Netflix is an awesome alternative way for you to get your discs in the mail, and return them at your convienence (no late fees). Instead of having to buy Blu Ray discs of movies I will watch only once I can now watch these one-timers for a very reasonable cost per month. Even entire television series in HD are available through Netflix. I'm not sure they have every movie and television program ever made, but it's pretty darn close.
Recommended Player:
Panasonic DMP-BD85K (available at Best Buy for $230)
Panasonic made the best mass market DVD players for years, and their Blu Ray players have followed in that tradition. This Internet-capable player can also stream Netflix movies; a huge plus. A no-brainer at this price.
Next, I will discuss the heart of the audio system: The Receiver.
In previous posts I have addressed what I consider to be the two most important components of a home theater. For video, we have the display, and for audio we have the speakers. Today, I will go back to video and discuss The Source. The Source, in additon to being an excellent book by James Michener, is an often overlooked component of home theater, but one I put very high on the list. There are two parts to The Source: hardware and software. Let's start with hardware.
Another "Source": Read it
Source hardware, like most things in this hobby, has evolved rapidly over the years. In the 1980's, things really took off with widespread consumer adoption of the VCR (Video Cassette Recorder). However, for home theater, the VCR didn't really do much; it's resolution was poor, and the quality of the transfer (the process by which the studio's engineers move film to video) was universally bad. Hobbyists needed something better, and the electronic companies responded with one of the biggest failures in the history of the electronics industry; Laserdisc. Laserdisc, while a vast improvement over the VCR, was never accepted by the public because it was not a recordable format and was very expensive. In many ways, Laserdisc was simply ahead of it's time, and it was quickly relegated to a niche product for hobbyists.
1980's: RCA VCR
Every hobby has a watershed moment; a time where the hobby either explodes or fizzles. For home theater, that moment was 1997, and the event was the introduction of the DVD player. DVD players did more than anything to spread the concept of home theater to the masses. At first, the players were somewhat expensive (though no more than a VCR in early 1980's), and like Laserdisc, the players could not record anything. In time, though, both of these issues were fixed. A good DVD player could be had for about $200.00 by the early 2000's, and the move to DVR's (Digital Video Recorders) by the cable and satellite industry suddenly did away with the need for recordable hardware in the consumers audio/video system.
1998: Pioneer DV-414 DVD Player
Now, we have moved through the looking glass with the Blu-Ray disc player. Everyone in the hobby wanted a high-definition version of the DVD, and after a bitter format war which almost killed the idea Sony's Blu-Ray won widespread consumer adoption as the HD format to rule them all. Players are finally down into that magical $200 price bracket, and with options like streaming movies via Netflix as de rigueur on most new players Blu-Ray is here to stay.
2009: Oppo BDP-83 Blu Ray Disc Player
Each one of these players would be useless without software, and this area, too, has seen vast changes over the years. VHS (Video Home System) tapes, the media for the VCR, were a godsend for the masses as they could now record their favorite shows and movies. As I mentioned before, though, the home theater hobbyist was left pretty much dissappointed by VHS. VHS did make a last stand offering high definition video before anyone else with JVC's D-VHS format, but it was never accepted by anyone outside of hardcore enthusiasts.
Laserdisc media was the main upgrade available to most hobbyists who wanted something better than VHS, and it did have some appeal. Laserdiscs were actual discs (like a CD; only as large as an old record), and as such could store a lot more information than a typical VHS tape. The video and audio were much improved over VHS, but again, problems with price and marketing pretty much killed the format.
Laserdisc (left) vs. DVD (right)
DVD media, was simply a revelation. For the first time, hobbyists had a format that needed very little apologies in price or performance. Many DVD's were mastered to amazing standards (the film The Fifth Element was a standard setter here), and one could really believe they were in a movie theater with the quality presented on the best discs. Still, DVD was limited to a resolution of 480i (720 x 480 interlaced) which for really big screens was just not resolved enough.
Enter the high definition media world of HD-DVD and Blu-Ray discs. In 2008, Toshiba and Sony entered an epic war for the replacement of DVD. Since the advent of VHS, Toshiba had held the crown as King of Media as Toshiba was the purveyor of both VHS and DVD. Consequently, every manufacturer paid a small royalty to Toshiba in order to make their machines. Sony was determined not to let Toshiba win the HD war, and squared off with Toshiba's HD-DVD with the it's competing Blu-Ray disc. A war ensued with HD-DVD coming to market first, and for a time it appeared Sony would lose again. However, Sony had an ace in the hole this time around. All of the big film studios were firmly behind Blu-Ray (over concerns about copyright protection), and once media started hitting the market in large numbers HD-DVD was doomed.
Blu-Ray is now the de facto standard for home theater media. At a resolution of 1080p (1980 x 1080 progressive) Blu Ray media allows the viewer to see a film in the home pretty much the same way as it was presented in the theater. Blu-Ray is simply a marvel of modern technology, and unlike Laserdiscs, has not been relegated to niche status. Blu-Ray movies cost between $10 and $25.00, and are worth every penny for the performance you will receive in return.
The only other source worth discussing from a home theater standpoint is the HD-DVR. Recently, cable and satellite companies have both gone full bore with HD programming. This development is both good and bad; while I love the number of new HD channels the tradeoff is a reduction in resolution. Can't have your cake, and eat it, too. Still, I love being able to record football games in high definition and fast forwarding through commercials.
Scientific Atlantic HD8300 HD-DVR
Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the company Netflix. In the past, one had to go to your local Blockbuster (or equivalent) if you wanted to rent a movie. Not anymore. Netflix is an awesome alternative way for you to get your discs in the mail, and return them at your convienence (no late fees). Instead of having to buy Blu Ray discs of movies I will watch only once I can now watch these one-timers for a very reasonable cost per month. Even entire television series in HD are available through Netflix. I'm not sure they have every movie and television program ever made, but it's pretty darn close.
Recommended Player:
Panasonic DMP-BD85K (available at Best Buy for $230)
Panasonic made the best mass market DVD players for years, and their Blu Ray players have followed in that tradition. This Internet-capable player can also stream Netflix movies; a huge plus. A no-brainer at this price.
Next, I will discuss the heart of the audio system: The Receiver.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Post Three
Home Theater Madness Part Two: Speakers
In my previous entry I gave a semi-enternaining introduction to my experience with the home theater hobby, and talked about the most important component: displays. Now, I would like to switch directions, and have at the most important audio component (other than your room, but I'm getting ahead of myself) which are your speakers.
Back in the days before home theater existed we basically were limited to two channels: right and left (and, perhaps, a subwoofer, but that was rare). These were the days when the audio world was ruled by a sinister bunch of goons called audiophiles. An audiophile is a person who is obsessed, to the point of insanity, with audio perfection. An example: it's common for audiophiles to spend thousands of dollars on the cables to their systems. Crazy, yes, but believe it or not, it's a normal thing in this bizzaro world.
Thankfully, audiophiles are being replaced with a more pragmatic bunch which I will call audio/video enthusiasts. I fall in this category. Basically, we want to get close to audio and video perfection, but we're willing to live in the real world much more than a pure audiophile. Audiophiles would consider me a heretic of the first order, but at least I an pay my bills and have a life. Also, until very recently, most audiophiles would never even consider the mere mention of home theater in their vocabulary. In their mind, any combination of audio and video in the same system is a recipe for disaster.
I'm not saying audiophiles don't have a point. If you have the money, then by all means have two systems: one optimized for audio and the other for video. That's an impossibility for most mortals, and it's high time that audiophiles get off their moral high horse, and realize that out of necessity the two must coexist. Which leads me to my discussion of speakers.
As I said above, we're basically saying goodbye to the world of two-channel audio. For the most part, you won't be missing much. Yes, some will argue that music recorded in two-channels must be replayed in two channels, but that just isn't relevant to the vast majority of system integration issues faced by a modern home theater. Two channel music reproduction, while important in theory, should not be the most important thing one considers when building a home theater. Instead, you must consider that you will be buying at least five speakers, and perhaps as many as nine! If you budget for expensive two channel speakers, then you will be sacrificing the other channels at their expense. That's not a good idea.
I would argue that in today's home theater your center and surround speakers are just as important as the left and right channels. Skimp on the center channel, and you will be regretting it. Nearly all the dialogue comes from that one speaker, and if the center channel cannot do a convincing midrange, then your home theater will suffer badly as a result. My main point here is that everything should be about balance. Don't buy your speakers haphazardly; make a plan of it. If all you can afford are the two channels, make sure the speaker line has center and surround speakers that will match up with them once funds allow. Rarely do you want to mix and match speakers from different companies as the timbral balance will be off. I have and do, but I have been at this a lot longer than most. It took tremendous trial and many errors to get it right. Don't go down that path. Get it right the first time.
An Example Balanced System:
Ok, here is a speaker system that I recommend to the beginner. It will allow you to buy two channels, and increase the number as funds allow. In the end, you will want a minimum of five speakers (left, right, center, left surround, and right surround).
Ascend Acoustics Sierra-1 Reference Monitor ($850/pair)
Ascend Acoustics Sierra-1 Center ($450)
Ascend Acoustics Sierra-1 Reference Monitor (used as surrounds) ($850/pair)
These can be purchased at: http://www.ascendacoustics.com/pages/products/speakers/SRM1/srm1.html
For entry level speakers it doesn't get much better than these. A bargain at this price; you will not have "speaker regret" with these beautiful monitors. Being internet direct, the company bypasses the middle man, and you save a ton of brick and mortar markup. Ascend let's you send the speakers back if you don't like them so there is really little risk.
Do I recommend floor-standing speakers? Sure. I own them. However, you may have a partner who won't like a 50" tall pair of speakers setting in their living room. If you have the space and funds, though, have at it.
An Example Balanced Floor Standing System:
EMP Impression E55Ti Towers ($800/pair)
EMP Impression E5Ci Center ($200)
EMP Impression E55Ti Towers (used as surrounds) ($800/pair)
These can be purchased at:
http://store.audioholics.com/product/2905/66334/emp-impression-e55ti-tower-speakers--red-burl-pair-
EMP is another Internet Direct speaker that will slaughter most brick and mortar speaker brands. I have read nothing but good things about them, and for the money they are impossible to beat at these prices.
So, I hope this gives you a good primer on speakers. Next, I will tackle the Source.
In my previous entry I gave a semi-enternaining introduction to my experience with the home theater hobby, and talked about the most important component: displays. Now, I would like to switch directions, and have at the most important audio component (other than your room, but I'm getting ahead of myself) which are your speakers.
Back in the days before home theater existed we basically were limited to two channels: right and left (and, perhaps, a subwoofer, but that was rare). These were the days when the audio world was ruled by a sinister bunch of goons called audiophiles. An audiophile is a person who is obsessed, to the point of insanity, with audio perfection. An example: it's common for audiophiles to spend thousands of dollars on the cables to their systems. Crazy, yes, but believe it or not, it's a normal thing in this bizzaro world.
JPS Aluminata Speaker Cable: An Audiophile Classic at $8,499.00 a Pop
Thankfully, audiophiles are being replaced with a more pragmatic bunch which I will call audio/video enthusiasts. I fall in this category. Basically, we want to get close to audio and video perfection, but we're willing to live in the real world much more than a pure audiophile. Audiophiles would consider me a heretic of the first order, but at least I an pay my bills and have a life. Also, until very recently, most audiophiles would never even consider the mere mention of home theater in their vocabulary. In their mind, any combination of audio and video in the same system is a recipe for disaster.
I'm not saying audiophiles don't have a point. If you have the money, then by all means have two systems: one optimized for audio and the other for video. That's an impossibility for most mortals, and it's high time that audiophiles get off their moral high horse, and realize that out of necessity the two must coexist. Which leads me to my discussion of speakers.
As I said above, we're basically saying goodbye to the world of two-channel audio. For the most part, you won't be missing much. Yes, some will argue that music recorded in two-channels must be replayed in two channels, but that just isn't relevant to the vast majority of system integration issues faced by a modern home theater. Two channel music reproduction, while important in theory, should not be the most important thing one considers when building a home theater. Instead, you must consider that you will be buying at least five speakers, and perhaps as many as nine! If you budget for expensive two channel speakers, then you will be sacrificing the other channels at their expense. That's not a good idea.
I would argue that in today's home theater your center and surround speakers are just as important as the left and right channels. Skimp on the center channel, and you will be regretting it. Nearly all the dialogue comes from that one speaker, and if the center channel cannot do a convincing midrange, then your home theater will suffer badly as a result. My main point here is that everything should be about balance. Don't buy your speakers haphazardly; make a plan of it. If all you can afford are the two channels, make sure the speaker line has center and surround speakers that will match up with them once funds allow. Rarely do you want to mix and match speakers from different companies as the timbral balance will be off. I have and do, but I have been at this a lot longer than most. It took tremendous trial and many errors to get it right. Don't go down that path. Get it right the first time.
An Example Balanced System:
Ok, here is a speaker system that I recommend to the beginner. It will allow you to buy two channels, and increase the number as funds allow. In the end, you will want a minimum of five speakers (left, right, center, left surround, and right surround).
Ascend Acoustics Sierra-1 Reference Monitor ($850/pair)
Ascend Acoustics Sierra-1 Center ($450)
Ascend Acoustics Sierra-1 Reference Monitor (used as surrounds) ($850/pair)
These can be purchased at: http://www.ascendacoustics.com/pages/products/speakers/SRM1/srm1.html
For entry level speakers it doesn't get much better than these. A bargain at this price; you will not have "speaker regret" with these beautiful monitors. Being internet direct, the company bypasses the middle man, and you save a ton of brick and mortar markup. Ascend let's you send the speakers back if you don't like them so there is really little risk.
Do I recommend floor-standing speakers? Sure. I own them. However, you may have a partner who won't like a 50" tall pair of speakers setting in their living room. If you have the space and funds, though, have at it.
An Example Balanced Floor Standing System:
EMP Impression E55Ti Towers ($800/pair)
EMP Impression E5Ci Center ($200)
EMP Impression E55Ti Towers (used as surrounds) ($800/pair)
These can be purchased at:
http://store.audioholics.com/product/2905/66334/emp-impression-e55ti-tower-speakers--red-burl-pair-
EMP is another Internet Direct speaker that will slaughter most brick and mortar speaker brands. I have read nothing but good things about them, and for the money they are impossible to beat at these prices.
So, I hope this gives you a good primer on speakers. Next, I will tackle the Source.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Post Two
Home Theater Madness
I'm a big fan of Michael J. Nelson (of Mystery Science Theater 3000 fame). His wit and sardonic writing style is right up there with the best ever. Now, among other things, he writes a back page editorial for a magazine called Home Theater. His articles are always a fun read, and he makes this crazy hobby fun for me even though I have been at it for almost 15 years. And believe me, that's no easy feat. For home theater is a hobby that is both glory and curse all in one. I do not exagerate: it's power and allure has been known to drive it's disciples to such depravity as sacrificing the first born...well I exagerrate...only the second born.
So, if your still interested in the home theater hobby after reading the above prose, then I both feel sorry for you and welcome you as brother and sister. Unlike me, though, you have the benefit of entering this hobby at a time when it will not cost you an arm and a leg...just the arm (ha).
Seriously, though. This hobby's cost is at an all-time low and bang-for-your-buck is out of this world. It's still easy to make mistakes, though. The Internet is full of information overload for the beginner, and I intend by this article to get you out of the muck, and start on dry land. And for God's sake don't go to Best Buy for advice. You know more than they do.
Some things that I must convey to you before I begin:
You have a signficant other who will tolerate this hobby. I can't stress this point enough. The last thing you wil ever do is bring home a 60" LED-LCD flat screen television; I mean it; it will be the last thing you ever do. So, get permission, or go home. It's not worth your life or your relationship.
You have space to dedicate to a theater. It can be a living room, but again, prior appoval from the other person is a necessity. Don't expect to bring home a dual 18" subwoofer that weighs more than Jets coach Rex Ryan, and expect to see the dawn.
You must have patience. All this pretty technology is amazing, and believe it or not has become less complicated from the early days where one needed arcane degrees in Quantum Mechanics. But it still requires a healthy dose of valium to complete a typical upgrade. Remember, keep all sharp objects locked away, and for Heaven's sake no firearms within easy reach. It's just not worth it.
And finally, you must be humble. You don't have all the answers. Believe you me, if you think your problem is unique your dead wrong. The Internet has made it possible to have access to geniuses, who, for a small price, may or may not help you. These home theater Gods are fickle, and have the power to fry your electrical grid for the next hundred years. So be nice to them, and your problems suddenly will seem much smaller.
Now, after all this, you still want a home theater? Your my kind of person.
Over the next few posts I will address one component of home theater in all the detail my experience can muster. I hope you enjoy the ride.
Component One: The Display
The display is the most important part of a home theater. Get it wrong, and no matter how good the other components are the end experience will be disappointing. For home theater, the minimum screen size is 50 inches diagonal. Your screen size should be dictated by your viewing distance and the resolution of the source material. With the advent of HD sources we can now sit much closer to the screen than in the good ol' days of DVD and analog cable.
First, let's take a look at resolution. You do not want to consider any display that has a resolution less than 1280 x 720 (usually abbreviated 720p). Ideally, you will want a full 1980 x 1080 display (1080p) which is the resolution of nearly all Blu Ray discs. Cable and satellite, while both offering a myriad of HD programming, do not broadcast in 1080p; the bandwith is simply too great for even fiber-optic cables. Instead, their broadcasting is either done in 720p or 1080i (or interlaced; slightly less pure than a true 1080p source).
Next comes viewing distance. In the old days, we had to sit a minimum of two times screen width in order to not see all the nasty artificats in the transfer that would simply ruin your viewing experience. Now, with HD sources, we can safely go to as little as 1.2 times screen width (I prefer 1.5, but I'm old school). A 50 inch diagonal display has a screen width of 44 inches. So, your minimum viewing distance for HD sources would be about 6 feet. Practically speaking, that distance can be a bit close . You can move back from that distance to say, 8 feet, but understand that any further, and you likely will want a bigger display. In displays, as with other things, size matters.
A display less than 50 inches diagonal would be an acceptable alternative. In bedrooms, I think such a size is fine. However, for the living room or dedicated space you will want to go bigger. And I am not talking about, as the English would say, a bigger "tele" anymore. Now, we are moving into what home theater is all about: tbe projector and screen.
In the old days (20 years ago is ancient history in this hobby) one could shell out $200,000 for a 9" CRT projector with line doubler. Even a budget CRT projector was north of ten grand, and it would not do HD so it wasn't even future proof. Not to mention these beasts were as heavy as a tank, and had to be professionally cared for and installed (unless you were a techie Bob Villa). In short, they were the domain of the truly mad, or ultra rich. Or both. Also, CRT projectors were notoriously dim, and could only be viewed in a bat cave.
The Beast From Italy: Vidikron Vision One 9" CRT Projector
Now, we have no need to spend such princely sums on a projector. A good 1080p LCD based model will run you about $1,500.00, and a good 92 inch diagonal screen about $500.00. So, for the cost of a good 50 inch to 55 inch display you can have a projector that in theatrical impact will simply slaughter the television. Another great thing about a modern projector is that you don't have to have it professionally installed. I have mine on a cabinet, and it took about a half hour to connect and focus the lens. However, if you wish to ceiling mount your projector you need to be handy, or hire a professional. The downside to projectors? Not much, other than bulb replacement which can run you about $300 every 2000 hours.
Finally, the most important aspect to displays has nothing to do with the physical display itself. It's all about the settings, dude. You ever wonder why displays in a Best Buy or Wal-Mart look so bright and pop like a fireworks show? It's because these displays are in a bright showroom, and in order to sell a display the employees generally max all of the picture settings out to obscene levels. The result is a bright, but totally inaccurate picture.
The goal of the video side of home theater is to calibrate the display to get as close to a reference standard as possible. There are many standards that apply, but the three most important factors are color temperture, color accuracy, and contrast. How does one accurately set your picture controls? Get a calibration disc like Digital Video Essentials or the new disc from Spears and Munsil. These discs are a God-send to newbies and veterans alike. They will walk you through step-by-step on how to set each picture setting accurately. You will be amazed at the results.
I will now make recommendations for displays, and provide you with links that I have indispensable in my journey.
Display Recommendations
Panasonic 50" Plasma Display
Plasmas in the 50 inch to 54 inch range. Usually these displays street price for around $1,000.00 and are excellent entry level movie watching displays. They are not as bright as similar priced LCD's, but make up for it by providing superior black levels and better off-axis viewing. In my opinioin, there is no better bang for your buck in home theater at the entry level.
Sony 55" LED-LCD Display
LED-LCD's in the 55 inch range. At around $2,000 street price these displays are the top dog for television right now. Spending more on a bigger screen is a waste, in my opinion, and you really should go the projector/screen route at that point. LED-LCD's blacks are as good as a plasma display, and they have brightness to spare. Wonderful displays and they keep coming down in price every year.
Epson 8100 1080p LCD Projector
LCD 1080p projector and a 92 inch screen. For about $2,000.00 you now have a real home theater. No need to go to the movies anymore because I assure you, once the pricture is dialed in, you'll have a better picture than your local cineplex.
Brands I Trust and/or Use
Plasma Display
Panasonic http://www.panasonic.com/
LED-LCD
Samsung www.samsung.com/us/
Sony www.sony.com/index.php
LCD Projector
Epson www.epson.com/cgi-bin/Store/jsp/Projectors/Home.do
Screen
Carada http://www.carada.com/
Da-Lite http://www.da-lite.com/
Calibration Disc
Digital Video Essentials www.videoessentials.com/
Spears and Munsil www.spearsandmunsil.com/
Where to Buy
Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/
Best Buy http://www.bestbuy.com/
Visual Apex http://www.visualapex.com/
Projector People http://www.projectorpeople.com/
Carada http://www.carada.com/
Useful Links
http://www.projectorcentral.com/
http://www.projectorreviews.com/
http://www.avsforum.com/
http://www.hometheatermag.com/
Next, I will take a look at the second most important component: Speakers.
I'm a big fan of Michael J. Nelson (of Mystery Science Theater 3000 fame). His wit and sardonic writing style is right up there with the best ever. Now, among other things, he writes a back page editorial for a magazine called Home Theater. His articles are always a fun read, and he makes this crazy hobby fun for me even though I have been at it for almost 15 years. And believe me, that's no easy feat. For home theater is a hobby that is both glory and curse all in one. I do not exagerate: it's power and allure has been known to drive it's disciples to such depravity as sacrificing the first born...well I exagerrate...only the second born.
MJN and Friends
Why? What could cause rational people to literally lose their minds over something that isn't religion or the particcular eastern philosophy that is currently en vogue in Hollywood? The answer varies for each of us addicts, but speaking only for myself, I can say that my desire for the best home theater is the desire for audio and video perfection. And since that isn't possible, I'm hooked for life. And yet my wife still loves me.So, if your still interested in the home theater hobby after reading the above prose, then I both feel sorry for you and welcome you as brother and sister. Unlike me, though, you have the benefit of entering this hobby at a time when it will not cost you an arm and a leg...just the arm (ha).
Seriously, though. This hobby's cost is at an all-time low and bang-for-your-buck is out of this world. It's still easy to make mistakes, though. The Internet is full of information overload for the beginner, and I intend by this article to get you out of the muck, and start on dry land. And for God's sake don't go to Best Buy for advice. You know more than they do.
Some things that I must convey to you before I begin:
You have a signficant other who will tolerate this hobby. I can't stress this point enough. The last thing you wil ever do is bring home a 60" LED-LCD flat screen television; I mean it; it will be the last thing you ever do. So, get permission, or go home. It's not worth your life or your relationship.
You have space to dedicate to a theater. It can be a living room, but again, prior appoval from the other person is a necessity. Don't expect to bring home a dual 18" subwoofer that weighs more than Jets coach Rex Ryan, and expect to see the dawn.
New York Jets Head Coach Rex Ryan: I hate this guy.
You have some extra money to spend. It's not worth even thinking about home theater unless you have extra cash flow. Believe me, I am speaking from personal experience that the last thing you want to do is have three mortgages; your first, your second, and your home theater.You must have patience. All this pretty technology is amazing, and believe it or not has become less complicated from the early days where one needed arcane degrees in Quantum Mechanics. But it still requires a healthy dose of valium to complete a typical upgrade. Remember, keep all sharp objects locked away, and for Heaven's sake no firearms within easy reach. It's just not worth it.
And finally, you must be humble. You don't have all the answers. Believe you me, if you think your problem is unique your dead wrong. The Internet has made it possible to have access to geniuses, who, for a small price, may or may not help you. These home theater Gods are fickle, and have the power to fry your electrical grid for the next hundred years. So be nice to them, and your problems suddenly will seem much smaller.
Now, after all this, you still want a home theater? Your my kind of person.
Over the next few posts I will address one component of home theater in all the detail my experience can muster. I hope you enjoy the ride.
Component One: The Display
The display is the most important part of a home theater. Get it wrong, and no matter how good the other components are the end experience will be disappointing. For home theater, the minimum screen size is 50 inches diagonal. Your screen size should be dictated by your viewing distance and the resolution of the source material. With the advent of HD sources we can now sit much closer to the screen than in the good ol' days of DVD and analog cable.
First, let's take a look at resolution. You do not want to consider any display that has a resolution less than 1280 x 720 (usually abbreviated 720p). Ideally, you will want a full 1980 x 1080 display (1080p) which is the resolution of nearly all Blu Ray discs. Cable and satellite, while both offering a myriad of HD programming, do not broadcast in 1080p; the bandwith is simply too great for even fiber-optic cables. Instead, their broadcasting is either done in 720p or 1080i (or interlaced; slightly less pure than a true 1080p source).
Next comes viewing distance. In the old days, we had to sit a minimum of two times screen width in order to not see all the nasty artificats in the transfer that would simply ruin your viewing experience. Now, with HD sources, we can safely go to as little as 1.2 times screen width (I prefer 1.5, but I'm old school). A 50 inch diagonal display has a screen width of 44 inches. So, your minimum viewing distance for HD sources would be about 6 feet. Practically speaking, that distance can be a bit close . You can move back from that distance to say, 8 feet, but understand that any further, and you likely will want a bigger display. In displays, as with other things, size matters.
A display less than 50 inches diagonal would be an acceptable alternative. In bedrooms, I think such a size is fine. However, for the living room or dedicated space you will want to go bigger. And I am not talking about, as the English would say, a bigger "tele" anymore. Now, we are moving into what home theater is all about: tbe projector and screen.
In the old days (20 years ago is ancient history in this hobby) one could shell out $200,000 for a 9" CRT projector with line doubler. Even a budget CRT projector was north of ten grand, and it would not do HD so it wasn't even future proof. Not to mention these beasts were as heavy as a tank, and had to be professionally cared for and installed (unless you were a techie Bob Villa). In short, they were the domain of the truly mad, or ultra rich. Or both. Also, CRT projectors were notoriously dim, and could only be viewed in a bat cave.
Now, we have no need to spend such princely sums on a projector. A good 1080p LCD based model will run you about $1,500.00, and a good 92 inch diagonal screen about $500.00. So, for the cost of a good 50 inch to 55 inch display you can have a projector that in theatrical impact will simply slaughter the television. Another great thing about a modern projector is that you don't have to have it professionally installed. I have mine on a cabinet, and it took about a half hour to connect and focus the lens. However, if you wish to ceiling mount your projector you need to be handy, or hire a professional. The downside to projectors? Not much, other than bulb replacement which can run you about $300 every 2000 hours.
Finally, the most important aspect to displays has nothing to do with the physical display itself. It's all about the settings, dude. You ever wonder why displays in a Best Buy or Wal-Mart look so bright and pop like a fireworks show? It's because these displays are in a bright showroom, and in order to sell a display the employees generally max all of the picture settings out to obscene levels. The result is a bright, but totally inaccurate picture.
The goal of the video side of home theater is to calibrate the display to get as close to a reference standard as possible. There are many standards that apply, but the three most important factors are color temperture, color accuracy, and contrast. How does one accurately set your picture controls? Get a calibration disc like Digital Video Essentials or the new disc from Spears and Munsil. These discs are a God-send to newbies and veterans alike. They will walk you through step-by-step on how to set each picture setting accurately. You will be amazed at the results.
I will now make recommendations for displays, and provide you with links that I have indispensable in my journey.
Display Recommendations
Plasmas in the 50 inch to 54 inch range. Usually these displays street price for around $1,000.00 and are excellent entry level movie watching displays. They are not as bright as similar priced LCD's, but make up for it by providing superior black levels and better off-axis viewing. In my opinioin, there is no better bang for your buck in home theater at the entry level.
LED-LCD's in the 55 inch range. At around $2,000 street price these displays are the top dog for television right now. Spending more on a bigger screen is a waste, in my opinion, and you really should go the projector/screen route at that point. LED-LCD's blacks are as good as a plasma display, and they have brightness to spare. Wonderful displays and they keep coming down in price every year.
LCD 1080p projector and a 92 inch screen. For about $2,000.00 you now have a real home theater. No need to go to the movies anymore because I assure you, once the pricture is dialed in, you'll have a better picture than your local cineplex.
Brands I Trust and/or Use
Plasma Display
Panasonic http://www.panasonic.com/
LED-LCD
Samsung www.samsung.com/us/
Sony www.sony.com/index.php
LCD Projector
Epson www.epson.com/cgi-bin/Store/jsp/Projectors/Home.do
Screen
Carada http://www.carada.com/
Da-Lite http://www.da-lite.com/
Calibration Disc
Digital Video Essentials www.videoessentials.com/
Spears and Munsil www.spearsandmunsil.com/
Where to Buy
Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/
Best Buy http://www.bestbuy.com/
Visual Apex http://www.visualapex.com/
Projector People http://www.projectorpeople.com/
Carada http://www.carada.com/
Useful Links
http://www.projectorcentral.com/
http://www.projectorreviews.com/
http://www.avsforum.com/
http://www.hometheatermag.com/
Next, I will take a look at the second most important component: Speakers.
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