MyTimeToBlog
Wallen Ridge State Prison is one of two supermax facilities in Virginia. In my twenties, and thirties I spent nearly a decade in that hellhole. I witnessed many atrocities performed by correction officers. I even saw incarcerated men do some insane stuff that had me wishing I was somewhere else. That's why I should've never gotten into an argument through a cell door.
At that time, I had a chip on my shoulder. Shoot, in truth, Mount Everest resided up there. This all came from being around violence. It made you a quick draw, like Billy The Kid; I had to get you before you got me. That mentality was the norm, because cellies fought all the time. The COs had us on eggshells, due to the threats of shooting one of us for merely patting someone on the back. It was that bad, and being in the midst of it all, you carried this attitude that made it hard to be civil.
One day I'm out in the housing unit, serving trays. We had to stand at the cell door, wait for the booth officer to open the slots, then we passed the tray. We went from the bottom tier to the top. Once we were done, we picked up the trays and the trash. Now while we're doing this, the CO would leave us to do it on our own. So some of the incarcerated men would ask us to pass contraband, and for a fee, we would. In truth, it was hell on us to simply hand off a bag of chips during recreation, so when you needed help with passing something off, I would help. Mind you, there were nearly seventy men in the unit. They would call and call and call. It became so annoying that I lashed out verbally at one of the men.
Again, I'm an angry Black man with multiple life sentences to do...in a prison that treated all of us like crap. So, when I screamed at the man to stop shouting my name, he fired back with a verbal beatdown of his own. I sprinted to his cell, enraged. We locked eyes through the cell door's window. I sent a threat of violence, and he followed up with the same. We're steaming mad, but a metal door separates us from becoming combative. I warned him that when the door popped, you pop (we were going to fight). He cursed at me, and I did the same, we stormed off.
In the heat of the moment, you can't think. All you're living off of are emotions. Now once I was in my cell, I calmed down, realizing I just declared war. So, I sat on my bunk, waiting. Do you know, it was 4:30 PM when this all started, and I wouldn't come out of my cell until 6:30 AM the next day, because they canceled recreation that evening.
I won't lie, I was scared out of my mind. I let my imagination--which is vivid--run wild. I'm in a death match with this guy, while the CO shot rubber bullets at us. Thoughts of him and his celly jumping me. I saw myself being bludgeoned with an adapter. It went like this from 4:30 PM until 6:30 AM. I woke up every hour on the hour, freaking out about a fight that started over me being angry at the world.
Now here's the crazy part: the guy I'm supposed to fight was feeling the same way. I kid you not. He couldn't sleep either. So, when we came out for breakfast, I assumed the worst...but he didn't get up for chow. My eyes were on his cell going out, and coming in. I've seen all the prison movies from yesteryear, where the guy gets a shank in the neck. That wouldn't be me. So, when we finally had outside recreation, I saw him on the tier. Damn, it's about to go down.
I have been on Wallen Ridge for a long time. I know about the hiding spots that were used to sneak somebody. Since I did, I knew I had to get outside before him. I couldn't run outside, you had to wait for permission from the CO in the booth with the shotgun pointed at the unit. When he said go, I eased past everybody and got outside before he did.
Outside, I'm moving for the fence, so I could have it watching my back. My heart was racing, because nobody knew what transpired between him and I. When I saw him coming out of the building, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to fight him, honestly. I was angry, scared, and not knowing how to ask for help. So, when he approached me with his hands up, I was relieved. He wanted to talk. Inside my head, I'm doing a happy dance.
That day we spoke like men. He and I apologized for our actions, not knowing how scared we both were. I later learned from his celly that he didn't get any sleep that night, and that made me laugh. From that day moving forward, I never allowed myself to lose it like that again. I now pull whoever I have an issue with aside, and talk it out like men.
I'll say this, and I mean it: anger can do more harm than good. I had to learn this in one of the most violent worlds on the planet. I'm a grown man now, and gratefully so, because I learned to deal with my emotions, and show others how to do the same. Take it from me, lying in bed all night over an argument isn't worth it. Speak your mind...without anger, please.