Whenever you’re forced to be around people you don’t particularly like, disagreements are going to happen. If you have a disagreement and you’re dealing with a teenager, they sometimes think it’s a good idea to have the camp counselor mediate the disagreement. This is always a mistake. The teenager thought that just “I” would get in trouble for our disagreement; the camp counselors thought it was both our faults and sent us both to the special housing unit (SHU) where we stayed for six weeks or so. It was a horrible experience BUT it allows me to say this about Elkton and the Transfer Center (not the BOP in general). In my personal experience, there is no way Epstein could have killed himself without “help” from the guards. Negligence and/or incompetence wouldn’t have been enough. In other words, I’m firmly stating that the guards would have had to actively help with his suicide or murder. So, anyone who tells you different is lying, IMO.

The BOP (during my kidnapping between Dec 2015 & Feb 2021) had substantial resources. Malfunctioning cameras on the compound were replaced the next day. Five guards entire job for their shift was to watch the camera feeds on their high resolution monitors. Malfunctioning toilets were fixed within a few days of being reported broken. Malfunctioning TVs were also replaced quickly. At Elkton, I personally saw a warehouse full of replacement parts. So the idea that all those cameras and the DVRs were malfunctioning at the MCC is (I believe) nonsense. The other obvious problem is, Epstein had WAY too much clothing and bedding. The only way to get all that extra stuff was a guard. When I was in the SHU, you had to take off your jumpsuit and underwear to get clean items. It was literally a piece for piece swap. Same for your sheets. You couldn’t even have more than one book. To get a new book you’d have to give them an old book. Unlike in the dorms, the guards took their responsibilities in the SHU very seriously, because some people were in the cells alone. Therefore, their only human contact was with the guards, so they made sure to check on us every hour. Sometimes I’d be on the top bunk just staring at the floor and they’d tap on the door’s window and ask “you OK?” I’d say “yeah, just hate it here” He’d say “Okay” and move on. So, from my personal experience, the idea that they didn’t do their rounds is not credible. In other words, if they didn’t do them, they did it on purpose.

Now, onto the Covid-19 fiasco. You may be surprised at my take on this situation. The main cause of the Covid-19 problem was mass incarceration, not incompetence. As I’ve mentioned before, everyone deemed to be at the security level required to be at Elkton shouldn’t be in prison – since we have something called electronic monitors. The cruel fact is that Elkton was a dormitory. So once Covid-19 entered the facility (we were told it entered via a guard working in commissary), it was going to infect everyone, end of story. Again, as I’ve mentioned before, there were people with severe medical problems at Elkton and as such, deaths were inevitable. So, from my point of view – having lived through it – I can say the Elkton’s staff did everything they could (within our cruel punishment system) to try and mitigate the problem. They shut down the yard immediately & kept us in the dorms 24/7. They put hand sanitizer everywhere, sprayed every touchable surface in the dorms with Lysol twice a day, checked our temperatures every morning and removed anyone with a fever. They even called in the national guard to help triage those that got really sick and placed them in the visiting room. Although, some of them weren’t that sick, because they broke into the vending machines, just like a teenager would. SMDH.

Anyway, once the lawsuits were filed, they went over and above. They quickly complied with Court orders and depopulated the compound to the point that it was underpopulated when I left in early 2021. So I guess my bottom line about this fiasco is this – when your have a cruel and unfair justice system, you should expect to kill a few people. I think that we should have a prison system that only locks up people who are actually dangerous, not people we don’t like. Locking up people we don’t like has put us in the position of claiming to be the land of the free, but actually we’re the land that locks up more of its citizens than any other “first world” country in the world. America, Fuck Yeah! LOL

My letters to my parents take a drastic turn for the better once I’m at the FSL. Since hoodlums aren’t allowed, there is no more having to deal with childish people. As I mentioned the FCI inmate functioning level ranged from teenagers down to toddlers. So, if you’re an adult, their behavior was exhausting.

There was still childish behavior at the FSL, but it was totally teenager level, no toddlers. The teenaged behavior was cliquish fighting and an intractable need to “door hug”. At the FSL, the doors remained open for most of the day. We got recalled to the dorms before lunch and dinner, and the door was locked. Since there were only two units, the eating order was either first or second, unlike at the FCI where it was 1 to 6. Lunch and dinner ended about 15 minutes after the last camper was served, so there wasn’t any rush. Yet, the teenagers would hug the door for the hour before the door got opened for “chow” as we called all eating sessions. This was only an annoyance because the locked door was also the area where the bank of 4 phones were, making it difficult to make phone calls during the door hugging.

Anyway, when Dan and I entered the FSL we both agreed that our black & white perception had turned to color. It was summer and people were out playing Basketball, Hand Ball, Frisbee Golf & Volleyball with a sand pit. I was put into a top bunk window cube and was immediately greeted by the welcoming commitee. (I shit you not.) They asked if I needed anything (they had toothbrushes, toothpaste and other commissary stuff a new arrival might need. You just paid them back when you went to commissary for the first time.) I explained I was a transfer, they side “well, let us know if you need anything” and were off…

After our first night, Dan and I discuss how eerily quiet it was, after lights out. Our fellow campers acted respectfully and did make noise after lights out. (The TV rooms are open to 11:30pm on weeknights and 1AM on weekends). AT the FCI the hoodlums would make noise all night then try to sleep all day, having the nerve to ask you to be quiet during the day – SMDH. Once at the camp, we understood the meaning of “club fed” because that’s what it was. I continued to walk the track for most hours of the day. After my PTSD had warn off from the FCI, I began to make friends and discuss my situation openly. Since there was a sex offender treatment program at the FSL, people were very open about their charges and the evidence against them. They all agreed, without exception, that the case against me was total bullshit.

First, relating to the illegal images, they realized over casual conversations that I really didn’t understand the lingo that they used. Next, I had no knowledge about “series”. I was told that illegal images are traded as “series”; where the collectors try to collect all the pictures or videos in a particular series. Also, apparently you have to pay restitution to the subject of a series if you are found to have been in possession of files from any particular series. Thus, one of the first vetting questions they ask new campers is “who did you get?” after they see your name on the list for treatment. I, of course, couldn’t answer the question because I genuinely didn’t know what they were talking about when they asked.

The FCI and the FSL debunked a persistent convict myth that everyone claims they’re innocent. Perhaps this is true for when convicts speak to non-convicts, but to other convicts they admit what they’ve done. Although, almost all assert (and I agree) that they got too much time for their crime(s). Another myth my experience has shattered is the idea that our justice system is fair, it most certainly is not.

The food at the FSL was much better than the FCI because there were no hoodlums stealing ingredients for hustles. The hoodlums made food in the dorm by using “stingers” to boil food in mop buckets. The stingers were made from an AC cord they’ve stolen and connected to metal rods. They plugged the stinger into a wall outlet (some of the cubicles had them for sleep apnea machines) fill a mop bucket with water then put the food inside “clean” garbage bags and cook it in the hot water. I never ate anything from these gross endeavors. Cooking with stingers was one of the many hustles at the FCI. The hustlers were paid with dollar stamps (the currency of the FCI & FSL). You used stamps to pay others to do stuff for you like steal food from the kitchen (usually hot sandwiches), cook food for you in stingers, do your laundry (each dorm had 3 washers & 3 dryers), clean your cube and provide contraband (mostly porn and drugs). The last two things were smuggled in by the guards (who weren’t paid very much). FYI, the FSL had very few drugs.

There were many people that shouldn’t have been at the FSL – including me. One guy was so autistic that he functioned at the level of a ten year old. Everyone agreed he had no business being in prison, the Judge that put him there should be in prison. Another guy was so weak from cerebral palsy that he was wheel chair bound and wasn’t strong enough to open the dorm doors (they were heavy but balanced two inch steel, easily opened by anyone over the age of 8). Too many at both the FCI and FSL were in their 70 and 80s, I was like “what is the point?” The worst case I witnessed was a guy had to come stay with us for a month (A MONTH). His “crime” was that he had used the funds directly deposited into his recently deceased mothers account. Instead of just making it civil, they prosecuted him criminally. He showed me his paperwork, and it proved – like me – he was railroaded.

He was another victim of the “Meet ‘em, Plea ‘em, Flee ‘em” CJA mentality. He provided the Social Security Administration promptly with his mothers death certificate BUT deposits continued for a few months resulting in an overpayment of about 4 grand. Since he had proof that SSA made the mistake, this was strictly a civil matter as there was no fraud on his part and he was a joint account holder with his mother. Legally, anything deposited into the account was also his. He didn’t understand that, and his lawyer didn’t tell him. His CJA lawyer made it seem like he’d done a great job getting him this lenient plea deal. I told him your lawyer was either incompetent or a complete asshole.

Anyway, in regards to Ms. Maxwell – yeah she’s getting special treatment being at a camp that’s not an FSL but the warden could just let her go too, it’s totally within the BOP’s power to put inmates wherever they please.

Next I’ll post about my trip back up to the FCI – just in time for the Covid-19 fiasco…

Culture:

Ok, so the first thing you need to understand is that being detained at Elkton was like being detained at a terrible summer camp year round. In other words, it’s only terrible if you’re an adult; because, the majority of the campers act (at best) like teenagers and (at worst) toddlers. I’m being absolutely serious. I had always suspected that the USA was a totalitarian police state, but my time at Elkton confirmed it. It was shocking to realize just how similar life at Elkton was like life on the outside, although at Elkton an upper class person wasn’t able to ignore the poverty class.

The main tension at Elkton comes from the FACT that most of the campers (75%) are from the poverty class. But the prison is set up for working class people, so an immediate clash of cultures begins as soon as a poverty class person arrives at Elkton. The higher class campers (working, middle and upper) and the camp counselors (working class “guards”) do not understand the poverty class camper’s behavior at all. Thus, if Elkton got rid of the poverty class campers, it wouldn’t be a “bad” experience. To understand this dynamic fully, I’d suggest reading a Framework for Understanding Poverty By Ruby K. Payne. Bottom line, the people in the poverty class really are much different than the rest of us…

Another book you’ll need to read to understand the USA is Police State: How Americas Cops Get Away with Murder by Gerry Spence, to understand that we now live in a police state. Once you understand the information in those two books, you’ll understand why my experience at Elkton wasn’t diametrically different from my experience outside Elkton. The illusion of freedom was completely stripped away (as I couldn’t leave the compound) but my daily routine was identical to what it would be anywhere in the USA. Working/Middle Class culture permeated every minute of my stay.

Sleeping / Living Area:

I arrived at Elkton after “lights out”. The camp counselor turns off the lights after final count between 9 and 10pm (some counselors struggled with this task; because, they were stupid. Two counselors were required to do the count, one after each other and their counts had to match at the end, otherwise they had to do it over. Cameras in the dorm made it so cheating on this task was impossible). In sum, a camp counselors job consisted of two mandatory functions, 1) count the campers at specific times and 2) lock and unlock doors at specific times. When the doors at the camp were unlocked, it was called a “move” and you had about 15 minutes to move freely about the camp also know as the “yard”. During the day, the moves occurred on the hour, so the campers would make plans around the moves (i.e “meet me at the gym on the 1pm move”). Just like summer camp, we lived in dormitories. Elkton FCI had three dorms and the FSL had one. The dorms have two floors, thus the campers identity soon became entwined with their dorm. I was on the second floor of dorm 1, so I was with the B faction on the compound. (Dorms were called A, B, C, D, E & F)

Each side of the dorm had a bathroom with 8 urinals and 6 stalls and 12 showers. We slept in cubicles just like you’d see in any corporate office building except these were made of cinder blocks stacked 6 feet high. Each cubical in the center of the dorm had three beds (a bunk bed and a “Cadillac”) and three lockers. The cubicles on the outside walls had windows and just a bunk bed with two lockers, so they were “coveted” areas. I spent my first three months in a 3 bed cubical and was recruited to join the top bunk in a window cubical when Fred’s roommate went to the “Special Housing Unit” (SHU). The SHU is really the only thing they can do to punish you besides taking away commissary. Outside of skin color, the best way to tell if a guy was from poverty class or the upper classes was by what they wanted to you call them. Without exception, every camper from the poverty class used a nickname, all upper class campers used their first name. (More on that later)

Camp Life (Daytime):

The day started at 7AM and you had to have a “job”. You were supposed to follow all the rules and the “cops” randomly patrolled the camp to enforce the rules – but campers vastly outnumbered them, so they really couldn’t do much. Thus, mostly along class lines, 25% of the campers did what they were supposed to do and 75% didn’t, making the experience worse for everyone. Because, most of the “jobs” were a joke because the place was over crowded (I’ll discuss that in another post about the Covid-19 fiasco), so most of the jobs consisted of just going to an area at the camp and staying there for a fixed amount of time. If you laughed at that sentence, exactly! My first job required me to get up and go sit in a very large room at a table from 8am to 3pm. The only perk of this “job” was that we went to lunch first.

There were 4 places you could be during the day, 1) at your job, 2) at the library, 3) at REC or 4) in the dorm. During my first months at the camp, I noticed something pathetic, a significant portion of the campers were elderly and were in wheel chairs or using walkers. In fact, the actual security assessment you’d have to pass to be at a low or minimum federal prison proves that they should not exist. Proving that there is something very wrong with our system of justice.

I soon began referring to the poverty class as “hoodlums” because of their behavior. And my letters confirm that I hated them. The focus of my letters revolved around my illegal kidnapping, the hoodlums and how pointless this particular camp was…

Camp Life (Nighttime):

I did not participate in nightlife. After dinner, I read books & magazines in my bunk until lights out, then went to sleep. The hoodlums spent their time in the 5 different TV rooms in the dorm, where they talked very loudly (part of poverty culture), played games and some pursued illegal activities (mostly drug use).

Social Structure:

The culture at the prison is dictated by the security level. In Medium and higher security prisons you must join a “car” (otherwise you’ll be brutalized). A car is a group of individuals that form a gang and they fight (physically) to keep themselves safe and for the limited resources in prison. The safest car in a prison (if you’re black) are the muslims, so there are many temporary muslims in prison. The biggest cars are prison gangs. But, none of this car nonsense is tolerated at a low or minimum prison. And it’s the only thing that I’ve witnessed that the warden has a zero tolerance for and they would “ship” you back to a medium facility if they even suspected car activity outside determining who can be in a TV room. Thus, to watch TV in a particular TV room you had to be in their Car. Other than that, there was no car activity at Elkton. Thus, I didn’t have to and never did join a Car. I “stayed in my own lane” and minded my own business.

FYI, In poverty culture, the worst thing you can be is a “snitch”. Thus the only thing that would get you run off the yard at Elkton is if you were a “snitch”. In other words, mind your own business and you’ll be left alone. The process of running you off was called “making you check in”. That meant you had to go to the guard and say “I don’t feel safe here”. Most times the guard would be “seriously? Here? Get out of my office” And the guy would have to try multiple times to get the guard to check him in. I only witnessed it once, a Gangster Disciple arrived one day and all the GD’s knew he was a snitch, so they made him “check in” and I never saw him again.

Paperwork:

Now, as I was told (at medium and higher institutions), before you’d be accepted into a car, you had to provide your paperwork (court documents) proving that your weren’t a snitch. If you were white and wanted to join a white car you also had to prove that you weren’t a “cho-mo”. As I mentioned above, cars are forbidden at low and minimum security federal prisons and as such no-one could actually get their paperwork (the guards aren’t allowed to print it, but they can view it – so a TV room car could eventually find out) but many people would lie. One white guy lied about it for years. He was always spouting off about how he hated “cho-mos” so none of us were surprised when one day a guard who gave no fucks overheard someone complaining about him and he just said “what? that dudes a cho-mo” and walked off. He was kicked out of the TV room a few days later. Bottom line, you’ll need to have “clean paperwork” at medium and higher prisons, at low or minimum it’s not a thing.

Transfer to the FSL:

After a year at the FCI, I’d had enough of dealing with the hoodlums and wanted more intelligent campers to be around. I put in for a transfer at my yearly review. I was granted my wish and was transferred with my best friend and bunkmate Dan. I’ll write about that in my next post.