Editorial
Front Page - Friday, February 18, 2011
Are we there yet?
Free at last
Jay Edwards
I was watching a program the other night called “Lockup.” It’s a show about somewhere you don’t want to be.
It reminded me of when I once found myself locked in a pitch-black cell, in the isolation block at a maximum-security prison. With me were two young girls I didn’t know, who I guessed were probably around the age of 12 or 13.
I have an explanation.
Actually the prison, while once being home to many of the country’s worst felons, was shut down over four decades ago due to high costs of upkeep.
It is the famous Alcatraz, now a national park, with tours running every 30 minutes. To get there you take a ferry from Pier 33 at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. If you ever have the opportunity, I highly recommend it.
We took the first ferry of the day and on that morning the sun, still low in the eastern horizon, reflected past the Bay Bridge onto the silver water behind us. West was to our left, as was the towering orange span of the Golden Gate Bridge, and beyond it the Pacific Ocean.
Directly in front of us was our destination, the small island that still projected gloom, even on a morning as perfect as that one.
After docking, we decided to go straight to the cell house, which sits on the island’s highest point. We took our time walking up the steep hill, soaking in the views of the city skyline.
At last we came to the entrance of the building that held 378 cells, each one five feet by nine, and once home to guys known as “Doc,” “Creepy,” “Machine Gun,” “Scarface,” and “Birdman.”
We walked through A-Block, part of the original military prison built by convicts, who later became its first residents. From there it was north to B-Block, where an escape attempt by six inmates led to the “Battle of Alcatraz” in May of 1946.
During that two-day bloody siege, three inmates and two guards died. Two of the surviving convicts were later executed in the gas chamber at San Quentin for the murder of one of the guards. The last man received an additional 99-year sentence for his part in the failed attempt.
It was in D-Block where we saw the isolation cells. The guide opened the door to one of them and asked if anyone wanted “the treatment.” I walked ahead, claustrophobia be damned.
I moved to the back of the cell and waited for him to shut the door. Before he could, in scurried two little giggling pre-teen girls.
The heavy door slammed shut and the light was gone. So was the giggling. Less than a minute later the door opened and we walked out. It had been enough time to get the effect.
•••
Speaking of being incarcerated, someone dug up and sent me the following “employment wanted” ad, posted back in 2001, in the Toronto Financial Post Classifieds, by an obviously ambitious and reformed ex-convict –
“Having successfully completed a ten-year sentence, incident-free, for importing 75 tons of marijuana into the United States, I am now seeking a legal and legitimate means to support myself and my family.
Business Experience – Owned
and operated a successful fishing business, multi-vessel, one airplane, one island and processing facility. During this time I also co-owned and participated in the executive-level management of 120 people worldwide in a successful pot smuggling venture with revenues in excess of $100 million annually. I took responsibility for my own actions, and received a ten-year sentence in the U.S. while others walked free for their cooperation.
Attributes – I am an expert in all levels of security; I have extensive computer skills, am personable, outgoing, well educated, reliable, clean and sober. I have spoken in schools to thousands of kids and 10 parent groups over the last ten years on ‘the consequence of choice,’ and received public recognition from the RCMP for community service. I am well traveled and speak English, French and Spanish. References available from friends, family, the U.S. District Attorney, etc.”
You may have noticed that he didn’t list a former employer as a reference. Probably a good reason for that if you do the math on 75 tons of marijuana.
Seventyfive tons is 150,000 pounds, and 150,000 pounds is 2.4 million ounces. At a hundred bucks an ounce, the value of that shipment, that I assume was confiscated by the feds, was 240 million dollars, give or take.
I guess if I lost nearly a quarter billion where I work then I would probably be looking for a job too.
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