I Went To Jail

Last night, along with the other 19 people in my class, I went to jail for a visit.  They let me out again.  Actually, a funny thing happened on our way out.  We climbed the four sets of stairs from the basement and walked right past the exit door into the jail lobby again and sort of a panicked before we realized our mistake. Sheepishly we turned back and left; free to walk to our cars parked downtown Anoka. After two and a half hours in the Anoka County jail I was ready to be free again.  We learned about warrants, liens, and writs and orders for protection.  I learned enough about the eviction process to know I will never, ever, rent a room out.  We learned how orders for protection differ from restraining orders.  Our speakers thanked us for signing up for this course.  They appreciate any information we can spread that will increase the public trust in law enforcement. We learned about the foreclosure process which, thank goodness, is slowing down now.  The people who work in the civil department of the sheriff office have a job where no one is ever happy to see them.  We moved on to the jail next. Our speaker said he thrives on his job at the jail but acknowledges it takes a lot out of him.  Jailor to inmate ratio is 1 to 60.  He says his goal is that everyone, staff and inmates, are "nose above toes" at the end of the shift.  Saying nose above toes means alive.  We were shown a collection of knives that have been confiscated including one blade concealed inside a lipstick case.  I twisted the lipstick and a tiny blade circled up and I got creeped out. This was only one of several creeped out moments ahead on this jail tour.  We start our tour.  In the booking area is a young man bent over a trash barrel heaving his guts out.  A jailor rubs his back and says, "We've all been there buddy."  I have a "sympathetic to puking stomach" and so does our speaker so we rush through that area to the photo booth.  We see the retina scan machine, the palm print machine, and the finger print machine which is all digital now; no ink.  I think it's weird to see, in person, these things that I read about in books and see on television.  This is real and there are real people going through this experience for the first time.  Intakes are patted down.  Body cavity searches are not done without a court order and no one orders that here in Anoka. But things are brought in via body cavities.  The people who work at this jail see the side of human behavior that most of us don't see and don't want to see.  Depending on cooperation level, the inmate is sent to one of several holding cells.  More cooperative people are put in a room with others.  Less cooperative people are put in rooms alone.  Really uncooperative people are put in rooms with less things for them to mess with.  We move down the hall way and the inmates look at us.  One woman smiles, waves, and says "Hello!" as if she knew us personally.  Another creeped out moment.  I do not want to see anyone that I know.  What if I locked eyes with a coworker?  A former acquaintance? One of my former Girl Scout troop members? A relative?  I look away and down the hall while noticing that the windows looking into each room down the hall look to be the same exact glass and frame as my former office at work.  Both buildings were built by the county in the same decade so that makes sense.  We crowd into an elevator that randomly sags under our weight at odd intervals.  Up to the third floor we go into the secured room where the camera shots are viewed.  A big control desk has a NASA looking multitude of twenty monitors each viewing a different part of the jail. Two people work this desk during the day and only one at night. The person in control has the button that allows staff to open doors.  This guy has a busy job.  Our speaker speaks while we stare at the screen.  A state highway patrol vehicle comes into the sally port.  Six staff are paged to get this inmate out of the vehicle.  He is not cooperative and he lies on the cement garage floor with six people trying to stop him from hurting himself.  We watch, on camera, as he comes into the booking area.  People around him seem a little more relaxed when he impulsively tries to smash his head against a cement wall.  I saw him do it.  This is a hard moment for many inmates.  The criminal justice system has brought them to the end of the road and they do not want to face the music.  The first 24 hours are the most dangerous for most inmates.  Another student asks about what she thinks is a fight between inmates.  I see she is looking at inmates playing handball.  The speaker thinks she is talking about another screen where two inmates are horsing around.  There is so much to look at in the office and the guy working there is opening and shutting doors while watching all these screens and answering the phone at the same time.  Our speaker talks about suicide attempts he has witnessed and stopped.  He talks and we listen with great interest for an hour in this room.  My feet are killing me but I don't care; this is super interesting. We leave the room and walk toward the elevator.  I peek over the third floor balcony.  I see inmates staring at us intently from the first and second floor levels. All, and I mean ALL, their eyes are staring up at us either directly or in the round mirror. Ai yi yi! Suddenly I feel very uncomfortable.  Maybe a downy woodpecker who spots a Cooper's hawk soaring overhead and clings to the side of a tree hoping to be inconspicuous feels the same way?  I'm not the only one.  Others of our group move away from the side of the balcony so they can not feel the inmate's eyes on them.  I ask the speaker if he has ever been hurt on the job.  He's worked here for 20 years.  He shows me a four inch scar just above his shirt color from the side of his neck to the front of his neck. Oh my. I work too and sometimes in agitated situations.  I have a couple barely visible scars on my skin.  I do not have a four inch scar over my carotid artery!  Yet this guy says this job is his passion; his career.  I don't think I could do it.  I don't think I could face this kind of danger day in and day out.  He jokes and says the Anoka County jail "always leaves the light on."  I'm glad he is there.  Frankly I could not do it.   Whew!  Any inmate's information and picture is a matter of public record.  To see who's staying at our jail tonight go to:  http://www.anokacounty.us/727/Inmate-Locator