l probably would have kept the dictation secretary job thruout my stay at SNF, but for a couple of things: First, while the work itself was fine (l loved listening to such private and life-related work, especially considering my interest in psychology in general and my own personal needs in that area...) But the other two people who worked in the same office as l, were old-school professional
crooks, neither of whom was any fun; the few times l saw either of them smile or laugh, they were looking back at a moment when they had hurt or maimed someone in the course of their "work". l didn't want to become friend or enemy
to those two. l must mention here that about five years after l finished my sentence at SNF, l found myself in a slow-moving line at the main P.O. in San Jose, Ca. and gave my attention to the always-interesting list of the FBl's ten
most-wanted fugitives. And, there he was, Gerald Z., one of the two guys l shared the office with. Right, he was wanted for murdering someone and taking
a bunch of their money. Secondly, my new friend Chuck C. worked at SNF in
maintenance. His job was glazier and locksmith. At that point, the new prison,
SNF, was at about 1/2 it's designed capacity but was growing fast. The larger the population, the more maintenance. (Replacing broken windows, adjusting and or repairing locking mechanisms). So l became Chuck C.'s helper, and a
member of Mr. Price's "maintenance mob". Soon after l started at maintenance,
they relieved us of the glazier work; that became a seperate department, as did
locksmithing.
Chuck and l worked well together and became good friends. We are in touch to this day. Most of our locksmith work was repairing " door ajar detection systems, which, in short prevented the deadlock from sliding into place when any cell door on the same tier is ajar. A design flaw had allowed for easy failure
of the machanism, leaving us with a difficult two-man, two hour procedure to
restore normal operation. The failure was so common that, most days we'd have
two or three work orders for them every day. A few days after l started in maint-
enance, Chuck and l got permission from Mr. Price to spend some time closely
observing some of the scheduled door-openings in an effort to learn why so many of the door-ajar systems were failing. lt took only a few minutes at our first stop (10am opening in Lassen Housing unit...Chuck's and my home unit)
to see what the answer was: The guard, impatient with the inmates taking too much time to get into their cells, grab what they need and get back out of the cell and let the doors close, while he repeatedly shouts "doors close" punctuated
by the sound of hammer blows on steel, made by slamming the long-handled locking lever against it's stopping pin, over and over and over again. Price, who
preferred not to be called Mr. Price, said he'd talk to Deputy Warden Hatch, who
would call the problem to the attention of all guards with shifts at SNF and ask them to do their best to avoid breakage. lmmediately, the number of work orders to repair door systems dropped precipitously. For some weeks, maybe
a couple months, not one was seen. By the time l started working in Maintenance, l had already hooked up with some of the recommended activities
available at SNF. l was mostly interested in the Speakers Club. lt was a chartered member of Toastmasters lnternational. lt's pitch was that the one thing most convicted and incarcerated felons have in common is a lack of self-
confidence. lt was clamed that public speaking can build self-confidence. l
didn't really agree that l, admittedly a convicted felon, lacked self-confidence. l
thought then and still do that l had plenty of self-confidence, l just didn,t have the knowledge and experience to back it up. But l thought that a few months of structured,directed public speaking would surely be benificial. Hey, just a few months earlier l had ben hired to read the news at KUTY in Palmdale even though l had no related experience or education. (l felt very confident going into the audition, but was somehow surprised that it was good enough. And "good
enough for starters" is what the station manager had said. Because of that, l
fully intended to take another shot at a career in broadcasting as soon as my personal situation would allow it. And what could better for one who aspires to
a speaking career than a membership in a "Speakers Club"?
Drama Club: lt's a lot of fun to be involved in the staging of one-act plays, which is what the Drama Club at SNF had as it's main work. l joined with them,too.
l had no idea what Judaism was about but, some of my friends at SNF were Jews and invited me to attend services with them on a particular Jewish Holiday.
The food that went with it was mostly new to me but great! lt turned out that many of us were there primarily for the food. l still know very little about Judaism, but their food stuck with me; l seldom visit San Francisco, nowadays
but when l do, l almost always visit David's Delicatessen.
Other activities l got involved with were counseling groups; The Rabbi's group,
with five members, Bernard Zackheim's group, six members. lf Zackheim is a familiar name to you, it might be because he was the artist who led the team
that did the frescos in Coit Tower during FDR's "New Deal". At SNF, he was,
among other jobs, he taught the art and practice of upholstery.
l also visited my assigned staff counselor about once in two weeks. And, once a
week l attended "the big group". Up to a hundred folding chairs arranged in a circle around the TV area. l especially liked this group, though it could be hard
to get the floor.
My favorite activity was probably oil painting. The Department of Corrections
supplied paint, stretched canvases, brushes and palate knives,easel and event-
ually display space; first in the offices of staffpersons (maybe even the Warden's). Then to the walls of the store in the visitor's center. Though l wasn't
counting at the time, l must have sent 20 to 25 paintings thru that course.
The day before l left on parole, the Warden visited me at work. He said that he had enjoyed watching my paintings transit the place. He also told me that inmate painting generated far more revenue than the State pays for the materials to make them. l probably could have guessed that.
When l was notified that l would have a parole hearing six months into my sentence, l had no negatives on my record, l figured l might very well be paroled
soon after the hearing. When l learned that l had been denied parole and would
wait nine months for another hearing, l was crushed. From the first days spent at LACJ, l had actively sought to find someone who knew how to turn stolen cars
into money. l was only at Soledad about four months when l found myself in
possession of the names and contact information of three persons whom l'd been told could help turn cars into money. lf l had been paroled at six months,l
would have returned to a life of thieving and forging and who knows what else.
l had to face the fact that l couldn't expect to be paroled and to be a successful
parolee while l had plans to successfully steal and sell.
The three names of folks supposedly ready and willing to help me be a successful criminal, would have to go.
l was last in line at the parole hearing and we ran late, so l went directly to
that week's Speakers Club meeting,which was just starting. At that time l had been the club's elected Executive Vice President for about four and a half months and had also delivered a gang of speeches, always taking the good guy liberal position often versus Conservative good guy John Henson and his "Richard Nixon is the man" speeches. That night l abandoned the speech l had planned and winged a speech in which l confessed my hypocrisy; pitching myself, in all my speeches as the good guy with good intentions for present and future, while l fully intended to return to car-thievery, only successfully. l had
myself believing that the six-month board would give me a nearby release date
and l'd be busy shuttling near-new Caddys to chop shops within a few weeks.
From the perspective of ten minutes after my hearing though, the preceding
seemed to define "wild optimism". After the confession, l promised myself and my fellow members, that henceforth l would actually be the person that l had earlier only professed to be and specifically l would not intentionally break any
laws and l meant it. l have mostly succeeded, too: ln the late 60s l was actually
arrested for vehicle theft, but was released after police interviewed my neighbors who verified my explination of the vehicle being used by us. Later, in the 70s, l did violate a couple of court orders in the course of a divorce and l did
have a couple of marijuana possession beefs before California voters made
medical marijuana legal.
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