I arrived at the camp and waltzed into a private room with my brother and roommates, Artie and Lance. We were on the third floor of B-unit, overlooking the ball field and groves of pine and eucalyptus. Robbin had everything set up for me. He showed up in the middle of my check-in and immediately started harassing the guard (aka “hack”) in the good natured manner at which he excels.
Posts tagged as “prison”
A concrete stairwell provided an interesting place for me to play my guitar, an old Martin that belonged to a good friend, Harry Jackson, who…
Dear Editor: The man in the cell next to mine hung himself yesterday. I knew him for almost four years. He had what I have:…
PLUG-PULLINGS Dear Editor: Bear Kamoroff is confused (Letters, April 13), and not just about the location of the Lookouts’ [Livermore’s band] first encounter with Piano…
After Paul Goodman’s death in 1972 anarchist historian George Woodcock characterized him as perhaps “the only truly seminal libertarian thinker in our generation.” If we…
Editor, Dateline San Quentin State prison, South block, Alpine section, entry 2: Play now, Pay later. Picking up the pieces one day at a time.…
Many Americans labor under the mistaken belief that our legal system functions effectively and fairly. They have confidence in and respect for court personnel, including…
Dear AVA, This is Mr. Gutmann, "The One and Only!" You might remember me from an article you published a while back titled "Something Nice"…
It was a snowy day in Boston which could mean any day from October to May. That's just the way it is in the East,…