Book Excerpt - Part Two: Drugs & Prison
Drugs & Prison - RIKER’S ISLAND
In the meantime Allan was off to jail for stealing a pair of pants from Klein’s Department Store on 14th Street in Manhattan. At the time the flavor of the month was Pen-Bids for first time misdemeanor offenses. A Pen-Bid was a 3-year sentence where you were expected to find God and return to society, repentant, never to sin again.
Pen-Bid was the name of the cat. He prowled the halls of the dormitories in Riker’s Island like a king visiting every corner of his domain. Each morning when the adolescent inmates went to chow, they would see the remnants of his night of hunting. Everyone loved Pen-Bit because his killing was a public service. He helped keep the island sanitary. He was named after the beloved pen-bit, the three-year sentence some social genius thought would rehabilitate kids who were beginning to get involved in minor criminal acts. Instead it had the opposite effect. All the local criminal court judges embraced this faulty in-vogue concept and sentenced first offenders to serve three years in Riker’s Island for minor crimes like shoplifting, possession of small amounts of marijuana, and loitering. Allan was one of those unlucky kids.
At sixteen he was arrested for shoplifting a pair of pants from Klein’s Department Store on 14th – Street in Manhattan and sentenced to serve three years in prison. While he was serving this sentence – he was paroled after serving one year -- he met a group of guys that would help shape his future by teaching him about racism, crime and heroin. It took 20 years to overcome these institutional lessons taught to him as part of his rehabilitation.
Allan arrived at Riker’s Island in 1956. He was led into a large room with other newly sentenced inmates. First, they were stripped of their clothing and all their personal belongings were taken away from them. Clothing was packed in a brown box sealed and returned again once the sentence was completed. Personal items, like wallets, watches, belts and jewelry were itemized on a manila envelope which was sealed after the inmate signed a receipt form which was given to him so that the seized items could be redeemed once the inmate was released. Naked they were herded into another room like cattle, sprayed for lice and showered. After the showers their body cavities were searched for contraband. The typical drill for the contraband search was: Open your mouth and lift your tongue. Run your hands through your hair. Raise your arms -- so armpits could be inspected -- lift your balls, bend over and spread your cheeks. Then, they were given an inmate number to identify themselves with. His number was 19126. His number, not his name was used to identify him whenever he spoke to staff. When his name was called for visits, mail call or sick call he would respond by yelling out 19126. Only his friends called him Al or Allan.
Once they were processed, they were herded into another room where inmate workers issued over-sized prison garb to wear during their stay at the institution. Once dressed the inmates were led into another room where a higher-ranking officer, either a sergeant or a captain warned them about the consequences of breaking the rules: you fuck up while you’re here and you can expect to serve time in the Bing (a slang term for segregation) where, if the offense is serious enough, you are stripped down to your shorts and tee shirt, held in total isolation for 24 hours a day and fed bread and water three times a day. A fight with another inmate would result in two or three weeks of Bing time. Then, he and all the other adolescents were escorted to the dormitories where the younger inmates were housed.
The dormitories were four rectangular-like structures, each one accommodating up to 120 kids ranging in age from 16 to 18 years old. The main area of the structure, generally the center, had a series of beds arranged in long rows that extended the length of the dorm. Each dorm had six rows of beds that the inmates managed to organize in a way that segregated each ethnic group from the other. Each group controlled their own zones. Uninvited trespassers would pay serious consequences. The prison population consisted mainly of White, Black and Spanish inmates. The term Hispanic didn’t come into vogue until many years later. When a new inmate entered the dorm representatives from each ethnic group would approach their respective targets talk to them and evaluate whether or not to invite them into their zones. Often, new inmates knew exactly where they would bunk because they had lots of friends already established in each dorm. Once invited into a group you immediately reaped the rewards of gang loyalty. This included sharing contraband, cigarettes, coffee, clothing and reading material. Items of contraband might include food (stolen from the kitchen), drugs (typically heroin or marijuana), a homemade knife, pornography or home brewed alcohol. The group also served to insulate and protect each other from outsiders. Inmates that were not selected into a group took bunks in the middle of the dorm, surrounded by the hostility of the outsiders. Occasionally, a group member was expelled and lived in exile along with the outcasts who slept in the middle of the dorm. Ironically, this outcast group was integrated while all the other groups were completely segregated. This outcast group of inmates was fair game for theft, sexual exploitation and physical abuse. They lived in constant fear. The segregated groups respected each other in a sick sort of way. They would not trespass into zones unoccupied by their peers unless invited into a zone by a zone member. A breach of these rules resulted in gang fights that were often quite brutal.
As Allan and two other adolescents entered the dormitory they were approached and greeted by the officer in charge. His name was Mr. Smith, affectionately called Smitty by all the inmates. Smithy was a black, athletic looking, tough, street-smart correction officer or “co” as they were commonly called. He looked and acted like a marine drill-sergeant.
“Hi, my name is Mr. Smith or Smitty, whichever works best for you,” he began. “This is my dorm. You just live here until I decide you can’t live here anymore. If you behave yourself, you’ll do good time here. I have certain inflexible rules that must be followed. There are no exceptions. Whenever someone violates these rules it is my practice to demand payment. Payment is generally satisfied by the number of pushups I demand for whatever infraction I decide you are guilty of. There is no appeal if I decide you broke one of my rules. Some of you guys will get all bulked up before you check out of this hotel because I’ll be on your case like white on cotton. Or, black on coal, whichever works best for you. Don’t even think about not paying off when I demand payment. The consequences are too frightening to even think about. Look around the dorm and find an empty bunk to sleep in. Work out the details regarding who sleeps on the top and who sleeps on the bottom bunk. Put your personal property, like cigarettes, coffee and other commissary items in your locker located at the foot of your bunk. My assistant will give each of you a combination lock to secure your personal property. If that lock is used for anything other than to secure your locker, I can promise you, you will be very sorry. Go get settled in.”
Allan soon grew to love and respect Smitty. He was fair, color blind and consistent. He treated everyone with respect. In return everyone respected him. Years later Allan would work for him in the prison library with his friend Tony Arrighi, who became one of his closest lifetime friends.
Two neighborhood friends, Matthew Murtaugh a/k/a ”Junior”, and Tony Francos, a/k/a “Tony the Greek” quickly approached Allan as he walked into the housing area. They both had huge smiles on their faces.[1]
“We’ve been waiting for you,” Tony said. “Follow me we already have your spot set up.”
“Here are some smokes to hold you until you go to commissary,” Jr. said as he handed Allan a carton of Camels.
They led him to the back of the dorm where about 15-other white-boys congregated, some around a table playing cards, others lying on their respective bunks reading or staring into space. He wondered how they knew he had arrived at the prison, but he soon learned that the prison grapevine traveled faster than the telephone. As soon as he got off the bus in the reception center Tony and Junior knew he was on his way to the dorm. Along the back wall was an empty bunk with a set of sheets and blankets folded neatly on the bedsprings.
“Make your bed and settle in,” Jr. said. “Greek is on one side of you and I’m on the other. As soon as you settle in we’ll introduce you to the other guy’s in the tip. The white boys from our tip are called “good boys”. When they call for chow, make sure you line up with us at the end of the line. That’s our spot. The niggers go first, the spic’s are in the middle. Between the spics and the niggers are the misfits, creeps, stool pigeons and fags. Don’t ever get in line out of sequence and don’t ever let anyone get between you and your tip. Anyone fucks with the rules and you go up on them. Don’t worry about anything. If anything goes wrong and you get into a fight, we got your back so don’t worry about anyone jumping in. If you need a shank let me, or Tony know. We have plenty of them nearby just in case. You only use a shank if the guy is beating you. The only rule here is, you’ve got to win, winning prevents future problems and teaches inmates to respect you.”
Allan quickly processed the information, waiting for his first opportunity to prove himself. He didn’t have to wait long.
[1] ) In 1974 Tony the Greek would kill Richey Belello at Clinton Correctional Facility for snitching on the Attica uprising leaders during the Attica Prison riot in 1972 where 10 hostages and 29 inmates were slaughtered by prison guards retaking the institution.
