Hombre del Silencio: The Prison Diary of Ramon Labanino Part 8: High, medium, and low security prisons; The different prisons I have been in; Provocations; Cook for hire; The white priest; Friday, May 30, 2003;  Friday, June 6, 2003; Saturday, June 7, 2003

High, medium, and low security prisons

The outside part of the cell is what is called the yard or the camp out. It is the open area where you can sunbathe and walk around the yard, and it includes all the outside area, where you can move from one place to another, go from the living quarters to the dining room, or to the library. What most identifies the camp out is the recreation area, where the games are, they also offer you the possibility of practicing certain sports, especially handball, which is very economical, only has a high wall, and is played with a small ball that you hit with your hands. In some places racquets are used, but almost always you play with your hands.
In low- and medium-security prisons, personal possibilities improve.
In the maximum security ones they don’t let you do anything, you don’t even have visitors. They have a very high wall, which does not allow you to see outside, but when you go to a medium security one you find a normal fence, and there, at least, you have the possibility to see what is happening in the outside world.
In a maximum security prison it is a luxury to see the outside world. And then in the field out is where you feel relaxed, sit in the grass and cool off.
There are old prisons like the last one I was in, which is called Ashland, in Kentucky, where the space is quite large. One yard could cover well two or three miles. There is a soccer field, and they also play ball and basketball. In Kentucky it snows, so the outdoor yard is used when it is sunny, but when it snows the sport is played indoors.
In maximum security the movement regime is much stricter, every hour, starting at 7:30 a.m., you have only five minutes to move from one area to another, all areas are fenced, and some even have metal detectors at the entrances, to prevent the passage of knives or other metal structures that served as weapons.
In medium and low security prisons, movement is freer, you have no time limit to roam around the yard space. There are cells in low security that never close their doors, which allows you to leave your cell at any time of the day or night.
Obviously, the level of aggression, tension and fights is much higher in maximum security facilities.
It should be noted that there are Super Max prisons, super maximum security prisons, such as the one in Florence, Colorado. The cells are underground, have punishment regimes of five, ten and up to five years in a very small place, similar to a hole, whose only contact with the outside is a small television through which you not only watch programs, but read letters or publications that reach you, there is no family contact, and you have no companion.

The different prisons I have been in

The first prison I was in was in Miami, in the Federal Detention Center, and it happened at the time we were imprisoned, and that was in 1998 until 2002. There the five of us were in the hole for seventeen months, then we went to the general population to wait for the trial, on the seventh floor of the same building, for almost a year, until the trial was over and we were separated, first on different floors, and then in the different prisons.
In my case, from 2002 to 2008 I was in a prison in Texas called Beaumont. It was the most difficult time I spent. After 2008 Beaumont was closed, they downgraded it, and they sent me to a prison called McCreary, in Kentucky, which is also a maximum security penitentiary. I was there from 2008 until 2010, when I was resentenced.
For the resentencing we went back to Miami, because they had lowered the prison term, and from there I went back to U.S.P. McCreary very briefly, until they sent me to Jesup, Georgia, where I was from 2010 to 2012. I spent 2013 and 2014 in a low security prison, which is Ashland, Kentucky, and that was the last prison I suffered. From there I was transferred to Cuba.

Provocations

I am sure that throughout the time we were imprisoned we were approached by provocative people, who tried to involve us in shady business, because one of the ways to annoy the Five was to look for other causes to give us more time to be sentenced, to punish us more than anything else morally and politically.
I remember once, in Beaumont, Texas, a new neighbor came to me, a young, dark-haired American, quite sociable, who was said to be the head of the New York Mafia. One day he approached me saying that he was from the “New Black Panthers”, and with that excuse he began to make relations with me. The Five of us had friendships in the American left, and I immediately asked for information about this man: who he was and if he was really from the Black Panthers; then I found out that the individual was a provocateur, head of a group in New York, of a mafia that killed about seven people, they accused him of seven deaths, but he was a government informer, one of the ways to get time off his sentence was by approaching me, trying to get me involved in something, and that way they would reduce his sentence. That’s one way prisoners have, serving as witnesses in court, blaming others for murder, and duping prisoners who are important government targets.
It is evident that this guy approached me with that intention. I remember that at the beginning we became good friends, he said he admired Fidel and the Cuban Revolution, and so on. I really liked him at first, but he surprised me by being very aggressive. He always wanted to talk to me in the cell, which I didn’t like, and I tried to avoid him, because in the outside area there are many video cameras and they are watching what you do. He started saying that I was a leader, that as such I had to talk to the general population to rebel against the system, that we had to take over the prison; he told me that I had to go to the church to talk to the Muslims and incite them to be revolutionaries, and do actions inside the prison, he even questioned me if I was not thinking of escaping. What he was doing was trying to provoke me, I am sure he had a recording device. When I became aware of the matter I began to worry, if I fell into his game they could make a new case against me, so I told him no, that he was wrong. I explained to him that we political prisoners did not act that way, and I walked away from him. I had given him a very nice photo of Fidel with Malcolm X, from when Fidel was in New York. I did it thinking that the guy was a real revolutionary, and I also gave him a picture of Che and Camilo. There was a day when he told me to sit outside, but we were sitting in a place that was full of cameras, and I began to think that he was making a case, he wanted to have visual evidence that the conversation was being recorded, and I told him no, that’s why did he want us to talk outside, and we were in that place, and I told him that he wanted us to talk outside.
I hesitated, but realized he was hunting me.
After that, every time he said something to me I would reply and ask him: “What do you think we should do? And he answered me: No, I don’t do that, I am not here to make an uprising in this prison, nor to escape, if you want to do it, you do it.
In the end, a curious thing happened with this man. In prison there had been a murder of a brown American, he had seen it, and he was named in a lawsuit as a witness to it, and he was going to testify against another member of his mob in order to get years off his sentence. When the people in his group discovered this, they wanted to attack him, but he left first. He ended up working for the FBI inside the prison. That’s why his own mafia were going to give him a beating.

Cook for hire

I had a Dominican friend who was very nice. Typical Caribbean joker and partying type. I liked him, he arrived after me in Beaumont. After he found out who I was, he came to see me, because he admired Fidel. He told me that he could cook very well, and that he wanted to cook something for me from time to time. So we did, we got some things and he prepared a nice plate of chicken and rice.
In the middle of the conversation it occurred to me to ask him if he had little time left on his sentence, he told me no, that he would die in prison unless a miracle brought him back to the Dominican Republic. He had six life sentences plus forty-five years.
He was none other than a hit man living in New York City. That’s extraordinary! And I thought, now he’s cooking me!
He came to give me details of his job, how much he charged per task, that he did it better on weekends, especially on Sundays when people were resting and unconcerned at home, that he liked to work in the early hours of the morning. In total he killed six people and mutilated a seventh, which is why his sentence was so long.
The most interesting thing of all is that he told me that he was doing a good service to society, because the people he was killing were evil, thugs who sold drugs, stole, prostituted girls, in short, that he was helping to cleanse the city of bad people, and yet he had been given sentences that were too long for what he was doing.
All prisoners always find an excuse for their crimes, and claim that their sentences were abusive. Another new lesson.

The white priest

One of the things we missed in prison was being able to have an intelligent and articulate conversation with someone. There everything revolved around the crimes committed, the money spent on this or that, or on women, always women.
One day in Beaumont came a very serious and courteous gentleman, with a high general culture, and always clean and well presented in spite of his prison uniform. We made friends, talked a little about everything, politics, religion, art. After lunch we sat down from time to time to chat and discuss the news of the day.
Two months after his arrival at the prison, one morning, as soon as the cell doors were opened at 6:00 a.m., he ran out and went to the lieutenant’s office, urgently seeking protection, as he feared for his life, which we later learned.
The problem was that he was a priest in a church, and had been convicted of the rape of several children in his diocese, and his picture, with the full story, had been on the front page of the local newspaper that very morning. He took refuge in the hole.
Prisons do not accept rapists of children and women. Many of them are beaten severely or killed once they are discovered. They are called “chomo”, child molesters. On one occasion I saw a young man being dragged by the hair and thrown down the stairs amidst beatings and mistreatment. Because of how dangerous it is, even in the United States there are prisons only for this type of people, isolated from the rest of the prisoners, in order to avoid major conflicts.
On one occasion, in Beaumont prison itself, an officer circulated a list with the names of all the chomos in that place, including those who were collaborating with the government, and a notable increase in assaults and murders against them was noted.

Friday, May 30, 2003

During the morning, after work in the Laundry-room I went to the library to type the poem “I am not” to send it to our colleagues, and, there, when I left, at 10:30 a.m., I found out that about two hours ago they were looking for me (?) because I had a visitor; which really took me by surprise, and very pleasantly, by the way.
I had the joy and honor of meeting the esteemed Teresa Gutierrez, sister from New York, who came accompanied by Gloria Ruback, the other dear friend. Teresa is a humble, noble and tireless fighter for the rights of the American people, and for our cause; I was very pleasantly impressed by her sensitivity and combative spirit, and especially by her boundless love for Cuba.
It was a very emotional meeting, in which time was not felt, and just when we were most enthusiastic in the conversation, the visit ended at 3:00 p.m.
With compañeras like these, the Glorias and Teresas, and all the American brothers and sisters, every fight is possible, and every victory is certain.
They highly honor us with their dedication for Cuba, and for our cause.

Friday, June 6, 2003

I was waiting all morning for the visit of our dear Father Geoffrey Bottoms from England; and just at 12:00 noon when I was notified, there was a loud fight in the campout and the whole institution was closed.
Fortunately, at 1:30 p.m., we were back to normal, and I had the wonderful opportunity to meet the English father. He is an excellent and very sensitive person, who deeply loves Cuba and our cause. It was an honor to meet him and to have the privilege of sharing with him, and through him to send our greetings, appreciation and affection to the English people.
We will meet again tomorrow.

Saturday, June 7, 2003

The pleasant company of Father Geoffrey Bottoms, from 9:30 a.m. until 3:00 p.m., was the best and most beautiful thing of the day and in a long time. I think there is no problem in the world that we have not talked about and tried to solve. It is, without a doubt, a very high honor to have met him. Thank you and see you soon, dear Father! All the way for Cuba and England!