Being Released.....Part 1

I had a dream last night. It wasn't a bad dream.... and actually it was a pretty good one. The dream in question took me back to a time in 2005 when I was grateful just to be able to walk down the street. When I felt blessed just to watch the sun rise, to open my door and walk out, to speak whenever and to whoever I wanted. When $40 in my pocket and a duffle bag of 12 year old clothing was living large. When NY City felt like a brand new town to me.

It all came back to me this morning..... April 20, 2005. 11 pm. B block, 21 cell. "Lock in, lights out". The last time I was going to hear those words. My cell door slowly closed with a squeal and a loud clang. Locked in. Safe. I made it. The next time these bars open I'll be walking to the draft room to put on my new street clothes my Mom sent. Then to ID. for a new picture so the Parole Officer in NYC will recognize me. Finally, the long walk down the tunnel to the gate where I sign my release papers, get my $40 release money and a bus ticket home. In the old days they promised slaves $40 and a mule. For released cons it's $40 and a bus ticket.

Funny, every con knows the release procedures. Every con, whether in for 5 years or forever fantasizes about taking that long walk to the front gate.... and then having it open. We all imagine what it's going to feel like, what we are going to say to the guards on the way out, what that sweet free air is going to taste like but to actually do it. For it to actually happen to you..to me. I was not prepared for the moment. It came and went.

at 6:45am. April 21, 2005 my gate opened for the last time. Mine was the only gate that opened. They allowed the soon to be released con a one time safe passage to draft by leaving all the other cons locked in while I passed lest a jealous one try to stick something sharp in me. Yes, these things happen. "Mocha, Draft"!!! No good luck, no see ya around. It was as if the guard was jealous that I was leaving and he had to stay. Go figure. I started down the corridor as if in a daze. Everything went as planned and before I knew it I was standing in front of the prison waiting for a ride to the bus station. Outside. Without shackles. A completely new perspective.

The driver, a State employee, pulled the van to the curb, opened the door and said "get in". We drove to town in silence, he driving and me looking out of the window wide eyed, my heart pounding and my hands shaking. "So this is what freedom looks like" I thought. Actually, I didn't know what to think. It was all so new to me. It was wonderous, joyous, terrifying. The driver only spoke 4 words to me the whole 20 minute trip.... and he spoke the last two as he pulled up to the Elmira bus station. "Get out" he barked. And so I did. And then he pulled away leaving a very nervous and shaky ex-con standing on the sidewalk all by himself for the first time in so very long.

....more to come....