By Joshua Ryan
So, off the boat, and a few comments from fellow passengers — “Enjoying your vacation?” “How’s your day goin?” “Have a good time, losers!” Too bad — those guys had to stay in some hotel on Water Street, but I was going to prison! Then the ride through town and up the mountain — big deal; I’d been there! But coming to that fence again, the fence that separated prison property from everything else — that was major! When I was a little rich boy with a spotless record, they wouldn’t let me through the gate; now that I was a criminal being taken to his place of punishment, no problem — come on in! Welcome to the nation’s most exclusive country club!
So the gate opened and the van rolled in, and it seemed like right away — there it was! The big house, the end of the road, the concrete mama, the consequence of my crimes, the place where I’d be spending the rest of my life! I can’t pretend about this — when I first saw it, I thought, “What have I done?” I’d felt small when I was sitting on the deck, getting yucks from those college kids. How small did I feel when I saw this place with a wall that was 30 feet high! I’d wanted to go to prison … Did I want to go THERE?
Answer: Oh yeah.
