My 38 Years in the Chain Gang

It is a different world inside those fences.  It is hard to believe when you see all 450 of these young men, and not a single one has a penny in his pocket.  Money was contraband at ACI.  Any caught with cash money, the money was taken and deposited in the inmates’ canteen fund or the revolving fund.  The way the system worked, was that each inmate had a bank account, and money received by the institution for the inmates’ use was put into his checking account.  The inmate canteen started with two cases of cokes and grew from that to a multi-thousand dollar business a week.  The canteen purchased food, drinks, and various approved items, and sold them to inmates at approximately 20% markup.  The profit at that time when I started my career was put into the inmate welfare fund.  It was welfare, such as musical instruments, ball gloves, bats, and things to entertain inmates during their off -duty time.

Now, this is where the catch comes in.  How does the inmate purchase the items out of the canteen: if they had money in their account in the bank, the education department printed checks for them just like in the outside world.  It is the inmate’s responsibility to keep up with the amount he has in his account.  The canteen is open right after work at 5:00 p.m. until all who want to spend have had at least one chance.  There is a limit of $5.00 per week for each inmate.  Things went pretty well for a while with the honor system.  I knew it couldn’t last.  Before long, we were getting 4-6 bogus checks a day.  Someone smarter than I suggested that we require each inmate to write his check at the time of purchase at the canteen in front of the officer in charge of the canteen, and put his thumbprint of his right hand with black ink on his check.  That worked for a while, no bogus checks.  Then one day, the canteen accountant said, “We got a forgery.”  The purchasing agent said, “Do you have a print?”  “Oh yeah.” was the reply. “Let’s send it to Tallahassee and get it identified.”  We did, and received a call from the laboratory in Tallahassee with a question, “What are you guys trying to pull over there?  This is not a thumbprint.  It is a toe print of a big toe on a left foot.  The only way I could identify it would be for you to send me the print of every man’s left big toe.”  Well, the superintendent had gotten in on it by now, and he said, “Do it.  I want that man.”  Well, we started eliminating all the men that could not have been at the canteen the night before.  Some were on duty, some sick, some not eligible.  We wound up with about 150 men we needed to print.  We got started on them, bringing them in one at a time to the purchasing agent’s office, and making them pull off their left shoe and sock, putting their big toe print on half a sheet of typing paper with their name.  We had only gotten about 25 done when an inmate came in and was told to take off his left shoe and sock.  He said, “No, that won’t be necessary.  I did it.  I never knew you guys would be so chincey over a mere $5.00.”  I said, “The amount was not that important, but you have committed a felony because our inmate bank is certified.”  It sounded good, but I really didn’t know whether we were certified or not.  I said, “Tell me how you got your shoe and sock off and put your foot up on the counter without the officer seeing you?”  He said, “I knew the prices of everything, so I chose the items to total $5.00.  I wrote a check for $5.00 on the second check in my checkbook leaving the top one blank, took a magic marker and put ink on my big toe, and placed a print on the second check.  When I ordered all I was going to get, it amounted to $5.00, and the officer told me to make a check for $5.00.  I put a thumbprint on the first check, picked up my checkbook and tore out the second check so slick that the officer didn’t notice that I gave him a toe-printed check.” 

They carried the inmate to court, and he pled guilty.  The judge in Marianna gave him three additional years for forgery and passing a bad check.  Anyway, he was no longer a first offender, and was transferred back to Raiford State Prison. 

I learned early that inmates have different beliefs than we officers do.  One day I walked back through the warehouse.  I always wore shoes with rubber soles so I could walk quietly.  As I rounded the corner, I saw movement on top of a bunch of cases of Corn Flakes.  I eased on around and looked up and there was an inmate with an individual box of