Doing Good

I miss Tara. Things are rough right now between us. I have been texting Joel about getting together at the Temple. We both need to go.

There is an inmate, lets call him Jeff. He seems typical. The first time I saw him he was throwing a fit over something stupid. Yelling and screaming at officers through his cell door. Later, he made it a point to apologize to the officers, including me.

Weeks later he threw a fit again. He made the Sgt. mad. He was moved to the dreaded section 4.

Concrete walls. Metal doors. Hollow. Empty. Echos. The inmates in section 4 are generally a needy bunch. They are possibly suicidal. Most are under protective custody. They can't live with other inmates. They crave attention. Officers have to check each inmate every 15 minutes. The sliding doors to the cells have a window. The windows have doors. We open the door and peak into the cell.

Last night was a typical bed-time for section 4. They all try to go to sleep. But one inmate, we'll call him Rapper, likes to sing everyone to sleep. He makes up rap songs. He does not have a good voice, so he screams his lyrics. He does, however, have rhythm. He bangs on the walls and door. It is very obnoxious. Telling him to quit does not help. Writing him up does not help. So I ignore him. The other inmates do not. They yell at him. They curse at him. They try to drown him out. It is vulgar, and chaotic. My turn sitting in the section lasts 2 1/2 hours. I am lucky if there is peace for 20 minutes of my time.

I was doing a routine check. Jeff catches me at his window and wants to talk. He asks me to get him a 'Hooder magazine'. I don't know what he means. Pornography is not allowed in the prison. Other sections with higher privileges can order 'risky magazines', but not section 4. He presses me to 'do him a solid'. It is lonely and he misses his girl. Can't I just get him a Maxim?
I politely told him no. I turned to close his window and leave when he asked me to wait a minute. He ruffled through his belongings. He came back with an envelope. He shoved it under the door and said, "Check that out". I opened the envelope to find a sample sheet of risky magazine covers. It was not pornographic enough to confiscate, and I didn't look any longer than to realize what it was. I closed his envelope and shoved it back under the door. My reaction was not what he expected. "You can't tell me that isn't nice!" I gave him a half smile with a shake of my head, as if to say, "Whatever". I again turned to go. He said, "You must be married, huh. Your wife, is she hot?" He nodded at my ring on my finger.
He caught me off guard.
I had been upset with Tara all day long. Now, this 'piece of work, Jeff', is asking about my marriage. I smiled at him. "Of course she is hot." I shut his window. A flood of emotion hit me. I really do love her.

Tonight, section 4 was just as chaotic. As I passed for my first check, Jeff waved for me to stop and talk. He quickly apologized for his behavior the night before. He could tell I didn't appreciate his envelope and he was sorry. Now he was asking me for some books. He turned on the sob story about boredom and could I please check the book box and leave something for him to read. As I said yes, I glanced over his shoulder into his cell. I noticed a new triple combination sitting on his desk. I pointed to it and said, "Why don't you read that?" I smiled and turned to go.

I find it fairly easy to tune out the chaos and focus on my personal book. But tonight I felt a nagging that I should get Jeff a book. I walked to the book bin and pulled out a handful of torn and beat up books. There were bibles, Books of Mormon, Self-help books. The picking was slim. I found a Harry Potter. I grabbed a Work and Glory. I added Believing Christ to the stack. I took them on my next round. Jeff was grateful. His demeanor seemed sincere. He handed me a note and said thanks. I closed his window. I finished my rounds. I sat back at my desk and opened his note.
"Officer Robertson, Thank you for your example. It would mean a lot to me if you could include my name on the Temple prayer list next time you go. I always will have a strong personal testimony. May the Lord bless you."
I know this encounter was no mere coincidence. As I did my next round and peaked in Jeff's cell, he was sitting reverently on his bunk with his triple combination open. I will attend the temple with Joel, soon. I will include Jeff's real name on the prayer list. Tara's name will be there too.

I am thankful to my Heavenly Father for letting me feel the spirit so strongly, even amongst the chaos of section 4. I can do good here in prison. The gospel is true. It is for everyone.