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Random Wichita Falls Allred Unit Snippets
Contributors: CO5 (retired in 2012) Mitch "Miscount" Murray and Offender Porter J. Hall. Tune in to the Allred Unit at 153.815 MHz on your scanner radio. This is a work in progress and reflects conditions in 2012. Tune in to Allred Unit operations at 153.815 MHz on your scanner radio. Although the Allred Unit has an Iowa Park, Texas, mailing address, it is located within the city limits of Wichita Falls. At the time the City of Wichita Falls acquired that land, it was serviced by the Iowa Park Post Office. That did not change.
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I was working outside the 3/4 chow hall for the evening meal. An offender, exiting the chow hall, drops a full pack of tortillas from his shirt onto the ground. He knows I saw it, so he picks it up, brings it to me, and hands me his ID card. I jot down his info and nod toward his building. Not a word was spoken. He knows a disciplinary case, with his name on it, will arrive soon. But which kitchen worker slipped him the tortillas right under the the noses of two bosses, the one working the floor and the one behind the serving line?
Just about everything that moves or happens at the Allred Unit does so according to a master schedule that runs from midnight to midnight. This master schedule indicates when the nine counts are to be conducted (although eight counts are required by TDCJ, the Allred unit conducts nine). It also outlines when offenders attend chow, recreation, church, school, work, and various other events, too numerous to mention. This master schedule can be found in the Post Orders book at each duty post.
A Correctional Officer working outside 7 & 8 chow halls turned around to see an offender, who had just left the Infirmary, standing at the gate. The officer said, "You should have said something." The offender responds with, "I'm serving three life sentences, I'm in no hurry."
Between my two tours of duty at the Allred Unit, I worked at the Wichita County Jail for 6 months. I wanted to say that I have worked in the Criminal Justice system at the city, county, state, and federal levels, and working at the county level would take care of that. At the "Sprague" annex, we had four or five new arrivals lined up, trading their civilian clothes for a jailhouse uniform and receiving a rules briefing. I noticed one man had a "Vietnam Veteran" hat. I asked him if he was indeed a Vietnam vet, and he replied that he was. I said, "Thank you for your service to our country." He looked stunned for a second, and then said, "Thank you." I have no doubt that he wasn't ready for such a comment from someone processing him into the Annex. While no longer at the former Sprague building, jail operations can still be heard at 155.520 MHz on your scanner.
I had the pleasure of working at the James V. Allred Unit, specifically at the Burger King Gate, also known as the O-M Gate. The O-M gate sits in front of the ODR (Officer's Dining Room). Apparently, it was formerly known as the Officer's Mess, hence the name O-M Gate. I think the former name was more appropriate! Anyway, I could hardly get my work done because of taking breakfast orders on the phone. Ring-Ring: "This is Officer Obnoxious, I'm sending an SSI (Support Services Inmate - Translation: Janitor) over there. Can you fix me and Sgt. SharpShank up with four egg and cheese sandwiches and two coffees"? Ring-Ring: This is Corporal Crotchpheasant. Will you get us a pitcher of juice? I'm sending an SSI over there to get it". Ring-Ring: "Hey, what are they serving today in the ODR? Ring-Ring: "Hey, look inside the ODR and see if Capt. Hardcore is in there." Ring-Ring: “This is Offender Porter J. Hall. Have someone fix me up two “johnnies”, and be quick about it!” Okay, Porter J. Hall didn't call, but everyone else did!
The intercom system used by the Allred Unit is of the “Stentofon” brand. A silly game that pops up every now and then has a person in the control picket on one pod calling the officer in the control picket on a different pod and telling them to send a certain offender. You don’t need to know a name, just a house number such as 17 Top, or 22 Bottom. So, the victim officer has his floor boss get the offender out of his cell and send him down to the building desk to see what the Sergeant or Desk Boss wants. The Sergeant or Desk Boss says, “We didn’t call for you. Go back to your house.” So, you have a pissed off offender, and after a few episodes, a few pissed off bosses. It was funny the first time it happened to me, but once was enough!
It was a weekend. An offender arrived at the Infirmary claiming some type of heart trouble. He was placed in the holding cage. The Infirmary officer stepped out of the room, but returned within a minute to find Offender Chest Pain standing on the bench seat, facing the law library, and masturbating for the edification and non-enjoyment of all who could see him. After halting that exhibition, the Infirmary officer consulted the nurse on duty, who opined that his heart seemed to be fine. He was sent back to his building with a disciplinary case.
I received a compliment from a co-worker the other day. He asked if my shoes were "patent leather". I replied that they were not. They were just cheap $30 Walmart shoes, attended to with a cotton ball, polish, and water. Upon hearing this, he said, "Man, they look like patent leather". More than one visitor asked me what branch of service I had been in, after looking at my shoes. A funny thing is that I get more comments on my shoes from offenders than I do from bosses. No, I don't solicit compliments from offenders, but what are you going to do?
I ran into a guy at Walmart who said he used to be an Allred Unit Correctional Officer some years back and had just reapplied. He said he didn't want to work in General Population, but rather Administrative Segregation or the Expansion Cellblock, (ECB or "high security"). He said he felt safer there because the offenders "can't get to you." I saw him at the Allred Unit several months later and he wasn't smiling. He had been assigned to General Population. Oh well, he'll get used to it . . . if they don't get him!
An offender from one side of the farm makes it to the other side and is later found inside a cell with a “friend”. The problem is that, based on the color of his armband, this inmate should not have been able to go through the gates he did to accomplish this task. So, in order to “cover” the officers at those gates, some enterprising officers engineered an armband of the required color to be worn on the building where the offender was found. The armband was broken, taped back together, and placed with the disciplinary case, which suggested that the offender somehow acquired the contraband armband and was wearing it when he passed through the gates that he normally would not have been allowed to pass through.
Frequently heard on the radio at Allred Unit: Sergeant Slick to 4-Building Desk, clear your line. Apparently, Sergeant Slick has been trying to reach the 4-Building Desk by phone, but the line has been busy. But, how does Sergeant Slick know that the 4-Building Desk Boss isn't on the phone with Lieutenant Lardbutt or Captain Crotchpheasant?
One of the General Population commissaries was in the process of being restocked, and various items were stacked outside the door. A passing Correctional Officer picked up a six-pack of Coke and took it to his assigned building. An offender waved over a supervisor and told him the story. Within the hour, the officer was looking for another job.
I was working 13-Building, the main entrance building to the Allred Unit. A Catholic Deacon, Brother, or whatever they were called, came though with some communion hosts. I told him those reminded me of my Altar Boy days. He asked, "Did you drink the wine?" I answered, "Who, me? "A few years later he was found guilty of child sexual assault. He died a few years after that.
Sometimes I think there is a special person running around the Allred Unit looking for something going on that doesn’t have a state form assigned to document that activity. When they locate the missing and much-needed form, they submit that information to Huntsville, using a specially designed form for the occasion. The Texas Department of Criminal Justice, specifically the James V. Allred Unit, generates more paper than any place I’ve ever seen, and I’ve worked for some paper-generating agencies before!
In the Administrative Segregation building, an inmate was close enough to a "use of force" that he got a good dose of chemical agents. In his written grievance, he complained that he was choking so bad he could "holly breed."
The Texas Department of Criminal Justice has a few recruiting ads playing on local television. One ad shows nothing about the daily life of a TDCJ Correctional Officer. This ad looks more like a "bait and switch" scheme to me. They make it look like all you do is walk around, greet other officers, pick up some paperwork, etc. Are they afraid it would scare away prospects? What you end up with is people quitting after a few months. But then, some people go through the academy to get 6 weeks' pay with no intention of staying on to do the job.
An Allred Unit Correctional Officer reports that the food cart holding the food trays for the Infirmary was always loaded with tiny roaches. Every day, without fail, when he worked that position. He did report it. Roaches are not limited to the Allred Unit. Flip the kitchen lights on at 3:00 AM (such as you might do on a burglar alarm) at your favorite eatery and you might be surprised.
A new officer was working at 7-8 Gate. This gate controls foot traffic from both 7-Building and 8-Building. 8-Building is, in my opinion, occupied by offenders either coming from the Expansion Cellblock, the real D-Hall, nicknamed "High Security", or headed to ECB after their next disciplinary stunt. One day, this new officer was seen, with his arm at his side, throwing up gang signs, looking for any response. He was reported, and he soon vanished from the unit. At Allred, the number comes before the building in case that's all you can say before that radio is slapped out of your hand. There are buildings everywhere, but only one 8, etc.
Extortion Rat - On one or more walls, in and around every building on the Allred Unit, is a printed warning to offenders about the consequences of extorting other offenders. Along with this warning is a painting of a large rat wearing a “burglar” mask and carrying a sack of what I assume are the “fruits of extortion” thrown over its shoulder. Each and every one of these rats is wearing red house shoes. Now, there’s a story behind the red house shoes. The problem is that I don’t know what the story is. I’ve asked around but haven’t got a firm, convincing answer on the issue. My investigation continues.
t was a class on the AR-15 rifle in the Allred Unit pre-service academy. Someone in the class asked what gas-operated meant. The instructor, a Sergeant of Correctional Officers, didn't know. I, a recruit, or "new boot" as they say in TDCJ lingo, had to help him out. I also had to show them how to “combat load” a shotgun. They had that process all messed up, changing hands with the weapon unnecessarily.
I was working 7 - 8 Gate. Offenders were returning from chow. From a distance, all I could hear was “mumble mumble mumble”, but just as two of them went by me, I heard one ask the other: “Did they get your prints off of the gun?” Then it was “mumble mumble mumble” again as they got out of hearing range. Hey, no talking in the hallway.
A visitor seemed “miffed” that we would question the appropriateness of her daughter’s clothing. She informed us that she had just left another prison where her daughter’s outfit was “ok”. She informed us that she had a husband in one prison and a son in our prison, had been visiting prisons for over 20 years, and was familiar with the rules. She seemed proud of this. I’m sure the state will need to have a cell ready for the daughter because she doesn’t have a chance.
I don't know which is worse, working a gate when it's 10 degrees outside and the doghouse has a heater you couldn't burn your finger on, or the same gate when it's 100 degrees outside and you couldn't buy a breeze for a million bucks.
Cadillac Haircuts - Sometimes I just sit back and observe the goings-on in the offender's barber shop. These barbers give most other offenders, and especially their “homeboys,” treatment that would cost you and me big bucks out in the free world. I mean, these guys will spend half an hour or more fine-tuning a haircut to the customer’s exact specifications. I’ll watch the offender-customer get up, look in the mirror (made of shiny metal - sorry, no hand mirrors), point to a spot on his head, return to the chair, and have the bad spot attended to. This might happen a half a dozen times or so. Oh well, they don’t have a lot to keep them entertained - a little TV, a trip to the commissary, and a haircut every week or so.
The cleanliness of the offenders working on the serving line in the Officer's Dining Room sometimes left a lot to be desired. If they were serving hot dogs, for example, the offender would build you one with his bare hands. Not a plastic glove was seen by me in the several years I was there. Who knows if there was an “Employees Must Wash Hands” sign in the restroom? It wouldn’t matter if there were, since not too many offenders were locked up for being rule “followers”. Reports of a mouse crawling around on the potato salad, a mouse face in a pork patty, roaches galore, and other dining horrors were nothing new to old timers. My suggestion: bring a sandwich or two. You’ll enjoy it a lot more and have more peace of mind.
Homemade Speakers - Sound like a Bose. Well, almost. Offenders are not allowed to have speakers. The radios they are allowed to have can only be enjoyed with headphones. So, when you walk into a section and hear music, you know you’ve got a contraband bust. Contraband is described as anything not allowed by TDCJ rules, not available in the commissary, or any authorized item that has been altered and presents a risk to security.
Cheap Haircut and Shoe Shine. For a small monthly fee, you can get your hair cut and shoes shined. I never used this service. I took pride in shining my own shoes to a mirror gloss. To have an offender take any credit for it was unthinkable. I’ve seen officers come in on their days off to take a pair of shoes to have them offender-shined. I have to believe that this is not a good management of off-duty time. Why not just stay home and shine the shoes? It can’t possibly take longer or cost more than bringing them to the unit to have it done. As for the haircuts, I always enjoy getting my hair cut. It’s like a massage. How on earth can I sit back and enjoy a massage from an offender? Just can’t happen. It’s not that I think he’s going to cut my throat, it’s because it’s just not “right“. So I gladly pay the barber at my favorite “free world” barber shop.
I was working the Highway Gate at the entrance to the unit. A food service boss rolled up and asked what “card” was on today. The shifts are divided into two “cards”. 1-Card works four consecutive 12-hour days, while 2-Card is off for four days. I informed him that “1-Card” was on duty. He said, “Thank God - Hallelujah!” and drove off. I later learned that, for various reasons, most Monday through Friday, 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. staff had a more pleasant day when 1-Card was on duty.
I was listening to the Allred Unit on my scanner when I was reminded of the time an offender janitor (SSI) was busted for fishing disciplinary cases out of the night drop box and selling them back to the offenders named therein.
One of the things I definitely did not like was the way some supervisors addressed the shift. If there was a problem of some sort, it was not uncommon for a supervisor to “quiz” the shift in a manner that reminded me of how a teacher talks to a very young class. “Do we let offenders walk around the dayroom with no shoes?‘’ And the shift obediently says “Nooooo”, just like kids. Well, I guess if we’re going to act like kids they ought to treat us that way. Of course I never answered up to those silly questions. I think this technique shows a “high disregard” for your subordinates, to borrow a phrase from the late President Lyndon Johnson. If you have something to gripe about, then gripe about it.
PB & J Caper - Offender comes out of 4-Chowhall, and his eyes lock onto mine from the start. That’s a dead giveaway that he’s up to something. I pull him over and pat-search him. He’s got a cup full of peanut butter and about half a loaf of bread under his shirt. Sorry, dude, it’s all mine now, and this disciplinary case is yours! Not so much for the peanut butter but for stupidly drawing my attention to the peanut butter.
Whenever I worked one of the gun towers, I would sometimes imagine what I would do if someone attempted to land a helicopter inside the fence to extract an inmate. Would I wait for the helicopter to take off and cross over the fence before firing? There would probably be other inmates on the ground to consider. What about buildings and cars in the area? Would I aim for the pilot? Would the tail (anti-torque) rotor be better? Knock out the tail rotor, and that flight will end. I think I'd just aim for the inmate since deadly force is authorized to prevent an escape. The pilot would be collateral damage. You know, the old "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" theory. If you're familiar with the skin on small aircraft, you'd know it's not stopping an AR-15 round at close range, and no sparking bullets!
Central Control on Visitation Days - All General Population visitors come through the unit’s Central Control station. They come in through one door, which must close before the door to the visitation room is opened. I saw one lady, who must have been on her first visit to the unit, practically jump out of her shoes when the big steel door slammed shut behind her. Welcome to prison!
Two Allred Unit cooks (offenders) got into a fistfight over who made the best biscuits. Yep, it happened. In my opinion, the biscuits were nothing to fight about. The cake, on the other hand, was delicious!
All cells at the Allred Unit come equipped with a toilet, washing machine, drink cooler, and garbage disposal. Never mind that they all look like toilets. I could add "hot pot" because one Correctional Officer reported that an inmate used a homemade stinger to heat water in the toilet to cook ramen noodles.
If you fall asleep at the wheel of the Roving Patrol vehicle at the James V. Allred Unit prison, and hit two employee cars in the parking lot, you might receive this award at turnout the next day! One was also placed in the vehicle.
It was visitation time. One offender's time was up, and he told his young visitor - around five or six years old - that it was time for him to go back home. The kid says, "And it's time for you to go back to jail!" Light laughter erupted in the room. The offender, with a slightly embarrassed look, says "Yes, and it's time for you to stay out of jail!"
A Correctional Officer realized - on his drive home - that he had resigned without having to submit a letter. No letter was needed because he had left 4 marijuana joints on the desk in the gun tower he had just vacated.
Before TDCJ Correctional Officers switched to the new "golf shirt and cargo pants" uniform, they wore a more military-like gray uniform of standard pants and a button-up shirt. These items were not "permanent press" as some might have believed. During this period of my stint at Allred, I have never seen so many employees show up for work DWI. No, not the drunk kind, I mean the "dressing without an iron" kind. They didn't give a damn how they looked. One officer came to work with his pin-on name tag at a 45 degree angle. This tragedy was compounded by the fact that the laundry service on the unit was free. Drop them off when you get to work, and pick them up when you leave.
It was the notorious 8-Building and time for offenders to rack up. An older Correctional Officer entered a section dayroom and gave the order to rack up. All offenders but one began picking up their belongings. One offender told the boss, "I'm not racking up." The boss says "Yep, you're gonna rack up like everybody else." The offender says "Nope. You're gonna have to call the goon squad." The boss says "You're looking at the goon squad, with wrinkles." The offender laughs and goes to his house.
From C-Tower, one can look out over the field where the Allred Unit horses roam and graze. The field is bordered by Reilly Road on the north side of the unit. One day, a horse and rider came trotting down the road, next to the fence. A small herd of Allred horses ran over to the fence and trotted alongside the free world horse for as long as they could. I could just hear the “horse talk” going on about conditions out in the free world, as well as the free world horse wanting to know what it was like to be locked up!
It was firearms qualification during annual In-Service Training at the Allred Unit. At the gun range, two instructors were trying to show a Correctional Officer how to hold the AR-15 so that he could get a proper sight picture. The officer appeared to have no clue at all. Instructors had to move his hands to the proper position on the weapon. For those unfamiliar, this is not the pre-service academy where new hires are trained. This is yearly training for officers already employed. This particular officer had been employed at the Allred Unit for several years. I wondered how he even made it through the pre-service academy. I think the agency relaxes its performance expectations during serious low-staffing periods. This particular officer could not and did not hit the old "broadside of a barn" with the AR-15. Guess where the AR-15 is used? The gun towers. Guess where this officer was routinely assigned? The gun towers. If offenders only knew! They could flip him off and casually crawl over the fence without fear of being shot. In another incident, one that I did not witness, an officer - firing a revolver - hit the ground in front of the target. Firearms qualification is required for initial and continued employment.
In GP (General Population) Central Control - the Allred Unit's main control center - was a box containing cans of chemical agents. These were not used on a day-to-day basis, but each can had to be counted and weighed by each shift. It's not like Central Control officers didn't already have enough to do. No one of any horsepower considered putting a security seal on the box and setting it aside. But they did come up with the insane idea of putting labels on all pieces of Central Control office equipment. Yes, a label with "STAPLER" was put on the stapler, and so on. And you thought cover sheets on your TPS reports was bad!
When upset about something, a former warden at the Allred Unit would issue this weather report: "I'm going to act a fool. I'm going to cloud up and rain".
It was 4-Chow Hall. Like all Allred chow halls, it's "in one door, eat, out the other door." It's the floor boss's job to keep them moving. When the fourth row of tables is full, the first row is highly encouraged to un-ass the building. Three "older" offenders were sitting near the back, seemingly ignoring the boss's efforts to keep the flow going. The boss walked over to their table and asked if they had a "slow eating" pass (issued by a doctor), which was a thing in those days. One of the senior citizen offenders said, "No, just no teeth."
I was in 1-section, 7-Building, trying to get the picket boss to open the door to let me out. He was standing at the console looking out to the Sergeant's Desk. At least, I thought he was looking. As it turned out, he was asleep on his feet in the middle of the day. Alseep with his bag of snacks from the commissary open before him. I pushed the intercom button, banged in the window, shined my flashlight at him, and shot my laser pointer at him. Nothing worked. It was so bad that inmates jumped up and down on the dayroom tables, trying to get his attention. Had I been one of those asshole bosses, they could have been jumping up and down on me, and the picket boss would have slept right through it. I thought I would have to push my body alarm, but he finally snapped out of it and opened the door.
At the Allred Unit, with a few exceptions, only the picket boss can be inside the control picket. In one of the dorms, the "floor bosses" were also in the picket, soaking up some of the air conditioning. It was one of those days when the temperature in the day rooms was 110+ degrees. An offender, knowing the rules as well as anyone, stood outside the door with arms folded, giving them a visual scolding. One of the officers said, "Unless you've got a camera, keep moving." The offender laughed and moved on.
A former James V. Allred Unit official decided that all 3,700+ offender mattresses would run through the Unit's X-ray parcel scanners. The idea was to locate contraband. It's a good idea, except for the fact that the mattresses are longer than the X-ray chamber. This little fact means both protective curtains - entry and exit - are open at some point during each X-ray cycle. Guess who's pushing mattresses in and pulling them out during the X-ray cycle? Offenders! They probably didn't have a clue. I won't mention the Allred employee (non-security) who rode through the X-ray scanner one day. That might trigger a retroactive $10,000 OSHA fine!
On very hot days, Allred Unit Correctional Officers have, in the past, delivered ice to the cells. Sometimes, inmates who are locked up most of the day are let out to get ice water. The Texas Department of Criminal Justice is, or was, in the process of installing air conditioning in units across the state. Unknown if any progress has been made at Allred. Summer is miserable for all concerned.
The pay for Texas Correctional Officers has risen quite a bit over the last decade. While it's not a career move for everyone, I know more than a few people who say it's the best job they've ever had. One of the best features of the job is the "four on and four off" schedule. You have decent pay and four days in a row off for road trips. Once or twice a year, you can take four vacation days, couple that with the four days off on either side of those vacation days, and boom, you've got twelve days in a row off! How many other jobs offer that, on top of those other "state" benefits?
A sergeant at the Allred Unit was busted by a captain for taking a sandwich out of the Officer's Dining Room or ODR. He was made to write, 100 times, "I will not take food out of the ODR". The document, or a portion thereof, was posted on the wall in the ODR for all to see. Officers at the Allred Unit work a 12½ hour shift with a 30-minute lunch break. There are no coffee breaks at the Allred Unit. Your lunch period may come as early as one hour into your shift or closer to quitting time, depending on staffing. You can't leave your post until someone replaces you. Who wouldn't want to take a sandwich back to their duty station if they have more than half of their shift ahead of them?
An Allred Unit Correctional Officer knew that officers working some of the gates were not thoroughly checking the passes of offenders passing through those gates. To test his theory, he gave one offender a pass and listed on that pass were items that the offender was authorized to have with him, including a hand grenade and other silliness. Sure enough, the offender passed through those gates unmolested. Who got molested? The officer who issued the pass was "chalked up" for running an unauthorized test.
Allred Unit, 4-Building, E-Pod. It was chow time, but one offender threatened to jump off 3-Row. The cavalry was on the way to assist in the matter but had no way of knowing that they had passed this offender on his way to chow. He decided he didn't want to leave the world on an empty stomach. No, he was not allowed to assume his position on 3-Row when he returned. He didn't return. Instead, he was taken to 11-Building, Pre-Hearing Detention, possibly a psych cell. Clear the Hall! How he left 4-Building in the first place is still a mystery.
It was in "7" Chow Hall when a new and attractive nurse walked by. Everyone on the second row ran to the windows to get a better look. People on the first row were already at the windows. The Boss told them if they did not sit down, he would dump their trays since they appeared to be finished. As they returned to their tables, the Boss asked one offender, who looked to be over 70, "And just what were you doing?" The offender replies "I'm not out of the game yet, Boss!"
It was 3-Building the Allred Unit. If you didn't know, the Allred Unit is a male, maximum-security prison. This building houses offenders in need of protective custody and includes some very feminine offenders. It was count time and the officer had the occupants of the day room in one of the sections lined up for count. Just as he was about to start, a puddle of water near the stairs caught his attention. Someone in line with a very feminine voice said "Somebody's water broke, Boss!"
It was chow time in 11-Building, Pre-Hearing Detention, at the James V. Allred Unit. On the first floor, and offender told an officer that an offender on the second floor didn't get anything to drink. The boss asked the offender how he knew this. The offender said he heard it on the "vent phone".
I don't know about these days, but there was a duty position at the Allred Unit called "Psych Overflow" or something like that. These "overflow" patients were housed in 11-Building. Each officer assigned to "Psych Overflow" had to observe two patients continuously. I had that duty one time, and once was enough. Before my assignment, there used to be stools to allow the officers to sit and observe. As you might expect, an officer fell asleep while sitting, and that was the end of the stools. Standing for six hours watching two people is right up there with watching paint dry and grass grow.
It was during a semi-annual "shakedown," and offenders were being fed sack lunches (Johnny sacks) in their buildings. In one of the dorms (18- and 19-building), a female Correctional Officer had an offender pull her around on a flat cart while she tossed Johnny sacks into the cubicles. The offenders caught some of the sacks while others bounced off the sleeping offenders. This is how you get your butt whipped in a prison. I only mention that the officer was female because this is probably what saved her.
Summer is miserable at the Allred Unit, affecting both employees and offenders. Air conditioning for the General Population buildings is supposed to be happening. It is unknown whether the installation has begun or is complete. The gun towers are like little ovens, and the small air conditioners barely keep up. Inside the buildings, some of which require officers to wear "thrust vests," are ovens at this time of year. I've seen temperatures of over 110 degrees in the day rooms of buildings 18 and 19. These are the dorms. Everyone - offenders and staff - being miserable is not a good condition for a prison.
The Office of the Inspector General (OIG) is the "law enforcement" arm of the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. Officers are certified Texas peace officers. They are exempt from searches of their person and packages as they enter and leave the unit. After all, they regularly deal with various items of contraband, including weapons and drugs. However, the head of OIG said that OIG officers will submit to metal detector and pat-down searches when other employees are subject to such searches. This move was intended to demonstrate that they were "members of the team" or something similar. The only quirk was that they could bring in one briefcase that was not subject to search. It's like a diplomatic pouch. So, what was the point of going through the metal detector and pat-down search?
A little over a decade ago, a couple of civilian employees from the Allred Unit bought a bunch of small plants from Walmart. They had asked the Walmart employee if the plants could be returned if the "end user" didn't like them. The employee responded in the affirmative. Unknown to Walmart, these plants were intended to decorate tables at an event at the Allred Unit, and there was no plan to keep them. Sure enough, the plants were returned for a refund after the event. Not cool, even if it's Walmart!
I was working General Population visitation, strip-searching an inmate ahead of a non-contact visit. The inmates sat in a narrow room lined with chairs and phones, along with other inmates, while visitors sat on the other side of the glass. This particular inmate was a little miffed that he first had to be strip-searched. He reasoned that he and the visitor could not exchange contraband. I asked him how he would feel if I, due to complacency, let one of his enemies, armed with a shank, in there with him. He said, "Oh."
The scene was the James V. Allfred Unit prison. It was a holiday, and a religious group was distributing greeting cards related to the event. At one cell, a card slipped under the door by a volunteer came flying back out with a speed and sound reminiscent of the examiner's clipboard in the movie License to Drive.
Ice Patrol - No, I’m not talking about Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The Ice Patrol pushes a cart with large plastic trash cans filled with crushed ice, moving from building to building. During the summer months, every building “desk”, every general population housing “section”, every “turnout”, every gun tower, the highway gate, and numerous other positions have a “Coleman” type, 3 to 5 gallon water cooler that is kept filled with ice. The ice coolers of security personnel are kept filled throughout the year.
I was working 7-8 Gate one day, when a rather large offender walked by. As he did, he said, "Boss, I appreciate what you do and I recognize the danger". Wow - never heard that before! Of course, I thought this was just the usual nonsense, trying to soften me up for something. After working with this offender for a while, I realized it was a genuine compliment. But I still keep my BS antennas raised!
It was a weekend, and that means it's "grill time" at the Allred Unit. Do they still do that? Lucky offenders at several locations on the unit will be grilling various meats brought in by officers. Don't think these offenders won't be stuffing themselves as payment for their efforts. I asked one such offender if he skimmed off 10%. He replied, "At least!"
At 13-building, James V. Allred Unit, on a visitation day, a visitor asked a Correctional Officer, "Can I use your restroom?" The officer responded, "You're a taxpayer, that's your restroom!" The visitor seemed stunned for a second, apparently not used to hearing this type of talk from a public employee, but recovered and went to the restroom.
One of my "pet peeves" has always been having to work with crappy 10th-generation copies of company forms. The Allred Unit, our very own male, maximum security prison, wins the prize for the crappiest copies that I've ever seen during my working life! I worked in the front lobby of the central administration building (1-Building) on a visitation day. My job was to record the same information the visitor had just provided in the building (13-Building) just before reaching my building. And, by the way, at 13-Building, the visitor had to provide the same information they had just provided at the Highway Gate! Aren't we in the "computer age"? The forms I had to use consisted of horribly wavy lines that were supposed to be straight. The wording on the form had faded away in many places, was written over using a pen, and more crappy copies were made by someone who couldn't care less about appearance. The embarrassing part for me was that these visitors were standing there watching me, a representative of a large state agency, using a form that a first-grader would have rejected as a scribble pad. I was so disgusted that I took the time to make new forms on my home computer and used them as new master copies. In a related incident, I was taking count on one of the buildings. I was almost finished when I noticed that the last column on the count sheet had been cut off by some "lazy ass" making the copies. All I could do was shake my head and laugh.
This is a sewing needle made by an Allred Unit offender. Or it could be a blow dart tip, depending on what kind of mood he's in. Either way, it's contraband.
It was the evening meal at "7" Chow Hall. An older inmate - around 70 years old - deposited his empty tray at the proper place, walked over to me, and asked, "Boss Man, I'm old. Can I eat again?" I told him it was a nice try, but ''No." I should have told him to go to his house and hit the sack, because sleep is a time machine to breakfast.