October 10, 2014
The last time I wrote a blog entry was the day before my birthday, so grab on to your seats, I'm about to take you on a journey through the last two weeks of my life in prison. I feel a little guilty for not writing these last two weeks, speaking up about some of the injustices in prison and documenting my tribulations should have remained priority as well as a tool/weapon for my current situation. The reason I haven't written is because my situation is so personal, directly relating to my life long struggles, also very delicate and probably the most difficult thing to convince my family and even close friends into believe also hoping to resolve this quickly before speaking up, but being a prisoner of the state I fear that this may never resolve in my favor, if so, then the prison will have a lot of paperwork and headaches from me because I will never give up until my name is cleared of any wrong doing. On Sept. 25, my 35th birthday I was notified by prison staff that my urine specimen from a month ago tested positive for marijuana, actually the first person to tell me about it was my friend, Kurt. Kurt was sitting in the unit caseworker's office for his annual security review when the caseworker started talking about me. Upon Kurt's return to our cell he started to tell me what he just heard. In complete shock and disbelief I quickly got dressed, ran out of the cell before Kurt could even finish talking and ran downstairs to the office to find out just what the heck was going on. The caseworker told me it was true, I tested positive for T.H.C... Before I go any further let me clarify one thing, I am very proud to say that I haven't used marijuana, or any other mind/mood altering narcotic or substance since I left the county jail more than three prosperous years ago. A man in my unit has a last name that sounds just like mine when being pronounced, so I asked him if he was sure he didn't possibly get our names mixed up, so he made a quick phone call, verifying that it was in fact my name. Devastation, shock, disbelief, at a loss for words I began to tell my caseworker (who is also a recovering addict) about my three years of sobriety. He told me that he would see what he could do to help me out and to come back to his office the following morning. Frantic, frustrated and so emotional I could hardly think straight I decided to go back to the confines of my cell in an attempt to gather my thoughts. They locked us down for count and an hour later the guard came by my cell to tell me to report to the Sgt. Office as soon as count cleared. I knew that it meant the Sgt. was going to read me my official ticket, stating my charges. I was told I was being charged with a rule #39 infraction, testing positive for marijuana, he asked me what my plea was and of course I told him 'not guilty'. I tried to explain why, but he told me just to explain it to R.I.B. when I go to see them on Monday. After a couple of hours, thinking long and hard about my situation I realized I had no other choice but to call my family for help. Knowing that convincing my parents I haven't used drugs with my past history and years of substance abuse I would be attempting the #1. most impossible mission, even with all the good I've done with my life over these last three years. Having seen my mother early that morning on a video visit, wishing me happy birthday, I knew she was in Texas on business. So I called to ask her when she was going to be home with my father to talk to them both at the same time, because I knew how difficult of a conversation it would be for all of us and I didn't want to weigh her down with such bad news halfway across the country without the comfort of her husband to go through this painful, unwanted event with. They set up a video visit for first thing the next morning. Needless to say, I spent the entire night thinking, tossing, turning, sleepless and just plain sick to my stomach about this whole predicament. I've worked too hard for a better life and future to have to deal with this, yet here I am. TO BE CONTINUED......
Steve I just want to thank you for your blogs. It makes me kinda understand what Jimmy Lunsford is going through. Thank you again !
Alma Brown