Thoughts from Outside: Back Against a Wall

its a thin line between wrong and rite traped in the time of the party life .

Given no choices i had to fight my mom and dad were to young to raise me rite

maybe i been mad a man for all the mistakes i made friends r dead friends r gone

i still aint afriad to get wrong get back on with violent games i played my lights would of but cut rite off if my does werent payed .


Thank u for reading


Bobby S


Transfered, Forgotten, and Running in Paperwork Circles Trying to be Close to Family

Dear Mrs. Sophie Inchains 1-23-11

My name is [name omitted for safety], my inmate # is [number omitted for safety]. I was told to write to you because you may be able to help with my current situation. I have also written to the commissioner and Scott Mcaffery the head of the D.O.C. classification in August and I have not yet received a response.

My problem is that I was shipped out of CCF (Charleston Correctional Facility) with a class C write up for disrespect to the staff. I received the write up on December 31st. I was then transferred to MCC (Maine Correctional Center) and this is where I remain. I am back in the pods for 20 hours a day, it is now the 23’rd of January, and I still have’nt [sic] went to my D-board for my “so called write up”. I’m still classified minimum according to both C.C.F. and M.C.C., yet I’m still being punished. Due to D.O.C. policy they can no longer give me my said write up, because it clearly states that they have 7 working days to do so from the time that write up had been sighned [sic].

Now M.C.C. is giving me the “run around” saying that they’re waiting to hear back from C.C.F because they think the write up may still be applicable. But, because of all of this I’m very well “stuck” and clueless as to what may happen. I cannot be placed on the list to go to Downeast Correctional Center, which is a minimum/medium facility and it is also close to home.

I should of kept my composior [sic] towards the officer at C.C.F. But, however he was also in the wrong, he pointed his finger in my face and in a disrespectful manner, swaring [sic] and putting me down when in fact he does’nt [sic] know me as a person. I should’nt [sic] of lost my temper, I’ll admit it, but he provoked me by cursing and yelling right in my face. They should lead by example where there is a code of ethics in bot of our situations. But, why do they have to play these confusing games especially when they have the “upper-hand” in said situation.

I do realize that I am in fact an inmate, but I’m a human being also. All that I want is this ridiculous conflict resolved, put this all behind me, get back to where I can have contact with my family, and hopefully keep my minimum. Please help me in doing so? Thank you for your time.

Sincerely and Respectively,

[name omitted for safety]

This Voice enclosed three “Request Slip for Information or Interview with Administration and Staff” reports. In order to try to keep him from suffering retaliation I have typed his complaint section and the response from the officer with their name, if legible. Apparently, along with not follow their own policies about write-ups and ethics, corrections officers are also not required to print their names next to their signatures. All personal information on the top of the form has been omitted.

[Sheet One]
1-5-11 [sic]
State in the space below all information or action requested:
I would like to be put on the list for Bucks Harbor please I’m from there its only an hour from my home easier for my family to visit me and I just want to be close to home so please try to get there as soon as possible I just miss my family thank you for your time on this matter I hope to here [sic] back from you soon
Sincerely respectfully

Listed below are the answers, actions and information requested by you on:

1-11-12 Signed: Dahn M Grass [sic?]

Please write to Unit 2. You had some recent disciplinary @ CCF so not sure you’ll be put on a list for DCF until you show some positive behavior & attitude.

[Sheet Two]

State in the space below all information or action requested:
I was brought down on a diciniplary [sic] action however I did not get a wrote up as far as I know and if I did the time has expired to give me a write up I’ve been down here for 2 weeks from C.C.F and I am still classified as minimum I am just wondering if you can give me an IDEA of how long I’ll remain in the pods you see I live 31/2 maybe 4 hours away and I wod [sic] like to get a contact visit with my family its drives me crazy not being able to see them I’m not having them drive that far to sit behind a glass thank you for your time on this matter I hope to hear back from you soon respectfully

Listed below are the answers, actions and information requested by you on:

1/18/12 Signed: Sgt. Klt [sic?]
We will have to look into it further.

[Sheet Three]

State in the space below all information or action requested:
I was brought here from C.C.F on a diciniplery [sic] action 2 weeks ago how ever [sic] I dident [sic] receive a write up as far as I know and if I did get a write the time limit on it has expired C.C.F still classified me minimes [sic] and according to MCC I am still minimem [sic] I’m just wondering if you can give me an IDEA of how long I will remain in the pods you see sir I live 4 hours away and I just want 2 see my family a contact visit not behind a glass I also want you to know capt that I am sorry about what happened at C.C.F I was wrong but I swear to you it was only ½ my fault and I give you my word this no problem from me I hope to here [sic] from you soon sincerely respectuly [sic] and Thank You

[No date of response only what appears to be a V and 12R on that line] Signed: WF [sic?]

Listed below are the answers, actions and information requested by you on:
I currently have no discipline reports on you from CCF or anywhere else. I am not in charge of your housing. Write to Captain Emmerson or Asst. Sgt. Libby please

Inmates Punished via Transfers: Mold and Asbestos Cover-Up’s in Charleston, ME. Correctional

Keep On Keepin’ On

     My name is Ben [last name omitted] and I’m at the Downeast Correctional Facility.  Otherwise known as Bucks Harbor.  I’m serving a 7-year sentence and I’ve got about 2 years left.  I was shipped here from Charleston [specifics omitted] 2009.  There was no feasable [sic] reason I was shipped.  The fact is that administration there doesn’t like it when you stand up for yourself.  They want inmates there that will let them talk down to them and make idle threats.  Staff members are very disrespectful to inmates but expect inmates to bow their head when spoken to.

Maybe you think I’m another “whiner” but don’t be mistaken.  I’ve done a lot of time and I know how to play the “Game”.  Here’s an overview of my then-current status at Charleston:  I was Level 3 (highest level achievable).  I worked on an off-grounds crew (that mostly worked on-grounds busting our asses overtime nights and weekends to get the facility in condition to pass the ACA inspection), and I was helping to teach one of their highly regarded Thinking For A Change classes.  Yes, I was going above and beyond what is required of an inmate.  During this time I was threatened to be fired, written up, and shipped because I didn’t want to work one Saturday.  I knew I was in the right but I worked anyway.  I put up with their cover-ups of mold and asbestos.  They made a group shower room downstairs in one of the dorms and the previous showers (2 on each walk, 4 walks) were moldy and rotten.  Instead of removing them they were covered up with 2×4 framing and sheetrock and painted to look like the regular walls.  The kitchen buildings outside walls are asbestos material and were covered with tongue-and-groove boards instead of being removed.  These are just a couple of examples of crooked cover-ups I’ve seen throughout D.O.C.  I’ve done time in SMU, Windham, MSP, BCF, DCF, and Charleston.

Anyway, I put in for a D.O.T. job at Charleston and they denied me.  They said I had a negative attitude.  So I showed them negative attitude.  Every staff member who talked down to me like I was a nobody I fired right back at them.  Not enough to get a write-up but enough to let them know I wasn’t going to be disrespected.  I was then placed on workhold [sic].  I asked Captain Starbird why.  Some of you know him as the previous Unit Manager for the Supermax.  Well 3 days later I was being shackled up for transport.  He told me plain and simple administration doesn’t like me and no matter how good I did they would never give me a fair chance so he decided to ship me here to DCF where I’d have a fair chance.  So I get here and lose my minimum.  No write-up or anything thing.

I talked to [name omitted by Sophie] who is the mental health worker for DCF and Charleston.  He told me Charleston was undecided on whether to ship me to the Farm or DCF.  Well if the Farm was an option why did I lose my minimum.  Well, I got sight of my transfer paper and Charleston wrote a lot of negative things like untrustworthy, disrespectful of officers.  Well, I wouldn’t have been disrespectful to the officers if they didn’t talk to me like a scumbag.  And if I was so untrustworthy why was I on the off-grounds crew and why was I helping teach a crew and why was I helping teach a Thinking For A Change class?  A class that focuses on thinking before you react.  So I lost my minimum for no reason.  Charleston’s administration will actually tell you they try to push your buttons to “get you ready for the streets”.  What kind of twisted method are these people taught?  I thought minimum security was supposed to help us not drive us to even more stress and anger.  After so much of that most inmates want to go back to MSP.

So after I got here I’m reading the Bangor Daily one morning and I come across my grandfather’s obituary.  Yeah, quite a shock.  I hadn’t talked to anybody in my family for 3 ½ years so it was all a lot to deal with.  Now most of them keep in touch with me.  A week and a half after I buried my grandfather (I got to go to his funeral) I divorced my wife.  So between family issues, wife issues, facility issues, inmate drama and whatever other stress factors come into play we inmates have a lot on our plates.

I’ve been pushed past mental limits that I never knew I had and I’m still here chillin’ with no goodtime lost.  Of all the people who know me they should know if someone of my temperament can make it through the wars within these walls, anybody can.  It’s not easy but that’s what makes us soldiers on this battle field.  They cannot break us if we look within ourselves and grab that resolve.

Most C/Os [sic] and administration thrive on our hate and anger.  I see now we’re making a stronger stand than we ever have.  “United we Stand, divided we Fall.”  There’s so much truth in that statement.

To all my boys in Supermax, stay strong and keep fightin’ the good fight.  To all inmates: We must face our problems, not run from them.  The more problems we face, the stronger we become.  One step at a time, always moving forward.  Keep on keepin’ on.



Grief: Coping w/the Loss of a Mother from Behind Bars

Jesus Don’t Leave Me

By Doc DuPree



Oh Jesus don’t leave me be?  Jesus lived in mother and oh Lord Jesus a future without her I can’t see!

It was a terrible crash in the middle of the night, two drivers head-on, one without vision, the other in the Light.

Lights & glass smash into steel, Mother holds her bruised breast behind the wheel, whispering her last prayers reeling from pain and leaving her son in Jesus Will!

Oh Jesus please don’t leave me be, Jesus lived in mother and oh Jesus a future without her I can’t see!

My Angel Queen Mother, your precious spirit remains close to me.  You say I am free, but precious mother my dreams started and ended with We!

No longer do your letters come in the mail brushing away clouds and lifting my sails.  No-more do I see your bright and love filled smiles at our visits, nor can I be reassured by your caring voice on the phone, no I am simply alone.

Oh Jesus I saw your light in her, but now she is gone.  I still dial her number, but nobody is home.

Six months later and still no voice on the phone, no mail or visits, all is gone.

Oh Jesus I feel so privileged to have experienced such pure love.  And you Lord who’s symbol is a snow-white dove visit me, and answered my call without a phone, give me your message I am not alone!

Lord don’t leave me, a future through you only I can see.

In memory of Millie Presley, May, 22, 1942-April, 22, 2007

A Saint dedicated mother, active Christian Patriot and Nationalist, Racecar driver, Legendary dancer, Nature lover (especially Pensacola Beach), Shrimp boat Capt on Pensacola Bay (Boat name Ramblem Rose), Folk singer and Artist, Natural healer, Comedian, Good Samaritan, Favorite Hymn-‘One Day At a Time’.


By: Tony Owen Dupree 120528-L2111L

5850 E. Milton Rd,

Milton, Fla 32583


In The Service Of The King Jesus Christ




Dear Sophie Inchains PO B 2900 South Portland, ME 04106,

I pray this find all well with you.  First, you have my permission to publish the enclosed poem-‘Jesus Don’t Leave Me’.  Please publish with my address?

I also have a question?  I have a Actual Innocence case which I would like shown like 20/20 and others to investigate and air.  I wonder if you would take my legal motion and exhibit pages and scan the pages onto a net cite where I could refer people such as 20/20 to review my case?

I have no family to do such favor and am totaly [sic] indigent.

Please let me know, and please return the poem in the enclosed SASE?

With much love and respect always Tony!

In The Service Of The King Jesus Christ

Keep Up The Great Work!


Tony Owen DuPree 120528-L2111L

5850 E. Milton Rd,

Milton, Fla 32583


6, 25, 2011

“I’m thinking about killing myself the pain is so bad”


Dear Sophie my name is David ***.  Your husband gave me your address.  First off I want to say what you do for us inmate is real great of you.  I can’t even put it into words how good you are for doing these thing for us so thank you very very much.  First off I would like you to put on the net that C.M.S. medical company is refusing me medical treatment.  My back is really messed up.  I got scolois [sic] and degenerte [sic] disk diease [sic] and they refuse to give me a M.R.I.  My back is so bent I look like the hump back of Notre Dame.  I allso [sic] got a benign tumor.  In my back and broken vertabreys [sic].  I’m having severe pain.  2 my left shoulder has a torn rotater [sic] cuff they have the x-ray’s saying that and they are refusing to let me see a orthopedic surgen [sic] they no [sic] my rotater [sic] cuff is torn.  And they are takeing [sic] people off there meds because the head of C.M.S. say they cost to [sic] much that is against the law.  I was wondering if you could find the address to an attourney [sic] office.  They are sueing [sic] a class action law suit for people that has been on Neurotin [sic] and have to have gall bladder taken out.  Mine exploded in my body it was full of gangerene [sic].  The attourney [sic] has been on T.V. but I lost the number I was wondering if you could find his address and send it to me?  I allmost [sic] diead [sic] from it.  It was a big law firm they were on T.V. but I lost the # there probally [sic] is a bunch of them.  I was wondering if you could E-mail my mom and give her the web sites and ask her to do some E-mails to some one that can help with my back.  Her E mail [sic] [Personal information omitted by Sophie].  Tell her to help me I’m thinking about killing myself the pain is so bad.

Thank you very much Sophie.

Your Friend

David ***

P.S. Tell my mom I love her

Please Note:  Due to legal and ethical reason Sophie does not contact family members.  Also, Sophie does not have a husband in (or out) of prison.  Unfortunately, David was given incorrect information.

Growing up Incarcerated and the Uncertain Future


I apologize for my lateness.  It wasn’t intentional.  It’s more or less what you were requesting.  I understand what your “blog” is.  A tool, for prisoners like myself, to let their voices be heard.  Now, the real question is, what do I have to say that really means anything?  Then it came to me.  I’ll tell you my story.  (What I’ve done, what I’ve been through, and what I’ve learned.)  Here it is:

I’ve been locked up for nearly ten  years now.  It’s become, more and more my reality.  My past, it seems, is more a dream.  That I visit from time to time.  A part of my life forgotten.

I was eighteen when I came in.  Just a kid.  I’ve practically grown up behind bars.  My crime is Manslaughter.  I recklessly caused the death of my neighbor.  I got into a confrontation with him.  Which escalated quickly.  He lost his life.  I lost my freedom.  And I’d do anything to take it back.

I relive my actions from time to time.  I always arrive at the same conclusion…”Why was I so intent on hurting this man?”  I mean, it would have been so easy to just walk away.  But all I was concerned with was proving myself to my friends.  As if that would confirm who I was.  I’ve learned over the years that men are plagued with the idea “to be a man, you must be tough”.  This isn’t far from the truth.  However, we’ve twisted the true meaning of being tough.  There are many forms of toughness.  And only one, in which we senselessly hurt another.  We never truly understand until we’ve grown in mind, body, and spirit.  (In my opinion.)  Unfortunately, there are some of us who have learned too late.

I have a little over two years left till my minimum release date.  “I ask myself, what am I leaving with?”  There is so much uncertainty.  I tell myself that I want to do good.  I want to change, for my families sake.  I tell myself that they’ve been through enough.  I’ve been through enough…

…Then I’m shaken back to my current reality.  As some guard disrespects me.  Treating me like I’m some inferior animal.  Intentionally taunting me because I’m an “inmate”.  Using their authority as a tool.  And depending whether I react to their taunts, will determine if they’ll want to search my cell or not.  In other words, toss my cell, as if a tornado had come through.  Smiles plastered on their faces.  (Which razes [sic] eyebrows when considering the D.O.C. motto…”Integrity, Respect, and Professionalism”.  Hypercritcal [sic] nonsense!)

It’s at these times that I ask myself, what am I leaving with?…”If we refuse to see ourselves as flawed and imperfect; Able to learn from our mistakes.  We will forever remain a destructive and distrustfull [sic] race; suspicious until it is too late for redemption…When we’re all damned”.

(P.S.) Tell me whether you want me to write about something in particular?


New Hampshire State Prison


Still in Lockdown…


Todays a better day then yesterday.  It doesn’t matter that I’m still in 24 hour lock down, I was able to call my mom about my grandfathers death.  I also decided to write my son a letter.  I don’t plan on him responding, but that’s okay.

Talking with my mom was nice and also sad.  I have a hard time dealing with my mom when she is upset.  It remindes [sic] me of a time in High school.  I grabbed her car keys and stole her car.  She stood in front of the car bare footed on the ice.  I remember her face was red.  She needed the car for work, but that didn’t phase me.  Her face was sad and she could no longer stand the freezing caused by the ice under her feet.  She had no choice, she could no longer block me from leaving.  She had to go back inside her apartment where it was warm.  I drove off not understanding how wrong I was.  I love you mom!

There has been some conflick [sic] in the family sense [sic] my grandmother past last year.  There’s one family member who wants to control my grandparents money.  She has no regard for my grandparents wishes and has taken advantage of my grandfathers weakness.  Growing up I never thought any family member would interfear [sic] with my grandparents final wishes.  The whole family had a good sense of values.  It was always good to do the right thing no matter the situation.  I guess the color of money has changed at least one of them at this point.

My sister (name omitted by typist) is staying at my grandparents house.  She is taken care of their 3 dogs.  These dogs are all brothers and should not be seperated [sic], their spoiled.  The dogs meals are prepared in 3 different bowls.  1 cup dried dog food, 1 can tuna, 1 cup warm water, and two inches of Summer Sausage cut into squares.  There is a place for each bowl, if they happen to become mixed up the dogs will not eat out of the other dogs bowl.  This is one of the more serious task in the house.  My grandparents travel to (place omitted by typist) dollar store for the tuna, (place omitted by typist) Walmart for the dried dog food, and Shaws for the Summer Sausage.  There is a time set for the dinners, it’s a big deal if your [sic] late.  God love old people!

I wrote my son (name omitted by typist) in hope of easing his emotional pain about the deaths.  I let him know that they both were well respected and great people.  I wanted him to know they were together for 60 years.  They lived in the middle of the woods at the end of a dirt road for 50 of those 60 years.  Their lives were consumed with each other.  His Great Grandfathers heart was broken when his Great Grandmother past [sic] on.  He was lost without her.  When she died it was the end of his life also.  I could see it in his eyes.  I let (name omitted by typist) know that Great Gramy [sic] is waiting for him in heaven with open arms.

It seems like my emotions are more extream [sic] while here in prison.  Issues that wouldn’t effect me on the streets, deeply effect me in here.  It has to do with the simple life.  While on the streets I’m running around working, drinking, visiting people ext.  In here is different.  Its like being forced to look within.  It gives me the oppertunety [sic] to search my soul.  There are a few things going on here that are exciting.  On Sunday we have chocolate cake for dessert, a female guard was working in here the other day, we all got new socks, one of the personers [sic] checked in a skinner, and I got an extra sugar packet with my oatmeal.  The things are exciting but, they do not consume my mind as the issues on the street do.  I think it’s a good thing.  Living simple for a while combined with my age of 36 and my experiences through life could possibly set me on the right track.

I’m looking forward to the future, education, jogging, meeting new people, working on myself while hopefully enacting some new programs here.  I have some good ideas that should be easy to accblish [sic] that will benefit the prisoners mental state.  But, I will discuss that in another letter.  For now I need to live in the moment.  I had to catch my speeding thought earlier.  I was thinking about a haircut, buying a dictionary, getting to work release, what I will do when released, ext.  I was living outside of today.  I want this, I want that, if I had this, I could do that!  The truth is once I get this or that there will be happiness for a minute befor [sic] I want something else.

I was reading an article on giving up on the idear [sic] that “more is better”.  The article explained how we live in the most affluent culture that the world has ever seen.  It goes on to say, we are 6 percent of the worlds population while using up almost half of the natural resources.  It goes on to say we should be satisfied for what we have.  But were [sic] not.  Not even close.  In fact we live in one of the most dissatisfied cultures on record.  As soon as we get something, or achieve something, most of us go on to the next thing immediately.  This squelches our appreciation for life and its many blessings.

From this point on I’m going to catch those “more is better thoughts” and realize if I always think “more is better”, I will never be satisfied.  I need to be happy for what I have.  I’m happy that I have a pen and paper to write with.  I’m happy that my mother still loves me and my grandfather no longer has to suffer with a broken heart.  I’m happy that (name omitted by typist) is my friend and I got two new white blankets yesterday.  I’m happy for the coffee the murderer that lives next door gave me, the fact my grandparents dogs are still together, that the juice at dinner time is extra consentrated [sic] so I can make 2 cups out of it by adding water, that I can yell out the door when I need a word spelled, and for the extra sugar packet that comes with my oatmeal once-in-awhile.

Don’t get me wrong.  Its nice to have things.  But, it seems with me anyway when I swell on “more is better”, I miss out on the true blessings of life.  Maybe living simple for awhile is a good thing.  I have wasted to many days in my life, I don’t want to waste anymore by fantasying how life could be “only if…”

Henry Jacques