By: George Feigley
Cofounder
Pennsylvania's hatred of its citizens has put unprecedented numbers
into prison. They're being kept for cruelly long periods of time.
As a result, hundreds are dying in Pennsylvania's prisons.
Thousands of others have grown feeble, old and sick. To keep
these old, sick persons alive as long as possible (the state
doesn't want the punishment to end prematurely), Pennsylvania's
prison system has two institutions dedicated to keeping old
prisoners alive and suffering. Two former mental hospitals have
been converted to hospital-like prisons. One's at Waymart in
far Northeastern Pennsylvania. The other is at Laurel Highlands,
or really at Somerset in the Southwestern part of the state.
Make no mistake, these are prisons, not hospitals. Their primary mission is to continue an unrelenting course of torment, oppression and, wherever possible, abuse and torture. The prisons do, however also serve a hospital function. In some respects the medical function is quite good. There are about 1300 prisoners at the Laurel Highlands prison. Perhaps half of them are in one stage or another of dying. The prison has several hospital-like units of various sizes and functions. E-Unit is earmarked for so-called "personal care," a kind of nursing home. It's an enclosed unit which imprisons about 40 to 45 men. A few are in their thirties, mostly dialysis patients. The oldest patient is 86. He's confined to a wheelchair, but he's lucid and as nasty as any of the others. He's so addicted to cigarettes that he risks punishment just so he can take a few puffs. At 86 maybe it's time to let him smoke if he wants to. The rest of the patients are in between and average about 55 or 60 years old. White hair is the standard. Most everyone calls the other "Pops" or "Old Head." One of the most interesting things about the forty odd men in "E" unit is the effects that their illnesses, conditions and the close, enclosed environment has on their personalities and behavior. As a group, most of the men behave like catty old women. They're pretty much self-absorbed. They have little or no interest or compassion for their fellows. Many, but certainly not all, are highly critical of one another, nasty about foibles, wants and needs. One fellow of enormous girth (ironically nicknamed "Tiny,") is especially catty. He's a bright enough man, clever and possessed of a sharp, quick wit. Regrettably, he's also possessed of know-it-all arrogance. For whatever reason, he has a need to find fault with the other men, but not the staff. He needs his fellow prisoners to know that he understands everything about the unit, or, at least that he thinks he does. With those patients willing to defer to him as their superior, he's friendly, loquacious and gregarious. With others he's contemptuous. The white majority in the unit is by far the most catty, often behaving like jealous highschool girls. As a group, the Afro-American minority (the ratio is about 3 to 1) are less catty and more concerned with practical problems of survival. The notable exception to this generality is one of the unit's janitorial workers. He's a constant bitch. Those patients who are able to do a little something are given small jobs. They can earn a few pennies to pay for TV cable and to buy necessities from the prison commissary. "Pepper," a lithe, older black man is a patient who's doing life. He does a lot of work on the unit, everything from cleaning to laundry. His circumstances no doubt have him depressed and angry. He expresses his feeling by bitching about everyone and everything. To Pepper, there's a lot wrong with all the others on "E" Unit. It's no doubt true that each of the prisoners (who are, after all, convicted felons) have a lot wrong with them. By the same token, they have redeeming qualities. Pepper sees only their faults. His whole conversation is an exaggeration of those faults (real or imagined). He's an unhappy man. In sharp contrast, a very petite 71 year-old black man is usually cheerie and happy just to be alive. He weighs all of 113 pounds and is confined to a wheelchair. His ambition is to be released and seduce the "young girls." By that he means the 50 and older women he remembers from his time on the streets. "E" Unit has an astonishing amount of physical hostility. Just below the surface is a continual rumble of violence. In any given week perhaps 10% of the patients want to fight with one another. Not infrequently, they do fight no matter how sick they are. The close confinement without any outdoor or physical exercise seems to produce an aggressive cabin fever. The men get on one another's nerves to the point that they're ready to go to blows, often about what's on television or intrusions into what one man feels is his territory, his space. While the blacks seem to be far more physical and combative than the whites, the whites often try intentionally to agitate. One rather obnoxious white man seems to intentionally make stress and strife usually about food or one of the unit's 2 televisions. By manipulating the bigger and stronger men, he contrives for them to get into trouble. One of the men on the unit has no legs. Several others have lost one leg. Most of the amputations are the result of prison neglect of diabetes. The no-legs man has artificial legs. He can't use them because, in its benevolent charity, prison security won't allow him to have his sneakers for the legs. He can't walk in them without the sneakers. More than half of the remaining prisoners use wheelchairs, too. Those prisoners are mostly weakened from heart and/or other diseases. Some can hobble around if need be, but can't get across the unit's 90 foot-wide common area without their chairs. "E" Unit is alarmingly cold. In his extensive wisdom, Tiny asserts that hospitals should be cold, not over 62°. He thinks that the cold kills the germs. Because of their inactivity, almost everyone on the unit is continually wrapped up and wearing thermal underwear. A few of the younger men seem to tolerate the cold much better. One things that no one seems to tolerate is the food. It's truly remarkable how bad the food is. It's undercooked and improperly cooked. Peas are stony pellets, toast sits in puddles of stagnate dishwasher water, hamburgers smell like "downer" cows with infectious sores. As a result of the uneatable food, most of the men have lost a lot of weight. What they eat they must buy from the prison commissary. It's junk food bought with money donated to them by their families. On man, however will eat not only his own food but anyone else's. He's a Hispanic man about 40. All day long he watches mindless violence on one of the unit's TVs. Karate and kung fu films, the more absurd and violent the better, are his favorites. He'll do an old time shoot-m-up, too. He's criticized by others who seem prejudiced because he's Hispanic. But he must be smarter than they are. Not only can he speak Spanish, but also a version of English. That's twice the languages spoken by all but one of the other men. One of the men was a hard-working common laborer who made it only to fifth grade. Another went to law school. A third retired from PennDOT after about 30 years. In one sense they are a sad group, all sick and struggling. In another sense they're not so different from any group of men. One, a large black man with a shunt protruding from his neck is a bit unique. Although very sick, still, at age 36, his thoughts are of playing basketball. Some fellows seem never to really quite grow up. Perhaps it's just as well.
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