A Journey Inside the Houston County Jail

By Greg Ritchie

Messenger Journalist

HOUSTON COUNTY – May 5-11 is National Correctional Officers Week and The Messenger thought it was high time to visit the local jail, to see how the Houston County Justice Center operates and how officers work to house, feed and ensure the safety of their “guests”. as they navigate the legal system.

It’s important to note – and several officers have mentioned this – that many of the people incarcerated in the local jail have been arrested but not convicted – and officers take that discrepancy seriously. “Innocent until proven guilty” means that those incarcerated must behave and follow the rules, but their humanity is not taken for granted as their diet and health are seriously considered.

If you find yourself in the difficult situation of entering the prison from the exit port garage, the first thing to do will be a check-in, during which you will be asked questions about your physical and mental state, before the nurse examines you and you are photographed. and fingerprints. Of course, not everyone who enters these walls is happy to be there, but many are under the influence of many different substances and must be housed in special cells, where they cannot harm themselves or others, as they descend from the cloud they encountered. it happened to be on.

Although she is already 14 years old, the prison is bright, clean and modern – not the dark and damp prisons of old. Many cells have a telephone, through which prisoners can call their relatives or lawyers (where permitted) or even call the prison administration to report a problem. Inmates can receive money, by money order or online, that they can use to purchase snacks or toiletries at the commissary, or even to video chat with distant loved ones.

We had the privilege of touring the entire complex, with nothing off limits, thanks to longtime prison administrator Martha Jackson, who allowed us to go anywhere and speak with anyone. who – employee or “resident”.

Many of the inmates are housed here on behalf of law enforcement agencies from other counties who pay a set amount to Houston County to keep them here until their cases are ready. Some will be released in a day, others will spend up to a year, if there is no bail in their case, waiting for justice to take its course.

Men and women are separated, in shared bunks, where there are plenty of toilets, fresh water, tables and bunk beds. They have playtime, where they can train and get out of the cell for a while. No one would mistake it for a good hotel – it is a prison, after all. But it’s clean and well-maintained, with a rolling kiosk for inmates to contact their families via video chat (when permitted) and the traditional rolling book cart with everything from novels, nonfiction, and Bibles.

There are constant counts throughout the day and an array of dozens of cameras can monitor every corner. From a central control station, AC Rains monitors cells, surroundings, buzzing doors open or closed, at the request of officers passing through the facility.

Orange jumpsuits are standard here and while they may never be a hit on the Paris runways, they seem reasonably comfortable to wear. Some inmates wear black and white striped uniforms – these are the commissioners – the ones who have shown they can follow the rules and are trusted. They do all kinds of tasks around the prison, from cooking and cleaning to doing laundry. Each of them confirmed that being able to escape the cell for a few hours a day, learn a trade, occupy their minds and live in the curators’ cell with more space in worth it.

As that time of day approached, the next logical question had to be, “What do inmates eat?” »

The kitchen is large and has a walk-in fridge and freezer as well as another room for dry storage – it takes a lot to feed around 140 men and women each day. There were three administrators working in the kitchen that day, each working in a different area. The men worked six-hour shifts, happy to be away from the routine of cell life and even had a small radio to listen to while they cooked for their fellow inmates.

“Chicken and rice today,” one said.

The prison has a dietitian who plans meals, and administrators run the kitchen according to that meal plan – learning not only how to cook, but also how to organize and order supplies.

One administrator said he was looking forward to putting his culinary skills to use. Saying he only had about a month left before he could leave, he was already thinking about a job at one of Crockett’s local restaurants. From the cleanliness of this kitchen to the smell of that chicken and rice, if he stays on the right path, he’ll have a great career. Hopefully one of our local businesses will come pick it up and it will be chicken and rice for everyone.

Near the rear of the complex, Deputy Chief Roger Dickey was bringing a number of inmates back from the courthouse. Transporting these men and women is not always easy and the sheriff’s office takes special precautions when inmates are on the move: no one wants a loved one trying to do something stupid to get their uncle out a little early provided that.

This is part of local prison life, where although it was clear that some of the “guests” might intimidate in a dark alley – there are opportunities for them to get all their basic needs met, and even to reform – if they wish. – even though many don’t.

All the officers mentioned the “repeat cases” the prison receives. There isn’t a family in the country without a family member who has gotten into trouble and possibly ended up in a place like this – if only for a night. What they do inside, and more importantly, after leaving this place, will tell whether or not they will return to normal, or if they will go back inside.

Jailer Brenda Christian joined the team about a year and a half ago, after her husband died. He was a long-time investigator with the department and she wanted to help her “blue” family in uniform. She said it was the Lord who led her into this.

“I knew I would sometimes see things that women don’t need to see, but I take that with a grain of salt. You know, they are human. We are all sinners,” Christian said. “These people here can beat the odds, but it takes a lot of work. And they need to keep their eyes on God and that’s what I try to tell them when they go out. “Keep your eyes on God and it will be hard for you, but you can do it. »

No firearms are allowed in the facility, not even by the jailers. In case of serious problems, they fend for themselves until help arrives from outside. They must keep the place sealed – including themselves – until the cavalry arrives. With 140 people in these cells, not everyone can make this kind of commitment.

Johnny Romo worked for the state prison system before retiring. He’s retired a few times now, but can’t seem to cope with life sitting on the couch. We met him that day, after helping Christian with one of their many inmate counts.

“When we were growing up, we were always raised to respect, because if we didn’t, you were going to pay the consequences from mom and dad,” Ramos said. “This generation today? They don’t care. They don’t care about anything or anyone. And then they get to prison and they don’t get what they want. And then they want to cry. And they want to call home. It makes me angry. They’re man enough to go out there and commit a crime and do everything they did, but yet when they get here, they’re not man enough to serve their time.

Christian herself admitted that she was tested several times, being a smaller woman, but she kept her composure and gained the respect of the larger inmates. The 72-year-old Sgt. Marvin Ackely is in office and has not yet decided how many years he will stay there.

“We’re babysitters,” Ackley said. “The inmates are courteous to me because we always treat them well. Just because they are incarcerated, no one treats them harshly. Everyone has a family that gets into trouble in one way or another. They all have parents, relatives and grandmothers who worry about them.

Greg Ritchie can be contacted at (email protected)