I was first locked up on Dec 21, 2008 that was when all of this began for me. From that day I spent 26 months in the worst jail I had ever been in.
It’s a funny thing to.
I had served time in four other jails… some that were even more violent than this jail that I considered so bad.
Some that even fed worse.
So, what made this jail top of the list for “worst ever”?
The jail house snitches.
Never in my life had I seen so many guys who were locked up and ready to go right to work for the prosecutor.
Whatever happen to “don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time?”
Its seemed if now a day’s everyone was content with “doing the crime…”
But the whole “doing the time” part… that shit was for the birds.
Or so it seemed.
When I was arrested, the cop said to me “just get us some more drugs and more guns… you might serve like 18 months.” They said.
You know what I did?
I cried…like a baby…my fucking eyes out.
Because I knew I was never going to cooperate.
I was never going to be a snitch. I was never going to tell on someone else because I had fucked up and gotten caught.
I was gonna take mine on the chin. Like a man.
I also knew because I didn’t cooperate and because I wasn’t willing to, I was going away for a long time.
I cried because I felt like my life was over.
In the jail guys were more than willing to cooperate. They either had information on other cases, or they would work from the inside to gain information.
How did they work from the inside to gain other information? You might ask.
Well, they would befriend individuals who had open cases that those individuals were trying to fight. Where none of these guys wanted to plead guilty in their cases! These guys were high priority targets for jail house snitches.
Quickly, let me add that I was not a target at all.
I was the exception to the rules…
I had confessed to all the charges against me at interrogation like a stand up guy would do. I did disperse the implication of a friend of mine and a chick, who were both with me at the time of my arrest.
I was of no use to the “house rats”.
Once the snitches found targets, then befriended them, they would then work towards gaining the trust of those individuals. Then, if the snitch could do so, he would try like “all hell” to get the target to open up about his case.
The real “meat of the matter”.
All the intricate “ins and outs” of the case.
Mind you that this jail that I speak of, it’s notoriously know for its high number of informants.
So… how would the rats tackle this problem? How would they get these guys to talk about their cases, especially when they know they’re in a jail that is full of guys looking to “jump on” other people’s cases?
They would invite them to join a gang.
By joining a gang an individual would assume he could trust those who would be his gang brothers.
Well, you know what they say when you assume something?
You make an ass out of you and me.
Part of this gang initiation was not only to get your ass kicked by all your little gang brothers for 60 seconds without being able to fight back… but also, to explain what you are locked up for and why.
This was the ultimate key to success for the jail house snitches.
In other cases snitches would befriend guys with open cases and then gain information single handedly. Then trade that information with other snitches that had information on other cases as well. That way they could all “jump on” multiple cases for time reduction.
These low life’s traded case information like baseball cards.
In one particular fucked up case, there was a snitch named G in my cell block. He became friends with his cell mate who faced multiple robbery charges.
The cellie told G everything.
G would leave the cell block weekly to meet with the prosecutor.
Somehow the cellie had no idea what was going on.
I’ll never forget the morning I was leaving the jail to be transferred to prison. While in a “holding tank”, I saw G being placed in a protective custody holding cell across from the holding tank area.
I knew that meant he was going to court that morning.
Then, shortly after I saw the cellie, he had court that morning.
The “holding tank” as they are called where we were held are for guys going to court, getting transferred, and new lock ups. There are two holding tanks right next to one another… separated by a Plexiglas window.
I was in one.
The cellie was in another
He saw me through the window and called me over.
Through the Plexiglas he asked, “You see G?”
“Yeah” I said. “I think he is going to court this morning too.”
The cellie looked like his entire world had just crashed down behind him.
That was my last memory that I took from that place.