Indiana State Prison 

Greetings! You and I have a lot in common. I like to party, I like fast women, I like fast cars, I like living the fast lane, but soon found out:

By then it was way too late. Listen to someone who is looking from the inside out. Listen to a year in the life of prison; maybe, you might decide to change your way. I want you to be aware of:

The fast lane leads to the fast road to prison. I'm not telling about honor camps or state farms, these places are a Joke compared to The Big House. The Joint. I'm talking about real prison, The Big House, The Joint is doing time for real.

Much like you, I was a first time offender. Along with other first time offenders, riding on the bus entering the prison, all you see is a surrounding forty foot wall, with gun towers, and two big entrance gates. Inside the Big House, The Joint, it stinks, its loud, and there is nonstop chaos. Its been called the city that never sleeps. It's a city all its own, a city inside a city. The difference is the population is all killers and thugs. A dungeon filled with the most violent and hated criminals in the state. Welcome to a whole new neighborhood; welcome to your new home. The cells are 8'x10' with steel bars running across the front. You have a sink unit, a bunk, and a cabinet, that's it. Just enough room to pace back and forth. Get used to it. You will spend a lot of time in that cell. You're the new kid In town, you best be prepared. If you are young, small or scared you are in big trouble. Soon you will find:

Its January-
After a normal night of guys yelling up and down the ranges all night, and on four hours sleep, its breakfast time. The guard walks by unlocking everyone's cell. I hope this morning is not like yesterday; my neighbor was badly beaten all because he was new, young and didn't know anyone. He was carried away and never returned that day.

As I walk out of the cell house, I see two lovers walking down the hallway holding hands. Wait a minute, This is an all men's prison, no women. Two men kissing or holding hands is a common sight. Here, these type of strange sights are a way of life. As I approach the chow hall I get in my regular line. All the whites sit on one side and all the blacks sit on the other. Racial tension to the extreme. After I finish the quick snack, they call a meal, its back to the cell house. As I walk up the stairs, back to my cell, I see someone lying on the range motionless, surrounded by a puddle of blood. Everyone just steps over and keeps walking; No doubt a result from dope, gambling or the many homosexuals.

The Joint is locked down because of the stabbing. Now I'm locked in the cell twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. We get fed twice a day. Snack sacks they are called because that's all they amount to; one snack sack about 8am; the other around 6pm. The morning sack has two boiled eggs and three small boxes of cereal. That's it, to last you until six. The evening sack has a bologna sandwich, a small bag of chips and an apple. That's it, to last you until 5am. No more visits; no more phone calls; no more commissary; no more recreation; no nothing for the duration of the lockdown.

Its May-
The lockdown lasted four months. Four months of two snack sacks a day and confined to this cell all day and night is finally over. Summer is here, time to get out of this cell house and enjoy the weather. Time to get back to the gym and gain some weight back. That canary diet must have taken off fifteen pounds. Anger and tension is high, frustration is everywhere. It would be nice to see a woman, all I see is muscle bound thugs, praying on the weak.

Its June-
A few months pass of the monotonous daily routine. My strength is starting to finally come back. Everyone's put back into the cell house, its another lockdown. This time for an execution. A convict is going to die tonight in the electric chair. The atmosphere is gloomy, constant noise as usual. I hope to get five hours sleep tonight, I know it won't be easy. After the execution, the regular schedule Is in affect. Convicts are rowdy, death is in the air. Sure enough, everyone is put back into the cell house. An officer Is killed; retaliation from the convicts. Stabbings, killings, robberies is a way of life here. All summer has been spent locked In this tiny cell getting two snack sacks a day. Everyone pays for the actions of one convict.

It's October-
We've been locked down a while now. All my hard work on the weight pile was useless. I better make my last pack of cigarettes last, no telling how long we will stay locked down this time. The guards are doing shakedowns. They bring dogs in and search everyone's cell for drugs and weapons. They tear our cells apart, going through everything; I'm handcuffed watching them toss my belongings around, trashing my cell. After they trash the cell and confiscate whatever they want, They put me back in and go to the next man.

It's December-
Still on lockdown with no end in sight. I haven't smoked a cigarette in months, I'd give almost anything for a pack. The guards despise the convicts and vice-versa. I often wonder what they are putting on our food; I know they want revenge for their fellow officers death. Christmas time spent in this tiny cell, all alone; no more parties; no more women; no more fun; these things are a vague memory as the years pass. My days are now spent watching my back when I leave my cell or spent an lockdowns; no future In sight. Out of the past four years, two of them on lockdowns; eight months here; four months there. There's been eight unrelated stabbings and three unrelated killings.

Here at the prison, young first time offenders like you are in demand. You will be very popular among the convicts who have been here twenty years. They have not seen a woman for so long that when you walk in you will be the next best thing. So, you keep living that fast lane; you keep running those streets and I will see you In here. See you soon! 

Larry Jeffries 904993
Indiana State Prison
P.O. Box 41
Michigan City, IN 46361

Note:  Although no longer at Michigan City, Larry is still incarcerated at a medium security prison in Indiana.  He wrote this pamphlet in hopes that some young person who is about to go over the edge into the abyss of HELL will read it and stop before it is too late. He has felt the sting of hell and he wants to reach young people with his story!  This is a copy of a pamphlet written by Larry, one of my college students. I met Larry when I was teaching college classes at several Indiana correctional institutions. I told him that I would publish his pamphlet on the Internet and maybe someone will stumble across it and heed his warning!   Larry is personable, sharp, very intelligent, and very incarcerated behind bars: what a waste.  Currently this pamphlet is given to juveniles by several probation officers in Indiana.