A day in 2003 as written by MW, in prison in Washington state.
In 2003, I was doing time at the Washington State Reformatory. When I first arrived there, I met a new friend named J--. Like me, he was a Native American.
J-- was cool-minded and laid back. He was in his late 30’s, early 40’s and very sick. I can’t discuss his condition but I knew he was dying. J-- was always watching the birds dance and singing his heart out to the rhythm of the drum beat. As time passed, I got to know him and know that he was one of the toughest individuals I knew.
One day, me, J-- and a couple others were eating. J-- was so sick that he fell backwards off the seat that he was sitting on and bumped his head hard on the guard rail behind him. He quickly got back up and resumed his seat, waving everyone away and pretending like everything was fine. You could tell that he was in pain. He was proud and didn’t like to show weakness. But as he sat there tears began to well in his eyes and he began to cry. He was fighting it with all he had, trying not to show any emotion.
After we ate, I escorted him back to his cell and always watched over him. I risked getting infracted and disciplined because I wanted to make sure nothing happened to him on the way to his cell…. Seeing J-- like that opened my eyes that day.