Shrek Of The Arctic
Member
- Joined
- May 22, 2019
- Messages
- 290
- Reaction score
- 939
Thanks for the kind word. I truly appreciate it.
If I may be permitted a moment of reflection...
When I started out in this life as burnt out oilfield trash, I started at the Max in my state. I don't need to tell ya' what the day shifts were like-Those don't seem to change anywhere. Whatever your post, whatever your duties, you better be hustling. But the nightshift...That was where we tried to rest our bodies, minds, and souls, assuming all hell didn't break loose for some reason or another. I get a feeling that may be pretty common across facilities as well.
So, after lockdown, in each housing unit, we would find a single person to do the security check for four mods, or we would all just break and go do our respective security checks. Assuming we didn't find pruno, tattooing, fighting, PREA, wild gunslingers, have to do property roll ups, etc. we would re-convene in the Sergeant's office to share coffee, and just...tell stories, jokes, etc. These were my favorite times in this career. I absolutely loved the war stories from the old hands who had walked those tiers before me. Their stories were fascinating, funny, entertaining, exciting, though provoking...and most of all educational to us newer officers who knew to pay attention. I learned much better from these times than from being beaten about the head and shoulders repeatedly with policy and procedure, and post orders. I was always thankful for the experienced older hands who had so much to offer those of us who would listen during those times. I think those were the only nightshifts I ever worked that I came home feeling...refreshed...at least mentally. I get a feeling I would have really liked to have had you there with us.
As sincere as I could possibly be...congratulations on getting out of this job alive. to have a life...farther from this. You and I both know the same bleak set of statistics. So, for all those who ever assaulted you, hazed you, verbally abused you, tried to buy you, and tried to hem you up...The best revenge is a life well lived. Hug them grandbabies, playfully swat the old ladies rump, play with the dog, read the paper, finish the crossword puzzle, go for that Gun Broker treasure, or whatever it is that brings you joy and peace. You've earned it.
If I may be permitted a moment of reflection...
When I started out in this life as burnt out oilfield trash, I started at the Max in my state. I don't need to tell ya' what the day shifts were like-Those don't seem to change anywhere. Whatever your post, whatever your duties, you better be hustling. But the nightshift...That was where we tried to rest our bodies, minds, and souls, assuming all hell didn't break loose for some reason or another. I get a feeling that may be pretty common across facilities as well.
So, after lockdown, in each housing unit, we would find a single person to do the security check for four mods, or we would all just break and go do our respective security checks. Assuming we didn't find pruno, tattooing, fighting, PREA, wild gunslingers, have to do property roll ups, etc. we would re-convene in the Sergeant's office to share coffee, and just...tell stories, jokes, etc. These were my favorite times in this career. I absolutely loved the war stories from the old hands who had walked those tiers before me. Their stories were fascinating, funny, entertaining, exciting, though provoking...and most of all educational to us newer officers who knew to pay attention. I learned much better from these times than from being beaten about the head and shoulders repeatedly with policy and procedure, and post orders. I was always thankful for the experienced older hands who had so much to offer those of us who would listen during those times. I think those were the only nightshifts I ever worked that I came home feeling...refreshed...at least mentally. I get a feeling I would have really liked to have had you there with us.
As sincere as I could possibly be...congratulations on getting out of this job alive. to have a life...farther from this. You and I both know the same bleak set of statistics. So, for all those who ever assaulted you, hazed you, verbally abused you, tried to buy you, and tried to hem you up...The best revenge is a life well lived. Hug them grandbabies, playfully swat the old ladies rump, play with the dog, read the paper, finish the crossword puzzle, go for that Gun Broker treasure, or whatever it is that brings you joy and peace. You've earned it.
