Joyce Ann Clark's Birthday

September 13, 2009



Today my mother turns 64 years old. Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

I haven't seen or heard from my mother since my sentencing in 2003. She was there to witness her baby boy handed down a term of imprisonment just over a decade long. She cried. I was stoic.

After my release in 2002, I reunited with my mother and moved in. Her severe drug addiction I didn't think would be a problem for me. My drug of choice was Meth, her's was Crack. I thought I only needed to avoid tweekers and Meth. Boy was I wrong.

It only took a week for me to break weak and accept the pipe my mother offered me. "Just this once" I told myself.

That first hit was all it took... I was using Crack, Meth, and Heroin days later. I was a menace. Nobody was safe. I'd rob, cheat, and steal from anyone. Those I loved and cared about most, I purposely avoided... except mom. I protected her, took care of her the best I could, and made sure she had food and dope. A dysfunctional son's love never waivers, right?

I'm not sure where my mom is now, how she is or what she is doing or if she is even alive, but I am sure that I cannot see her ever again as she was. I love her dearly and know she wants me to be a good man and succeed in life...

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Survival of Goodness

September 12, 2009



Chuen came to the US in 1990 from China during the Tienanmen Square incident. While the brutal communist government was quelling it's student protests with inhumane and deadly force, Chuen took action. Risking torture, beatings and murder, he helped 5 students - Top Opposition Leaders - escape the brutal Chinese regime and flee the country. The irony of it was that Chuen himself was working for the communist government as an assistant to the top commerce officer for his state. At that time, the Chinese government controlled it's commerce. Chuen's job included requisitioning the government for nearly all things, from bicycles to coal. Chuen filed the papers with the government to purchase things from the government to be sold in his state. He earned a whopping $25.00 (US) a month and lived in government housing. He was fresh out of college, in his early 20's and living modestly.

When the Chinese government began it's barbaric suppression in 1989, Chuen chose to risk it all to help 5 wanted students whose only crimes were organizing and empowering students to demand democracy and freedom in China.

Utilizing his government position and his own personal savings, mainly his position, Chuen gathered approximately $500,000.00 and purchased fake IDs, fake passports and other necessary items to escape China. Then, he and his fellow defectors set out for a new life in another land. Canada was their destination. Beijing to Russia, Russia to Australia, Australia, Australia to Jamaica, Jamaica to Florida, Florida to Canada. 2 students stayed in Australia, Chuen stayed in Florida and the final 3 made it safely to Canada.

At a layover in Florida, Chuen grew impatient and called a friend in Miami who directed him to dispose of his fake documents and wait to be contacted there in the airport. An hour later an attorney greeted him and told him, "Welcome to the United States."

Chuen was granted political asylum by the US government. Only speaking his native tongue made it difficult for Chuen, but after silently listening to English spoken all around him for numerous years, he learned to speak and understand it well enough to converse.

Living menial job after menial job for nearly 20 years in the US, Chuen had gotten married (and in American fashion, had also divorced) and had a daughter. He lived a safe, modest life.

Today, however, Chuen is serving 2 years in ADOC for forgery. He's my next door neighbor here and was at Manzanita Unit. During very trying times he made a bad decision and is now paying his dues to society.

Without family contact, Chuen has accepted his punishment gracefully, doesn't complain and is a good man. He is a Christian in an all Buddhist family and his culture and values are amazing for me to observe. I am impressed with Chuen; we talk often and it is hard to imagine Chuen breaking the law. But he did. Just like so many other good people who are locked up have.

:)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DEAR FRIEND SUE!

Fond Memory of Childhood Trauma

September 8, 2009

It was 1988 and my sister and I lived with my father in a small duplex in Sunnyslope. I'd been locked up in Juvy a couple of times for truancy, incorrigibility, petty theft, and running away from home was a habit for both my sister and I but we had stayed this time.

I'd been enrolled in Royal Palm Jr. High School, but most school days I spent smoking pot, shoplifting and hanging out with neighborhood kids.

Blond Kenny, Red-head Kenny, Cinnamon, Sammy and a few other older teens my sister's age I hung out with, mostly. We were truly a motley, stoned bunch of kids.

One afternoon, on another stoned school day, my sister, me and Sherman (Cinnamon's 18 year old brother) decided to walk to the park on Dunlap and 12th St., so off we went. My sister carried a boom box blaring Ozzy Osborn as the three of us mobbed to the park.

After about 20 minutes I had managed to thoroughly piss off my sister who abruptly stormed off toward home. Like most little brothers, I had fine tuned my ability to push her buttons. A minute or two behind her, Sherman and I followed.

"Hey Shannon, wanna stop and smoke a joint?" Sherman asked me. "Yeah" I responded, as we headed behind a church a block from home.

As soon as we were behind the church, Sherman began to rough house with me. Still a tiny kid it took very little to pin my shoulders to the ground. With Sherman's nearly 200 pounds on top of me, I was completely defenseless. With his knees pinning my shoulders to the ground, I managed to say, "I give", before the first punch landed on my right cheek, instantly blinding me with a bright flash. For what seemed like twenty minutes, I felt blow after blow pound me in the face and head, as he ranted at me "I'll kill you! Stay away from my sister!" over and over and over.

"Look at me!" I heard him yell, as I became conscious. Somehow I had ended up on my stomach, partially curled into a ball, my arms protecting my battered face. "No, you'll kick me" I gurgled through the blood. "Just look at me!" he yelled. Afraid he'd continue his assault, if I didn't, I looked up at him. Although I saw nothing, I felt his hard foot land on my right cheek and everything went black.

I don't know how long I was unconscious. Crawling from behind the church into the parking lot, I was in and out of consciousness. Coming to, I heard my sister yell my name. Looking up, I could barely make out my sister running toward me before passing out again. Again I came to, this time I was being carried by my sister and I could see the fear in her face.

Waking up on the couch at home I could hear my sister talking frantically on the phone about me. I was completely confused, disoriented and afraid. Suddenly my sister looked me in the face, "hang in there Shannon", I heard her say to me. Tears erupted from my swollen eyes and I sobbed hysterically.

I learned later, after I'd returned home from the hospital, that my sister had gone to Sherman's home and hit him in the face. Much of that was hazy for me for many years afterwards. It was a very traumatic experience with consequences that stayed with me throughout my life. I refused to go to school or leave the apartment for a month. I was terrified.

Days later, both Sherman and Cinnamon came knocking numerous times, attempting to apologize, but I couldn't get up the nerve to answer the door. I could only hide just inside the door, my father's shotgun in my hand. Strangely, although I could have shot Sherman in fear, the gun was more for comfort and a brief suicidal thought.

Ironically, it turned out that Cinnamon had lied to her brother about me calling her a slut, not expecting him to nearly kill me.

Over the years, that memory of my sister has stuck with me. I've never doubted that she loves me, even in my worst times. Thank you Big Sis! I love you!

Sunrise Unit

September 3, 2009

It was an uneventful move to ASPC Lewis, Sunrise Unit. The unit itself is actually leased by ADOC from the Arizona Dept. of Juvenile Corrections and sits behind the ADOJC's Eagle Rock Unit. A small 100 bed facility, it's obvious that the unit was not prepared for the 70-something ADOC inmates that arrived yesterday and today.

Sunrise Unit, even with all of it's flaws and unpreparedness is far better than Manzanita. I am much more at ease and feel that I am getting more of the privileges, trust and freedom that I've earned through years of good behavior and proven change.

I suspect Sunrise Unit will only improve in time and I for one am willing to give it just that, and enjoy my new found freedom and responsibilities that come with it. For the first time, I finally feel my release date getting closer and I'll be free soon.

With a busy routine here, a couple of regular phone calls and visits with people I love, and my mail, time will fly by and I will soon be home.

Convictions of a Juvie

The following was originally posted on Jon's Jail Journal. It can be seen in original format here.


“This is your bunk,” the balding middle-aged man told me, his crooked finger pointing at an empty lower bunk.

As my tired eyes scanned the small bedroom containing four bunk beds, the smell of sweat assaulted my olfactories. “Can I get something to eat?” I asked, still unsure of whether the group-home parent was anybody to worry about.

His inebriated response told me how it was going to be with him. “No. Breakfast is a privilege here. You ain’t with your mommy and daddy anymore.”

As soon as John the house parent left the room, a toe-headed youngster sat up in the bed across from mine. “It’s OK, he’s an asshole to us all. I’ll get you something to eat.” He climbed out of the bed, and tiptoed to the door. He looked to be about ten-years old, which wasn’t a surprise to me. In my thirteen years, I’d learned that the world had unwanted kids of all ages. Sneaking out of the room, he left the door slightly ajar. Minutes later he returned with a girl of around fifteen years with black hair.

“Jimmy says, you’re new here and hungry. My name’s Alexis. I live down the hall. Here’s a muffin. This should get you until breakfast.” She told me with a coquettish smile. Accepting the muffin, I thanked her. The three of us sat around for a few minutes in whispered conversation before she snuck back to her room and we all went to sleep. Exhausted, I fell asleep fairly quickly.

Awoken by the sound of a loud menacing voice yelling, “Who the fuck did it?” I jumped up and quickly ran out of the door towards the racket. As I stood in the doorway of Alexis’ room, I saw four girls in their underclothes standing in a row with John before them, clearly in a rage. He had startled them awake and lined them up still half asleep. Scared, they hadn’t even noticed their near nakedness.

“Who ate my fucking food?” John yelled again, still unaware I was there. I could see the fear in Alexis’ pretty hazel eyes as John approached her face to face. Looking at her up and down in a lecherous manner, John asked, “You ate my muffin?” On the verge of tears, and now painfully aware of her near nakedness, Alexis looked ready to break.

Before I could even think it over, I blurted out, “I ate your stupid muffin!” Surprised, John turned on me, dumbfounded. His look of astonishment quickly turned to fury. He took a step toward me, so I quickly turned and dashed down the hall, finding myself in a dining room. The house was foreign to me, making me that much more panicked.

When John quickly entered the dining room, my mind was already in flight mode. As he came around the table, I picked a candle holder off a table and flung it at him. Ducking, it narrowly missed his head. Now even more enraged, he ran around the table, but I’d already shot out an open door into the kitchen.

Grabbing a small plastic jug sitting on the counter top next to the refrigerator, I threw it at the open door. Just as I’d hoped, the jug and its contents hit John in the chest as he entered. “Get the hell away from me!” I yelled, watching the water soak his shirt. Spying a door that locked outside, I shot towards it. Please be open, I thought as I reached for the doorknob. Moving too frantically, I fell out the door as it opened, sending me stumbling into some bushes in the backyard.

Fighting back the tears from fear and the pain from the scrapes and scratches, I got to my feet and was gone. Hitting the back fence, I was up and over in seconds, sprinting down the alleyway.

Days later, I’d be arrested for being out past curfew. To my disbelief, I learned that John had filed a police report saying I’d stolen $20 from his wallet and assaulted him when he confronted me.

I was charged with petty theft, adjudicated guilty and sent to Juvenile Detention for this “crime.” I’ve committed my share of crimes over the years. I deserved punishment, but who doles out the punishment for those working the system for their benefit?

Note from the moderator:

As many of you know, Shannon's clemency hearing was September 3rd. A very dear friend of Shannon's and I attended. I would like to thank him for being there and I must say that he spoke passionately, honestly and eloquently. I found myself choking back tears, several times, as I listened to him speak about Shannon and how far this sweet, compassionate, smart young man has come.

We were made aware of the verdict immediately and I will leave that for Shannon to share: to be posted at a later date.

~ Moderator.

All Good Times: Flying High

August 26, 2009

The road seemed to vanish. A streak of bright light snaked before me as my eyes tried to focus on the center divider of the secluded black-top. The stolen Mustang violently shaking around me wasn't enough to snap me from the trance I was in. My mind was racing. "Follow the light, keep it between the front tires. What are you doing, just crank the wheel and end it all." The thought flashed in my head... the song, "Goodbye to Romance" blared. Ozzy Osbourn usually didn't depress me but this song...

My thoughts tapered off moments before I gripped the steering wheel and turned it hard to the right, then to the left.

The world around me instantly swerved and then the streaks of light spun around and around me. The smell of melting tires filled my nostrils, then dust. Everything went out of focus and my eyes and throat burned as the screeching and scraping of metal hurt my ears. Then everything was still and silent followed by a bone jarring crash that brutally threw me around the inside of the car.

I felt warm liquid streaming down my face and my head throbbed. A metallic taste filled my mouth and world abruptly stopped spinning. I threw up all over myself.

I was sixteen years old then. It wasn't my first wreck, stolen car, suicide attempt or drug induced emotional breakdown. I was hell bent on ending my pain. Consequences be damned. By this point in my life, I saw no future for myself. I'd quit looking forward. Meth was a reliable friend. A little coke, a little weed and heroin took the edge off. Dulled the feelings that hurt. Some days I handled it well. Most days I was a mess.

More than 18 years have passed. I often look back and think of those times. I've questioned how I managed to survive. The answer is always the same... I was meant to live. I now know that I have purpose.

My life still has twists and and turns and pain, but I have plans written in the stars for the future. No, I'm not a religious fanatic, but a much higher power than myself can be the only answer. I was a wild child without any sense of what I wanted, needed or could obtain without stealing it.

Now... I am a human being... who cares.

A New Drug Test

August 24, 2009

Tonight I was randomly selected along with 20 or so others to be given a UA. COII Coffee led the charge, as usual, in this attempt to crackdown on drug usage at Manzanita Unit. As mentioned in an earlier post, CO II Coffee's mission seems to be to rid the unit of dope - and this tough, but fair, CO is essentially the only "effective" obstacle for drugs and users on this unit.

"Clark to visitation" the House 1 CO announced in my dorm. I then heard him call 5 others.

Going up to Visitation I listened to the others gripe about how they'd just pissed. So did I, but I kept it to myself. What good would complaining do? If I didn't produce within 2 hours I'd be on report for failure to produce. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

Entering the visit room, I saw COII Coffee and two other COs at a table. About a dozen guys sat in chairs around the visit room, Styro-foam cups in hand.

"Clark, here's your cup. Have a seat." Coffee greeted me. "Thank you", I replied cordially, accepting the cup and heading straight to the drinking fountain.

After ten minutes of idle chatter, joking, and a couple cups of water, I was ready to go. The guy before me wasn't able to produce, a medical condition, he explained. I was ready, waiting and on deck until it was explained to the guy before me that he had to pay for the UA. $20.00!!!! Now, I wasn't sure that I could produce. (Ha ha ha ha ha - stage fright! ~ moderator)

Entering the inmate restroom, for once it seemed warm. Brightly lit, but warm. "Strip", the CO that accompanied me told me. Pulling off my shirt I asked, "can I leave my socks on?" "Nope", he replied. Stripping completely naked - years of being strip searched has made me 100% comfortable being seen nude - I went through the typical search procedures.

Tearing open the sealed package containing the urine specimen cup and lid, "remove the cup and lid", the CO directed, extending the open metallic package toward me. I reached out, withdrew the cup and lid.

"Please don't touch the cup with your penis", He told me. I couldn't help but chuckle. The words spoken out loud sounded so funny to me. Without too much anticipation, I provided the sample requested.

Getting dressed, I watched the CO seal the lid of the cup and walk off. I hurriedly dressed to watch the new test cup at work. I walked to the table where Coffee sat, filling out the UA documents for my sample, which sat before her on the table.

"Were you able to find it to piss in that cup, Shannon?" A guy joked with me. "Yeah, I might not be able to touch the bottom of the cup but I can touch all sides", I responded, playing along.

"So how does this work?" I asked Coffee, crouching down to check out the UA cup. Crouching down next to me, she turned the cup so I could see the litmus strips built in the inside of the cup. "If a purple line appears on each of these, you're doing good", she explained, pointing at four points on the cup with tiny letters printed on it (OPI: Opiates. THC: Weed. BRB: Barbiturates. AMP: Amphetamines, BNZ:...??? ALC: Alcohol). "This test is extremely sensitive and accurate. See how all your lines are dark? That is excellent. If they are light it means you've messed around, but not in the past couple of days. If you've used in the past couple of days, no line appears. I'll usually let people slide if I can at least see a shadow of a line." Coffee told me. "This is interesting shit!" I told her. "Isn't it?" she agreed.

"What's a BNZ?" I asked, pointing to the letters. "Those are like the date-rape drugs, I think", she responded. "Well it's good to know I haven't been date-raped lately", I joked. She laughed and said, "You're good, go ahead and head back to your house."

Transfer

August 23, 2009

Yesterday I learned that I (and all Manzanita Unit minimums) will be transferred to the Lewis Complex in Buckeye, AZ within a couple of weeks. My address will change for those of you writing to me.

The move is part of ADOC's plan to make the Tucson Complex a medical / mental health complex. A smart money-saving action but lets hope ADOC improves the medical care at the complex. Currently it is severely lacking (in my opinion)... but then who am I to judge? Oh yeah, I'm the guy who has witnessed and experienced it first hand for around 4 years! What's a few dead bodies, permanent injuries, pain and suffering? We are only convicted felons (sarcasm).

eta: Shannon has already transferred to the Sunrise Unit at Lewis Complex in Buckeye, AZ. His new address is posted in the sidebar to the left. ~ Moderator