Prison Seekers

Have you ever felt like you are trapped with your life?

This past Saturday I learned first hand what it means to be trapped with no place to go.

I went to prison in Danville, Kentucky.

As part of a softball team called the Seekers I was able to enter prison. There we were able to play softball with a bunch of guys who are trapped, tethered, and relinquished to limited space that was predominately concrete and obviously surrounded by shiny metal razor wire.

There was a definite sadness in the prison. Guys were joking around and laughing but it was harsh, course and sarcastic. There was not much positive feedback from teammate to teammate and even less from the crowd gathered to watch us play. It seems that can be expected from a person who has been restricted to bleak, sanitized and locked space with fellow delinquents. That state of sadness comes out in discussions with the men. It seems they have only one thing on their mind and that is to be strong or to win. I thought for sure they would all talk about getting out, how much more time they have, maybe things they miss but their focus was really on how bad everything inside was except that some of them actually did not want to leave or were very scared to leave while still trying to beat the system

Inside the prison there are expectations and everyone knows what those expectations are, there are few variables. It makes it more secure for inmates, visitors and guards. It also gives the inmates structure that many of them need and many of them desire and many can’t do without once they leave the 20 foot high fence confines.

It is sad to see men, who I believe naturally crave adventure and sovereignty, desiring to remain incarcerated because he believes he can’t function without some type of outside rigid force aiding him in decision making on an hourly or so basis. This is not how men were made to live.

I can’t nor want to get into all of the psychological theories that can be spoken about concerning inmates. The fact of the matter is they are there serving time and hopefully learning about what it will take to live in a manner non-offensive to society the next time around. It is literally the next time around. When one enters prison your life is no longer your own. You do nothing without someone having the ability to see what you are doing in person or on camera .

This weekend I also gained a great respect for the people who serve the population within the walls of the prison. Clearly guards and others working within the four walls are putting their lives on the line to protect the public and aid in the development of the prisoners. From these men and women I did hear quite often in fact positive words and encouragement toward the incarcerated. It is my guess that they get little of the respect they deserve for assisting us in a difficult task.

For the guys on the team I went with I am appreciative they let me be part of them. The entire time we where behind the walls of the prison the men of the Seekers were positive and up beat cheering on both teams, mingling with the prisoners and showing gratitude for the workers. The Seekers even ate a lunch of beans, Spanish rice, cole slaw and cornbread with the prisoners all with a smile on their faces and laughter in their voices. The prisoners loved it because the Seekers had to pay $1.00 for lunch inside the prison. One inmate chided the state government saying that he gets his kid’s school newsletter and that his first grader gets bigger portions of food than full grown men; from what I saw I think he is correct.

I have thought about that prison trip numerous times since “getting out” after the games. I can see myself going through the double gates, talking with officers behind bulletproof glass to use a restroom, seeing foul balls get cut in the razor wire, the inmates all wearing the same beige clothing, at least 12 foot fencing around everything and hearing that eerie sound of metal on metal as another set of bars or a solid metal door closes behind me. All of those reminders of being held captive and I think that really the worst prison is that the men I saw allowed themselves to be held hostage. It is not just the walls impeding these men it is themselves in many cases. There is no need to go into the discussions I had but these men were more trapped emotionally and spiritually than physically.

I look around and I clearly see walls around the people of the Dominican Republic and Haiti poverty, lack of education and the list goes on. At times my walls are not much different than those in the DR, Haiti or from behind the concrete of Danville. I am grateful for those who have gone before to show how to tear down walls and the toughness of my heart and mind.

I do have to share a faith story with you while I was in prison. First let me tell you that in all of the games I have played with the Seekers I have hit only singles. It is important to, at the very least put up a good battle against the inmates. Needless to say everyone on the team hits homeruns, except me. Not even once have I hit a double. This is an important fact to know.

This week the Seekers lost the first two games of the day, again not a good thing in prison. After the second game I got to share a little of my life story and pray. At the end of my prayer I asked God to allow us to hit a few homeruns. We went on a homerun derby the next game. Even yours truly hit his first homerun EVER! The inmates were even hooting and hollering for me when it went over the fence. They started clamoring things about God hearing my prayer and angles carrying the ball over the wall. I know it was not luck or my smooth swing or even a loaded bat!