following morning, Mr. Ingram was again present but not sitting at the desk
when I entered to visit Gary, so I had no interaction with him. The duty
officer I had spoken with Friday evening came into the room, approached me,
introduced herself, and inquired whether I had encountered any problems that
morning. I thanked her and told her everything had been fine. But I
noticed Mr. Ingram watching, rather intently, during my conversation with
the duty officer. After her departure from the visiting room, Mr. Ingram
made a show of putting on gloves, and as visits ended, prisoners leaving the
visiting room were strip-searched, two at a time, despite the written policy
that any prisoner required to remove clothing for a search would be searched privately,
not in the presence of other prisoners.
Gatlinburg, TN, Christmas, 2009
Visiting with Gary had escalated, not relieved, my concern about his well-being. He was not feeling well, and he was not functioning well. From the time Gary was first allowed to call me, and I became aware of the withholding of his medications, I asked that he would call me for just one minute each morning at 6:15, just to let me know he was still alive and hadn't died during the night. Before making the long drive home that Saturday night, I removed my contact lenses and, sitting in my parked car, cried uncontrollably, grieving the loss of so much of the husband I love.
Let's take a break here, Judy. In our next installment, we'll hear a lot more about what life in federal prison is like. Stay tuned!
My recent interview with Judy , October 13, 2010