Jailbreaks I Have Known

  I’ve had some thoughts about jailbreaks since three inmates skedaddled away from the jail here in the county seat a few days ago.  They spent 4 days running around town before the cops captured them in a big SWAT-type operation about a mile from the county lockup.

  Jailbreaks can be a hot topic.

  Lots of folks have lots to say about ‘em:  About the escapees, about the folks who run the jail, about this, about that, and then before you know it we’re arguing amongst ourselves over national politics and stuff.

  All because some folks made a bad choice.

  When we talk about people locked up in the county detention center there are all kinds of opinions.

  A number of people in county jails haven’t had their day in court.  Then again a number of them are in there for doing stupid shit.

  There’s a number of people on the outside who look at the residents of county jails as a lifeform somewhat no better than cattle.

  When you ask some outside jail what they’d think if they were tossed in the can they might be the type who’d say, “That’ll never happen to me!”

  And yet there are those who find themselves in jail over such things as accidentally underpaid fines or situations that blew up in their face…fighting over a parking spot at Wal-Mart for instance.

  Thing is I’ve always believed there’s a lot of folks in jail who’ve done dumb shit but didn’t have the money to bond themselves out or pay for a decent attorney.

  One time I was with a co-worker at the county fairground when we passed by some county jail inmates in orange jumpsuits working on a project.

  The co-worker rolled up her window and locked the car door.

  “What’s that about?” I asked.

  “Protecting myself against the inmates,” she said.

  I laughed.

  “Seriously?” I said.  “What are they going to do?”

  “You never know,” she said.  “You never know.  THOSE ARE CONVICTS.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said.  “There’s a lot of folks in jail awaiting trial, not convicted of anything.  They just don’t have the money to bond themselves out.  They’re everyday folks who want the whole problem to be over with.”

  “There are people in jail who’ve killed people,” she said.

  “And I daresay they’re not out on work details,” I said.

  “Inmates have killed people,” she went on.

  “Free people have killed people,” I said.  “You really ought to consider walking in other people’s shoes before you’re so quick to judge.”

  My co-worker didn’t say much to me for the next few days until she got over herself.

  I was exposed to jailbreaks close-up when I lived on the east side of Amarillo back in the early 90’s. 

  I lived in the subdivision that, once upon a time, was base housing for Amarillo Air Force Base.  The base closed in 1968.  Someone had the foresight to invest in the duplexes and…poof…cheap housing.

  Across the field, just a rifle shot from the housing, was the Potter County Jail.

  Folks in the housing area had dogs.  I did too, but I had mine because they were longtime companions.  While I’m sure lots of other folks had dogs for the same reason, more than one neighbor at one time or another told me they had a dog specifically to have some barking in case inmates escaped from the county jail.

  And escape they did.

  A number of them got out by basically using their bare hands to pull apart the jail’s cinderblock walls, climbing through the hole and getting the hell out of the area.

  There must’ve been four jailbreaks from that place in the time I lived there and every time the escapees had no intention of heading for the nearby houses.

  There’d be a small story in the local newspaper some time later saying the escapee had been picked up in a distant Texas town, Alabama or some other distant place.

  Now here at the county seat there was an inmate whose escape I found quite memorable. 

  The story begins with an everyday citizen of the county seat sitting in his house, in his living room, in his easy chair on a Wednesday morning watching “Gunsmoke” on his TV.

  His front door flies open and a guy in an orange jump suit runs through his living room, on through the kitchen then out the back door.

  Everyday citizen gets up from his easy chair to go stand at the doorway to the kitchen and look out the back door just in time to see the orange jumpsuit dude clamber over the backyard fence.

  Then everyday citizen is startled by another big noise from the front door.

  Two uniformed guys are charging through the house.

  “Sorry for barging in, sir,” said one uniform in motion, “In pursuit of an escaped inmate.”

  No sooner had uniform finished talking than he and his compadre were out the back door and over the back fence.

  I understand the inmate was caught a couple of hours later.

  I don’t know exactly how he got away.  I think he just made a mad dash from his handlers.

  Now there was quite a stir when eight inmates broke out of the county lockup back in the summer of 2008. 

  As the news guy for a local radio station I had seen the press release from the county sheriff when I started working on my news before the morning show.  I wondered if I should ride my bicycle to work that morning like I always did.

  I decided I would and I did.  Like my momma told me one time, “If your number’s up, it’s up.”

  As I rode through the mostly empty streets of town I saw a friend taking a morning walk.

  “Hey Red*,” I called out as I rode up to him in the pre-dawn light.

  “Hey Grant,” he said.

  “Hey, I know you’re an ex-Marine and all,” I said, “But still, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that 8 guys broke out of the county jail last night.”

  Red stood there for a few moments and looked this way and that.

  “Well,” he said smiling, “I think I’ll head on home.”

  Seven of the escapees were caught within 2 months of the jailbreak.  The eighth would be on the lam for about 4 years before he was caught in Mexico.

  There used to be trees outside the county lockup.

  That’s the thing I remember the most about that incident.  Afterwards county crews cut down the trees growing next to the building…the escapees had used them to shimmy down from the roof.

  The lack of trees just added to the sterile look of the place.  But who cares about the aesthetics of a jail?

  I think about folks who break out of jail.

  Living in the moment.

  Not thinking of the consequences.

  Not thinking that when they get picked up, and they eventually are, there’ll be even more trouble.

  I reckon they're possessed of an inability to see the big picture.

  But that’s probably what got a lot of folks in jail in trouble in the first place.

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*Not his real name.