Whassup how are you? First off my love and and support goes out o Dashawn Evans and his family. Just reading the pamphlet it got my head spinning. I show my woman of my first born child when she came to visitation what we go through. All I can do is pray because God has bless me with my first son and I wanna be there for him and not him suffer without his biological father like I did. Dashawn Evans death has touched me in a strong way and it hurts to know that it could’ve been me or any other brothers. I don’t care if u black, white, chinese or even hispanic. I learn being incarcerated to love thy neighbor  – its too much evil in this world. I wish what I did never happened but when you become a pawn on the devil’s chessboard don’t no good come from it. I don’t like it. I see my brothers wake up faithfully because of the grace of God, but actually no one wants to even get out their pod cuz this place is depressing. Bad enough how we get fed is pitiful. Like, come on, they feed us like we babies at daycare. Like on 6/27/18 my dinner tray had soup, but it looked like somebody scoop some of it back off the tray and I had a piece of cornbread about the size of a newborn’s hand. Many of us had about nothing on the tray. It is sad for the ones that don’t have commissary and their stomachs touching their backs down to the worn down blue mats. It’s sad, painful and people are tired of it. All this money Durham get, but where does it go? For real. It’s bad enough that this jail making money off of us, but worse to know people is dying in here. I thought coming here was to finally sit down and get our minds right, but how can that happen under these dysfunctional conditions? Every charge and incarceration I have received in Durham was under the influence of alcohol and drugs, but why is it that every time I try to get in a treatment programs there is all this unnecessary stuff added along. I’m asking for help but I don’t receive it. I thought I was safe and protected but I am not here. It’s no different than being on the streets and being gun down by police. Once again our lives in the hands of the government and we still suffer. This is crazy, but it’s reality. I just ask God to be with Dashawn and his family and all of us. I do have love for the staff in this jail, but I just think a lot of stuff needs to change. Instead of so quickly locking us back at 12:45 and 6:45 in the afternoon. I wanna be able to go home to my family that God bless me with. Thanks M. for asking my response cuz nobody else ask me how it is except my family. If you can send me some books to read, I write songs based on the stories I read, hear, and tell. – DYNESTE (God Bless Us All).

“As you walk past”

I’m poor and needy,

These hands dirty and greedy,

My clothes are old and worn,

unto poverty I was born,

I fight every day that I take breath,

I’ll keep fighting even until death,

I walk among shadows and I remain unseen,

The rich are death and blind it would seem,

Crime becomes a need to survive, or act upon

My thoughts of suicide,

People ask why I live

This way, I shake

My head not knowing what to say,

Do you know me? and do you even care?

Questions I ask as you walk past like I’m not even there,

Your world and mine are 2 different places,

As you walk past my face is just another among many faces.

By: Wallace Eubanks

So many things are happening in the free world. Many want change and seek it out, yet continue to climb the wall of oppression that we as people have build. I know that sounds impossible but it’s true. All our laws we bend and add to and do away with, when we fight to change these we dig deeper the hole that will soon be our grave. Once we were a “free nation” or so we claimed, yet people were enslaved. We boasted freedom and still do, but our laws enslave and our leaders hold the leash. We fight, they pull, we are divided not truly united. When as a whole nation have we stood together on the major issues we are faced within our own borders?

We elect officials to represent our countries, cities, states, and the whole nation, how many of them really stand up for the people? Do they walk through our ghettos, trailer parks, and homeless streets and ask what can they do for the very people they represent? They say kind words and give promises when it’s time to vote and when they are elected they become shadows and make excuses why they can’t uphold the promises made. By our laws we elect them and by our laws he is protected. We try to change them and they bend and remake them. It looks good at the time until the fine print plunges us back into darkness. My hope is this: never give up the pursuit of the true love for one another that makes us equal in every way. Only then will we truly have freedom.

Our world leaders are blinded by power and the “king of the hill” mentality. They fight one another to be the best, they do not see one another as equal, and is then passed down to the people of these nations. Hate is like cancer that spreads until it devours its host. It has spread all over the world into the hearts of many. We have done this to ourselves, generation after generation it has been passed down, yet I have Hope!

Love is far greater than any amount of hate. As a people we could make a difference and an impact greater than we could conceive. It must start with the individual, then as groups with like minds & hearts. Many fight for equality yet do not stand equal.

Groups fight independently for rights, when we we all should stand together. This sounds impossible in the world we live I know. Love binds together, hate spreads apart. Until we understand this as a people, I am afraid we will destroy what we are fighting so hard for. . .

I am so ready to face my freedom. These cells work in two ways: they “break down” and they “build up”. I am stronger behind all this. I want you to know I am grateful for your letters, C—. I wish more people would write, but I am thankful for what you I do here. I wish I had a steady female companion to exchange letters of hope and to possibly build upon other than the extreme loneliness that my heart has become used to. You must forgive me, my emotions sometimes get the best of me. I also like to speak my mind and feelings.

-Wallace Eubanks

It happened one week ago. One of us is gone – one of our male inmates. The tragedy in jail – again: another death. We are sorry and scared. Frustrated. And of course; needless to say; we want to know the truth; we want to know what happened. It would be so natural and respectful if the jail administration informed us about this tragedy. It’s so clear that it shouldn’t have to be proven. Because the lack of information produces gossip. And also it produces fear. Let me start. My tablemate told me: it was suicide. The teacher from one of my classes thinks this man just took the wrong medicine. One girl is literally terrified. When they found his body the blood was everywhere in the cell, she told me. So we incarcerated people trying to figure out about that and started to ask those working in here. We deserve to know the truth at least because it happened in here where we live!! in jail!! But the officials disagree with our natural curiosity. “No, you should not ask, it has nothing to do with you” – those are literally the words of an official (let’s say her name is Mary). “Oh big pardon, ma-am! We are STILL HERE and want to be SAFE!” This is not the first case of death around us. It is not even the second. Now, a young 23 year old man has died. It is unrevocable. It’s scary and horrible in itself and also because we are in potential danger. Nobody in here wants to help us. Is it hopeless or can you help????

By F.L.

PS: (different author) The staff here does not care about the well-being or respect or dignity of the inmates. it’s like the staff only cares that you are here to do your time. Nothing else.

Signed by the women’s pod (see photo)

This girl looked very young, at first I thought she was 15 or 16 (we have those age girls at the pod too and stop wondering why such a young girl are here with insignificant (not felony) misdemeanors in here with experienced criminals – but I’ll write about that next time).

She is 24 years old. Tomorrow is one of the worst days of her short life – the funeral of her boyfriend. He left this life one week ago, the same day that she got here. An overdose. No need to say that she wanted to be close to him one last time and say “goodbye” – at the very least. It didn’t happen. Mrs. Bell didn’t give her permission to go to the funeral, because she is not a wife, just a girlfriend. Anna and James (not their real names) were together for 7 years and have two daughters. They did love each other. When Anna learned that James died, she lost consciousness. Her grief is huge, and what’s with the combination of being in jail, just unbearably painful.

Her felony is not proven yet but she already must suffer from punishment being here. Plus one more punishment – lacking the very right to say “bye” to the one she loved only because she did not have official papers.

I know it’s a jail policy that you can only go to a funeral if you have an official connection. But it is still not normal and not human! But again – who cares – in their view, let the young widow suffer, if she is in jail, she must deserve it!

– F. L.