Notes from the Land of Oz

A Tale of Two Warrens

Among the 240 inmates who lived with me in the South Unit of the New Hampshire State Prison for Men, two had the same, somewhat unusual first name of Warren. Both Warrens shared other similarities besides name, though they are most remarkable for their differences. When I first met them, both had been down for about three years. Both had pled out to their crimes, avoiding trial. Both of their victims were their own wives.

Trial by Ordeal

It was a hot July day. I was walking in the yard in R&D, the prison's Receiving and Diagnostics Unit. The yard is a small piece of tarmac separated from the rest of the prison yard by a twelve-foot fence.


Big House Lasagna

I've heard that every prison has its own cuisine. I'm not talking about food served in the chow hall. Institutional food is institutional food no matter what the facility.  It is the same succession of tuna, ground beef, and sliced meat concoctions you remember from school cafeteria days. What I mean is the eclectic mix of recipes that result from the application of inmate ingenuity to the selection of foods available through the prison canteen.

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