Hilltop and Scrabble: Memories from a decade later! I can't believe it has been 10 years.

It has been 10 years since I pulled chained from Dawson State Jail in Dallas to go to TDCJ at the Hilltop Unit in Gatesville. I can’t believe it!!! Sometimes when I think back to my time in prison it is almost like I am thinking of another person and in a way that is true because I am a new creation in Christ. Old things have passed away and all things have become new! (2 Corinthians 5:17)  This was one of the scariest moves of all because we were going to our unit, would get a job, and probably be at this location for awhile. Before this we had been with people who just got to prison, we had all arrived at about the same time from our different counties. I didn’t have a clue what to expect all I know is I was terrified.

We arrived at Hilltop in the morning and were assigned our jobs and dorms. Thankful that I got to be a librarian instead of the dreaded hoe squad I went to the chow hall to eat lunch. It was there we were separated from our group and I started walking to my dorm by myself carrying my commissary bag, the sheets that felt as if they were made of sand paper, the rough wool blanket, the whites which were the clothes we wore daily, black slip on shoes with no support, and the green coat that had been issued to me. The only thing I knew about my dorm was it was called the Big Timer dorm, I didn’t have a clue what that meant, honestly there was a popular rap band at the time called Big Tymer’s and I thought it might be a group of inmates who enjoyed rap music : )

Once I stepped into the dorm the officer pointed to my bunk which was right by the guard station. This was a different set up than what I had experienced before. At both Woodman and Dawson we were in huge barn like dorms with rows of bunk beds and you had one little space to keep your commissary. At Hilltop we had cubicles that were L shaped, the wall was only waist high but it was like we had our own little room and some privacy from the other 50 or so inmates in the dorm. I was just so excited to have a little space of my own. After unpacking I decided to walk around the dorm and introduce myself to people. I didn’t want friends but I didn’t’ want to appear unfriendly either.  Looking across the dorm at the different women I wondered what they had done, how long they had been locked up, and how long their sentences were.

The majority of women I had been with since I arrived were drug offenders. One girl had been convicted of intoxication manslaughter but most had been convicted of various drug offenses. I was looking around and said hi to the girl who was in the cubicle next to me and she said hi back but wasn’t very talkative. She was a small, older lady and the only thing that was distinctive about her were the tear drops tattooed on her face as if they were coming out of her eye. There were three tear drops. My thoughts were that she had been in a gang and the tear drops represented people she had killed but I wasn’t sure why I thought that : if that came from some movie I watched or when I had training on gangs when I taught school in Amarillo. All I knew is I wasn’t going to ask her a question about the tear drops.

Scanning the dorm I looked at one woman who seemed to be pleasant, I based this assumption by the look on her face. Walking over I introduced myself by saying “My name is Susan and I am a drug offender doing a two year sentence” She looked me up and down with disgust and hissed that she was in for killing her kids. Shocked by her admission I just turned and started walking back to my bunk. As I was going down the row a woman who was quite intimidating motioned for me to come over to her. Looking around to make sure she wasn’t talking to someone else I walked over because I was scared not to. In a firm voice she said “This isn’t summer camp and you need to quit walking around trying to make friends telling these women about your little sentence. This is called the big timer dorm because most everyone in here is doing big time without the possibility of parole or it will be at least 40 years until they have a chance.” I was dumbfounded and just stared at her then she started pointing to people.

The first girl she pointed to was looking around frantically, her hair was wild and out of control and I could see mental illness in her eyes as they darted around looking at the other inmates fervently. My new prison mentor said “That girl decapitated her parents and tried to sew the heads on the other body, she was just released from the mental ward unit” My first thought was who in their right mind determined she was sane because as we were talking she started crawling around on the floor. Swallowing hard I looked to where the inmate pointed next bracing myself for what was to come.

She pointed to another girl with short spiky hair and as I looked at her eyes I saw evil, there was no other way to describe it. She just looked hard and evil “That girl micro waved her baby and tried to feed it to her husband" I just shut my eyes, shocked by what I was hearing and leaned back against the concrete post we were standing by.

Lastly she pointed to another girl; this girl appeared to be educated by the array of books stacked in her cubicle. She had make up on and her hair pulled back in a pony tail with her bangs styled and seemed to be the most stylish of the inmates in the dorm. My mentor said “that girl was a teacher in Richardson and killed her two boys the day after Christmas because she lost them in a custody battle.  If you were in the Dallas area you may have seen this on the news as it was a high profile case”

Shocked and overwhelmed I went to sit on my bunk and tried to think what to do. I was in a murderers’ dorm and I was sure they had made a huge mistake. Quickly I went up to the guard and told him that I thought there had been a mix up because I was a VERY VERY NON VIOLENT drug offender (With a lot of emphasis on the many verys and non violent). He looked me in the eye and said there was no mistake and that I need to go to my bunk. I walked the two feet to my bed and sat down. For the first time very thankful that I would be sleeping right by the guards.

As time went on I got used to living in the murderers’ dorm. My bunk mate with the tear drops was doing a 40 year drug sentence, that is what she said at least and I just accepted it. I never asked her what the tear drops were for. I spent most of my time on my bed reading but that would get very old so one day I went to the sitting room which consisted of 5 metal tables with metal chairs that were all welded to the ground. They couldn’t be moved because they could be used as weapons if there was a fight.

The inmates could watch TV or play board games in the sitting room. The favorite game to play was Scrabble and the women played it all the time. This day I decided to join in a game or at least observe. Approaching one table I watched as one of the women (she had murdered her husband because he pissed her off ) was laying out her tiles on the board.  As I looked at the “word” she played I decided to help with the game. As a former teacher I prided myself in my vocabulary skills and ability to spell which are huge assets for game of Scrabble. Looking at the “word” on the board I politely said “what you played is really not a word” thinking they would appreciate my knowledge and help. The murderer looked up sharply and started to stand as she said, well really screamed , “IT IS A WORD”. I slowly put both hands up and said “oh yeah, it is a word, I was mistaken” The murderer smiled smugly and sat back down and the game went on with a variety of “words”. Scrabble was a free for all!!!

Later I would come to refer to this game as Spelon with Felons, purposely misspelling the word because it was fitting for how Scrabble was played in prison but I guess not surprising when you think about it. Some of the inmates referred to me as "Schoolteacher" and at times they would ask me to come settle a dispute but I would always decline because I learned if a scary murderer says a word is a word it is !!! At least it was in prison.

The Hoe Squad and Big Timers from Susan DeFace Washington on Vimeo.