A sweet e-mail and a sad healing memory

 There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4 NKJV)

I got the sweetest e-mail from a childhood friend’s mother yesterday.  Many of you know Todd Hall; this was from his mother Ione. She knew my mother well and she just sent me a note saying my mother was always so proud of me and even in her addiction that pride showed. It made me cry (I am crying now as I write this). It is so nice to hear that because that is all I ever wanted: for them to love me and be proud of me but they just couldn’t express it because of their pain. She also told me she was VERY proud of me and that touched me deeply.

One thing I always remembered about Ione was her helping me after mother died. Kathey had gone back to Panhandle and daddy to the lake. That left me alone in the house on Van Pelt. Friends had brought food and Ione helped me return the dishes. I didn’t know what to do because I just didn’t have any instruction in that area, thinking the masking tape on each dish with the name written on it was just to tell me who brought what. I was a little clueless.

She was so nice because it had been awhile since momma died and she stopped by to help me and taught me a basic etiquette. I felt ashamed and guilty that I had not returned the dishes but she was so nice when I felt so lost and alone.  Her e-mail made me think about momma and a time when I missed her terribly. It is a very sad memory but very significant to my journey. I think I may go visit momma and David today. Grove Hill is so very peaceful.  

First I will share my memory.  Let’s go back to late fall of 2000. My life was spiraling out of control and I was about to crash and burn. But God led me to my momma; I know he did because there is no other explanation. Grove Hill is HUGE and sadly I didn’t have a clue to where she was buried. Let’s go back...

Things were falling apart in the fall of 2000: I had let the insurance lapse on my car, my car was totaled with no means to replace it, we were evicted from the house we were living in because we weren’t paying the rent, and I was asked to leave the district where I had worked. Addiction changes people and their personalities so total dysfunction and chaos ruled my home.

A day that has always stood out in my mind was a morning that I was driving with my husband down I-30. He had gotten a possession charge a few months earlier and was serving 30 days in the Dallas County Jail. He was released during the day for work even though he wasn’t working. I had just picked him up from Decker (the work release detention facility).

We were fighting horribly,addiction had ruined our relationship.  He was mad because I had done a lot of our drugs the night before and the fight had turned physical. As we passed the Lawnview exit I decided to get out of the car because I was scared he would really hurt me, I just had to get out. As I opened the door my husband slowed down and began to pull over screaming at me to stop, not sure of what I was going to do. When he slowed down enough where I could get out I jumped out of the car and started running.

Tears were streaming down my face and I was just felt so very lost and alone. I ran into Grove Hill Cemetery and decided to look for my mother and brother’s site, I didn’t have a clue where they were buried but I needed to find them desperately. I needed my momma. I ran up and down rows looking for the DeFace name. Amazingly I found them and that was amazing because Grove Hill is huge! After finding the markers with their names I just threw myself down on my mother’s site crying my heart out.

Crying for the mother I missed so badly and never really knew in life. Crying for the girl I had been with hopes and dreams, for the little girl who had been so neglected, and for the sad addicted woman I had become. I knew my life was out of control but I didn’t have the tools or the strength to make the changes I needed to turn it around.

I will never forget that moment of sheer desperation and total helplessness. I know God led me to my mother giving me one more chance to reach out but I couldn’t. Maybe my selfish pride prevented me from admitting what I had become so I just stood up wearily brushing the grass off my clothes. I looked back and saw my husband parked watching me, he was crying too.

As I walked to the car he said that was the saddest thing he have ever seen, me running through the cemetery looking for my dead mother.  Not knowing how to respond I just got into the car and leaned back, exhausted from the experience.  Sadly we returned home to do more drugs.

Revisiting Skyline

Next Tuesday I am going to continue my journey revisiting places from my past. I am so very excited !!! At  11 I am going to meet Sandy Wilson, president of the Skyline Alumni Association,  and we are going to go have lunch at Pizza Getti then go to SKYLINE!!  The Skyline newspaper is going to interview me and take photos. I don’t think I have walked the halls of Skyline since May of 1979. So many memories are flooding my mind. Most of the places I have revisited recently are places where I lived in defeat and bondage:  NTTC, Van Pelt, My Rockwall Probation Officers office, etc.

But Skyline was my saving grace at the time since I didn’t recognize Jesus, I think he gave me Skyline. At Skyline I felt popular, accepted, and loved. I know it seems silly but cheerleading was so important to me, it just made me feel that I was maybe okay. At home there was so much neglect and I felt as if I didn’t matter to anyone. My  self -worth was declining as my mother’s alcoholism deteriorated so because I was head cheerleader it made me think that maybe there was some worth. As I said I know it seems silly but that kept me on the right track for a long time, the recognition and acceptance I received at Skyline. I am thankful God blessed me with that.

 So I am super excited to return this place which was an integral part of my history. I am literally doing cheers right now and thinking back…….. .  I can picture myself running down the aisle of the auditorium doing aerials as the band played the fight song  “ Hit the team across the field ……………” then getting up on stage for the pep rally which we always ended with” V-I-C-T-O-R-Y  , victory , victory is our cry”.   That victory cheer has so much more meaning than I ever thought it would because I am living in the VICTORY that Jesus Christ has provided which is available to everyone. I want to share that hope and victory with everyone I can.  I will take you on this journey with me, stayed tuned. I appreciate all you so much:)

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.

More video from my presentation

I wanted to get these online today - these are two powerful clips from Wilshire Baptist Church earlier this month. Thanks everyone for the support.

and here is my teaching certification reinstatement!

My friend Beth *

Last night I met a friend for dinner. Our relationship is hard to explain: she was not a friend from childhood, high school, or college. I met Beth *(names have been changed to protect the innocent, well not really innocent since I met her in prison but you know what I mean:) ) in prison and what sets her apart is she is the only girl from prison that I developed a friendship with. When I arrived at prison I was very guarded about who I was going to let into my life. Frankly I had been burned big time by some people I met in rehab. I met one girl at Nexus and felt very sorry for her situation. I gave her a place to live at my father’s home in Rockwall and helped her financially. She ended up stealing from me and my father. The same thing happened with someone I helped from NTTC. So my plans were not to make any friends at all in prison and no matter how bad I felt for someone and their situation I was not going to bring anyone home to live with me: ) I was just going to do my time. I basically stuck to my plan except for this one exception.

Let me take you back to November 2002 when we met at the Woodman Unit in Gatesville. I pulled chain from Rockwall County on November 14th early in the morning. Rockwall is such a small county and at the time I was the only one leaving for prison. A deputy sheriff drove me to Gatesville by myself. It was such a scary experience; I had been in Rockwall County Jail since July and was so comfortable there. I was the only female trusty so I had a cell to myself, I got to smoke, and I got extra food. Those are some wonderful perks when you are locked up. I spent my days preparing mop buckets for the women to clean their pods and doing the laundry for the female inmates. The guards really liked me and I even tutored some of the ones who were taking some college courses. It had been quite awhile since my sentence of two years TDC was handed down so I thought, well prayed that I might get to do my time in Rockwall. Of course I had nothing to base this reasoning on, just wishful thinking I guess. But about three in the morning on November 14, the guard tapped on my cell and said “Susan,you need to pack your things,you are pulling chain.” Shocked and dismayed I jumped up and packed. It took about two seconds because all I had was my bible, the devotional “Streams in the Desert”, and my white Sketcher tennis shoes.

Not long after my wakeup call they came to get me and I started the process of being released. As I sat in the room where they do the paper work the guards I had come to know so well stopped in to tell me good bye. They could tell I was very scared and each of them looked me in the eye, grabbed my hand reassuringly, and told me it was going to be okay. Looking back into their eyes with tears streaming down my face I nodded in agreement trying with all my heart to believe their words. It is hard to describe the fear I felt and it made it worse because I was leaving alone. When you leave from a larger county there are usually a lot of inmates pulling together so at least you have someone to talk to, share your fears with, a group that you are all in it together. But I was alone , to be honest it was kind of fitting because I had felt alone since Kathey’s death.

As I stood up and the Sheriff’s deputy handcuffed me and shackled my feet I smiled unconvincingly at the guards as they said their final goodbyes, trying to reassure me to the end. I was then loaded into the backseat of the car and we headed south on 205 then exited onto I-30. We then drove to Gatesville where he dropped me off and I began the process of entering prison by myself. The day was a blur because so much went on. The main thing I remember is they threw away all my stuff except my Bible. The tennis shoes and the devotional went into the trash. The guard then cut out my book mark that was in my Bible, I didn’t really understand why because I didn’t see what could be done with that silk book mark but it was considered contraband and forbidden. I would soon learn how many seemingly innocent items were considered dangerous and prohibited in prison but I accepted the rules even though I didn’t understand them. I had finally come to a place where I accepted the fact that my thinking and ways somehow landed me in prison so I was going to obey all rules with no compromises.

I then was taken to my dorm where I would spend the next few weeks being tested mentally, physically, and emotionally. It was in this dorm that I met Beth*. As I said the only thing we got to keep was our Bible and we were issued 4 bars of blue lye soap to clean ourselves with. There wasn’t shampoo, toothpaste, or anything just 4 bars of blue lye soap. Feeling overwhelmed I went to my bunk and made my bed. The mattress was made out of sand so it was really hard to put a sheet on it. After that I just looked around at the inmates who were sitting at the tables playing board games or just talking. As I looked from table to table I just picked the one where the girls looked nice and a little older.  Beth* was at that table.

 

She was very nice but she was also very guarded. From listening to her I could tell she was educated and smart but she kept her distance and had built up some walls to protect herself.  Later I would learn why. Beth’s * sentence was for a very long time.  She had been a big time meth dealer and when she got busted weapons were found.  (You would have never thought this by looking at her. She was very pretty, with a funny sense of humor, and just an air of innocence. Many of the women in prison had a “hard” look probably due to the hard lives they had led but this was not the case with Beth.)  While out on bond for her original charge she got busted again.  After the second charge she went home to her family and got her life together remaining clean but her past caught up with her,as it always does.  After two years staying clean and working her court date finally came and she was sentenced to 15 years aggravated in TDC, the aggravated part of the sentence was due to the weapons. She was going to be locked up for awhile so she needed to have that mindset to protect herself.  For some reason she let down her guard with me and we became friends talking daily (there wasn’t anything else to do) as we waited for all of our testing to take place.  She was very sweet to me and shared some shampoo and some of her commissary because I didn’t have any money on my books yet.  This was very nice because she had made a promise to herself that she WOULD NOT share commissary because she had already dealt with so many issues with commissary  being in Dallas County and I understood that completely. You had to be extremely careful in prison or you would be taken advantage of and Beth was not going to let that happen.  So it was then that we became friends under the harshest of circumstances but I was so thrilled to find someone that I could relate to and enjoy talking with.

We spent Thanksgiving in Woodman and had a nice Thanksgiving meal then Beth pulled chain and I wasn’t sure where she went. The rumor was we would leave Woodman and go to Dawson State Jail in Dallas waiting for our respective units to have room.  But you just didn’t know what to believe and I was sad when she left because she had really been my only friend.

Not long after Beth left I was called in the middle of the night to pack my stuff because we were pulling chain.  This was a lot different than my ride from Rockwall by myself.  There were probably 50 of us who left that night and we were handcuffed and shackled together as we loaded the old TDC bus and headed for Dallas.  The rumor turned out to be true and we were taken to Dawson State Jail.  After being processed in we were sent to our dorms.  It was a pleasant surprise when I got to my dorm and saw that Beth was in there also.  Just like at Woodman we ate our meals together, went to church services, and just talked.  The library would come to the dorm once a week and we would check out books and share them with each other. One morning Beth came running over to my bunk excitedly handing me a book telling me that I just had to read it.  It was called “The Swan House” and it moved me deeply.  (I never forgot that book!! When I got out of prison I had my daughter check it out of the library and last year I bought it off of Amazon).  It is just one of those books that I can read over and over. “The Swan House” always reminded me of Beth and our friendship.

We spent Christmas in Dawson and had the worst meal you could possibly imagine.  Our Christmas dinner was bologna and dressing. It was just so depressing to be away from your family during that time and bologna and dressing made it worse.  I can still picture it on the tray.  But having a few friends eased the loneliness.  Not long after Christmas the call came in the middle of the night for a group to pack up because they were pulling chain.  Beth was in that group.  I realized then I might not ever see her again because there were countless number of units in Gatesville and the odds of us being sent to the same one was small. Crying we said our goodbyes promising to write each other and then she was gone.

A few days after Beth left I got a letter from her, it was very disturbing and she was having a hard time adjusting. She had been placed on the hoe squad at Lane Murray and she said it was just torture. They had to run three miles to where they would work and if you couldn’t keep up you would get a case and be in trouble.  It wasn’t like we had spent the last two months working out so it was extremely difficult . After the run you would have to hoe with the squad.  She said she didn’t know if she could endure this. My heart broke for her but there was nothing I could do except write back and try to encourage her. That was the last correspondence I had with Beth as I left for my unit not long after and began my sentence.  I guess we just got caught up in our own lives on our different units but I never forgot her.

When I got out of prison and started getting my life back on track I would think of Beth every now and then.  After I re-read “The Swan House” it made me want to reach out to her and see how she was.  I knew her mother and aunt supported her through prison and I just wanted to touch base to see if I could maybe do something to help her out. She had such a long sentence I couldn’t even comprehend how that would affect you.  You can use an online Offender Search on the TDCJ website to search for inmates so I put in Beth’s name and found she had been moved to the Mountain View Unit which is where the death row inmates are held and wrote her a letter asking her if she remembered me and if there was anything she needed. Of course I reminded her of the book and asked her if she remembered it.

A week or so later I received a letter from Beth telling me she did remember me but not the book , I guess the book made more of an impact on me. She told me how she taken some college courses  but stopped because she got involved in a Braille program where they transcribed books for the blind. This program was supposed to give training so the girls could find employment when they were released . Beth was very hopeful about her first parole hearing and asked me to write a letter in support of her and send to the parole board so I did that.  Beth said if I wanted I could send her some paper, pens, and stationary that I could order on line and send to her from an approved store.  So I ordered the items she requested and had them sent to her then we lost touch again.   Beth had been locked up about 7 years when we reconnected.  I knew she was up for parole and the only way I would know if she made parole was to look her up on the online offender search.  And sure enough one day when I put her name in the search engine it came back no one by that name.  I then knew Beth had made parole and was so happy for her praying she could make it because it can be so very hard.

Well not too long ago Beth and I reconnected and decided to meet for dinner.  She has been out two years, clean off of drugs, and has a job transcribing Braille.  She loves her job and her life. She is a strong girl who makes no compromises which I love.  She made her first parole but she had a long sentence so she will be on parole for awhile although there is a chance she could be released early for good behavior.  It was great to see her and catch up.  We made plans to be intentional so we could really get to know each other outside of the system that brought us together and I certainly hope we can do that.