I left Huron Valley Correctional Facility on November 25, 2008. It seemed like yesterday, but that was a long time ago. I’ve witnessed some of the most cruel and traumatizing events when I was there. Outbreaks, neglect and abuse. I was there from December of 2004, until November 2008. I’ve been gone for almost 18 years and it’s getting worse, and the women aren’t only treated different, they are outnumbered, the women are 1,000 to 100,000 men, and the men are serious, especially the LIFERS. They have nothing more to do but write grievances and keep up mess. That’s just what they do, then they help their fellow inmates when they are being slighted or mistreated. My brother is a “jailhouse lawyer” that helps his friends now that he is out of prison. He is very smart and he gets action, too. The Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC) is a business that cuts its losses when it’s necessary. My brother sued them and won! It was only six thousand dollars, but he got there on his own.
I’ve always said that people don’t want their tax-money to go to inmates. They would gut the prison budget if they could and use the money for headstart programs and free lunch for students. Not to say that we don’t need headstart programs, or free lunch for kids, but prisoners are human. They lowered our daily meal calories for women to 1200, when I was there. Gave us one piece of bread and took away our coffee for breakfast. If you couldn’t “eat out your locker”, you didn’t eat well. That means if your family couldn’t afford to send you money so you could get commissary, you had to survive off-prison meals. Plus, commissary was always at least a week late. So, even if you could afford food, it was like you were broke, because your food never came on time. Even the most frugal and scarce people like me would be down to noodles and popcorn. I used to have to give my last to people who were hungry, because they didn’t like a meal. I worked in the kitchen when I was at WHV, and they had their nerves to throw food away. My friend from Chicago, got trouble while visiting her cousin in Michigan, would beg the food supervisor to keep the polish sausage, until the next day for us to have in the kitchen. Nope, they all went into a big black garbage bag and thrown in the dumpster. I threw trash so I know how heavy those bags were of food that was thrown away, either because it was nasty or they sent too much. The men made our food, and they sent our food. You could tell they would eat mostly anything and lots of it!
It’s the same with healthcare. Men get better healthcare, because most healthcare is performed by women. The men flirt and get better treatment. At least that’s what I’ve heard. When women arrive at healthcare it’s business as usual. Save money at all costs. Sure, there are some women that can get some creams or ointments, but mostly they tell you to get off commissary. Commissary that is late, and you’ve already put your order in for this cycle. You’re waiting for the next cycle and it’s going to be late, too. So, you’re waiting almost two months for an aspirin. They might give you a couple, but if you need more, you either pay for another sick-call or wait for commissary. There may be someone who bought some off commissary that would give you two or four, or who has a little ointment to give you, but pretty much you are out of luck. Healthcare costs and they are not willing to spend.
There was a woman named Angela Gibson, she lived with me in the Residential Treatment Center, (RTP). She used a colostomy bag every day. Something that happened when she was free, not in prison, that she had to use these bags. They didn’t want to buy her bags for everyday use, 365 days for as long as she was there. I think she was doing 15 years for arson. She had set her sister’s house on fire. She didn’t have her sister to rely on; she had tried to burn her house down. She had a son, but he was incarcerated, too. She had no one on the outside to advocate for her. Women in our unit were trying to help her write grievances, but it did nothing for her, really. The best they gave her was one bag a week and she had to clean it out every day. They didn’t give her no bleach or alcohol to clean it out with, just soap and water. Eventually, she got an infection in the place she hooked the bag to the tube in her stomach. It became very painful and she kept having to go to healthcare for the pain. We know what she needed was antibiotics to clear up the infection, and a new colostomy bag every day. At least some bleach to clean out the one she got every week. Bleach is not that expensive. Instead, her infection wasn't cleared up, and she kept making trips to the clinic.
She wasn’t a very large woman. But she was chunky. WHV has a hill that separates Calhoun from the other buildings on top of the hill. At the time, RTP was in Calhoun. To get her to healthcare, you had to push her up the hill. On this day, no one was volunteering to push her up the hill, and the officer called for me. “Take Gibson up to healthcare. At first, I looked at her like she was crazy, but gave in. They called for her and I got the unit’s wheelchair. I took that trek up the hill and dropped her off at the clinic. Later that evening, the officer who sent me called me to the desk, “Gibson died.” I looked at her shocked, because she didn’t seem on the verge of death. She was a little uncomfortable but not dying! I thought to myself, “They killed her, because they didn’t want to buy those bags,” because I have a friend that swears the State killed her sister. She had gotten hit by a car and was a vegetable. My friend, this young woman’s sister, worked around the clock to keep her alive. Her son would help her. But the State kept making up reasons to take her out of her home and she fought for her sister to stay with her. Sadly, she lost the battle. Whereas her sister lived for years with her, she only spent months in the States system. I can only imagine the State found her quality of life was so low that it wasn’t worth them spending all the money to keep her alive. They did the same calculation with Gibson, and she never had a chance. She was an inmate, all her trouble happened in a few months, and not years.
Karen Stribling was in prison for LIFE, because she killed her brother about some chicken wings. Well, that was the rumor. She was one of the casualties of smoking while in prison. They banned cigarettes because they didn’t want to pay the cost of people getting emphysema, COPD and cancer. Stribling had lung cancer. We couldn’t smoke in the buildings and had a little yard outside that they smoked in and when they went out on big yard. Where everybody could gather and smoke. You could also smoke on the walk to the “Chow Hall”. That’s when we all realized “Strib” as we called her had a serious lung issue. While we stood waiting for “Chow” to be called, Sissy, a woman from Battle Creek would ask to smoke with Strib on the walk. Strib always said “yeah” and Sissy would take her place beside her so she could pass her the cigarette. As soon as we stepped outside the door, Strib would stop and light her cigarette. Making whoever is behind her almost run into her and Sissy, because Sissy stopped with her to smoke. As soon as Strib took one puff of her cigarette she would start coughing and wouldn’t stop! Sometimes she couldn’t stop coughing to eat. It might be slow as we walked back to the unit, but it was bad. Sissy got the best of the deal, because she got to smoke the entire cigarette. She even had her nerve to ask if she was going to smoke on the way back to the unit. If she was still coughing, Strib would shake her head, “No.” Sometimes she'd give her the second cigarette she'd rolled for the walk back.
One day on our way to chow, she started coughing and brown stuff came out. It looked like thick cough syrup, brown and disgusting. Some people fell back to see if she was alright. The officer walking us that day told us to continue to the chow hall while she and another inmate stayed to see if she was okay. She never came to chow, and they walked her back to the unit and when we got back from chow, she was in the “small rec” room for an ambulance. We weren’t allowed in and the next time we saw Strib it was two weeks later. I wasn’t surprised, neither were most of us. People who smoked in prison, most of them couldn’t afford filtered cigarettes. They had brands like Kools and Newport’s, that had filters, but like cost close to ten dollars. People got those for a special occasion, or when they had got extra money or if somebody was paying them for goods or services. As a norm, however, people didn’t buy filtered cigarettes. What they bought were this brand called “Tops”. You rolled Tops like a joint, and Tops have no filter. They came with a book of rolling paper in the pouch. You get the full effect of the tobacco. That’s what kills you, and that’s what killed Strib, and that’s why they no longer allow smoking in the MDOC.
Not because smoking was killing people, but because of the high price of caring for sick inmates, like Stribling. When she got better, they called us into the day room to tell us that she was back, and the doctor came in and told us she had lung cancer. We were asked us to be accommodating, because she was in fact dying and wouldn’t be with us long. An inmate looked taken aback and said, “Should she be living here with us? She’s dying!” the doctor told us that it is what the MDOC was doing and we all had to deal with it the best way we can. He didn’t like it either, but he didn’t have anything to say. When the meeting was over, and Sissy was finished crying over Strib, we all rushed Ms. Wilson. We were frantic, we all loved Strib, and did not want to watch her die! Ms. Wilson, the sweet woman she was said, “I know and I’m going to work on it.” In her sweet gentle way. We disperse as Nancy walked up to say she’d take care of her while she’s in the unit. An inmate, one of Strib’s friends said out loud, “No inmate should be taking care of another inmate.” Strib rolled out on her walker and sat down to play spades. That’s how I’ll remember her. Sitting at the table play spades, because Ms. Wilson did as she promised and worked on it. She left our unit in about four days and went to hospice care. Ms. Wilson cited the mental health of the women in the unit and our having to deal with our friend dying in our presence and stuff like that. She’s a psychologist who ran the RTP unit and her thoughts weighed heavy on getting her out the unit. Nancy took care of her those four days, washed her up, combed her hair and sat with her to eat and help her. She died in hospice in about two weeks. When we heard, we just sat around and talked about, what if she would have died with us in our unit. That was fast! Rest easy Strib, I love you. We loved you…
Mercer is a highly contagious skin infection. It was brought into the prison by staff. Prisoners live in a controlled environment. Outbreaks like mercer in 2008, colds, flu and such are brought in by staff at WHV. They didn’t have a plan for it, either. Our unit was separated from the other units, but several of the women caught it. Mostly the White women who went out on yard. When they got diagnosed with it they put them in an observation, which is like our own little segregation room in RTP. The nurses would then give them their medicine through the food slot, meals, too. There was a woman named Penny, she was told not to touch her mercer sore. It had crusted over and was no longer leaking fluids. They let her out with the rest of us. Immediately, she began touching the top of her head. That’s where she had become exposed to the disease. She sat with us picking it every day, until it began to leak and she got mercer all down the front of her face, like a waterfall. So, they put her back into observation, again to heal. When they let her out for the second time, she started picking on her sore, again. My best friend couldn’t take it anymore. She went to the Officer’s Station and asked why’d they let her out, before the wound cleared up? They know she’s crazy and won’t stop picking with it!
The woman patted her head and told my friend to shut up, because she wasn’t dying, but she was. The officer told her that she was there to make sure we were safe, and not to make medical decisions. That was up to our medical staff, who were available 7am-4:30pm. They were off on weekends. We were in a unit for the insane, and it would be difficult to stop her from picking with her mercer scab. My friend ordered her to stay away from her and went to sit far away from Penny. Penny never died and with a little harassment from my friend, she let her sore heal. No one from the medical side ever did a thing.
The times at WHV were tough. It was a matter of luck and catching commissary at the right time. Living in RTP was a blessing. We could ask the nurse for painkillers, laxatives and stuff and if they were in a good mood they’ll give it to you with your next MEDS. If not, I waited for Nurse Kasibo to come. The head nurse and the sweetest nurse. She’ll give you what you need. That’s what prison is like. All these different people, personalities and attitudes. You become a different person, by just learning to deal with it all. The women you live with, and the officers Who are the worst. I read they would sit and talk about Crystal. They would say she’s faking and there is nothing wrong with her. It’s like high school where the teachers and principals are the troublemakers. I want to know what inmate helped her put that mold in her ear. Jennier Wallace died of sepsis in the custody of the MDOC.
A man just sued and was awarded 300-some million dollars on a colostomy bag case. So, their stance on those bags hasn’t changed in 16 years. They look at these cases through hedonistic eyes. Crystal is one woman. If they let her die, it’s one person dead. If there was more of her, she might be treated. I went to her OTIS profile yesterday and she’s scheduled to be released May 2027. That’s the year from now. They are willing to take the chance on her living until then. She’s level one, and that’s where she should be about a year from release. She has done 16 years. There is no reason she shouldn’t be set free. Taxpayers don’t like inmates and if Whitmer plans to run for something else political, she might be seen as soft on inmates, but she has released drug offenders. If you put them in prison for what ever time, you must care for them or let them go! This woman has mold growing out her ears. Have mercy...!
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