Mystery Illness: One Prisoner Dead

This happened only miles away from our very own J.J.

This is sad.  This is scary.  This is prison life.

Please keep this family in your thoughts and prayers.  

Please keep inmates in your thoughts and prayers.  

"Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them."  Hebrew 13:3

A mysterious illness has led officials to restrict the movements of more than 150 inmates at the Lowell Correctional Institution in northern Marion County while the state Department of Corrections and state Department of Health investigate.

Misty Cash, a spokeswoman for the DOC, said some inmates at the women's prison are experiencing “flu-like symptoms.”

Because the problem has not been diagnosed, Cash said 156 inmates have been restricted in R Dorm. That does not mean all 156 have contracted the unknown illness.

An inmate from R Dorm, Yvonne Eugena McBride, 26, died Wednesday from what family members were told was pneumonia.

Yvonne Eugena McBride, 26

Cash confirmed McBride's death, but because of federal privacy laws could not disclose if the woman's death was connected to the mystery illness.

She would only say that McBride died Wednesday at Ocala Regional Medical Center.

Eugene McBride said he received a call on that day from a prison chaplain informing him of his daughter's death. McBride said he asked about the cause of death and was told it was pneumonia. He said he hasn't heard anything from Lowell officials.

Cash said the sickness was detected on Tuesday after someone reported being sick.

Craig Ackerman, a spokesman for Florida Department of Health in Marion County, said his office was notified about the condition at Lowell on Wednesday and is assisting the DOC with the investigation.

Ackerman described it as an “influenza-like illness.” He said officials await laboratory results.

McBride's sister, Raegime, said she visited her sister in June and someone told her that her sister was too weak to get up. She said she insisted on seeing her sister and Yvonne McBride later showed up, telling her that she was weak and had been denied a request for medical help.

Yvonne McBride was arrested in January and charged as a principal to robbery with a deadly weapon, Marion County court records show. She was found guilty in June and sentenced to 55 months in prison, followed by two years of probation.

She arrived at Lowell on or about June 20.

A few comments attached to this story:

Joe Ray · Valley Forge Christian CollegeMs.McBride's case is commonplace at Lowell Correctional Institution, Annex, and Reception Center. Many women acquire breathing problems, asthma, etc because of the lack of cleanliness and mold. The prison cleans it up for official visitors and hides the female prisoners so they won't complain about the situations. The prison staff, including the warden, blame any mistakes made by them on the female inmates. Cheryl Welch was admitted there last June with cancer. She received her first treatment this past March. While they're at it, investigate the deaths of Sheila York and Beatrice Jones, who both died while being detained at Lowell. There are many more who die without public knowledge. Lowell has a mold issue and the warden, Gus, refuses to deal with it. Since the prisons saved money by neglecting feminine products and reducing toilet paper, they should have added cleaning products to the list. On April 11, some of the youth offenders were beaten by guard(s), either Harvey or Supis(?). Robin Thomas, a one armed woman, had her face slammed into a concrete floor on March 15, supposedly by a guard named Driggers, while handcuffed. All over an empty catsup container. Thomas was placed in isolation for 3 weeks after having her face slammed. Christy Ochoa lost a finger while working in the kitchen. The guards waited all day before sending her to the hospital. She was unable to get her finger seed on because it rotted. Yet, a guard had a finger sliced and was able to get it sewed on. When women put in medical emergencies or sick calls, sometimes it takes 3-6 days before they are seen. When a medical emergency is declared, like on July 11, some guards threaten to place the women in isolation. Then they die due to medical neglect. The state makes false neglect charges against citizens, yet their employees abuse and/or cause people to die weekly. I have previously emailed Dennis Baxley and Charlie Stone about this yet received no response. Big surprise there.

Jade Floyd · Alachua, Florida

There is something seriously wrong with this! I truly believe, without a single doubt, that Lowell staff blatantly ignored Yvonne's illness and delayed initiating transportation to the hospital until it was far too late. This so-called "mystery illness" was a direct result of the deplorable conditions that Marion County Jail and Lowell inmates are forced to live in, as well as frighteningly insufficient medical care, and an overall lack of empathy and basic human decency from the jail/prison staff. Also, let me address the "She shouldn't have broken the law and been locked up in the first place"-type comments that I know people will make: Everybody makes mistakes. Let ye who is without sin cast the first stone. She was sentenced to prison for 55 months by a judge who deemed that appropriate for her crime. Instead, she received the death penalty. This young woman could have been and SHOULD have been saved from her premature demise. Rest in peace, my kind friend. Gone, but NEVER forgotten.

 

Shatara Vereen · · College of Central Florida

I am so hurt by this, its always sad to lose someone unexpectedly but young flowers who never get the chance to fully bloom hurt the worst.... Prayers go out to her family.....

 

Kent Kelly · Top Commenter · Garfield Senior High, Woodbridge, VA

Lowell is full of cockroaches, mice, and rats.

Raymond Coley · · Tri County High School

Lawsuit Time? Poor Health Care!

 

Read this story at Ocala.com!

 

 

Faith & Peace & Chicken Grease

Faith.

A believe in the things unseen.  I believe hope is nearly the same thing.

For me, if I put hope into something it's because I truly care about it.  And if it doesn't happen, then a little piece of me dies.  Hope for me seems within my grasp.  As if it's nearly close enough to reach out and touch.

Faith, on the other hand, is more like a shot in the dark.  There's too many possibilities of what the result may be.  Like that ad that states..."results may vary".  That's faith for me.  Knowing that there are so many variables causes me to not place hope, but rather faith.  My faith is much less than my hope.

This may be wrong.  Perhaps it's backwards.  But it's what I do.

Faith is something that Bible speaks of.  The unseen.  A trust that God is real and one day he will return for his believers.  I allowed myself to put faith into my motion in the court.  I put hope in my child growing to become a great adult.  My child will break my heart if I ever see her fall.  My denied motion did not break me.  Instead, what I did was immediately plan for a longer stay.  That doesn't mean accepting this world behind this fence.  Rather accepting that I have to live, sleep and dwell here for another five or so years.

I will continue to work out.  That's a must.  When I walk out of here I will gladly leave this life behind.  However, the only thing I will take is ME.  My body and it's health is a must for me.  I have plans, and I need to be one in-shape  40-year-old dude.  I'm sure that there will be many more lessons for me in hope and faith.  Over these past years I have learned to stand tall.

There are too many people out there who fall down.  I'm talking about letting your boss walk all over you and take advantage of your time.  Calling you in on a weekend when you are supposed to have it off.  Instead of telling him/her no, you show up but wear a chip on your shoulder.  Or that family member who tells you that you are overweight and your house is a mess.  You act like you don't hear them, but when your home you cry your eyes out.  Then you have the men that take their upset home and abuse their wife and kids.  The man who is not man enough to stand up to his boss, but takes it out on his wife when he gets home.  She and the kids become the verbal punching bag.  In some cases it's even physical.

Prison has changed that for me.  Push me and I'll shove you back.  What you gonna do?  Call the cops?  Press charges?  Look where I live.  Some of you out there need to do the same.  Learn to tell the person you have the problem with about how they make you feel.  Don't take that shit home with you.  Your home is suppose to be your palace.  Your sanctuary.  Your zen place of peace.

That's how I have to do the next five or so years.  Find that little happy place and hold onto it.  Never let it go.  Thank you all for helping me do my time through your participation in the Jailbird project.    

Freedom Denied?

There was a call-out for me to receive legal mail last Friday.  At the set time, I went and picked up my documents.  The Orange County judge has ruled to deny my motion and uphold the judges original sentence.  Leaving me to finish my sentence of 12 years.

I took a deep breath as I read "denied".  After all, it's my future we are discussing here.  I exhaled, then began to walk again.  That's exactly how I plan to handle this.  One step at a a time.  Phase two begins the appeals process.  During which time I continue to count down the days of my original sentence.  Either way, I'm coming home.  Can't be stopped.  I wasn't given life here, so my day will come.

Not long ago I was a very different person.  I looked for people to blame.  Got angry when things didn't go my way.  Prison has changed that for me.  Some people become ruined here.  I somehow managed to recover some part of me that was lost.  I live a little better, love a lot better and take nothing for granted. 

This blog has become a way for me to get things off my chest.  As form of a confessional, if you will.  At times funny, generally very heartfelt, but even a tag aggravating to some.  My life is at times all of these for some people.  I don't figure everyone will like me.  That's life.

However, instead of go sit in a dark corner and hide, I decided to put my life well into the open and allow people to watch me.  That way you can form an educated decision about who I am.  Rather than come to conclusions based on where I am.

If we truly believe nobody can change then this world is headed toward disaster.  I would ask that you watch me and meet who I am today.  There will be those, of course, who won't.  They will use labels.  They will be influenced by what others think.  They will follow others rather than make their own decision.  Believe it or not, I use to do just that.  Everyone at the table is talking about so-and-so, why not just join is and do the same?  Today I realized that once you walk away from that conversation, it more than likely will become about you.  Some people are just shitty like that.  Jerry Springer has made millions on the fact that our society is full of trash. 

At some point I hope we all slow down and take the time to look over our own lives.  Take a break from looking at everyone else and check on your own lest you become the next contestant on the Jerry show.

I will continue to move forward in my life.  My family loves me and I can't wait to be free again.  Even when I know I will be the topic wherever there is a group of people looking to point fingers.  Well, if this blog helps me do my time, then perhaps watching me can help you do yours.  Maybe if you'll open your heart, my life could inspire you.

Today I am free.  Free from drugs.  Free from anger.  Free from the life I used to live.  This freedom nobody can take from me. 

Love Seat

I have an appointment today to send my excessive personal property home.  Any prison I have been to offers an option for you to send your property home with a visitor.  You let your visitor take the property when they come to see you and avoid paying the price to mail.

This camp does not offer that option.  Instead, you must use stamps and pay to send your package through mail.  I am scheduled to take this very option and send home a very large stack of pictures and an even larger stack of mail.

When someone takes the time to sit and write their thoughts to me, I'm touched.  I'm also quite anal and won't through out these letters.  I have all my birthday cards since I was a kid.  One day perhaps I could shred all these letters and cards and stuff a couch with the shreddings.  Then I could call it my love seat.

Well....a lot of love went into all those letters.  Hence the love seat.

How much love is in a store-bought seat anyway?  I'm just sayin'.....

They coined the phrase "spring cleaning" because of all the junk we acquire over time.  The stuff the kids outgrow.  Items that break and we have every intention of fixing, yet two years later they are still broke, hanging in the garage.  Baggage.  Junk.  So spring rolls around and we clean out our junk.  Then drag it into the yard, stab a sign into the curb and declare our junk pile a yard sale.  Someone comes along and rushes to claim these new treasures.

When you are a prisoner you have limited space for personal items.  One morning they wake you up, tell you to pack your personal items and prepare to transfer.  You begin to bag all your stuff and realize you have a pile of stuff.  Your expected to carry all those bags, while handcuffed onto a bus.  And repeat this process throughout the day.  Hard to carry all that stuff in handcuffs.

So, I'm trying to eliminate my property and send some home.  As a prisoner you never know when they'll come along and tell you to pack your stuff.

Another side effect is shake downs.  When they come in to search they go through all your personal items.  The more shit you have, the longer they stay at your house.  Personally, I'm a fan of them being in and out.  Then you run into the fact that they won't respect all your personal property the way that you do either.  Your things will end up in a pile on the floor.

I'm able to pay for shipping with stamps.  A dollar amount is placed on the package your mailing.  You then add the required number of stamps for postage.  Today I used 26 first-class stamps on my package.  Two years worth of mail and photos was placed into a box and mailed home.  By the time I am free, I will have a nice love seat.

I walk through this life here and remind myself that I'm just passing through.  The time I miss behind these bars will be made up for once I'm out.  I lived pretty hard before prison, but I'll never take even one moment for granted.

A country song asks a man what he did when he learned he was dying....he states he went sky diving, Rocky Mountain climbing, and rode a bull named Foo-Man-Choo.

Sky diving may cause my heart to explode.  I'll ride a bull though.  And I want to go up in a hot air balloon.  That will be my substitute for jumping out of an airplane.

We should all live life as if tomorrow may never come.  What have you done to make a memory?  Why don't you start by throwing a ball with your boy.  Have a father/daughter date.  Kiss your spouse and use some tongue.  Step outside the parameters of your comfort zone and live my friends. 

The Things I Ponder.....

There are aspect of life behind bars that I just don't get.  Like the guy who wears his flip flops into the shower.  After his shower he then uses his towel to dry off his flip flops.  then hangs the towel back up to dry.  Then repeats the same process the next day.  He took a towel he wipes on his face and dried someone elses unborn babies off his shower shoes.  Yes.  This is a men's locker room we're talking about.

Or the guy who won't sit on a toilet seat, but perches his shower shoes on each side of the bowl, then sits on them.  Nearly everyone washes their ass around here.  So, the germs on the seat are minimal.  Well, until you place your jizz-stained, bacteria-infested shower shoes on the seat.  Now your putting whatever is on the shower floor on your ass.  Not to mention, the condition you have now left the seat in for the next man who comes to sit on that seat.

Disrespectful assholes....

It doesn't end there.  I see stuff all day that causes me to shake my head.  Take our reck yard for example.  The middle of summer and no houses anywhere near and so some of us like to take our shirt off while we work out.  Get a little Vitamin D and fresh air.  Here comes the recreational coach, a sergeant who has decided to be shirt patrol.  He chases anyone down who pulls their shirt over their head to write paperwork on.  Issuing a corrective-consultation paper.  Even going to the extreme of kicking you off the reck field for removing your shirt.   

He is so intent on doing this that he overlooks everything else.  Thing that are totally security risks.  The very things he should be monitoring to maintain safety, he overlooks to chase inmates down who have removed their shirt. 

I watched the gang activity on the reck field the other day.  Blatantly throwing gang signs around while the officer watches.  A ring of guys all surrounding the petitioner.  It's an initiation ceremony.  One guy in the center of the circle is on his knees with his head bowed.  Everyone in the surrounding ring hold his hand on the new members shoulders.  If you didn't know any better you could mistake it for a charismatic healing ceremony.  Except this is no prayer circle.  These are gang members.  Here to swear in a new member.  Organized crime and it's alive and well in the prison system.  It goes virtually unnoticed since the officer is busy chasing down a shirtless inmate doing push ups.  That's just one senario.  Here's yet another.....

We have Mp3 players that have to be plugged in to a kiosk to download our music purchases.  A couple of the officers post up around the machine and tell us inmates it's off limits.  It's a security risk for us to plug in and download our music.  Nobody's going to download their tunes to go jump the fence.  What, so they have something to listen to while they're on the run?  I think not!

Besides....if an officer can patrol the kiosk to tell you it's "off limits", then why can't he just be security and see the area as patrolled since he's leaning on the machine?  I just don't get if folks.  Some people have so much sense they have none.  There you have it.....

The things I ponder.

Until next time.....     

Independence Day

Taking a walk back down the trail of my life.  Last year at this same time I was working in the kitchen at Wakulla Correctional Institute.

My shift started at 3 a.m.  I had been working for nearly four and a half hours behind a dishwasher in a steam-room.  I turned around to a officer who directed me to place my wrists into her cuffs.  As I did so she told me I was going to jail.  I didn't figure she had anything kinky in mind, but I'm glad she cleared that up for me.

She walked me to confinement as I squished my way along in a pair of knee-high rubber boots.  Pretty bad when even a trip to confinement looks better than your job.  I was informed along the way that it was this very blog, The Judicious Jailbird, that I was being arrested for.  In fact, I was being placed under investigation while they had a look-see over the blog and Facebook.

I still remember my thoughts as they led me away.  Only days prior a trailer had backed up to the prison and unloaded hundreds of vine-ripe watermelons.  Every day I came into work we saw those watermelons.  They were for lunch on the 4th of July.  I hijacked one of those melons with a couple of my compadres.  We cut it and ate it behind the dishwasher before any guards could become the wiser.  It was then that I tasted the melons and knew I would enjoy their ripeness on the Fourth.

Those were my thoughts as I was cuffed and led to confinement.  Not at all about how miserable confinement is......No, I was wondering if they serve watermelon in the box and thinking probably not.

Last year I missed watermelon and also barbequed chicken because I was locked up....all because of this blog.  That's the closest I ever came to hating this blog.

The investigation was completed a couple weeks later.  They let me go since there were no rules being broken.  My loved ones run Jailbird, not me.  I just go to the box and sit in solitary over the thing. 

Well, I'm free this year so perhaps I'll get to have that slice of goodness this time.  This prison already locked me up and did their investigation.  I guess I can look forward to that each time I transfer.  I don't think there's any problem with it now.  Although.....an officer did pass me the other day and called me the "dumb ass with a webpage."  This made me smile.  Clearly he has given me a nickname.  He also raised the stats on this very blog since he became a statistic as well. 

I shall stop now so I'm not locked up again and miss my watermelon.  That would be a shame.  Where are the Ghost Busters when you need them! 

Dad always said fireworks were a waste of money.  I still bought theme each year up til prison.  And I'll drive a state away to buy the good ones.  If dad only knew.  Not only did I spend hundreds on the fireworks themselves.....but I drove all the way to Georgia to buy them! 

Then an hour into lighting them off, my house is surrounded by the swat team. I have all the lights shut off and have ran inside and hid behind a couch.  You can't buy memories like these.  You can't plan them out.  They just happen.

Dad has trophy deer heads on a wall to remind him of the hunt.  I have road trips to Georgia, a trunk filled with T.N.T. and the house surrounded by Orlando S.W.A.T.  You tell me what sounds like a wild time.  Hope you had a Happy 4th of July!

Money Hungry Clowns

Copyright by Tattoo'd Hooligan 2013