And Not Just Any Prison….
…..the maximum security prison at Walpole. I managed to escape Walpole every night after my shift ended. Fresh out of the Army, I had gone out to Boston to visit my old friend Ron from my days as a community organizer of sorts in Newark, New Jersey (you can read about this in my post “Barack and Me”).
In Boston, I found work as a prison medic. They wanted to hire RNs, but couldn’t find any dumb enough to take the job. So they hired me, an ex-army medic. And there was a lot of work, as beating on each other seemed the most popular activity among the inmates, and they were not quitters. During my tenure, there were hostage-takings, lock-downs, a mass suicide attempt, and a murder a month, and that didn’t include the murder of the Boston Strangler, stabbed to death in our prison hospital shortly before I signed on.
The job was so interesting that I couldn’t stand the excitement anymore and left after a few months.
