PRISON PANDEMIC UPDATE # 10

Saturday, May 2, 2020, 9:58 a.m. Tomoka C. I., Daytona Beach, FL

On this date in 1985, my father, Eugene Norman, passed away after a long illness. I was at Zephyrhills C. I., and wrote three essays, memoirs documenting that difficult time for my family: ''As My Father Lay Dying,'' ''I Wore Chains to My Father's Funeral,'' and ''In the Shadow of the Valley.'' All week I've been thinking of that time, and my father's early death at age 56. I am 70, and can't help but wonder when my time will come.

I notice that around the dorm more men are reading Bibles. Sobering times. I have a nice Bible that I keep on the end of my bunk. In 1986, still at Zephyrhills C. I., my family lived only twelve miles from the prison. In those more enlightened times, my mother, Aunt Alice Walker, and niece Tammy Norman came every Sunday to attend chapel services with me.

Inevitably, every guest preacher would say, ''Turn in your Bible to....(a certain verse or passage)." I would reach for one of the Gideon Bibles in the pew book rack in front of us, find the passage, and the four of us would squint, trying to follow the tiny words. I bemoaned the difficulty of all of us not being able to share the verses, and the absence of large-print Bibles. Alice offered to buy one for me, I ordered a nice leather-bound volume, and soon the four of us could follow the readings together with the large print.

Little did I realize that not many more years would pass before my eyesight weakened, and I needed the large-print to be able to read the Bible myself. In the ''Life in Prison--A Photo Exhibit'' volume, there is a photo of me reading from that same Bible at visit. I read it still. It has been a valued companion for over 34 years. Most of the Bibles being read in here today are those Gideons and other versions from the chapel with small print that I can't read, but they will suffice. The message is the same, offering comfort and reassurance through troubling times.

On Friday afternoon, new Centurion (private medical service contractor) Dr. Westfall came into dorm K-1 to interview every prisoner. "How are you feeling? Any health complaints? Any questions?'' He filled out forms, circling listed complaints. Mine said, ''I feel fine.'' I haven't exhibited any symptoms. He said each positive-tested inmate will be checked by nurses daily, and will see the doctor weekly. He also said we must be tested negative twice to be released from quarantine. I'd never seen this doctor in medical, and asked him who he was. He's newly-hired by Centurion three weeks ago.

This morning we were awakened at 4:45 a.m., calling ''chow,'' special diet breakfasts for those receiving them. The ''regulars'' had to wait until 6:45 a.m., to receive the congealed, cold grits, along with coffee cake and an apple.

11:57 am. They're passing out bag lunches, two peanut butter sandwiches, a baggie of chopped raw cabbage, and another green orange. Gotta go. More later.

Charlie

PRISON PANDEMIC UPDATE # 9

Friday, May 1, 2020, 11:57 a.m., Tomoka C. I., Daytona Beach, FL

I feel fine.

They gave COVID-19 tests in my dorm for about ten men Wednesday. I tested positive, along with 40 grumpy, mostly old men from other dorms, and got moved into a previously empty dorm, K--1, classified as medically quarantined. I am asymptomatic, so far, as are most of these other men, it appears. One man said he was HIV positive, Hepatitis C positive, and now coronavirus positive. That must qualify as immuno-compromised. Most of these men are elderly, but six or so are younger, twenties to forties.

As they administer more tests, more asymptomatic prisoners will be positive for the virus. A few days ago, there were 89 inmates positive. Add 41 more in my group and it goes over 100. They offered voluntary tests to 20 work camp inmates, and 16 refused. The four who consented tested positive. Two got into a fight and went to confinement. Two others joined us in K-1. Before it is over, I imagine they'll test every prisoner. A radio person stated that overall, 96% of prisoners tested nationwide were asymptomatic, had no idea they were virus-infected. Mass testing will be required to get a handle on this pandemic.

Two nurses came in this morning to take ''vitals'' from everyone. My blood pressure was 104/60, temperature normal.

In answer to some questions from my scientist friend Weizhong, they have replaced the prison-made face masks with simple ones from a retailer. They began passing out new face masks each morning, starting today. I sleep well, can smell and taste my food, and eat it all. This dorm has 71 bunks--23 single bunks arranged in two rows in the middle, and 48 double bunks along three walls. About three feet of space separates adjacent bunks. My dorm has 28 empty bunks, which I expect will be filled soon.

The food has improved, with fruit, apple or orange, included twice a day. Two bag lunches, peanut butter or turkey bologna, and one hot meal, with vegetables. No salt or other condiments available, except for an occasional mustard pack. We were allowed to fill out an abbreviated ''emergency canteen order'' this morning.

1:19 p.m. They served lunch: smoked sausage, bread, rice, dry pinto beans, canned greens, an apple and cookie. I got full.

Nothing else has happened.

I ask that prayers be said for my mother, Lucille Norman, who was admitted to Tampa General Hospital this week. She is back home for the time being.

There will come a time when we get past this pandemic. Be strong, follow the guidelines, and take care of yourself and your loved ones. Best regards to all.

Charlie

PRISON PANDEMIC UPDATE # 8

Thursday, April 30, 2020, 11:27 a.m. Tomoka C. I., Daytona Beach, FL

Not good news. Around 9:30 a.m., this morning, the guard came in and told five of us to pack up, we were moving next door, to dorm K-1, which had previously been emptied. All five of us had been COVID-19 tested yesterday. The nurse told us then that we would know the results in two days, but the sergeant said those of us who were moving all tested POSITIVE. The other seven men tested negative, apparently.

When the five of us moved into dorm K-1, we found around forty inmates from other dorms moving in with us. All had been tested yesterday. I know about half of them, old timers who have been around as long as I have, and all had apparently tested positive. Comparing notes, none of us have exhibited any symptoms whatsoever. What that means, I don't know. I'll keep you informed as I learn more.

Before I moved next door, I was able to call my wife, Libby, and Aunt Alice. I'm not one to hold back information, so I told Libby about the positive test. We have been together over twenty years, through thick or thin, and our mutual faith has sustained us. This is a new challenge, a virus that threatens the world, and no one really knows how to respond.

Our hopes and dreams revolve around my eventual vindication and release from prison, so we can live our remaining years together, in freedom. I know this is going to be a tough time for Libby and my family, and I pray that other friends and extended family will offer their emotional and spiritual support over the coming days and weeks.

As a believer, I can't abandon the belief that God has a plan for my life, and He is not finished with me yet. Perhaps I was meant to go through this as a witness, to report to the world from inside prison. I pray that all of us fighting this virus will emerge from this dark tunnel alive and well.

A sergeant is about to make a speech, then they are going to serve lunch. I will file another update when I know something new. All the best.

Charlie