In July 2007, I left E! for an exciting new challenge – supervising producer for the two hour special – Women on Death Row III and the 12 part series of Women Behind Bars both for WEtv. My job responsibilities would include hiring the staff, creating and overseeing the schedule, supervising scripts, coordinating edits, ensuring notes were implemented and keeping the network happy as well as the rest of the staff. I looked at my job as an air traffic controller – getting the planes in the air, making sure they landed and addressing any crisis that occurred along the way – big or small.Normally I wouldn't be going out in the field for this position, but when an interview opened up and the producer couldn't be at two prisons at once, I volunteered. I had never visited a prison before or conducted an interview with a inmate. I had covered numerous stories involving crime and murder, but walking the halls and courtyards of a prison would be a first. Many people asked me if I was afraid. I didn't feel fear. I was more fascinated by an aspect of society we see very little of. I cannot imagine being confined to a five by six foot cell or having to ask permission for everything. My job was not to judge the inmates, but to get their story and try to understand their side.
The interviews would take me to Oklahoma where I would interview a husband and wife team who were allegedly hired to kill a former employee who was black mailing his boss. We visited the medium security men's prison and signed in at the office. I had followed the strict list that prevented us from wearing denim or open toed shoes. We had to keep all money and cell phones in the car. The guards went through all of our equipment and then a female guard came out to frisk me. Wow, is all I can say. Every inch of my body was touched and padded down. No contraband found on me!
We did the interview in the reception room. There were some tables and chairs enclosed by steel doors and glass. The main command center was behind the room so guards monitored our every move. After the interview we were granted permission to walk around the prison and see the inmate's cell. We went through bolted door after bolted door and then onto the quad where men of every size lined the benches. I could feel the pent up frustration and aggression as I passed the group. We walked to see his cell which was barren aside for a few books and personal belongings. The stainless steel toilet next to the bed was the ever present reminder that in prison there is no privacy. We then walked through the rest of the yard and to the cafeteria. It was crowded and extremely loud. It felt like at any moment violence could erupt so we turned around after just a minute. On the way out, men whistled at me. I said to the guard I guess that's a compliment, but he said, "Oh, they weren't whistling at you, they were whistling at you the blond audio guy." Damn, if you can't get a whistle at men's prison where can a girl get some attention?
The next day we visited a maximum security women's prison deep in the Oklahoma woods. We walked to the gate where razor wire stretched as far as I could see.
The gate buzzed and opened. The grounds were kept flawlessly clean. I even noticed a butterfly, but the vibe was ominous. We went through the security checks again and finally gained entrance.After the interview we toured the grounds and visited her cell. It was a very different feeling from the men's prison. I asked the guard who was escorting us if there was a lot of violence and he explained that scuffles happened, but it was rare. He said that the women form family groups where they all take on roles of the mom, aunt, child, grandmother and then look out for each other.
Her cell were sparse with the exception of a television she had saved up enough money to purchase from her daily job as an office assistant. The TV set was see through so there was no place to hide any potential weapons. I asked the inmate what were some of the more common rules that were broken. She told me how some inmates made prison wine by saving up their fruit cups, placing the fruit in a bucket, filling the container with water and then putting bread on top and covering it for a couple weeks and voila prison hooch. The PIO said whenever a laundry bucket goes missing they knew there were some intoxicated ladies. The punishment was time in solitary confinement or as she called it, the hole.
Her stories were fascinating though also tragic. As we drove away with the miles of fences and razor wire becoming smaller, I said a prayer of gratitude and enjoyed an authentic beer that evening made by Amstel.
