Friends For Life

This past Sunday I took a walk that I have become very familiar with; it's the walk between my prison cell and the visiting area that is in a separate building. When I am not on a fire, most of my Saturdays and Sundays are spent in that building. Sallie is of course, my most diligent visitor-she makes the 4 hour drive (8 hours round trip) whenever possible. Sometimes with the kids, sometimes with a couple of them, or by herself. Sometimes for both days, and sometimes she drives up and back for the one day. I think there is only a handful of weekends she wasn't able to come while I was here. 

When Sal hasn't be able to visit, friends from Colorado, Texas and Utah have made the trip that dead ends at a prison high in the canyons above Rifle, Colorado. Visiting rules here are not nearly as stringent as higher level facilities but suffice it to say that the only physical that can happen is a hug/kiss at the beginning and the end of the visit. What this really means is that I have gotten the same amount of physical action from my Father-in-law, Marlowe over the past eight months, as I have gotten from his daughter...my wife!

There are are ten or so tables inside of the visiting area and another ten picnic tables located in an outdoor portion of the facility. Visitors are allowed to bring outside food from any restaurant or store to share with their inmate-a pretty amazing perk of this facility. Visiting hours are 9:00-3:30 and after every visit, I am subject to the all to familiar strip search and squough.

I'm told by the guards that my visiting list has surpassed all previous records in terms of number of approved visitors. I don't share this to brag at all-it's simply a testament to how loving and supportive people are. It's also a reminder that so many of my fellow inmates have nothing left in terms of social support. Some of them never had it to begin with. Others have destroyed so many of their relationships on the way to prison that there is nobody left. 

When a visitor shows up, a facility-wide announcement is made for the corresponding inmate to report to visiting. I have become somewhat self-conscious of the walk from my cell to the visiting area-passing so many inmates who know exactly where I'm headed- 80% of whom never get visits.

It has taken me a while to feel completely comfortable in visits. I say this with the utmost amount of sensitivity; but for some reason, especially in the beginning, visits were really hard. Not because I didn't love and appreciate everyone who was making the time and effort to visit-but because of the completely vulnerable state you find yourself in. Society has placed a scarlet letter of sorts on you and you have to drop whatever pride you have left to face people from the "real world". I hated sensing the fear and apprehension that accompanied my visitors-the great majority of which have never stepped foot in a prison. I felt guilty that my current circumstance was interrupting the lives of my visitors. I was always worried about how ridiculous I looked in my green prison scrubs- all of it was hard for me to accept. But, slowly as I have gotten more and more humbled from my experience, I have realized how selfish all of my fears were. I think it's safe to say that for a lot of us, one of the hardest things for us to do is accept help from other people-to show weakness and/or humility-something we are conditioned to hide. 

This past Sunday, I was visited by one of my best friends and his wife, Stan and Michelle Merrill. Stan and I grew up together, especially in high school, as best friends and teammates. We played so much football and basketball together that I can't remember ever not playing with him. It was even in his car, as he drove me home that I kissed Sallie for the first time..and he was my best man when I married her.

After high school we remained very close as he and Michelle lived in St. George, Utah and Sal and I lived in Las Vegas, Nevada. Close enough to spend a lot of time together with our kids growing up knowing each other as well. 

Eventually Stan, Michelle and their kids moved back Logan, Utah and Sal and I moved to Wyoming and then Colorado. We had exchanged Christmas cards every year but other than that, for the past eight years, we have had little to no contact.

I can tell you this-none of us thought that our eventual reunion would be behind the walls of a prison. So, as I made the long walk from my cell to visiting, I felt some of those prideful fears creeping up. All of those glory days spent together and we were being reunited in a prison. I felt ashamed. I felt embarrassed. I felt sad. Here I was, feeling these feelings about someone who I loved so much-and I know loved me. 

I stopped in the atrium-only one door separating me from Stan and Michelle-to get patted down by the guard. How ironic, I thought. A guard is checking me for weapons before I could be reunited with friends. Would I see embarrassment in their eyes as the door opened? Would I see fear? 

The guard finished the search and motioned for me to open the door. I pushed the bar in and hesitantly opened the door-all of the sudden there were my dear friends standing feet from me. As soon as I saw Stan, my emotions got the best of me and we both embraced-like we had after winning one of our basketball games so many years ago. Michelle joined in on the group hug and for a good 20 seconds we all stood in the visiting room of a prison with tears streaming down our faces-happy to see each other again.

Spending the day with Stan and Michelle was so good. We laughed about stories from high school and made fun of my current situation. In short, it was one of my best days I have had in a long time.

Later that day, after we'd said our goodbyes, I found myself walking around the prison yard wondering how I ever let EIGHT years of our lives pass without keeping in better touch. As I thought about it, I kept thinking of more and more people who have had a significant influence in my life whom I have simply lost contact with. What a shame that I have let that happen. Life is way too precious to ever lose contact with those who love us most-and especially for who we really are-even when we aren't at our best.

When Maggie moved to Logan a few months ago, she ironically ended up living a few houses away from Stan and Michelle. Stan and Michelle's oldest child is the same age as her and he is taking her to their high school homecoming dance in a couple of weeks. How I wish I could be there, not only to tell him that whatever he does to Maggie, I will do to him...but to see my best friend's son take my daughter on a date. Serendipity indeed.

My hope is maybe-just maybe, I can influence one of you to reach out to someone who you have lost contact with. They may need you at this very moment.

Lastly, another good friend sent me a letter this week that had a section titled..pretty good if I do say so myself.

Advice From a Sasquatch

-Be Yourself
-Make a Big Impression
-Embrace Mystery
-Spend Time in the Woods
-It's OK to show up Unexpectedly
-Be Gentle on the Earth
-Live a Legendary Life

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire