Halfway Back To Real Life (Part I) - (Centennial Community Transition Center)

On Tuesday, October 16, 2018 at 2:30 a.m. I began my journey back through the fires of hell. The routes that prisoners are transported along are like a gigantic subway line running through the major prisons in Denver. Rifle is literally the last stop on the subway line so in order to get back to Denver, prisoners must travel back through all of the major prisons. As you progress along the "subway line" you pick up more and more prisoners - each stop containing progressively more hardened criminals. By the time you make it to your final destination, the bus is separated into 3 main areas caged off from each other - life sentences in the front - those being released in the back - everything else in the middle. 

I didn't sleep at all the night that we left. I had so many thoughts and emotions as I took the last walk through the facility - the last walk through the hallway that led to my cell, the last walk across the yard that led to the track, the last walk across the grass that led to my ride out of prison and the last drive out of Rifle that led to my freedom. It was pitch dark outside and freezing cold - but I couldn't help but notice the beauty of the moment. The facility is located in an absolutely beautiful valley, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. If you didn't know any better you'd think they put the facility there for the views - the truth is that they are there as a reminder that there's only one way out of the valley and that's in a van driven by guards. I was not sad whatsoever to be leaving Rifle but I was sad to be leaving some very good relationships behind. I knew that there were many people, both guards and inmates, who I would never see again. But after nearly 9 months of incarceration, I was taking the ride down the canyon for the last time.

The thing that I was regretting most about the transport was having to wear handcuffs again - on both my hands and my ankles. I've never really received an explanation as to why the handcuffs are necessary, especially for those of us that were on the ride to be released. But they are required and for those of you who have never had a pair of handcuffs on, suffice to say, there is nothing worse. In fact, I've told Sallie multiple times that the two worst sounds in the world are the sound of handcuffs clanking shut around your wrists and the sound of a solid steel door slamming shut separating you freedom. I'll never get over either of those sounds. 

There were 3 of us that left Rifle. The first leg of our journey took me back to Delta, CO - it was about a 3 hour drive. I spent 3 weeks in Delta earlier this year on my way through the system to Rifle. Once we arrived in Delta we were transferred from a van into a large school bus. There were an additional 8 or 9 inmates that joined us from Delta. The bus was the same one on which I had nearly froze to death back in January. As our luck would have it, it was just as cold as we made our way through the high Colorado Mountain passes on our way over to Buena Vista, CO. We could see our breath for the entire 4 hour trip and all we had on were our prison scrubs- it was SO cold. Once we arrived in Buena Vista we were transferred to a nicer bus. This bus was the quintessential prison bus - it looked like a war machine. Bars on the windows, multiple armed guards in the front and back, segregated cages, etc. This was all required because at Buena Vista the highest security threat level prisoners were loaded up to ride with us. It was a 1.5 hour drive over to Cell House 5 located at the Territorial Prison in Canon City, CO. 

I wrote a lot about Cell House 5 during my first few blog posts. It's the oldest prison west of the Mississippi. It looks identical to what you would imagine a prison to look like - imagine Alcatraz, Shawshank or The Green Mile. Billy the Kid was a prisoner there. It consists of multiple floors of 10'x8' barred cells. It's absolutely wild inside because it is essentially a crossroads for prisoners who are headed out to their ultimate destinations. It is extremely loud inside of the prison because there are no doors to the cells - just bars - and guys talk, scream and fight ALL NIGHT. And if the prisoners don't keep you up, the rats will. It's a terrible place and I did not enjoy spending the night there. However, there was some joy in knowing that I was headed back through the system instead of out to one of the prisons - for the second night in a row, I didn't sleep at all. 

The next morning I was so exhausted from going 2 nights with no sleep. Normally, you'd get the opportunity to sleep on the bus but the handcuffs make that nearly impossible. We left Cell House 5 and made our way to Colorado Springs where we started dropping off inmates at different prison facilities. It was surreal to be back this close to home, seeing things I recognized and hadn't seen in nearly 9 months. After making multiple stops, we finally started heading towards Denver. We pulled into the Denver metro area at around 2 pm. They were taking those of us going to halfway houses to an old army base called Camp George West located in Golden, CO. In order to get there we had to take the 470 Freeway which passes within 3 miles of our home, my stomping grounds. I felt like I was in a dream as we drove down the freeway, past my office, the LDS Temple, familiar date night restaurants - I'd been praying and dreaming about this ride for a long time and it was all so suddenly happening. It was hard to come so close to my real life without being able to stop and smell the roses. However, I found myself overflowing with emotion, particularly gratitude for what was happening. An hour later we arrived at Camp George West where they took off my handcuffs for the last time ( I can promise you that). They informed us that our respective halfway house vans would be there to pick us up sometime in the next few hours and just like that the bus was gone. There were 8 of us who were headed to halfway houses - and we all stood there, dumbfounded that we no longer required guard supervision - it was an awesome feeling.  

There were only 2 of us headed to the Centennial Community Transition Center. After a couple hours of waiting, a van showed up and picked us up. Within minutes we were cruising through the downtown Denver area headed towards Centennial. The van pulled up at the house (it actually looks more like a small hospital), the doors opened and we unloaded. And for the first time in 9 months, I was halfway to being a fully liberated human. And it felt good. 


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