Solitary Confinement: A Jail Within a Jail

Solitary confinement will always be a part of my life.

My first experience with solitary was when I was twelve years old. In the sixties, I was in the Douglas County Youth Center. I believe it was January of 1968 when I was placed there for a non-violent juvenile crime. I was put in a cell by myself for three days. This cell was structured in total darkness. I still don’t know why I was put in solitary confinement. Maybe it was some kind of orientation or shock therapy.

In most facilities it is called the hole. Some other terms are intensive management, the SHU (Special Housing Unit), and long-term seg. That’s just a few. For it to be a hole, there’s only one man in the cell. Multiple people are never let out of their cells at the same time. It’s a jail within a jail. There is always noise. It’s a strange place to be, and I’ve seen some of the strangest things happen there.

During my first nineteen years of incarceration in Nebraska, sixteen of them were spent in solitary confinement. There’s really no space in the cell. There is some movement, but it’s not really movement. You walk back and forth in this little space to kill time. It seems like you’re going forever, but you’re going nowhere.

You just keep sitting in total nothingness. Not your own nothingness, but the whole world’s nothingness. The days turn into months, the months turn into years. Being in that cell alone actually tortures your soul, and at times it feels like it strangles you. It’s like a coffin lid closing down on you. When you get to the point where you can neither move nor think, you are totally lost. If you have not experienced the hole for years, it’s hard to understand.

The dimensions of the cell, the length and width, are inhumane. If an animal in a zoo were housed in these conditions, the zookeeper would be accused of cruelty. It’s illegal to house an animal like that, although we’re humans.

I have experienced everything you can experience in that cell. I must fight every day to battle the boredom that will crush my spirit if I’m not careful. I have to read and write so I won’t lose my mind. All I have is myself and some memories, and not many good ones. Your body plays with your mind; your mind plays with your body. The real world is out of touch when you’re in the hole. You become quiet. You become an introvert. The hole is not fantasy. It is real. It will haunt you. It is a world that defies solitary sensory deprivation.

When you’re surrounded by nothing but concrete and bars, everything dazzles you. When you get out of the hole, all colors are bright. People seem to walk faster. It’s the movement of things. The feel of things. Different smells. When someone is sent to prison, he is taken from all the sensations of society. A man is taken from other prisoners when he is put into the hole.

To survive in the hole is an everyday ordeal. You have to get some kind of routine going or you’ll nut out. You’re isolated in a cell the size of a small bathroom for years. Somehow or someway I made it through.

It will always be a part of my life. Even today it has an effect on me. I wake up at night occasionally with anxiety attacks. I feel the walls closing in and the ceiling lowering on me. God has my back, and I believe in His plan for me. It’s better than any plan of mine.