CONFIDENTIAL FILE

Good Resolutions Behind Jail Bars

Not all is grim behind the walls of prisons.

The
latest edition of the Menard Time — monthly tabloid put out by inmates
of Illinois State Penitentiary — has as its "Photo Quiz" question of
the month:

What resolutions have you made to make 1959 a better year for you?

Among answers was the following from inmate Bill Herrington:

"I
shall abstain from richer foodstuffs, concentrating on basic staples
such as beans, spuds and frankfurters. I shall abstain from all legal
intoxicating beverages.

"I also resolve to discipline my activities by abstaining from boating, water skiing, mountain climbing and hiking."

In the dank, depressing cold of Tijuana’s city jail last week, there were
also moments of levity.

A subtle one came when a small Mexican boy was passed through the clanking door into the cellblock to visit his father.

Tucked
into a holster belt strapped around the boy’s waist were two very
realistic-looking pistols. But the guard didn’t even bat an eye at
them.

The Americans picked up in the Rosarito Beach gambling raid were the stars of the show — the privileged class.

They
had extra blankets, special food and the services of "runners" — kids
who’d keep them supplied with coffee, cigarettes and other jail
luxuries.

They were allowed visitors just about any time of day or night.

But in Cell 5-C was another American, not quite so lucky. His crime, he told me, was running a red light.

He
had one thin blanket to keep himself warm. He ate the regular jail
fare. He had no errand boys at his disposal, and when his wife and five
kids had come to visit him the night before, they were turned away
because it was "too late," even though others received visitors
afterward.

He called me over to his cell during one of the few quiet moments there.

"Being
here’s not too hard on me," he said. "But my wife. It’s real hard on
her. We don’t do too good when I’m out there working, but this — I’ve
got to get out or those kids of mine are going to get awful hungry."

Jailers Raise Ante

It was his third day in jail, the man told me.

"They
said it would take $80 to get me out," he went on. "So my wife borrowed
$80 from a friend of hers. Gave away the pink slip on my car.

"But
when she brought the money here, they said it was $24 more. I don’t
know where she’s going to get it. Even if she does, they might just
boost it up some more."

I asked him how much time he’d have to serve if she couldn’t raise the money.

"I don’t know," he answered. "They haven’t told me. But I imagine it’ll be a long time."