Days in the life of SHU inmate Timothy Greenlee

Friday, April 25th, 2003.

About 9.00 am Officers C. Wright and Phillippe came to my cell and demanded, "Do you want recreation?" I replied, "Yes".

Wright gave me a dirty look and said, "It's raining outside" as if that would seal the deal against my going -or he hoped it would. (They look for any reason to not do their job.)

I replied, "I don't care about the rain; I need to run". I placed my hands behind my back and out through the cuff-port, and I was handcuffed; and with the dog-leash ("good doggie") attached to my handcuffs, my door magically opened and I stepped out.

Surprise! The control pod was jammed full of high school kids who were staring at me intently drinking in this "maximum control" routine, their young faces pressed eagerly up against the safety glass. I Was the star in a much acclaimed thriller of schoolChildren. I glanced a few times at the faces staring at me, and I could clearly see excitement, fear, fascination there -all of these feelings. This was better than reality TV: look at that dangerous criminal there! My thirty seconds of stage time ended with my being placed outside onto the exercise yard and uncuffed. Thus freed, I immediately began to jog laps around the concrete enclosure (I had already stretched my back, calves, and legs earlier.), my feet splashing up water with every stride, the rain immediately soaking my clothing and running down my face. The surveillance camera above me (the eye in the sky) relayed my orbit to a video monitor inside the control pod, which, no doubt, the school kids were now watching intently commenting on my obvious insanity for going outside and running around in circles in this little rectangular enclosure in the cold rain -around and around and around in circles. This guy is really crazy! He's just like some of those wild animals in cages at the zoo, or like those captured wild beasts we see on the Discovery Channel. He's obviously dangerous! And from their perspective I suppose that I did look pretty strange, my actions seemingly crazy. And indeed the rain pouring down on me was cold, but between it and my body heat an equilibrium was soon found as I jogged. My attention focused inward and my thoughts were soon lost in spatial timelessness. I lost track of the number of laps I jogged in that time, perhaps thirty minutes. When I stopped and looked into the window (a 6" by 2 1/2'  "slit") the "tour" was ended -and only the lone guard was left in the control pod, automaton-like, manipulating door controls. Their thrills over with this day, those kids were probably heading back to their school- my predicament and normal (yeah, right) everyday actions would make a unique conversation piece for weeks to come -and with each re-telling of the experience I would no doubt become bigger, uglier, meaner looking, my stare full of hate as I visually menaced them and struggled against my captors.


Sunday, April 27th, 2003.

At approximately 5.00 am this morning the "psyche patient" living in cell 606 began cutting himself, all over his body, with some kind of metal object, which hasn't been recovered -he probably flushed it down the toilet.  He was subsequently taken to the outside hospital. This psychotic prisoner's name is Mark Hughes. He cut his anus open with a jagged piece of metal they say. Holy cow, Batman! And do you want to hear his crowning achievement? After he cut himself all over -arms, face, legs, torso, anus (are you on the edge of your seat yet?) -he smeared feces into all of the cuts! Talk about crazy! After he was brought back from hospital he was placed on so-called "suicide watch", meaning that for the next 72 hours a guard will be sitting in front of his cell observing him constantly. (They will rotate on 12 hour shifts.) He is totally "stripped out", meaning that he is allowed only a blanket and a mattress -nothin else.

Do you think this was bad? Well. yes it was. But later on, about 8.00 am, another "psyche patient", this one living in cell 607, somehow inserted not one but TWO plastic pen fillers into his penis! The pen fillers are about five inches long, but I don't know whether he cut one in pieces or what. I know that they took him to the outside hospital to remove the plastic from his urethra. In consequence of these strange incidents, the officer in charge, either Sergeants van Arsdale or Merritt, canceled all exercise yard periods and showers for the rest of B-east.

What a bunch of lazy bastards! They look for ANY excuse to cancel shower and out-of-cell time. The fact of these two patients being taken to the outside hospital could not affect the other operations of the SHU. Thus, for the rest of the day, that is for 12 hours straight, being paid over $11 an hour, every one of these guards sat on their invariably fat, saggy asses out in the main hallway and "bullshitted". Meanwhile, it was sunny and 75 degrees outside! About 2.00 pm Sergeant van Arsdale and his "little-pard" officer Horton came sauntering, yes SAUNTERING, by my cell. Horton peered in at me.

Then van Arsdale stopped and peered in at me and with a "shit-eating" grin on his face said, "You doin' alright in there, Greenlee?" to which I responded, "Hell no. Put me out on the exercise yard. You obviously have nothing else to do." He replied, "Can't do it. We have too many men trying to hurt themselves." And then he walked away smiling his "shit- eating" grin.

These fuckers are evil. The killing part of it is that he will get away with it, like he has hundreds of times before. These guards are being paid to do a job that they are not doing. Thus, the taxpayers are being swindled while at the same time I am being arbitrarily denied constitutional rights a little bit at a time. My statutory, that is "state created", rights are being over-ruled by a bunch of lazy, corrupt hillbillies who "get their rocks off" on committing petty acts of cruelty against prisoners, many of whom are mentally defenseless. The world does not see what goes on here inside the SHU. It's like a Black Hole -little information escapes. Who are the real criminals here?


Monday, April 28th, 2003.

Out to the exercise yard about 8.00 am. It was sunny and about 60 degrees. I ran 250 laps straight. I glanced up at the Sojourner who has been hard at work constructing a new web or rather enhancing what was left of its murdered mother's. When I came back inside I was "allowed" a shower. Once in the shower I was quickly lost in my own thoughts but after perhaps ten minutes got around to shaving.  So there I was standing at the see-through shower door, approximately seven to eight feet from the Control Pod, naked as the day I was born with my face lathered up ready for my shave when I glanced at the Control Pod, and, surprise, there was a group of perhaps ten high school girls staring at me, or more precisely speaking, staring at my anatomy. Some were laughing and giggling, as young girls are known to do, while others were just staring, seemingly mesmerised. For my own part, what could I do but smile and wave? Some waved back red-faced while others turned their backs in embarrassment. But some continued to enjoy the view! Hence I starred in a rated-x "feature" today. I must admit that when I became aware of the girls staring at me, the physiological response was immediate -in seconds my penis was stiff! In modesty, I put on my wet boxer shorts that I had just washed out by hand (I didn't have a towel because laundry is turned in on Sunday nights and returned on  Monday nights and I only have two towels).

Then once some of the psychotic patients noticed the "tour" going on inside the Control Pod, all hell broke loose! Scores of patients began screeching obscenities, banging on cell doors and their cell fixtures, etc. the noise was deafening -and I had to endure the full brunt of the decibel level because in the shower" don't wear my earplugs.

I long for the time when I will be able to enjoy relative solitude again. This is too much for anyone to bear indefinitely. I can only imagine the stories those girls will tell about the naked man they saw in the shower today. I do know, at least, what one
feature of their story will be -for I am very well endowed!

Tim Greenlee

PCF #865760

PO Box 30

Pendleton, IN 46064

© Copyright 2003 Timothy Greenlee

The truth about Supermax by Timothy

A conversation by Timothy

Comments regarding the Conversation

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