Author: Ash ketcheum
I’ve been locked up in the Georgia Department of Corrections for fourteen years. I’ve got thirty years total. That means I still have a long road ahead of me.
The hardest part? Being away from my kids and family. And being around people that cause trouble when I am trying my best to do right and make it home some day. People on drugs acting crazy. Gang violence. Officers and staff being rude and making threats.
One time I was just getting off detail and I was eating my dinner. The detail officer came in and told me and another guy that she needs us to come back to work. I said can we finish eating first. She got mad and said never mind y’all are fired and I’m getting you white boys moved to a dorm I know y’all can’t live in.
I saw the deputy warden first before she could follow through. I told him what occurred and he said he would take care of it. He did. But she never got in trouble for it. She retaliated in other ways like not giving us food for lunch. She cussed us a lot. That went on for about two years. She’s no longer here, but that’s how it goes in GDC. Staff say things like I’m gonna put you in a place I know you can’t live or I’m gonna get someone to deal with you. I’ve heard it said to me. I’ve seen it said to others.
To stay out of trouble, I think of going home to my kids and family. That is what keeps me out of it. I stay away from drugs, debts, gambling, and gangs. I keep to a small circle of good guys.
My son and daughter are sixteen now. They were just little kids when this started. When I get to see my kids and family it means the world to me. I love them so much. Me and my kids are happy at visitation. I wish I could have been with them and been able to see them grow up. Even now I still want to be there for them. I want them to have a good life and I want them to be able to talk to me about anything cause I want to be there for them. It is hard to have those real conversations with the distance but they do open up some and it makes me feel good to be able to help if I can.
If they would just let us have a cellphone or a device to communicate with our families it would be a lot better, even if it has some restrictions. Every so often they come and visit me at visitation and when I get to use a cellphone I talk to them. But it’s not consistent.
GDC is getting worse. The food is bad, drugs are bad, gangs are bad, and the living conditions are bad. No heat or air. Everything inside the buildings either works half ass or don’t work at all. In the summer it is very hot so they sell us a small dollar store fan for thirty dollars and it does not keep you cool. You are only allowed one fan per person when we should be allowed three or more or a bigger fan. The price is expensive when it only costs five dollars at the dollar store. In the winter you only get two thin blankets and a jacket that has no liner in it so it is so cold your fingers hurt and go numb after a while. It’s even colder in a dorm built with brick and no insulation and no heat.
In the heat people have passed out. In the winter people get sick from being so cold. If there is an officer around to get medical they get there quick. When there is no officers it’s hard to get anyone. Most of the time there are no officers around so when we see one or somebody we beat on the windows to get their attention. Some time they respond and some times they act like they don’t see us. You never really know but if the situation was bad the person would be in trouble and could possibly die.
The kitchen where they cook the food is nasty. It has roaches and rats. When you go in there you see the roaches running out of the food pots and pans. The food don’t look right at all. It is bland and they give us small portions on Styrofoam trays. If it is dropped on the floor they tell them to pick it up and put it on the tray anyways. Some have gotten food poisoning. I myself had food poisoning. If you have money for the store you can live off that but for the ones that don’t we have to eat the food out of the chow hall.
When I got food poisoning, no officer was around. I had to make myself sick to make myself feel better. If I didn’t I would have died. All night until the next morning I was in so much pain. When morning came I didn’t tell anyone because they would not care anyways.
As a civilian we get punished for the gangs when they decide to hurt people. We us civilians have to go behind a door with them when we did nothing to deserve this. We lose store, visitation. That’s not right. When shakedowns happen you feel violated because they rummage through your stuff and make you strip naked and look at you from head to toe and then tell you to turn around and squat and cough while looking up your butt. They shake down when something bad happens or when they want to cover something up.
This place is torture because it is hard being away from family. Gangs are bad news. Some staff does care, some don’t care. This place can scar you for life with the things you see or hear in here. There is a lot of people in here with life sentences that need help to get home. Thirty years is too long and some people are actually innocent, not all but some. Cases need to be reviewed.
What keeps me going? The will to one day be home a free man. When I picture that day, I want to spend time with family and my kids and make a good living for myself and to never ever come to prison again. That’s what freedom means to me after all this time.