FLOYD COUNTY PRISON
Facility Information
- Bed Capacity
- 448 beds
- Current Population
- 301
- Address
- 329 Black Bluff Road SW, Rome, GA 30161
- Phone
- (706) 236-2490
- Fax
- (706) 236-2483
- County
- Floyd County
- Opened
- 1926
- Operator
- County
Security Classification
Last updated: October 22, 2025
0 of the 341 people held here are classified Close security (0.0%), undated table, produced October 22, 2025.
| Security level | People | Share |
|---|---|---|
| Close | 0 | 0.0% |
| Medium | 208 | 61.0% |
| Minimum | 133 | 39.0% |
| Total | 341 |
Source: Georgia Department of Corrections records produced to GPS under the Open Records Act (R024615-101925). A person's security level is GDC's classification of that person, which can differ from the prison's own designation.
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Leadership & Accountability (as of 2026 records)
Officials currently holding positional authority at this facility, with deaths attributed to GPS-tracked records during their leadership tenure. Inclusion reflects role-based accountability, not legal findings of personal culpability. Death counts shown as facility / career.
| Role | Name | Since | Deaths this facility / career |
|---|---|---|---|
| Warden (Floyd County Prison) (facility lead) | Long, Michael | 2024-01-01 | 1 / 1 |
| Deputy Warden of Security (facility deputy) | Cronin, Frank | 2026-07-16 | — / — |
About
Last updated October 25, 2026.(DS)
Floyd County Prison: A Century-Old Plant, a Thin Public Record, and Two Deaths in the Registry
Floyd County Prison is a county-operated correctional institution in Rome, in Floyd County, opened in 1926 and rated for 448 people. It is a medium-security facility for men that houses both state and county offenders and doubles as a labor pool for Floyd County government — public works, the Rome/Floyd Recreation Authority, animal control, recycling, police, the courthouse, the airport, Georgia State Patrol, and two contract details to the City of Rome. GPS's facility record puts its current population at 301, or 67.2 percent of rated capacity, with Michael Long as warden since January 1, 2024, and Frank Cronin as deputy warden of security since July 16, 2026.
What follows is not a story of a facility in open crisis. It is a story about what a nearly century-old county plant looks like when the system around it is failing — and about how little the public record captures. Floyd County Prison has produced almost no news coverage, no litigation in GPS's holdings, and no inspection findings that surface in this record. What it does have is two names in GPS's mortality registry, a physical plant built for a different era, and a position inside a set of statewide failures that GPS has documented in detail.
The Plant: Eight Dorms, Nine Segregation Beds, and a 1926 Footprint
The physical description GDC publishes for Floyd County Prison is specific and modest: eight dormitories of 56 beds each and one dorm of 40 beds, nine isolation beds, nine segregation beds, and eight beds in the sick bay. That is a facility organized around dormitory living rather than cell blocks, with a small specialty footprint — eighteen beds total across isolation and segregation, eight in medical.
The programming GDC lists is similarly bounded. Academically, the facility offers General Education Diploma coursework and remedial reading and math. Counseling includes individual counseling, Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous, and Motivation For Change. Religious programming is listed only as "Various Worship Services." GDC also lists "Special, Management, Unit" among the facility's designations.
That is the entire public account of what Floyd County Prison offers the 301 people held there. It is worth stating plainly because it is the only such record: no vocational program is listed despite the facility's role as a labor supplier to a dozen county agencies, and no treatment program beyond the AA/NA and Motivation For Change entries appears in the department's own listing.
Two Deaths in the Registry
GPS's mortality registry, which tracks deaths in GDC custody from January 2020 forward, records two deaths at Floyd County Prison in that period. Both are named here because a count is not a substitute for the people it counts.
John Blount died February 23, 2021, at Floyd County Prison at age 49; GPS's registry lists the cause as Natural/Medical. Jonathan Eric Mcgee died July 23, 2024, at Floyd County Prison at age 43; GPS's registry lists his cause as Unknown/Pending, meaning GPS does not yet know why he died.
Two deaths across more than four years at a facility of this size is not, on its face, an outlier — and GPS's registry is explicitly a floor, since GDC reports deaths roughly two months late. But the Mcgee entry is the kind of record that resists closure: a 43-year-old man, a cause the state has not resolved in GPS's holdings, and no public reporting in this record that explains it. GPS has independently tracked 1,927 deaths in GDC custody since 2020 systemwide; the Floyd County entries are two of them.
Staffing Collapse as the Systemwide Frame
Nothing in the public record ties a specific failure at Floyd County Prison to a specific staffing shortfall. But the statewide numbers are severe enough that they define the conditions under which any GDC facility — county-operated or not — now runs.
GPS has documented that officer vacancies in Georgia's prisons have run between 49.3 percent and 60 percent systemwide for multiple years, against a national standard of no more than 10 percent; at Valdosta State Prison the rate reached 80 percent by April 2024. The hiring pipeline cannot close the gap: an acceptance rate under 15 percent, and 82.7 percent of new hires leaving in their first year. Georgia ranks last of 50 states for correctional-officer pay. The October 2024 DOJ findings letter concluded that "the leadership of the Georgia Department of Corrections has lost control of its facilities" and faulted GDC for placing "too much blame on gangs and insufficient emphasis on understaffing."
The same findings letter and the Guidehouse 2024 consultant assessment independently concluded that gangs effectively run multiple facilities, controlling access to phones, showers, food, and bed assignments. Approximately 31 percent of the system's roughly 49,000 incarcerated population are validated members of 315 different security threat groups — more than double the national average. Tyler Ryals, a former GDC sergeant forced out in 2024 after whistleblowing, told GPS he had personally been the only security person on the entire Telfair compound of roughly 1,250 maximum-security inmates.
GPS treats staffing collapse and gang assumption of facility control as an integrated structural finding — the mechanism that explains the per-facility violence, classification, mortality, and infrastructure narratives across the system. Floyd County Prison's dormitory layout, with 56 beds to a room and eighteen specialty beds total, is the kind of plant in which supervision ratios matter most.
Food, Sanitation, and the Inspection Score Problem
GPS has documented that GDC spends approximately $1.69 per person per day on food (2024) and has proposed $1.60 per day in FY27 — under 60 cents per meal — against the FDA Thrifty Food Plan estimate of roughly $10 per day for an adult man's nutritionally adequate diet. The state spends approximately 14 times more on medical care for incarcerated people ($432 million) than on their food.
The Marshall Project corroborated the pattern in a May 16, 2026 investigation by Schwartzapfel, "Rats, Insects and Mold," independently reporting rats in kitchens, insects in food, moldy trays, and visible malnutrition across Georgia facilities, and quoting GPS connecting chronic underfeeding to the violence pattern the DOJ documented in October 2024.
GPS has further documented a systemic pattern of food-service sanitation failure that DPH inspection scores systematically fail to capture: tray-sanitizing dishwashers broken for sustained periods, with inmate-maintenance worker accounts collected at Dooly State Prison describing thousands of roaches inside kitchen equipment; sustained roach and rodent infestation in kitchen and serving areas; and meals served on visibly contaminated trays, corroborated by a Coastal State Prison resident's account and by The Marshall Project's investigation. The pattern is hidden from DPH scores because inspections are scheduled walkthroughs that do not assess equipment under load, and because GPS has documented professional overlap between inspectors and facility staff in small-county settings. High DPH scores at GDC facilities coexist with sustained witness reports of equipment failure and food contamination — the contradiction at the center of GPS's investigation "Dunked, Stacked, and Served."
Floyd County Prison, a small-county institution in a plant approaching its centennial, sits squarely inside that dynamic. GPS holds no DPH inspection record for the facility in this analysis, and the absence of a documented score is not evidence that the kitchen is sound.
Infrastructure at the End of Its Life
Most GDC facilities are 30 to 40-plus years old, with documented patterns of deferred maintenance that have produced systemwide infrastructure failures: broken cell-door locks (the Hays 2012 audit found roughly 42 percent non-functional, and Guidehouse 2024 confirmed the pattern), inoperative surveillance and fire-alarm systems, mold and water failures, broken kitchen sanitization equipment, and pest infestations. The DOJ October 2024 findings, the Guidehouse 2024 assessment, and Commissioner Oliver's public "end of life" statements all corroborate the pattern.
Floyd County Prison is older than most of that cohort by decades. GPS treats infrastructure collapse as a force multiplier for the violence, classification, gang-control, and mortality crises GPS has documented at the facility level — a plant built in 1926, running dormitory housing and a small segregation footprint, is exactly where deferred maintenance compounds.
Sexual Violence and the Limits of PREA
GPS has documented that sexual violence in GDC facilities is systemic. The October 2024 DOJ findings letter concluded that sexual assault is "rampant" and that GDC does not reasonably protect incarcerated people, including LGBTI individuals, from sexual harm. Of 456 sexual-abuse allegations recorded in 2022, only 35 were substantiated — 7.7 percent. GDC's own consultants, PREA Auditors of America, reviewed 388 PREA investigation files in May 2022 and found that not one met the law's standards. Georgia has never submitted a PREA certification of full compliance to the U.S. Department of Justice in the law's two-decade history.
The documented clusters are elsewhere in the system — the at-knifepoint assaults at Pulaski State Prison, the 2020 Smith State Prison case in which an incarcerated person was waterboarded and sexually assaulted by his cellmate, and at least four staff arrests for sexual assault since 2020 at Lee Arrendale State Prison, including the November 2024 Cameron Cheeks plea. GPS treats the pattern as systemic rather than facility-isolated, and the Ashley Diamond litigation established the constitutional baseline that launched the DOJ investigation.
What the Record Does Not Show
The honest finding about Floyd County Prison is that its public record is thin. GPS holds no lawsuit, no inspection report, and no news coverage specific to the facility in this analysis. Its two registry deaths are named above. Its warden, Michael Long, has held the post since January 2024; its deputy warden of security, Frank Cronin, since July 2026.
That thinness is itself worth noting. A 1926 county institution holding 301 men, supplying labor to a dozen county agencies, and offering a GED, AA/NA, and worship services is not a facility anyone is watching closely. GPS's reporting on the systemwide crises — staffing, food, sanitation, infrastructure, sexual violence — describes the water this facility swims in. What happens inside it, specifically, remains largely undocumented.
Sources
This analysis draws on GPS's facility record and mortality registry for Floyd County Prison; GPS's systemic findings on staffing collapse, food-service sanitation, infrastructure failure, and sexual violence across GDC facilities, which rest in turn on the October 2024 DOJ findings letter, the Guidehouse 2024 consultant assessment, GDC's own PREA audit history, and Commissioner Oliver's public statements; The Marshall Project's May 16, 2026 investigation by Schwartzapfel, "Rats, Insects and Mold"; and GPS's own investigative work on food-service inspection scores. Facility leadership and population figures are drawn from GPS's personnel and facility databases.
Mortality Statistics
2 deaths documented at this facility from 2020 to present.
Deaths by Year
- 2026: 0
- 2025: 0
- 2024: 1
- 2023: 0
- 2022: 0
- 2021: 1
- 2020: 0
Food Safety Inspections
No inspection records are on file with the Georgia Department of Public Health for this facility. GPS has filed an open records request asking where these records are maintained.
What the score doesn't measure. DPH grades kitchen compliance on inspection day — food storage, temperatures, pest control. It does not grade whether today's trays are clean. GPS reporting has found broken dishwashers at most Georgia state prisons we've documented; trays go out wet, stacked, and visibly moldy — including at facilities with recent scores near 100.
Who inspects. Most Georgia state prisons sit in rural counties — often with fewer than 20,000 people, several with fewer than 10,000. The environmental health inspector lives in that community and often knows the kitchen staff personally. Rural inspection regimes don't have the structural independence you'd expect in a city-sized health department. Read the scores accordingly.
Read the investigation: “Dunked, Stacked and Served: Why Georgia Prison Trays Are Making People Sick”