- FROM BALTIMORE
(LIZ WALZ)

"A light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

I went to a party last night. It wasn't very fancy. The decorations were streamers, made from paper towels torn into strips, and paper cranes. The "feast" consisted of oatmeal cookies and packaged Swiss Roll cakes, as well as an assortment of Hot Pork Rinds, BBQ potato chips, popcorn and pretzels. Due a supply glitch, water was the only liquid refreshment.

And although there was no one present to turn the water into wine, it was the Spirit of this party that I'll never forget.

The location of the soirée was my little home here in cellblock B8. The theme was "toga party" and the occasion was the farewell of two of our sisters here.

At the instruction of myself and the other Dorm Rep. all the sisters cleared out for the usual Friday night church service this week. Three of us stayed behind to decorate and lay out the feast.

The creative Spirit got the best of us, and after the preliminary setup was finished, we created two jailhouse party games: Bobbing-for-Now-n-Laters (individually wrapped taffy-like candies that dissolve in water - adding an extra element of risk and excitement to the game) and Pin-the-Pad-On-the Inmate. For this second game, we stuffed newspapers into a uniform (luckily one was available as we were attired in togas!) and attached a face and an identification tag drawn on paper to identify our new cellie.

When the women returned from church, they howled at our costumes. And then all eagerly changed into their own. Sister helped sister as new and creative fashions were designed from our bedsheets.

Buns and ponytails were let down as we tied garlands of paper towel in our hair, and wore bracelets around our ankles and upper arms.

When a couple of folks bemoaned the absence of a camera, one woman grabbed a pencil and paper and sketched our caricatures. We laughed as we "posed" for the pictures.

Tears of joy were streaming down faces as one woman said, "I'm going to miss you guys." And another commented, "I never thought I'd have this much fun in jail." "I feel like I'm in a sorority." "We should have a 5 year reunion."

This morning I awoke surrounded by concrete cinder blocks and steel bars. But for a couple of hours last night in Cellblock B8 of the Baltimore City Detention Center, the Kindom of God was near.

-Baltimore County Detention Center, April 1, 2000
[Liz Walz is serving an 18 month sentence for her part in the Plowshares vs. Depleted Uranium direct disarmament action of December, 1999.]