Echoes Within the Craw of the Beast

By John Heid

John LaForge and I were disgorged from the Ashland County jail on the eve of Mother's Day, after a Lenten-spring retreat of some 60 days. Jail has typically afforded me an acute perspective of self and society much like those 3-D glasses we used to don at the cinema. This recent two-month trip through the room of mirrors was no exception. This time my chronicle is somewhat uncharacteristic, however, as "images" came to me by way of quotations, which echoed within the cinder block and one-way glass rooms. These still echo within me.

"Cleaning cart! Get up and clean! Now!" These are the first words we heard each morning. Our wake-up salutation blared through the loudspeaker from one unseen; one who lives on the other side of the glass. The presumption is there are no "good mornings" in jail.

"To have a child is to decide to have your heart forever walk around outside your body." (Native American wisdom). Gloria Piche sent this reflection on the backside of a photo of Jonas David Hutchinson born to her and David Hutchinson on February 11. This became a mantra of sorts as I moved closer to release on Mother's Day eve.

I was awakened many nights by guards walking through the cellblock "doing the count" and slamming the weighty metal doors as they passed. One night I heard the familiar slam and realized that the brother-in-brown (vs. inmate orange) was still on the block. Peeping my eyes above the pillow I took a surreptitious glance and observed him staring at the smoky "one-way" glass. He appeared mesmerized. Then using his walkie-talkie he called for assistance. "Mary Lee [another guard], you won't believe this but I locked myself in! Can you buzz (open) the door?" As an afterthought he offered a loud: "Now I know what it's like on the other side of the glass."

"We pray with our bodies when we put them in front of tanks. We pray with our hands when we link arms to fight injustice. We are co-creators with the Divine when we resist evil. The world is more sacred at these moments." From, Praying With Our Hands: 21 Practices of Embodied Prayer from the World's Spiritual Traditions by Jon M. Sweeney.

Michele Flateau sent this Pauline verse at just the right time: "But whenever anyone turns to our God, the veil is removed. Now our God is the Spirit and where the Spirit of our God is there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces reflect our God's glory, grow brighter and brighter as we are being transformed into the image we reflect." 2 Corinthians 3:16-18.

Perhaps the most incisive comment that came through the glass was offered by 5-year-old Jenneca Rose, daughter of Mary Grace and Sebastian Graber of Wolftown, Virginia. She sent a sketch of a jail cell with the query: "Why do they always paint the windows of jail cells black?" I don't know, Jenneca, why?

For every prayer, every letter, every moment of hands-doing-peace work. For all the loving support that nourished me during this recent retreat, I am grateful. Truly we were linked arm-in-arm in the struggle vs. injustice. One-way glass notwithstanding. After all it's a matter of Spirit.

[John Heid recently served a 60 day sentence for repeated trespass at Wisconsin's Project ELF site.]