By Angela E. Pometto
Herald Staff Writer
(From the issue of 11/18/04)

Following is the second in a series of articles about Glenmary missions in Appalachia. Staff writer Angela E. Pometto received a scholarship to attend the Glenmary Journalism Study Tour that visited eastern Kentucky and southwestern Virginia.

"Southwest Virginia is in a stage of transition and hungry for economic development. With layoffs in the coal industry here in Southwest Virginia, these prisons are vital to the local regional economy," reads a fact sheet from the Virginia Department of Corrections. But the prisons that were meant to solve problems are only multiplying them.

"The legislature decided that the best thing for economy was to build prisons," said Congregation of Notre Dame Sister Beth Davies, who works with the Binns-Counts Community Center in Stratton, Va.

Former Virginia Gov. George Allen was a strong advocate for this solution. He built three new prisons in southwest Virginia, including one super maximum security (supermax) prison, where the worst of the worst are sent. The state spent $248 million to build the three prisons and put up one a year from 1996-98, according to Sister Davies.

"It became the jobs program for economically challenged," she said. "It was built up like the best thing to happen to southwestern Virginia."

For the first time, people would have jobs with benefits. The prisons channeled millions of dollars into the local economy with contractors and vendors, and all three hired more than 400 new employees each. According to Sister Davies, these people went from working at fast food or grocery stores to a job where they were given a uniform, badge, power and a gun.

According to Sister Davies, within the supermax prison, the prisoners were kept in individual cells and only allowed out for a few hours each day. When they were out of the cell, they wore chains. The prison guards were given stun guns that shot 50,000 volts of electricity. Two deaths occurred from misuse of these guns, she said.

"It was made to be an explosive environment," she said, adding that after a short time, people realized there was no real need for the supermax facility. The prisoners did not really belong there.

Wallen’s Ridge Prison in Big Stone Gap, Va., is no longer a supermax prison, but since it was built that way, the structure remains an oppressive environment.

Almost immediately after the prisons were built, the community saw an increase in alcohol abuse, divorce and racism, Sister Davies said.

The supermax prison brought in prisoners from other states, including a large number of African Americans and Hispanics, and the Appalachian people had never dealt with racial issues before. There is supposed to be an equal racial ratio between prisoners and guards, but when the prisons came to this predominantly white area, it was impossible to keep that ratio.

Some of the prisoners could only speak Spanish and had a hard time following orders. But, according to Sister Davies, the prison guards were quick to use force to make them understand.

The prison guards began to seek out medication to help them deal with the job, and the pharmaceutical companies offered OxyContin. It was marketed as being non-additive.

OxyContin is a time release narcotic. When taken, it releases a little medication once every hour for 12 hours. The problem comes when the pill is crushed up and snorted. Then, the 12 hours of medication enters the system all at once for an incredibly powerful high and almost immediate addiction, she said.

"Prisons have become the concentration camps for drug addicts," Sister Davies said. "We’re still feeling the effects of people trying to make a living with this kind of work."

The gravity of the issues surrounding how prisons affect the community on the outside is balanced by witnessing the Church in Appalachia continuing the noble work of ministering to prisoners on the inside. Glenmary Father Jerry Dorn, who served as Glenmary president for eight years, now ministers to the inmates at the Kentucky Correctional Facility in West Liberty.

"I’m trying to bring the light of Jesus working in me to West Liberty," he said. "Be yourself. That’s how Jesus is going to be working through you."

Father Dorn said he has two things he wants people to know about prison ministry. First is that he was surprised to find a number of good people in prison.

"I thought they were jerks who don’t deserve breaks," he said. "I was wrong."

Secondly is that the number one pain to suffer is humiliation. The people in the prison are always losing. Father Dorn’s greatest hope would be to invite some of the prisoners to the parish for a meal and allow them to eat first. The warden will not permit that, however.

"I want to go right to the center of darkness," he said. "I don’t want to stop until I get to the center of the pain. There is so much pain in the world."

Father Dorn, pastor of Prince of Peace Parish in West Libery, incorporates the inmates into parish life. Whenever he visits the prison, he brings a bulletin with him so they can know what’s going on. Inside the prisons, the inmates remain stoic. If they show emotion, they will be labeled as weak. Father Dorn always lets them know that they can talk about anything when he is there.

When an inmate is released, Father Dorn is usually the first to welcome them out. He picks them up and prepares an elaborate meal for the ex-inmate and his family. There are many emotions involved when leaving the prison. They don’t know if they’ll be able to make it on the outside, he said.

"Everybody needs to know what it means to be free and to not be free," Father Dorn said. "Some behind bars are free, and some out here are not."