"The parting of my Wife and poor Children hath oft been to me in this place as the pulling flesh from my bones."
John Bunyan (1666)

John's Story

| Prison Conditions | Categorisation of prisonres | Community ties | Support Services | Monitoring prison conditions | John's Story |

When I came into prison I was brought into reception first. I was stripped naked and made to bend over to make sure there were no drugs up my back passage. This was the most humiliating thing. Worse than I'd ever had, even in the army. They give you a shower and all your clothes: grey corduroy trousers, green shirt, black plastic shoes (or runners), two pairs of socks, two pairs of Y-fronts, two vests. The kit comes from the laundry. I took the under-wear but wouldn't wear them. I wanted my own socks and boxer shorts. I got my own clothes after I was sentenced.

I was given a pillowcase with two sheets and a towel and brought up to the landing. It was about 6.45 a.m. I didn't know what to expect. I thought there would be a 'reception committee' of other prisoners spitting at me and taking my stuff. I thought they'd know I was new and try to take advantage.

They took me to a cell with another prisoner. This prisoner asked the officer what I was in for. He said, "a serious charge". The prisoner asked was it a sex charge. The officer said "no". The officer didn't know the details himself. When he found out he told the other guy. I was in that cell for a week. Then I was brought to court to be remanded again and was moved to a cell on another wing. My chamber pot in the first cell had not been changed for years. It was encrusted with sediment. When I changed cells I was given a new pot which I kept for seven and a half years. When I moved on from Mountjoy it was starting to leak because I had scrubbed a hole in it. I had the same jug, knife and fork for seven and a half years also.

I saw the doctor on the day I went in. He said, "are you in for murder, son". I was shaking. Said, "yes". He said he'd give me a few pills to calm me down. I was doped up to the eyeballs. For the first three days I don't remember a thing. I woke up one morning and didn't know where I was. It was three or four months after I was sentenced that I really realised I was in prison. I knew where I was but up to that it had felt like a dream. I was in the queue for the shop one day and looked at the clock. Then I suddenly knew I was in prison. I nearly snapped. I had a visit that day and broke down crying. One of the officers saw me crying. He made sure that I got an extra visit each week.

The officers took me under their wing. I got into music and drama. I done my Group, Inter and Leaving Certificates inside and three and a half years with the Open University. I would study all night. I was always busy. Until I came into prison I didn't know the talents I had: drama, music, writing poems. Prison brought these things out in me. I hope to start my own business. I think I can be successful. Hand on heart, in all my time in prison I haven't had one negative experience with an officer. I'd love to be able to turn around and say "the scumbags done this and that". But in all my sentence I've never met a bad officer. Maybe it's because I had been in the army, where you don't like the rules but you have to obey them. If you give the officers a bit of respect you get it back. I done a despicable crime and was treated with respect.

I kept to myself. I made friends but knew that when I got out I would not renew these acquaintanceships. I will be on life licence. Don't want to mix with ex-prisoners or could be pulled back into prison. I won't risk that for anyone.

What was my first impression? It was frightening. Terribly frightening. The first time you walk out on the landing you don't know what's going to happen. I've actually seen fellows getting stabbed - one got his face slashed open with a razor blade melted into the end of a toothbrush.

I used to get a visit every Wednesday morning at 10 o'clock from my mother, wife, mother-in-law and baby. One time the missus told me to lift the baby and hold her. I reached for her and an officer let out an unmerciful shout. This frightened the child so I gave her back. I didn't want to get into trouble. I only once hugged my daughter on a visit. Only once in seven and a half years. It was the most wonderful hug I ever had.

I think the most difficult thing in any bloke's life in prison is the distance between him and his family. When my mother was dying of cancer I wanted to give her a hug but couldn't because you're not allowed to have contact. I would write poems to my mother and long letters. I wasn't allowed out to visit her, except in handcuffs and under escort. I went to visit her when she was dying. She was in a coma. I was in handcuffs. They wouldn't take off the cuffs to let me hug her goodbye. I was not allowed to the funeral but was brought to the grave for thirty minutes, four days later. I haven't seen the grave since then. That was the hardest thing in my life - going to visit my dying mother.

I don't know when I'm going to be released. I thought I'd get out after my first review. I was always working and popular with the officers. I thought I'd walk it. When I came back from the review I felt like hanging myself. The Sentence Review Group have this thing about them. They think they are gods who will control you. I've done everything humanly possible to show that I can be trusted. I've worked so hard for everything but I haven't a clue what will happen next. I don't know what I have to do to get out. I'm stuck in limbo now.

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