Inmates speak at MMS assembly
Staff reporter
"Since it happened to me, it can happen to you" was the sentiment echoed by three inmates of the El Dorado Correctional Facility.
The men spoke Wednesday afternoon to Marion Middle School students as part of the activities during Red Ribbon Week for drug awareness.
Members of an honor camp, the inmates earned the privilege of living in the facility without fences. Also, they can work in the community, and travel to communities for speaking engagements.
Nick Bennett, a 26-year-old from Erie, has served 18 months of a 36-month sentence for aggravated battery.
Bennett said that he didn't do anything wrong in junior high and high school.
"I had never even received a speeding ticket before I got myself in trouble," said Bennett.
"I played football, threw the shot put, was in track. I had a track scholarship to college," said Bennett. But then he started taking drugs and lost his scholarship.
"Once I lost the scholarship, I didn't care about anything," said Bennett.
Bennett said he took methamphetamine, LSD, and anything to get high. When the drug addiction became expensive, he decided to become a drug dealer. He liked the power the drug dealer had and, of course, the money.
"I dealt cocaine and weed and made a lot of money," said Bennett. When people owed, Bennett often had to resort to violence.
Fighting became a part of the job for Bennett in order to protect his drugs and make his customers pay.
Bennett was threatened by a man who said he was going to kill Bennett and his father. Bennett beat the man with a baseball bat which led to his conviction.
"I have to pay over $50,000 in medical bills to the guy I beat up," said Bennett.
Bennett emphasized that anybody can be led astray.
"I played it right in junior high, in high school, and two years of college," said Bennett. "Watch every step you take. You can screw up, too."
Bennett had a warning to bullies.
"Being a bully is going to come back to get you," added Bennett. "Someday somebody is going to get revenge."
Bennett feels fortunate to have been sentenced for only 36 months.
"If I screw up (when paroled), I'll go back for 15 to 20 years the next time,"
Kevin Johnson is from Wichita and is doing time for selling cocaine and methamphetamine. This is Johnson's second time in prison having been arrested previously for the same charge. He has a 74-month sentence and has served 48 months.
Johnson warned the students that "anyone who offers drugs or alcohol to you isn't your friend."
"I've made bad decisions; that's why I'm here (prison)," said Johnson. He told the students that decisions they make now may determine their future.
"If you do drugs, you will end up in prison or dead," warned Bennett. "Selling and doing drugs is a long road that will end and you probably won't like the way it ends."
James Russell is from Kansas City and is 24 years old. He has been in prison since the age of 18 for second degree murder. (His original charge was first degree murder but he plea bargained to the lesser crime.)
Russell was sentenced to 96 months (eight years) and has completed six years.
He grew up in a good home, went to a Christian school but began to rebel in the fifth and sixth grades. Middle school was a turning point for him.
"School (for me) wasn't about academics," said Russell. "It was about being 'top dog,' who's going with who, defining your ground."
Russell wanted to "be somebody" and got involved in drugs. He refused to go to school and eventually dropped out his 10th grade year.
He was in and out of juvenile facilities until he turned 18. He bought himself a gun which led to the murder and his conviction.
Having six years to contemplate his actions, Russell determined that he didn't understand the true meaning of "consequences."
"This generation is facing tougher choices than our parents faced," said Russell. "The worst thing our parents faced was smoking a cigarette or getting in a fight."
This generation, however, is making life altering decisions every day — drugs, massive violence, sex — a lot harder decisions.
"My choices have affected my (six-year-old) daughter and my parents. I've dragged my little brother down."
"If I would have said 'no,' I wouldn't be in jail right now."
Russell challenged the students to make the right decisions now that will keep them on the "good road."
Students asked questions about prison life and day-to-day activities. The responses from the inmates conveyed the same message.
"Prison life is horrible," said Bennett. "All of your rights are taken away. You're humiliated. The lights are on all of the time. It's difficult to sleep. It's not someplace you want to be."
The menus are rotated, so the inmates have the same foods over and over.
Inmates who are dangerous or misbehave are locked in the "hole," which is a six-foot by nine-foot solitary cell with a bed and a toilet in the floor. Inmates spend 23 hours a day in the cell with one hour a day to exercise.
All inmates earn $1 per day, regardless of the number of hours they work.
If inmates get sick, it costs the inmate $2 for medical attention.
"The medical treatment is poor," said Bennett. There's a nurse on call and an infirmary which serves mainly the terminally ill inmates.
Not being able to see family and friends is the hardest part of being in prison. Visiting hours are 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays.
Inmates can receive phone calls but it costs $4 per call plus 90 cents a minute.
Once released the inmates have plans for the future. Bennett realizes that he must sever ties with his friends in Kansas City, where he lived when arrested. He wants to become a personal trainer and an anesthesiologist.
Johnson wants to return to work in the aircraft industry, where he was employed before his incarceration. Russell received his GED in prison and attends college. He also wants to renew his relationship with his daughter.
All three realize that because of their actions, the stigma of being a convicted felon will follow them the rest of their lives.
"I'll have to put on my job application that I'm a convicted felon," said Johnson. "I can't vote or work for the government."
"Whenever I'm stopped for a traffic violation, the cop is going to know that I'm a murderer," said Russell. "How is that going to affect my daughter?"
"Everyone in my hometown (Erie) knows what I've done," said Bennett. "I can't go back home."
