On Saturday (January 18, 2020), I drove to Ione, California to visit Travis Christian at Mule Creek State Prison. I’d been sick for three weeks and was glad I was feeling well enough to make the hour-and-half drive. I didn’t want to let Travis down and miss our regular monthly visit.
When I checked into the visiting center, the guard said, “Your visit will be delayed 20 minutes or so. We had a fog check this morning. Everything was locked down. It took us an hour to complete the prisoner check so we’re running a little behind.”
The guard pointed me toward a table. After a few minutes, a prisoner with a dust cloth stopped and asked, “Would you like me to straighten your table? Would you like me to clean it off for you?” This prisoner spoke with a pleasant smile on his face. He wore glasses and bore tattoos on every exposed feature — arms and neck. I thanked him. He said, “Have a good day.”
In a half hour, the guard directed me to one of four visiting cubicles reserved for prisoners in solitary. Travis was already coming through the door on his side of the glass. I picked up the phone. “Hi Travis.” “Hi Dede.” Already the clock was ticking on our one-hour visiting time. Because I’d been sick, I hadn’t written to Travis since our December visit. He’d learned I was sick from my neighbor who writes to him. “Are you okay? I was so worried about you, Dede.” In an hour, Travis would be all over the emotional map. Glad to see me. Sad and missing his family. Afraid for his future. Anxious because he’s received no information about how long he’ll be in solitary, when he’ll face trial, what the charges will be. Frustrated with his weekly therapy sessions. “I wish I could sit on a sofa when I talk with the clinician.”
I asked, “What do you sit on?”
“I’m in a cage.”
Travis spends too much time in cages. He paces in a cage during his three-hour yard times. “Do you have something to sit on if you want to stop pacing?” “A toilet.” “Does the toilet at least have a lid on it?” “No".
(I think I need to get a job at this prison. I’d make a few changes.)
I told Travis that Kelli Buttler, a Sacramento woman who writes to him on a regular basis, reached out to me and said she’d like to visit him, too. I told Kelli about the paperwork involved to become an approved visitor. Travis’s eyes lit up. “I like her letters. I’d love to meet her.”
I posited another idea. “Travis, how would you feel if we could set up a Team Travis so you’d have a visitor every weekend? Would you like that? Would it feel intrusive? What do you think?”
Travis’s eyes got teary. “That would be amazing. I’d love that. No, it wouldn’t be intrusive. If someone cares enough about me to come visit, I’d want to be open with them.”
I didn’t promise anything. “I’ll see what I can do.” (If I were younger, I’d take this ball and run with it. Maybe an organization of volunteers to visit prisoners in solitary all over the country. A quiet stampede to call attention to the inhumanity in our criminal justice system. Sometimes I get carried away :-)
As usual, our hour flew by. Travis mentioned Pat, Joan, Sue, Christy, and Kelli (I’m not remembering all the names) who are writing to him on a regular basis. “Joan writes me everyday. I told her she doesn’t have to write that often. She has her own life to lead.” Someone sent him a copy of the book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions On Writing and Life by Anne Lamott. It came from Amazon and he didn’t know who sent it. He loved the book and read it in three days. “Please tell them ‘Thank you.’ I’m writing. Some stories. Some journaling. I’m writing for my family. I love them so much. I miss them.” Teary eyes.
I drove home thinking about Team Travis. Could we get volunteers to visit once a month or every other month or three times a year? We’d prioritize Kathy’s visits with her son and work around her schedule. She lives in southern California and tries to visit once a month. Kelli had asked me, “Is it scary visiting the prison?” I said, “No. It’s not scary. It’s depressing but so rewarding. You make a huge impact on someone’s life — offering a lifeline to the outside world. Letting them know they’ve not been forgotten.”
I hope to hear from some of you. Let’s see where this goes. Team Travis. It has a nice ring don’t you think?
Travis’s mailing address:
Travis Christian BB8099
C-12-242
Mule Creek State Prison
P.O. Box 409060
Ione, CA 95640
On the way home from Mule Creek State Prison
Photo credit: Dede Ranahan