You’re walking down the street. It’s dark, no moon, street lights providing only a glimmering of a visible path. The sidewalk is worn, tread upon for years, broken to almost gravel. Just bits of rock. Chain link fence, rusted by the weather, guides your steps, keeping you out of the trash and debris, broken bottles, plastic jugs and random discarded items. You walk ahead, stepping straight, one foot pounding in front of the other, quickly but not rushing, not allowing anyone watching from the shadows to think you’re scared, running from something, or toward anything away from here.

That feeling, that pounding, deep emptiness in your chest, the beating of your heart, the hard whisper of your breathe throttling the decibels of a fighter jet in your ears, all of that comes to a screeching halt as soon as you see a movement. Someone, something in the corner of your eye, moving along the periphery, out of reach and hearing, but not out of sight. Catching in just a sliver of your eye, allowing the signals from your eyeballs to your brain to blow up your being, casting all sorts of demons throughout your imagination. You run. Now. Fast. Immediately, before the thought even happens. However fast you can, putting them behind you and not looking back until you know, you damn well know that there’s no one there anymore.

Some of us know that feeling, others maybe they’ve just seen those kind of places while driving through. Truly desperate areas, places no one walks alone at night.  Maybe it’s a little class bias, possibly some aspersions about race, but that’s for another discussion. No matter any of that, it’s just the way it is – the places like this are scary.

Even when you’re in a crowd in prison – too often, it’s especially when you’re in a crowd – it’s like being on that frightening street at 3 a.m. and completely alone. It’s more than a danger zone. It’s a free-fire field where anything goes. And it’s up to you to take care of yourself because no one else will.

For Craig, it’s an interesting juxtaposition to hear him talk about how he dealt with the threats that popped up, almost at any given time. It wasn’t like he was exposed to this type of potentially explosive situation growing up in the Park. It wasn’t always pretty there, and it had its share of illicit and illegal activity. But it wasn’t like he was part of the “criminal crowd” before going in. As it happens, he hadn’t had more than a couple speeding tickets before his confinement in Arizona.

Despite his clean record, once he went in, it didn’t take long at all to gain a clear understanding that being on your own island, being by yourself is not only difficult but potentially extremely hazardous. Yet he wasn’t one to just go along and play the part of the group. It’s not easy, finding an ally, but it was definitely something he needed to do, and quickly. It was the same every time moving yards. It’s the only thing that will get you through that crowd, out of that firing line. Even if your cellie wasn’t an ally, he couldn’t be an enemy. That had the possibilities of being too traumatic.

“It’s very difficult because anybody can bluff for a short period of time, but when you live with somebody day in, day out, morning to night seven days a week for months and years on end, you have to be very careful because people can see through you very easily.”

It happened all the time, he said. Like on the 3 yard with a dormitory of 40 guys. A new inmate would come in, he’d project a certain persona, but Craig, like most guys with a higher number, wouldn’t accept it right off. They wanted to see who he was in 2 weeks after he got settled in, or when he wasn’t watching his P’s and Q’s, when he fell back to who he really is. Too often, the newbie’s views and attitudes would change, revert to their real conduct about a week or two in. Sometimes the persona presented on Day 1 is the same all the way through. Not often though.

Normally the guys who came in and talked the biggest game were the ones who had the biggest change. Usually it indicated they were trying to cover up something. Either they’re scared, as something about them or their crime or something is not acceptable, or they think something about them is not acceptable in this environment. Sometimes for some reason they didn’t feel their natural self was acceptable, so, Craig said, they had to act like Billy Badass, when in reality they’re a Small Joe Nobody. There were plenty of nobodys running around.

How’d that sit with Craig?

“It boils down to what I think of people, because that’s what I think people think of me, if that makes sense. When I see someone is genuine Day 1 all the way through, I have greater respect for them than someone coming in talking a big game and he turns out to be someone else.”

Each prison is different. It has its own internal rules, if you will. It’s the way things just go. One common element though: every prison function is based on race. Craig said you can be your own individual, and be by yourself the entire time if you want. But what you have to do first is make sure that everybody, especially the shotcallers, the leaders on the yard, know that you will back your own race when the time comes. And it will come, and when it’s a race war, they had to know, in Craig’s case, he’s a white boy and he was going to stand with the white boys. After that, he said he could pretty much do what he wanted, as they knew if it came to it, he’d say, “I’m backing my own.”

But what about if someone didn’t fall in line when the shit hit the fan?

“I heard a story of a guy who didn’t do that, and there was race issues that came up and he didn’t back his own race. White guy who wanted to hang with blacks. Normal day, people are people. Few things though: don’t share cigarettes or food with other races. Play cards, softball, baseball, basketball. This guy, a white guy, wanted to hang with the blacks. An issue came up between white and black. He didn’t pick a side, I’m not exactly sure how it went down, but it ended up happening. In the chow hall, all the tables are already segregated: white, black, Mexican. The guy had to eat standing up. Black wouldn’t let him sit at their table. White wouldn’t let him sit at our table, because he didn’t support his own. It was, ‘You don’t want us, we don’t want you.’

“Being accepted and included is very important for your own safety, but at the same time, you didn’t want to fall into the group mentality. It’s a very fine line and takes a lot of concerted effort to keep right there in that middle ground where you’re not falling into, but not alienating either. Over the years, I had a few people compliment me on that. ‘You just keep to yourself, don’t bother anybody, but at the same time, everyone knows when the fur hits the fan, you’re not going to have any problem taking care of business. You’re very much a convict that way.’

“Thanks, I guess?”

He actually laughed at that when he said it. It was a chuckle that told me he really meant, “Wow, are you fucking kidding me? I just got complimented for being a criminal.”

You can tell, or at least I thought so on the few occasions that it happened, that there are times when, in his own head, it feels like Craig still doesn’t even understand how he ended up there, in that place dealing with those people, living with them, consorting with them. Not that he denies what happened or his responsibility for it, but you can hear it in his voice and what it sounds like is a completely fucking surreal moment he’s describing to himself, one that would have been more likely heard being described by someone else and he has no idea how the show ends. It’s just quite unbelievable to him in his mind that he was there dealing those people in that situation. I never took it to mean he was better than them. After all, he was convicted of murder. Who is he to talk much about others? But still, there’s something we all can see in people when you strip away their persona, their possessions, their superficial walls put up for the world to view. And when you dig deep, all the way to the core of a person’s being, you get a glance at who they really are, what way their beliefs really fall.

That’s why you can’t really confide in anybody in prison. Anyone who’s been there more than a minute will see right through you. As Craig said, when you’re first there, “you are so emotionally raw, and it’s a vicious environment, no other way to describe it.” They smell fear. They probe for weakness. They don’t need it to be real, honest weakness. All they need is a perceived weakness and they will pounce, peck on you and exploit you ruthlessly.

There’s also a sadistic side to the convict mentality that comes into play at this point. Some people prey on the new convicts because they have a need. It’s for their own gain, their benefit that the newbie can provide that wasn’t available before with the long-timers. And in other cases, all too often, it’s just for something to do. It’s an almost ritualistic humor that no one who has never been there in that situation will ever understand. Even though, many convicts don’t understand it, don’t condone or embrace it, but for whatever reason, some inmates there do it for their own gain, just “because they’re dicks if you show the slightest bit of weakness, figuratively,” Craig said.

That being said, it’s extremely difficult to do go it alone in prison completely on your own. There are guys who jump right in with a group, and they assume the persona of that group as soon as they assimilate. It’s a safety in numbers situation, where they want to establish a reputation. The question is: is that a reputation you really want? Craig knew for him, and often for most new inmates, the answer is no. They’re not better human beings; they’re just, just kind of monsters that walk around the yard. It’s a group of bad people and that’s what they do, bad things.

Craig said the craziest story he remembers to describe how sadistic this group focus becomes happened to a maintenance worker. He didn’t actually know the worker, knew the inmate. Sometimes, knowing any of the players in the saga isn’t as important as the story itself because they are regularly handed down from inmate to inmate over time. He has plenty of other stories that had been there long before he even entered the state penal system, but this one he had first-hand knowledge.

“There are 1,000 people who lived on five square acres. One guy, a white guy who was real decent, was running with one of the rougher crowds, which was unique because he was getting out. Very few people get released from maximum security yards; most work their way down, but for whatever reason, he was getting out from a 5 yard. He didn’t have much family but had this girl. They weren’t dating from the way I understand, they were platonic, just a friendship, and she set him up. She said he had a room in her apartment, a job raking leaves or something, did everything she could do to set him up. Helped with rent to get him on his feet when he got out.

“He was a decent guy, I couldn’t be happier for him. Then all of a sudden, I didn’t see him anymore on the yard, and thought ‘What the hell?’ I thought he was another month or so before getting out. At the time, I was working on cell doors for a job, in the maintenance department, in one of the protective custody areas, which is where when you’re in danger on the yard and you need administrative custody, you go to PC. Generally it’s for sex offenders, molesters, so it’s not good to have on your record because once you go in, you will never come out. Anyway, I was working doors and there he was. I said, ‘What the hell? Have you been hiding or something the whole time? Or what happened?’

“He shared this: he was a nice guy to be around generally, not just for prison, but the guys who ran around with him liked him so much, they wanted him to stay, so they gave him an assignment that would get street charges. It was an assignment to get another crime, so that then he’d be processed, get more time on his record, stay inside – just because they liked to have him around.”

That’s how fucked up the thinking there is. He refused. They said, “If you do not go kill this dude, we’re going to kill you.” So essentially, they gave this guy that assignment because they wanted to have him stay around because they liked him. Because he was kind, a nice person, just a good damn guy who they didn’t want to leave. That’s the kind of unrelenting, random viciousness that Craig talks about too often. To these players, this was totally logical to ask him to kill someone so he could stay on the yard. And if not, the automatic response was that we’ll just kill you. No biggie.

It’s the way things work in this place.

“This makes sense to these people. This is the best example to give regarding how these groups are vicious. It’s a mentality, the kind of group you are joining. As an independent, in a way, it’s very tricky to pull off. You get ostracized because you do not support groups in general. They look at you and treat you like, ‘Well fuck you, you can be a victim like everyone else is a victim. But prove you’re not part of our group, and not part of any group.’ But if something happens, everything in Arizona is based on race, as it’s always white-white, black-black. Now if something goes down, they think they need all the white boys to support, so you have to prove yourself that you support your own. If the shit hits the fan, they want to know they can count on you, that you’re their kind of people. Then they’ll keep you in the neighborhood.”

From the sounds of this, this isn’t the kind of neighborhood Mr. Rogers was envisioning. But maybe that’s just me.

Probably not.