University of Virginia Library

Virginia's prisons:
whole picture
never shown

by bruce franzel
cavalier daily staff writer

art by gary kreger

—ed.

Existing conditions within the prisons
of Virginia have been well publicized over
the past year. Perhaps this is one of the
main reasons David Bromley's invitation
to University students to join his
Sociology 5 class on a tour of the
Richmond State Penitentiary received
such a large response.

Anyone who foolishly thought that
they would actually have an opportunity
to see for themselves the horrors they
have been reading about must have been
sorely disappointed at the end of the
tour. Many may even have left the
Penitentiary with serious doubt these
"sensationalized stories of terror" which
they had heard so much about.

As we turned down Spring Street the
immensity of the structure hit us at once.
The brick walls seemed to travel up
several hundred feet and stretch for
several blocks.

Had we somehow not seen the massive
compound, the presence of the
rifle-toting guard in the middle of the
road would have told us we were at the
right place.

We walked up the front stairs and
entered a small room with a wall of bars
in front of us. The tour had already
begun but the guards permitted us to join
them along the way.

The barred door was opened and we
waited for someone to escort us to the
rest of the group. In the large hall several
guards milled around exchanging occasional
obscenities. They asked us if we
were carrying any guns (we weren't) and
then had us sign a list releasing them from
any responsibility should we be injured
within the prison.

We were told that the rest of the
group was up in the machine shop and we
were to wait next to the guard station.

An old black convict with no teeth
pushed a cart with empty cartons in it,
into the yard. The guard stopped him and
checked through the cart and then said it
was all right to proceed, and the prisoner
pushed the cart ahead, smiling at us and
saying, "How are ya, suh."

While we waited for the tour to come
down from the machine shop we chatted
with the guards. They were all quite
friendly until I started asking questions
about treatment of prisoners and then
they suddenly became quite cool toward
us.

I asked the young guard if he was
familiar with Mr. Philip Hirschkop, the
American Civil Liberties Union lawyer
from Alexandria who has been fighting
for quite a while to put an end to the
"horrifying conditions" which exist in
the penitentiary, the State Farm, in road
camps and in county jails throughout the
state.

Mr. Hirschkop has attacked the
Virginia prison system in speeches given
throughout the state, including one at the
Law School here last spring. He also has
testified before a Senate subcommittee
on prison conditions.

When I mentioned Mr. Hirschkop to
the guard, the smile on his face
disappeared and he said that he never
wanted to see "that obstinate SOB"
around the prison ever again.

After a few more words about Mr.
Hirschkop were exchanged, the tour
group came down into the yard with a
guard at the front of the line and one in
the rear.

After talking to a few of the students
in the group I learned that they had seen
the metal and license shops and some
single cells.

We then proceeded to a large building
where they had double cells. The beds
were neatly made and pajamas were
neatly folded on the beds. The two-man
cells were about eight by ten feet and had
bunk beds, two wooden chairs, a table, a
toilet and a sink.

After passing through the commissary
and heading toward the school rooms, it
became apparent that no great insights
into prison conditions would be gained
by the tour alone.

We waited outside of the "school
house" as the inmates, carrying their
spelling and reading books, filed out into
the yard.

As the tour continued into the
building, I saw a prisoner standing in a
nearby doorway. I noticed that the rear
guard was busily talking to one of the
students, so I took the opportunity to
walk over and talk to the prisoner about
conditions within the State Pen.

Just as I reached the doorway
however, the guard spotted me and
rushed over to us and said, "Let's move
along right NOW, Suh."

As we entered the electric chair room,
most of the students were surprised to
find a twelve seat gallery from which the
executions could be witnessed. The guard
happily told us that he had received
permission to watch the execution of a
man convicted of killing a Norfolk
policeman several years ago.

After visiting the prison chapel, the
group moved to the end of the tour in a
room filled with display cases containing
samples of the old ball and chain, the
prison stripe uniforms (they now wear
khaki) and several other samples from the
past. Also in the case was an operational
gun which a prisoner had made in the
machine shop.

The group split into two, parts and
asked questions of the guards.

Mr. Hirschkop's Senate testimony also
revealed that a prisoner, Mr. Robert
Landman, "one of the best writ writers in
the country," is in a maximum security
block simply because he is a writ writer
and he was aiding the other prisoners in
writing letters to the courts.

"Mr. Landman is an agitator," replied
the guard when we asked about him.

"You mean he is physically violent?"

"Oh no, Mr. Landman would have
nothing to do with that."

"Does he encourage the other prisoners
to use physical violence?"

"Suh, I just told you, he wouldn't
have anything to do with no violence."

"Well, how then do you consider him
to be an agitator?"

"Mr. Landman wants to be a leader
and he wants the rest of the men to
follow him."

"And you're afraid that if this group
forms there may be trouble?"

"It's really not that. Mr. Landman
would never allow them to start any
trouble, but he goes around telling the
men what we can and can't do and this
causes problems with the men."

"So Mr. Landman is in the maximum
security block because he advises the
other prisoners of their rights. Isn't that
so?"

"We know how it is when all the men
look to one man. We know how it can
lead to trouble."

The rest of the group had left. What
had started out as two guards talking to a
group of students had become myself and
one other student arguing with nine
guards. My questions obviously weren't
pleasing them at all.

We asked about the problem with
homosexuality in the prison.

"Sure we have a big problem with it in
here. But it's not as bad as some people
tell you. Hell, you probably have a lot of
queers down at that all-boys school you
go to."

All the guards laughed. We decided it
was time to leave.