University of Virginia Library

Local Jails: A Few Cents Per Meal And A Century Of Neglect

By MARGARET ALFORD

The degree to which a
society is civilized can be
judged by entering its prisons.

Dostoevsky

The inhumanity of the
nation's prison system is a
matter of public record by
now. New and shocking
accounts of prisoners'
degrading living conditions
surface dally, Indicating that
inmates often are treated
behind bars more as animals
than men.

Ironically, the chief
perpetrators of this public
disgrace are those who should
be most concerned about it:
public officials. Whether
through an emphasis on
punishment rather than
rehabilitation, or merely
through neglect, prisoners are
incarcerated in superannuated
jails by the thousands, with
dim hopes of returning to a
normal community life after
they have paid their debt to
society.

The Charlottesville City and
Albemarle County jails are just
a microcosm of the state and
national embarrassment.

Like other penal
institutions throughout the
country, the local jails are a
grievous travesty that only
seem to intensify and
compound the problems they
profess to correct.

Lack Of Sufficient Concern

Like their larger
counterparts, the jails house
substandard living
conditions, and they are
inadequately staffed and
maintained. Nor is there
sufficient concern from local
government to improve the
conditions or to orient the
system toward rehabilitation
rather than incarceration.

Both local jails were built as
short-term facilities, from
which prisoners would be
transferred to the state
penitentiary in Richmond for
longer stays. Though
Charlottesville and Albemarle
courts are not backed up with
cases, lengthy litigation and
appeal procedures mean that
inmates are confined in the
decrepit city and county jails
for months on end.

Confinement in the ancient
county jail is not healthy
punishment, but torturous
monotony which serves no
value.

Ancient County Facility

Enclosed by a fortress-like
brick wall, the county jail is
located on Fourth and East
High Sts., not far from Park St.
Comprised of two brick
buildings, the elder of which is
137 years old, the jail contains
about 15 prisoners at any given
time. Approximately 1000
inmates stay in the county jail
during a year.

Since the county jail's
construction over a century
ago, its only physical
improvements have been
installation of 60-watt
light bulbs and bathroom
facilities.

Four dimly lit eight by 14
foot cells on the first floor
hold two men each. Upstairs,
two bullpens, each twice the
size of one downstairs cell,
hold about five or six men at

ideal capacity. Last week,
however, eight men were
confined in one hullpen.

The paint on the rough
concrete walls is yellowed and
cracking. Prisoners peer
through windows with bars
spaced nearly close enough to
form a solid wall. These few
barred windows provide the
only glimpse of the outside
world.

Temperature control is a
problem in the cells. The
county jail's thick stone walls
absorb winter cold and summer
heat. Overactive radiators in
winter make the inside
uncomfortably hot and stale.
At least partially due to the
peephole windows, prisoners
must also bear stifling heat and
poor ventilation in summer.

Water Poured On Cereal

Meals are yet another
county jail inadequacy. A usual
breakfast at the county jail
consists of dry cereal; until
recently, no bottled milk was
used and the prisoner poured
water on cereal sprinkled with
evaporated milk. Lunch is
normally a bologna sandwich
or two. "The bologna looks
painted on," said Offender Aid
and Restoration (OAR)
program Asst. Directer Steve
Rosenfield. He said that
cabbage, beans and bread
comprise a usual supper.

That these are average meals
for county prisoners is not
surprising, considering the
county budget allotments for
jail food. The county's 1973
recommended food
appropriation is $5,000, or
about 22 cents per prisoner
meal. This year's budget
allotment is down $1,300 from
the 1971 appropriation.

Albemarle County Sheriff
George L. Bailey discounted
this year's lower food budget
with the explanation that
fewer prisoners stay in the jail
now, but he did not give
specific figures.

Meals Feed Impatience

The food is not prepared by
a full-time cook, either. Mrs.
Lewis Dunn, wife of the
county jailer, prepares the
meals. Mr. Rosenfield said,
however, "It's not her fault
that they (the meals) aren't
better– what can you do with
22 cents per prisoner?"

Apparently, county jail
inmates have become fed up
with the poor meals, because
last week they began a hunger
strike to protest the poor food.
Guards quickly squelched the
protest, though, threatening
parole delays or unspecified
marks against the inmates'
prison records.

Goodbye To Fresh Air

Even though space for
outdoor activity exists at both
jails, the monotony of jail
existence is not broken by any
outdoor exercise. When a
person enters either the county
or city jail, he can say goodbye
to fresh air until he is released
or taken to court, because no
outdoor activity is permitted at
either jail. At the county jail, a
wide paved space between the
jail building and the
surrounding wall would
provide an ideal exercise area.
But both jails lack outer guard
towers and adequate fencing

required by the state for
exercise yards.

With a lack of recreation,
prisoners become pallid and
bored. Sheriff Bailey said,
however, that the jail is "clean
and adequate," and that "these
men are in there for
punishment. They're just losing
their freedom for awhile, not
being able to do as they
please."

He brushed off any
questions on prisoner
dissatisfaction. "I have no
problems with complaints
about the jail from prisoners,"
he said recently. "I inspect it
every week and a state prisons
inspector sees it every month.
There are no gripes about it or
about the food."

He even said he had been
invited to eat meals at the jail,
but had excused himself since
he "really didn't have time."

There are indications to the
contrary, though, that all
might not be well at the jail.

Interestingly enough, women
and juveniles almost never
receive county jail sentences,
an anonymous source pointed
out, "possibly because the
judge knows how bad things
are down there." As a general
rule, juveniles are sent to a
detention home in Staunton
rather than being held here.

One prominent local official
who wished to remain
anonymous recently charged
Mr. Bailey with neglect. "He
wouldn't know the way to the
county jail if he tried to go
there. He is just a politician
who is trying to save face, and
actually knows next to nothing
about what is going on down
there."

Mr. Bailey does not seem
concerned with the actual
persons involved in his job.
Though he claimed that he was
"protecting" his prisoners, he
would not allow any inmate to
talk to the press recently unless
reporters were specifically
requested by the inmate with
approval from a lawyer and the
county court.

The same request of
Albemarle County Court Judge
David F. Berry brought a flat
no, even with stipulations that
prisoners' names would not be
used and that their cases would
not be discussed.

"No Legitimate Complaints"

When questioned about
deficiencies in his jail, Mr.
Bailey smoothly went to his
file and removed a letter from
a state official concerning a
recent ail inspection. The
letter claimed that prisoners
had "no legitimate complaints"
and that the inspector found
"cobwebs near a window" the
only problem.

"No legitimate complaints"
would seem a bit indefinite,
coming from a state official.

The state prison system
itself has been embroiled in
controversy recently. Last
week, U.S. District Court
Judge Robert R. Merhige Jr.
fined state Department of
Corrections director W.K.
Cunningham $21,000 for
mistreatment of inmates.

Nothing so dramatic has
ever surfaced in Charlottesville
or Albemarle, but in other
Virginia localities, jail officials
have been reprimanded or
fined for lack of prisoner care.

The local jails, too, are
apparently free of guard
brutality and, due to prisoners'
relatively short stays,
homosexuality; both are
problems which have plagued
prisons nationally.

However, less extreme but
ever-present problems hamper
effective prisoner
rehabilitation and discipline.

The city jail suffers from
less drastic conditions than the
county jail, partially because of
its more recent construction.
The 35-year old jail lies west of
Vinegar Hill In a bleak area on
Brown St., surrounded by
garbage trucks and an
equipment maintenance yard.
About 1800 people are held at
the jail per year, an average of
40 at a time.

No major improvements
have ever been made on the
city jail, either, although "we
have asked for money to
improve the outer security so
people could go outside," City
Sheriff Raymond C. Pace said.

Last week the city
surprisingly agreed to install
better lighting in the cells,
making the gray-walled cells
slightly brighter.

Juveniles Confined

In the city jail, misdemeanor
offenders are held in one of
two bullpens, each containing
showers, sinks and toilets. Each
bullpen has a capacity of 20
prisoners, although only nine
to 12 men are usually confined
in each.

Felons are locked into one
of five smaller cells, two men
per cell, each of which contains
one sink and a toilet. Women
have solitary cells with the
same plumbing and little
privacy.

Several juveniles are kept in
a cell, and are allowed out of
the cell only once per week, to
take a shower. All other
inmates are allowed into the
corridors outside their cells
during the day.

One "strip" cell, vacant
except for a toilet, is used for
drunks and uncontrollable
prisoners.

Monotony eeds Violence

One of the main problems at
the city jail, though it exists
also in the county, is a lack of
prisoner recreation, which
leads to endless boredom.

City prisoners "get up, eat,
clean their cells and then sit
around the rest of the day
playing checkers or talking
about women, or how nice it
would be to be in the outside
world," Sheriff Pace said.

And going to bed at night is
just knowing that waking up
the next day will be more of
the same routine.

The monotony of such jail
existence occasionally erupts
into violence. Two
disturbances occurred in the
city jail in November that no
one ever heard about, a jail
source said. Prisoners broke
windows and demanded to talk
to the press and to Asst. City
Manager H. Bern Ewert about
their complaints on jail
conditions.

City Makes Promises

The request to talk to the
press was denied, but Mr.
Ewert, who Mr. Rosenfield
described as having "a
reputation for making promises
to inmates and keeping them,"
later said that city officials
would take steps to relieve the
conditions at the jail.

"Our jail isn't beautiful, but
it's clean," Mr. Ewert asserted
in December.

Little has actually been
effected other than the lighting
installation. But Mr. Ewert said
he plans to conduct an
inventory of prisoners medical
needs according to their length
of stay, in order to develop
better health care.

A local high school
nutritionist will also review the
jail's menu, he said, and "we're
going to organize guidelines to
give the prisoner so that he
knows what to expect."

Food "Fit For A Dog"

Mr. Ewert also indicated
that the city would install
shower curtains and possibly
extend visiting hours, which
are now only 15 minutes per
week. He added that mail
censorship would be relieved.

Food is not a source of
great discontent at the city jail.
The 1973 city budget allows
$22,000 for jail food, about 67
cents per prisoner meal, which
is about three times the
county's allotment. Meals are
generally described as edible
and adequate at the city jail,
but one inmate described them
as "fit for a dog."

Mr. Pace brushes this
aside: "You could give some
people a T-bone steak every
day and they still wouldn't be
happy."

He is not cold-hearted
toward his prisoners, however.
"If a man seems to be doing
well, I'll grant him one
weekend a month with his
wife," he said.

"But some, if you give them
one, they want two, and so on.