I was at Koncentration Kamp Red Onion State Prison on May 19, 2019 in C-312. Around 9am+ish When the cops, Counselors, Shrinks were all acting funny. Coming by the Cell door, saying hey Sporty, hey Thorpe you okay. Was it weird behavior of course it was, because the ones who were all of a sudden talking were the ones who knew that I never had much to say to 'em, because they weren't right. Minutes later I think it was either the Unit Manager or one of the Counselors who came with a phone saying I should call my Wife, man were things getting all stranger days, anyway as soon she comes on she's, crying. So now I'm braced, then she tells me that my mom's passed, early that night. Man people, I ended up consoling, comforting her, of course I chuckle remembering. People this might sound off, but I really didn't focus on the fact that my Mother, Mary Mildred, who I think passed either at 90 or 89, had passed till years later here in Texas. I know that there are all sorts of psychological musings on it. Now here is the other part that inextricably links my Moms passing to Virginia exiling me to Texas, because ten days later on May 29,2019 around 6.30 am a Lieutenant, 2 Sergeants and 5 regular guards came to the door telling me that I was going on transportation and I won't be taking my property. So after processing me for transportation, they drove me to the Airport of the area. I think its called Lonesome Pines or something. Before I move on to what I wanna talk about, which is my Mother. Here is a prison anecdote for you. So when the cops came to the door talking that transportation talk I was on the toilet. The lieutenant kept his face in the glass the whole time watching me use toilet paper, watched me wash my hands and all that, then I still had to stand in the middle of the cell, lift my penis, testicles, turn around squat, show the soles of my feet, in other words the whole 9 of their strip search procedure and all of this is after he had watched me using the toilet. When they took me to transportation processing I had to go through the process, I mean the same process all over again. I won't bore you with how Red Onion placed handcuffs on me so tight that the escorting Marshalls on the Plane with me had to loosen 'em up just so I could snack on some trailmix e.t.c. Anyway, now let's get into what I want to share about my Mother. I begin with I didn't really appreciate my Mother till I had been in prison for quite a bit. What I mean by appreciate is simply this, when I was in the world with her, all she was, was my moms, an authority figure, who through my pre and adolescence, despite the fact she wasn't much of a talker, what she did say went in one ear and out the other, come on man she's Moms who listens to moms during adolescence however what I will say is I respected her and in my own way, I valued her. Here is a story, I think I was around 7 or 8 and she had baked one of my favs, Brownies and I just couldn't wait, so I stuffed my face and when she quizzed me, I lied, yup, then she told me to open my mouth, which I did and of course it was a crime scene, yup all chocolatey and my Mother in a calm voice told me not to ever lie to her again and people, I never did. The couple of times I saw my moms cry were the assassinations of Pres. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. My critique of my Moms is simply this: A Black Woman whose life experience occurred post the 1400's.
By William Thorpe
I'm William Thorpe Virginia exiled me to the Texas prison system. I'm solitary confined at the Wainwright Unit and if you feel any kinda way about this work contact me by Securus email using the Texas prison number #2261982
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