bad jail 2

This week my partner and I learned the true joy of bothering people at night. Having gone to many houses multiple times during the day and having no luck catching up with the inhabitants, we decided to venture out after normal work hours in hope of catching them. This was only moderately successful. When dealing with people associated with a murder case in a poor neighborhood, one can count on the fact that many potential witnesses will not be on a 'normal' schedule. Frustration has become the norm for us, but we do catch enough witnesses to keep us going. It is always that one person you did not expect to talk to who has all the information you need. This person is why I get up in the morning. It is certainly not to be cursed at and have doors slammed in my face. When it comes to uniqueness of experience I believe my internship takes the cake.

The more we visit the jail the more I come to realize just how terrible of a place it is to be held. There is no natural light, unrelieved white walls and a pervasive filth that only makes the dilapidated building more depressing. I try to convince myself that it is not so bad, or that the inmates deserve such harsh environments, but I fail. There is no reason that anyone should have to live in such a place, even if they are convicted. What is even worse is that many of the prisoners are not convicted, but merely being held pending trial. They can be held for up to a year. When I talk to my clients who are languishing in jail with no indictment and no idea of how much longer it might take, I feel terrible. It certainly makes me appreciate my freedom, but it also makes me appreciate my work. I am revitalized by the thought of getting our client's back to their families and their lives.