Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 190

“This is my fifth time in prison. Every crime I’ve committed...

“This is my fifth time in prison. Every crime I’ve committed has come from my addiction. Best case scenario is I get out of here, rebuild my life, and join the one percent of people who have beaten a meth addiction. Worst case scenario is I become no more than what I am today. And honestly, if I mess up again, I hope it kills me. Because I don’t want to keep hurting people. I’ve cheated my kids out of normal lives. My seventeen-year-old daughter is in a home for teen moms. My twenty-one-year-old son is in jail. My eighteen-year-old daughter is doing OK. She’s got a job at FedEx and goes to college. She hates drugs and thinks the world is a good place and that nobody is out to hurt her. She wants to help me. She wants me to come live with her when I get out. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

(Federal Correctional Complex: Hazelton, West Virginia)

“I actually escaped once. I was picked up for possession of...

“I actually escaped once. I was picked up for possession of heroin and taken to the police station. They handcuffed my hands and feet, shackled me to the wall, and left me in the interrogation room with a can of soda. I ripped up the soda can until I had a thin strip of aluminum, and I wedged it into the teeth of the handcuffs so I could override the locking mechanism and pull them apart. Then I dragged the shackles for two miles to a friend’s house and borrowed a bobby pin to pick the locks on my hands and feet. I honestly didn’t think the police would care that much. It was just a bag of heroin. I thought they’d check my mom’s house and give up. Instead they sent out dogs and helicopters. My picture was all over the news. They caught me after a few hours. They weren’t very happy. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. Extremely stupid, I know. But not easy.”

(Federal Correctional Complex: Allenwood, Pennsylvania)

“I was studying landscape architecture at Penn State and dealing...

“I was studying landscape architecture at Penn State and dealing drugs on the side. At the age of twenty, I got arrested with a quarter pound of mushrooms and a pound of marijuana. I assumed my life was over at that point. I didn’t think I could bounce back from a felony charge so I pretty much gave up on everything. I started doing cocaine and heroin while I waited on my sentencing, and I’ve been an addict ever since. I’ve spent a total of fifteen years in prison for various drug charges. My last arrest was for producing Fentanyl. It’s extremely difficult to make—it’s stronger than heroin and a much more complicated molecule than meth. I only know of one other person on the east coast who figured out how to make it. There were so many laws in place to keep people from getting the materials. I had no resources and no connections but I studied organic chemistry and found a way. When I finally got caught, all they wanted to know was how I did it. That’s the problem with my addiction. I’m smart enough to get around anything. So there’s never been anything to stop me but myself.”

(Federal Correctional Complex: Allenwood, Pennsylvania)

“I’ve got a daughter out there. I’ve been gone for 23 years...

“I’ve got a daughter out there. I’ve been gone for 23 years now. It’s really hurt her. My sister told me that after graduation, when everyone else was taking photos with their family, my daughter just broke down and cried. When she visits, she tells me that she feels too guilty to start a family because I won’t be there to see it. But she’s been very successful despite me. She’s a stylist. She’s doing so well. I can’t do much in here to support her, but I try my best. I’ve ordered all the fashion magazines: Vogue, Marie Claire, Elle, Bazaar. She’s too busy to read them all, so I look through them and try to find something that might help her. I set aside anything that she might be able to use for an Instagram post. She posts pictures of me on there, but only on ‘Throwback Thursday.’ She’s not ashamed of me, but she just doesn’t want anyone to see this khaki uniform. She hates it.”

(Metropolitan Detention Center, Brooklyn)

For the next several days, I will be sharing stories of...

For the next several days, I will be sharing stories of inmates from five different federal prisons across the Northeast—including Manhattan and Brooklyn.

“My wife passed away last January. We’d been married for 62...

“My wife passed away last January. We’d been married for 62 years. You caught me at a time when I’ve been thinking a lot about love because I’m reading Shakespeare’s sonnets. The definition of love is elusive, which is why we write about it endlessly. Even Shakespeare couldn’t touch it. All the greatest love stories just seem to be about physical attraction. Romeo and Juliet didn’t know ifthey liked the same books or movies. It was just physical. After 62 years, it becomes something different entirely. My wife used to say: ‘We are one.’ And believe me, she was not the type of person to overstate something. Now that she’s gone, I realize how right she was. So much of our lives were linked. We were very physical and affectionate. But we also shared every ritual of our life. I miss her every time I leave a movie and can’t ask for her opinion. Or every time I go to a restaurant and can’t give her a taste of my chicken. I miss her most at night. We got in bed together at the same time every night.”

“Both my parents were in prison while I was growing up. I’ve...

“Both my parents were in prison while I was growing up. I’ve been in prison for 90% of my life, mainly for drugs. When I got out in 2014, there was this old lawyer in the Bronx who took an interest in me. His name was Ramon Jimenez. He’s kind of like a community activist. I don’t know why he cared so much, but he sat down with me and tried to map out my life. When I tried to start selling drugs again, Ramon came out and stood on the corner with me for three days straight. Here’s this 72 year old dude, shadowing me wherever I go, screaming at anyone who tried to walk up to me: ‘I’m calling the cops!’ I was so mad. But after three days I gave it up.”

“She’s the glue for the entire family. She plans everything,...

“She’s the glue for the entire family. She plans everything, and everything centers around bringing us together. We’re just leaving a dinner with our son that she arranged. During the holidays, she organizes all sorts of games and scavenger hunts. She even buys everyone the same pair of pajamas for Christmas morning. On one of our anniversaries, she turned our living room into a French restaurant called ‘The House of Love.’ All because our eight-year-old daughter was studying French in school.“

“I can diet for two or three days. I can eat a few salads and...

“I can diet for two or three days. I can eat a few salads and pretend like I enjoy them. But then I always have a massive relapse. I just left Checkers. Some guy handed me a coupon on the street and that was all it took. Next thing you know I’m eating two burgers and a fry. Total disaster. Only $4 though. I’ll have a salad for dinner tomorrow.”

“It’s like I’m on eggshells all the time. Nothing but stress. ...

“It’s like I’m on eggshells all the time. Nothing but stress. I get $696 a month from social security. I could get more if I pretend to be bipolar like some people I know, but they make you take medicine to get your disability benefits. I’m not going to sit around like a zombie to get extra money. When I pay my bills, I have $30 left over. I can feed myself with 59-cent cans of tuna. I tried one of those food pantries but they aren’t even worth the time. I didn’t even know that pints of milk still existed. The bus drivers in the Bronx are cool so they let me ride for free. So that’s good. I can get around. But I can’t afford for anything to go wrong. Some lady is letting me stay in her place for cheap while she lives with her daughter, so I have a place to live. But it’s rent controlled so I’m not even supposed to be there. Every time I go home it’s like four layers of doom. First I’m terrified that my key won’t work. Then I’m terrified that there’s a letter in my mailbox. Then I’m afraid that the elevator won’t work—but that’s just cause I’m a lazy fuck. And then when I finally get to my apartment, I’m afraid there’s a letter under the door. Nothing but stress. I never feel safe. Every time there’s a knock on the door, I think it’s the end.”