Solitary: Unbroken by Four Decades in Solitary Confinement

by Albert Woodfox

Hilton Butler, the former captain who had gassed us repeatedly in the seventies, was the warden of Angola at that time. He was now forced to grant us contact visits. CCR had never had them before; now CCR prisoners were allowed to have one contact visit a month. The contact visit was completely different from sitting behind a steel mesh screen. We were taken to an open room with tables and chairs. They removed our handcuffs and leg irons. My first contact visit in 15 years was around Christmas that year. My mom came with my brother Michael, my sister Violetta, and her oldest daughter, Nelyauna. There was no natural flow at first. I didn’t feel comfortable. I had forgotten what it felt like to be physically close to people. I was used to talking with the partition between us. There was no hugging with the screen between you and a visitor. You couldn’t even really see the eyes of the person across from you clearly. It was a strain for me to stay within the flow of my first contact visit. When my mom put her hand on my leg it brought back a flood of memories. I became a kid again. I had to fight off crying. When they were getting ready to leave I had an intense wave of longing that went through me, a desire to leave with them. Everyone started to hug me and I didn’t know what to do. I’d always been able to kiss my mom through the screen, touch fingers with Michael and everybody, but hugging, for the first time in 15 years, was totally foreign to me. (Later, King would say he ...