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Correctional Corruption

Posted by Rage in the new Political Prisoner Blog:

One of my names is Robert James Bartlett, and my Maine Department of Corrections number is 32270. I’m currently incarcerated at the Windham Maine Correctional Center, doing 17 months for violating probation on a conviction of OUI which occurred in 2004. I suffer from a mental illness, addiction and residuals from a traumatic brain injury. Here’s my groove on Corrections in the State of Maine:

While Incarcerated at Kennebec County Correctional Facility in January of 2009, I pulled one of my best friends from a shower where he hadcommitted suicide by hanging. Arthur Brian Traweek was a co-founder of the Holistic Recovery Project, and suffered from a mental illness. We were both successful graduates of the Kennebec county Co-Occurring Disorders Court Program.

Brian was only serving a 6 month sentence, but he’d been threatening suicide since his incarceration in November. While hanging from a sheet in the shower, an officer, Herreva went through our block for a check and actuallyopened the door to the shower room & seemed to look inside. (Apparently not.) After we pulled Brian out of the shower and alerted the guards, it was perhaps 8 minutes before they began performing mouth to mouth resuscitation on Brian. Why? No one could find a “separator:” a 25 cent plastic piece which rests between a victims lips and a rescuers (to prevent infection?) When they arrived, they said that he’d had a pulse. 8 minutes. Now he’s dead.

Brian had tried to commit suicide before, but with his particular illness most successful suicides are actual accidental. Brian counted on the jail to protect him. (To read the full deposition on Brian’s wrongful death, written only hours after the tragedy – click here).

What happened? There was an official police investigation. Nothing came of it. Maine State Civil Liberties Union promised to look into it, but never did.

Carol Caruthers of NAMI did stage a vigil, a candlelight vigil for Brian, right outside our window at the jail. It was attended by people who’d never visited Brian while he was alive. Neither would any of the crowd be visiting any of us who survived. We were treated to a crowd of candle-holding strangers, drinking coffee (which we couldn’t) and smoking cigarettes (which we couldn’t.)

As a fellow inmate said: “Who are these people? Brian never got any visitors when he was alive! Coffee and cigarettes? Why don’t they strippers out there too & call it good?!”

This was while we all faced showering in the same shower my friend had just hung himself in.

I have to throw in a special shout out to Carol Caruthers, who organized the worthless vigil – oh, made the paper, though, didn’t it, Carol? Carol, the executive Director of NAMI, Maine – National Association of Mentally Ill? NAMI did nothing. NAMI didn’t give a fuck. We even asked Carol over & over again to help re-open the investigation! “Please, Carol, Please!! Help us!! Read NAMI’s own reports on those of us with mental illness & addiction, killing ourselves in jail! Help us Carol!”

Carol & NAMI do not care. But they did have that nifty candlelight vigil!

Fuck you, Carol. Fuck you, NAMI.

Brian’s dead.

How many more of us will die, Carol?

Just keep cashing your checks, love.

In the System’s defense – did they ask to become, as Sheriff Randal Liberty so aptly put it recently, “the number one provider of mental health services in Maine?” No, they did not. Jails are for what? Punishment. As Bo Lozoff says, jail is “intended to punish them, pure & simple – to punish, hurt, confuse, emasculate, and eventually break their contrary spirits.” Or, as a friend of mine from Texas said to me before my most recent arrest, “Y’all got only a little over a million people in your whole one-syllable state –  how can your prisons be over-crowded?”

Jails were never designed to treat those of us with serious mental illness or addiction, any more than they were meant to treat cancer or leprosy.

What can we do to change things?

What can you do? Please – get involved. Nothing happens from within, and I guarantee you – all of the powers that be know the truth about Brian’s death, but no one will do anything to change the status quo unless we the people demand it. Call your legislator, your governor – call Carol – at NAMI, Maine. Ask her what time it is. Join the Holistic Recovery Project at – we have a mailing list there too.

They incarcerate the mentally ill & the addicted, then they release them – untreated – back into your neighborhood.

If the powers that be lived in your neighborhood, perhaps more of us would be sent to rehabs & psychiatric hospitals. Perhaps there’d be money for those programs.

Only you can make it happen.

Please do. Because I guarantee – right now – some twenty-something is sitting in a cell & he’s coming off of opiates & his mental illness is causing him to believe that there’s only one way out.

(Rage has a blog:

– Rage

Originally posted at


I love life and everything it has to offer, but my sickness is my addictive personality and the need to constantly do something that’s existing and makes me get butterflies in my stomach.  Like carrying a gun, fighting, drugs, b&e’s, stealing or how about this:  sky diving, playing music in front of large groups of people (riot grrls and others) and the making of good music and shit.  Just a good jam session gets me feeling like that.  I don’t get embarrassed, but I love that adrenaline rush of being nervous and happy and vulnerable with music and in fronts  of people who are expecting good music to come out.  I love it.

I was a functional alcoholic.  I was drunk three years and geeked out for 2 1/2 years  for  everything.  School, work, around the house, during my gigs at parties, recordings at my house.  But I smoked about a pack a day from 9 ½ years old to about 11.  Then it was two packs average.  Until I was like 15, doing pills and large amounts of booze and speed, then it  was maybe three or four nights a week, specially when the meth came in at 18-20.  I mixed it up with adderall 30mg, and my boys  dextros (70 mg) into one big mortar andpestlel grind, ’til it was one big pile of powder.  Then I’d geek out for a week and ½ at a time, sometimes more, depending on how much meth I sold.

I’ll be fine when I get out.  I hope.

Things here are monotunis, chow, meds, chow, meds, chow, meds, bed. I box a couple days a weeks. I have yet to completely pic up jogging again. Maybe with the changing season. I love fall. Harvest time. Cooler outside. Smudged today. I love it. Beat a big drum last week, w/Jessie. Sux my Heritage has little to do with being Native to America. Maybe back when it was Pangoa. I’m english and Phillipono, ¼ to be exact. There is Indian’s tribal on that part. But it’s not American. I have been made fun of my whole life for how I look. Time to start embracing my Heritage. I’m not sub par, I’m above and beyond, anyway. I don’t fit in anywhere I guess. Good. Stealing cucumbers from our garden. To bad it’s consider stealing. Howe has done most of the work. I’m so scared of probation. I love pot to much. Sux. Hopefully, it all works out for the best.

Just cut up contraband veggie’s. Sad I have to hid out in the bathroom to do it. Like I’m shooting up or something a little Judas priest anyone. Awesome death metal, the bone, sun’s almost set. It’s 7:30, No more nite rec pretty soon. So A.A.’s been good. Couple of the guys from talk so that’s cool. So many movies I wanna see. So many times I wanna buy second hand at bull moose. Can’t wait to shop at Goodwill. Quarterroys and t-shirts. Good stuff.

“Freedom what will you make of it”

Get comfy, it’s a long one!

Hi everyone, it’s sundog coming to you from MCC Happy Camp. It’s my last blog and only twelve more days for me. My stay here is coming to an end. So I really just wanted to recall the year I spent in jail at MCC in Windham, ME.

Although it’s not a real “prison” it’s been close enough for me. You would think I would have seen more fights with eight hundred inmates. Surprisingly, fighting is at a low right now. In the past year I haven’t seen one fight. That’s right. I’ve only heard the fights. Probably around half a dozen or so. Some good but mostly just one or two hits a piece. Last summer that was a shank fight. Slice & dice. That was a little messy, lol. All in all, I have grown stronger both in my physical and emotional state of my well being. I’ve grown tolerances to different foods I’ve had to eat. The menu here is deff better than Cuny County has to offer. And there’s commisary. Thank God we still have outside food. It deff didn’t help with my wasteline but I’m still glad. Keeps the betting going and the trade offs. Some normalcy.

We had wooden doors on our four-person bedroom. It’s about 7ft x 8ft room. A desk and two bunk beds. It’s comfortable with only three. Four’s a crowd. The room’s come with lockers for all four people and Big Blue Bags to put clothes in. It works. I’ve had no complaints in this dorm. I’ve only complained about some of the shitty workers that work here. Well, maybe some even shittier roommates. I can say that the cellmates I’ve had here are just disgusting. Most of them put together would maybe make a set of teeth. You know what comes out of your infested mouth when you have all rotted teeth. Yes, bad fucking breath. Holitosis is a problem. I’ve done good. I’ve let it go except one guy. He really needed to know. You know, he was shocked, he had no idea he had ferocious breath. He also had a problem scratching himself all over until he bled.  Just plain gross. I’ve had some really interesting roommates. If you were schizophrenick you were my roommate. It was a mess if you came to MCC you had to be my roomate and share your crazy mind with me. I’ve had twenty eight ignorant cellmates. The only sane one was Mr. Anderson. He is my current roomie and is actually normal. Thank god or the great Spirit for ending  my time here with a descent guy. I’ve got stories coming at my ears about what I’ve gone through in the year I’ve been here. First. Mr. G. Woz. Great guy. Has a drinking and driving problem like me. 2nd roomie was my good friend, “Rage.” Met him in York County. He lifted my Spirits and taught me how to make flowers. He will be one of two good people I keep in contact with. Great guy.

Then we had the horrible experience in Dorm 3 where everyone hated me and made my life miserable. That only lasted for two months. Long enough. I wish bad things to those who went out of their way to make me uncomfortable. RIP Dorm 3. I won’t be back. Dorm 3 actually had the best showers here on the compound. Nice & Private. Next in line was your first Schizo Mr. Wade (I had sex with my daughter in-law) McAlpine. Remember he was the one with eight feet of hair? Blah, talk about gross. Send Schizo was Larry Rollins. He was a complete mess who couldn’t stay out of his own way. Good luck with the lawsuit Larry. I didn’t like you but you have a good case. I’ve had the priveledge of having a belimick kid in my room. Actually taught me to like myself again. I could have been worse. I could have an eating disorder like him. I feel bad for him and the life he has to deal with on a daily basis. Next group of soldiers I had the great pleasure of meeting was A. Walsh, Z. Clark, and G. Lemire. They put me in with a bunch of pillheads. They were posterboard pillheads. No thanks. I didn’t do any. Only two schizo’s in that one. The other one had a tattoo on his face. Although I’m a huge fan of tattoos I don’t think the face is the perfect place. Yuck! Second group after that, was psycho Archie Maloon and bigot Roman Mank. I was in a bad room with even worse roomies. One day I came home from work to find a “Hate Faggots” waiting for me on the desk from the Lonely Loser. Roman Bigot Mank. Had you both left life with Anderson is awesome. What a class act. Something you know nothing about. To Ernie Androse, Joe Tripp and Joel Cashing, you’re a bunch of Skinners and I hope nothing good ever goes your way! Thanks for calling me faggot and to Ernie who wanted to beat my ass because I was clean. Pusshead.

I wish all of my roomates Karma. What comes around, goes around. Be ready for your horrible lives. Xoxo – muah – from yours truly.

Now onto the staff. The MCC fans will not be pleased but I could care less. Obviously I will not be bustling the nice ones. To the bad COs, you just suck!! Only Kitchen COs Dawn, Rob and Sloan and Tom: You Rock. Thank you for everything. Thank you for treating me like a normal friend. MUAH. Also, two thumbs up was Ms. Rose. My fav. You rock girl. Love that strength. Next who gets an honorable mention definitely McCloud and Liibby. You’re good at your jobs too. Good luck. To the best nurse ever Elaine – great good at what you do too! To the best med nurse – LINDA. Thank you for being great at your job as well! I still miss Bevan. To Debbie, you’re cool too. To everyone else, find a different job because you’re useless. Bigots should not be allowed to work here. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Crawl back under the rocks you came from. I deff wish you the most bad luck. Names will not make this list because of retaliations. Just know that there’s a long ass list.

To all the wonderful Authors. I have enjoyed reading your books. Maine squeeze by Catherine Clark. Sharing  Sam by Katherine Applegate. All my love to Ms. Chelsea Handler. Thanks for the laughs. You rock. James Patterson also left his mark in me.. Will Cross ever make time with his family? Will Kyle Craig ever get caught? Every time I read a book I expected it to happen and it’s always been continued. To my all time favorite Stephanie Meyer. I love you and the series. MUAH. A weird read “The Man who Ate the 747” by Ben Sherwood. He really did eat a plane (for love). John Grisham. Can’t go wrong with him. Thank you for making me a real love for books person.

Thank you to the Native American Program. I’ve learned so much. And met a couple cool dudes. Thank you for the sweat lodge and all the visitors. AHO. Special thanks too Sister Maryann, you’re an angel. She chooses to work with inmates every day. Great gal. Great job.

To: Mr. Merrill, thanks for nothing. You made my stay here a litlte worse too. Ba-BYE!

Yes, I have learned my lesson for drinking & driving. Never again. I’m sorry I put you through this mom. I love you and I’ll be home very soon!

A great big yummy THANK YOU to all my penpals who have written me.


Love you, see you on the outs,


– Sundog

Raymond Munson
MDOC# 83366

Being that I seem always to be on the market for a future ex-Mrs. Wire, I thought I would share with the world hte contents of a letter. This letter would be the letter I would love to send to the Mrs., show she could fuckin’ understand that I have nothing to worry about because “I have a place to live and three meals a day”! Hello!

Dear Barb –

I must admit I was a bit taken back by that six page scream fest you called a letter. I am so fucking sorry that I did not understand the extent of the misery that is your life in the free world. Upon considerable reflection I was out of fucking place to suggest that you have a lot of positive things happening in your life! I should have known that your high paying job could not be close to as rewarding as a job here for sixty cents an hour. What was I ever thinking when I suggested you had a pretty good car? You are right; walking in the driving rain or snow without weather gear has to be better than driving. Stupid me! Again, I had no fucking clue our nice little apartment is so bad now. Dorm living with smelly old men as to be so much Better. You know, it must be awful to have all that money to blow on drugs, booze & smokes, whenever you want. I never should have complained about the meds I get even though they don’t come close to touching my pain. It has to be a struggle for you to be able to order out food night after night. You are right; I should be happy to pay up to 16hrs of my pay to get a decent meal from Commissary. Well, Babe, I should end it here so I can lock my self down so some ass can count me. It must be difficult for you to self-impose when you come & go!

– Love, Bob (the Husband you no longer want anything to do with)

– Bob Wire
MDOC# not provided

Hey, I heard that Ken Topel, the head nurse over in Dorm 4 is responsible for negligence leading to teh death by pneumonia of old man Spenser down in Dorm 6. Is this true? If it is would anybody out there care? Why does a health care professional, someone who could work anywhere, end up here, at MCC? Even Lewiston’s better than this. Why? There’s gotta be a few corpses back there, right Topel? When you got hired here & you told your boyfriend, didn’t he squeal: “Praise God, Ken! You got a job! Don’t they know about the ‘accidental death’?” and you said, “Baby – they don’t care!”

I hope I don’t catch a cold!

I love you, Meriki! Always!

– Art Vandelay
MDOC# xxxxxx not provided

This is X-Ray again coming to you from this shit hole called Maine Correctional Center. MCC for short.

I’m having a weird day. I’ve been upset since lunch and really just can’t wait for this day to go away. Fuckin’ Don Jacobson is being his usually prick self. I guess if I had to marry one of the scary bitches, I might be crazy too. He is a piece of work. He’s redheaded with a mole on his face. Hot, huh? I’m hoping my days of answering will come to an end soon. RIP D. Jacobson. Fuckhead.

So, yesterday I started pressing flowers and someone had the gall to say something like it was fuckin’ Biz somehow.

I’m really having one of these hate jail and stupid people kind of day, blah!

The only thing I guess is remotely positive is that I have a crush on a certain Mr. Moony. I think we will be in love by the time I leave this hole.

Feb 1st Bitches! Can’t wait. I do know that I have learned my lesson of drinking and driving.

Although I will not be D&D again it makes me wonder why I did it in the first place. Here I’m treated like a criminal next to murderers and skinners aka Sex Offenders aka Sick Bastards. They actually get paid to be in dorms one and two. It’s fucked up. I’m sick to death at looking at them. They definitely should have their own prison. There’s 800 hundred inmates and three hundred and twenty five are “touchers,” “serial rapists” — it’s just not right they get jobs before regular inmates! REALLY!

And how the hell does the guys “the half of the population” get away with being soboxin high? I mean it is none of my biz but some assholes like to fuck with me and I’m very passive except today. LOL. Their eyes are huge. I can tell when a guy is high, how come the trained professionals can’t? Fuck, do your job! They think they’re invisible. WTF. Get a life, instead of making Jail your hobby. Some guys only last weeks before they’re back in here for even longer sentences. Crazy. Crazy. Crazy. I will not be on that list. I fucking can’t stand people who get off doing their grandmother’s prescriptions. Ridiculous. I won’t be a statistic damnit. I will behave. And make the right choices.

Well, have I bitched enough yet? I think so. Thanks for letting me vent. Hope everyone stays safe and has a great day, week, month, fuckin’ year. LOL.

‘Till next time,

~ MUAH ~

– X-Ray

P.S. Hi Cutie-Butt Moony! Write me! xoxoxo
I actually feel better for venting. Hope it lasts. Hahahahahah. XD

I hurt someone I really care about, that’s why I’m here. I’ll be out in November, probably headed to Augusta, but I’m not sure. I’m active in the Native American spirituality group her, but I don’t have anyone on the outside. All of my stuff is at a girlfriend’s who, since I came here, has asked me not to write her, so I don’t know. Since I’m going to Augusta, I thought maybe the Holistic Organization would help me. But someone else told me they never write people. I have the number of the heartline. Could someone in the project get back to me? Thanks.

– Raymond Fields
MDOC# 102440
17 Mallison Falls Rd
Windham, ME 04062

There’s a problem here in dorm 5 & its twofold – scables and at least three cases of mersa, masquerading as staph infections that won’t heal. And my eyes killing me. Is it mersa? I don’t know.

Okay then. No poem today. Down with obama and the pelosi bitch.

– Anonymous

As an amateur writer and storyteller I often start my writings with a cute, humorous or even dramatic beginning in the hopes it might catch the readers attention. This is commonly referred to as a “hook”. As an inmate at the Maine Correctional Center (MCC) in Windham, I will skip the fucking hook and get right to the point. The point is: that, in this day and age, inmates at MCC are regularly and openly abused! That’s right, I said abused.

On any given day in which the waters pour down from the heavens in buckets, inmates often have to choose between meals, medication, recreation and a host of other things and a “good-old fashion” soaking.

You see, inmates at MCC are not allowed any protective rain gear (not even an altered trash bag). This fact is not likely known by the general public (who wouldn’t give a shit anyway), but it is certainly known by the State of Maine Department of Corrections (DOC). Also not well known is this: the vast majority of inmates (700 or so) have to move from building to building for chow, meds, dental, rec, visits and more. In the case of meds inmates often have to stand in line outside in the driving rain. To make matters worse, inmates are not allowed to run, but must walk. HELLO! IT’S 2010 FOLKS!

It is simply not acceptable that in this day and age that even “low-life” criminals can be abused this way; and though most inmates have less than 600-800 feet between buildings, they can be outside a dozen or more times a day.

All across our nation people are in places like this (prison) for abuse of others, children, adults and the elderly.

Here at MCC, abuse is State Sanctioned and has been for years. No one should have to choose between a meal or getting drenched with no way to dry one’s clothes. No one should have to choose between getting their meds and standing in a  god-damned line in the driving rain or fucking snow storm.

Let me end with this: if this fucking place were a nursing home and the patients were treated like the inmates here are, the place would be shut down by the State in a heart-beat and the operators would be sitting in prison for abuse! It is a good thing for the State that this place is just filled with “low-life” criminals.

– Bob-Wire
MDOC# 04666

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Political Prisoners

Welcome to the blog from inmates of Maine's jails and prisons.

In collaboration with the Holistic Recovery Project, the Political Prisoners Blog provides a prisoner's view into what's happening at Maine's correctional facilities.

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