I remember March 6th, 2022 vividly. I woke up at 0515. I kiss my sleeping wife and daughter goodbye and leave my house at 0615. At 0645 I arrived at my workplace. The county jail. 0700, I’m inside, clocked in, writing in my log book. I alone have assumed the A and B blocks (maximum and medium security), some 100 inmates. The worst of the worst in my county that have been caught. I look over the roster of inmates for both blocks, gather my items: A and B rosters, my clipboard, my pipe (with this item you tap it on a metal circle on the wall in a block and it logs that you’ve been there), my pen, and my ceiling stick. With the ceiling stick we poke the ceiling to make sure the inmates haven’t been pushing the ceiling open to hide contraband in there.
A little side information: I am 5’7, 118lbs, I have pepper spray on my side, handcuffs right next to the pepper spray.
Normally I would be wearing my gloves (biker gloves, carbon fiber knuckles), but not today. It was Sunday, football would be on. The inmates loved watching football so they would never act up on Sundays. Almost. I jinxed myself and didn’t know it.
0703, Over the radio, I call for A-Inside Door. The door pops and echoes through the block. For the inmates that are awake, they know an officer is there. I enter Isolation and open each door one by one. Checking each lock to make sure they haven’t been stuffed with wet toilet paper to stop the door from locking. I poke the ceiling 3 or 4 times in different places. Nothing. The trouble makers were behaving. I do the rest of bottom tier, all good. Head count is good. I get those, probably fake but friendly, “good morning Ofc. Me” and “what’s going on Ofc. Me.”
I head upstairs, I tap my pipe at the end of the wall, 1/3 logged upstairs. A-205, a family friend who has pretended not to know me for my safety, clear. A-206, the funny old man and the kid who thinks he knows all of the laws, clear. A-207, the one who tried to help me today, clear. A-208. I’ve never seen this person before. He’s new. I see new inmates all the time. Looking through the glass window, he’s easily 3-4 times bigger than me. 6’5, 350 maybe. He’s staring at his light. I open the door, check the lock while staring at him. He turns to me and says “Can I-“ and then punches me. I stumble back against the railing and the, newly installed, guard wall to prevent inmates from jumping down. It’s as if I’ve shoved 2 rolls of pennies up my nose. I know I’m bleeding. I reach for my radio on my chest but he grabs my arm and starts wailing on me. 4 or 5 punches on me before I can get to my hands and knees. This doesn’t last long, he picks me up and throws me against the wall. During all of this, I’m yelling, other inmates are yelling and banging their doors to get the Administrations attention. The inmate gets more hits on me, I see blood flying through the air. I am experiencing “fight-or-flight” except I can’t run or fight in this situation because he is way bigger than me and I am very disoriented.
In the cell now, he’s still punching me non-stop. He gets me into a choke hold position on the floor. I thought he was going to kill me. I’m starting to get lightheaded, memories of my life are flooding in. The first birthday I remember, my first kiss, my first fight, marrying my wife, my daughter being born. That was it, I wasn’t leaving my daughter. Not today. I manage to elbow his thigh a couple times. This must’ve hurt him because his left arm grabbed his thigh and he used his right arm to push himself up off the floor. He’s about to lock me in here. Not happening, I stand up and run towards him but he does the exact same thing and gets 3 more hits on me. I barely feel it, adrenaline is pumping, my face is already swollen. This time, I let him close the door. I realized it was the only chance I was going to get to call for help over the radio. I call for assistance. Later, according to the other CO’s, they couldn’t understand me. It was so muffled and static-y from blood in my radio.
Standing in that cell, door locked, I look at my hands: covered in already dried blood and new blood dripping on them from my nose. I look around the cell. The concrete floor has changed from gray to a red-brown. I fall to my hands and knees into my blood. The other CO’s, my friends, have arrived. I hear muffled screams over the radio to open A-208. It pops, two CO’s (V and L to conceal names) pick me up and help me out of the cell. I look at my hands one more time; my ring. “Where’s my ring?” I say. V tells me we need to go to medical. “I’m not leaving without my ring. I need it.” L finds it on the floor in a pool of blood and slips it on my finger. We head to medical. Down the stairs, I look across the block. Worried faces on the inmates. It seemed like they actually cared. Leaving the block, my Sgt. has the inmate pinned against the wall in the shower. The inmate and I just stare at each other while walking out.
Walking down the hall, I’m leaving small pools of blood everywhere, EMS is on the way. A look at my watch and its only 0719. At medical, I’m sat in a chair. V and the nurse are stopping the bleeding in my nose, well trying to at least. My Sgt is yelling, frustrated why it’s taking the ambulance so long. Starting to get lightheaded again, my vision goes black. I went blind for at least 3 minutes before regaining blurry vision. And I didn’t pass out and my eyes weren’t swollen shut because everyone said my eyes were wide open and I was coherently answering questions. But I couldn’t see. And I thought I was going to permanently lose my vision from being hit so hard so many times. Once I regained sight, I started to nod off. My head became heavy, my eyes were shutting, the childhood memories flooding in again…I wasn’t going to pass out though. Barely audible, I slurred and asked for water. Slowly, I was able to hold my head up by myself and open my eyes again. It was extremely difficult, but I had successfully stopped myself from passing out.
EMS arrived and put me on a stretcher and wheeled me out. I called my wife on the way to the hospital.
After all this, I got no compensation. Unless you consider 2 weeks paid leave and a bunch of “I’m sorry this happened” compensation. If you’ve read this far, god damn. Thanks for reading.