Pubdate: Tue, 17 Aug 2004 Source: Birmingham News, The (AL) Copyright: 2004 The Birmingham News Contact: http://al.com/birminghamnews/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/45 Author: Carla Crowder Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/prison.htm (Incarceration) RILEY VISITS 4 PRISONS ON TOUR Governor's Gravest Concern Remains The Number Of Inmates Per Corrections Officer WETUMPKA - It was likely the only time in his troubled life he'd meet a dignitary, and prisoner Clarence Purnell had spaghetti sauce all over his hand as Gov. Bob Riley reached for a handshake. Alabama doesn't buy napkins for convicts, so Purnell wiped his hand on his white pants, and proceeded to answer the governor's questions with only minor profanity. "This is a dog and pony show," Purnell told the governor. Yet Riley stuck around a few more minutes in Draper's dining hall. He ate prison spaghetti with a plastic prison spoon and seemed to convince several men, maybe even Purnell, that he was genuinely interested in their grim situations. This suppertime stop at Draper Prison was one of four prison visits for Riley on Monday, part of his ongoing tour of Alabama's prison system. All afternoon, in typical Riley fashion, he shook dozens of hands, slapped folks on the back and leaned in to listen to convicts' concerns as if they were the most important people on earth. He asked prisoners about their children, their jobs, their drug habits. He loosened his tie, sweated through his light-blue shirt and thanked employees for their dedication in such harsh places. "We've got to do something about the number of inmates," Riley said at the end of the day. "Until you walk through it, you really don't understand what the facilities are like." One suggestion he offered was more community corrections drug treatment centers. "There's no need to bring them down here and incarcerate them when you can incarcerate them and treat them at local facilities for a much lower rate," Riley said. His gravest concern remains the number of inmates per corrections officer. At Staton Prison, Riley climbed onto a platform to look across a sea of beds and bodies packed into a windowless sheetmetal building that used to be a canning factory. Before additional fans were recently installed, "It was like a sauna," said Staton Warden Willie Thomas. Currently, 356 men are double-bunked there, at times with only one officer watching. "The question that I've got, if something did break out, what do you do?" Riley asked Corrections Commissioner Donal Campbell. "The officers leave. That's the safest thing to do," Campbell said. In all, Riley spent more than four hours touring Tutwiler, Draper, Staton and Elmore prisons, all in Elmore County. Last week he visited Donaldson Prison and the Birmingham Work Release Center. "Tell me about it. What's it like in prison?" Riley asked Draper inmate Anthony Reed. "Horrible," Reed said. But Reed could not name any specific things the state could do to make Draper better, so they talked about his children for a little while. "He seemed to be a pretty nice guy," Reed said later. "Seemed like he was really listening." Riley was especially interested in drug treatment at Draper, surveying the men about what drugs doomed them to prison. All of them, sitting in a circle on red plastic chairs, raised their hands for alcohol. He left them with advice he heard when a family member was addicted: "I'm not saying you can't get off drugs without a spiritual experience, but I've never seen it happen." Riley saved his kindest words for a handful of prisoners in Staton's hobby shop, where well-behaved inmates work with leather and wood, and paint. They make intricate miniature houses and ships. "Anybody that can do that does not need to be here," Riley told inmate Dennis Capps, who makes tiny houses from cedar. Capps was nervous, but proud. He licked his lips and cleared his throat a lot. Riley told Capps about an old hunting cabin, and asked if he could make a reproduction. One of Riley's assistant's jotted the prisoner's name down. Capps beamed. "He's supposed to send me a picture of the cabin, so I can make it." In the cramped, dimly lit medical unit at Tutwiler Prison for Women, Riley learned that about 310 of the 750 Tutwiler inmates are in treatment for mental health problems. Riley said that compared to some other prisons he's visited, Tutwiler did not appear crowded. "It's clean. It's neat. I think they're doing an exceptional job with the staff that they have," he said. A 2002 federal lawsuit, settled earlier this summer, forced the state to reduce Tutwiler's population and improve medical treatment and conditions there. Summer is especially unkind throughout Alabama's unairconditioned prisons. And there is no respite in sight for the 23,600 inmates packed in space for 12,400. Temperatures at times rise into the 90s. Campbell, who was constantly wiping the sweat off his face as he walked through the prisons, said the heat has run employees off. "In order to retain employees, we need a decent work environment," he said. At least for some inmates, Riley's visit was a breath of fresh air. Inmate Brenda Wilder, who just arrived at Tutwiler Monday, grinned ear to ear as the governor walked passed. "Awesome," she said. "He's a handsome man ... I never would have met the governor anywhere else." - --- MAP posted-by: Larry Seguin