Rec Room Fight (by Guest Blogger Big Jason)

Big Jason was incarcerated as a youth in Sheriff Joe Arpaio’s Durango jail and the Arizona Department of Corrections Adobe Mountain juvenile facility for assault, attempted burglary, and violation of probation.

Lance was a giant “corn-fed” white guy that didn't fit in anywhere, at least not anywhere in the correctional system. He stood about 6 feet 5, and kind of resembled the cartoon character Big Baby Huey, bulbous and round, uncoordinated and childlike. No matter how hard he tried, he never seemed to get along. Not for lack of honest intent, he was just annoying in general and in a prison setting with kids pining to be the next Spartacus, it was bound to cause problems

Watching television in the recreation room meant having to sit on cockroach-infested couches that stunk from years of inmates’ dirty feet and smelly asses. Some of us had gathered around for a boring day of the same old humdrum, which usually meant watching something that we had seen over and over and in this case the film ”La Bamba”. Between my incarceration in Durango and Adobe Mountain, I must have seen that movie nine times, allowing myself to learn to do the characters. Bob played by Esai Morales was my favorite impersonation.

Bored with the TV, Albert, a Hispanic gang member from East Side LCM, found a way to break the monotony. He chucked the broom he was holding at Lance's gigantic head. Boink! The broom hit with accuracy, thudded off the back of his head, and dropped to the floor in front of my feet. The couches were set up in four rows in front of the TV, and when Lance turned around to see who had done something, I became his target of retribution. He scowled, showing an extra set of incisors that would jade even the most deviant tooth fetishists. Albert and his friends were laughing as they always did when picking on Lance, and this aggravated him even more. With a angry rush, he jumped up, moved to the side of the couches, and unleashed a verbal tirade. Kids from various ethnic and economic backgrounds scattered about, some just getting out of harms way, others to instigate and jeer. This alerted the officer, who called for rec time to end.

As I moved into the hall area, Lance came up and shoved me as if to prove he was no punk. I was no little guy at six foot, 200 lbs. His push moved me a good foot. I told him to chill, and that I hadn't done anything to him, but he remained in a rage that turned his forehead a reddish hue. He stepped to me again, this time getting punched in the process. My first jab hit his head. I went to follow up with a second, but missed as he was stumbling back from the first blow. Feeling like an idiot for missing with the second punch, I wasted no time posturing and went to work with some pugilistic skills that would help to solidify my reputation as “Not to be fucked with.” Lance started swinging wildly with looping punches that missed. Bam-bam! I hit him two more times with a force that sent him reeling over to avoid more damage. The final punch came in an uppercut that he couldn't hide from no matter how far his tall frame leaned forward. The impact sent his head right back up to reveal a split from his lip to nose that required stitches. All of this happened in about five seconds, and was over almost as soon as it had started. I backed away amidst cheering and taunting from inmates who were hyped over the blood sport. My blood pressure high and adrenaline flowing from what had just happened, I regained some composure and relaxed as much as I could. The lone officer, flustered, yelled at us to break it up and get locked down. We complied and followed the fluorescent lit corridors to our cells.

I was now facing extra charges that could end up with me being held accountable after I became an adult, depending on how long they waited to file the charges. I've seen some guys turn 18 and leave Adobe Mountain in handcuffs only to get into a sheriffs car for their trip to county jail and life as adult felons. I hoped like hell this wouldn't be my future. After a review of what happened and a 24 hour lock-down, I received no charges, but a loss of privileges, and a cell to myself as they felt I was becoming more dangerous to other inmates – stemming from other situations where my cell-mates ended up on the receiving end. But they are other stories…

Click here for the previous guest blog by Big Jason