10 Apr 09
T-Bone v Cannonball (by T-Bone)
T-Bone - Radiating power and strength, this deeply-spiritual massively-built African American towers over most inmates. He is a prison gladiator with more stab wounds than Julius Caesar. A good man to have on your side.
I woke one morning in ’06 to a sunny day, expecting to be left alone by all of the dopies and wannabees. But in prison there are always those who take kindness for weakness and mellowness as softness. Why? Because they have messed-up thinking, to put it mildly. Shaun knows my code: don’t put your hand or mouth on another man unless you are absolutely sure. When I say mouth, I mean speaking ill about him.
I did a lot of joking with a man called Cannonball. I should have known that he was using me to promote his image of being a tough guy. He did bulldog quite a few guys out of dope, and I personally didn’t care, but when he forced a youngster to give him a blow job, it made me sick. Then he went too far, and cornered the kid into giving him his store and threatening his family with a bunch of lies.
I reacted by cussing him. He didn’t like it and went on the rampage. It was funny watching him try to motivate someone to take me on.
It didn’t work, so he came up to me and the youngster and some other guy, and said, “I heard you’re a rat.”
I was more than shocked. I was at a loss for words at that moment, so I let him take two steps back, and said, “Who’s saying that?”
He knew I had every right to smash him, but he was counting on my spirituality. He said, “I’m not telling you, period!”
Now here’s the catch, I made a choice and God knows I didn’t have to do anything. Yes, Cannonball called me something in here that’s worse than being called a punk, but I thought of the youngster standing there looking at me, wanting help. I told the youngster to go to his cell and pray. I followed Cannonball to his cell and asked him, “Who called me a rat?”
“Get outta my house!” he yelled. He had a dirty needle in his hand, and I knew he had hepatitis C.
I said, “Cannonball, there’s gonna be blood for all of the crap you’re pulling here. I’m gonna check you story out to see what’s up.”
I went to three guys (you know them, Shaun), and each one said it wasn’t me who people were talking about, so I went back to Cannonball, and said, “Who said what?”
He got mad and cussed me loud enough for several people to hear, and went to get a weapon.
I tried to let it go, but I made a choice to stand up, so I did. I went back to his cell. He wasn’t there. I came around to C pod, and he was going into Bald Headed Fred’s cell. I followed him up there, and heard him disrespecting me to BHF. I went in, and said, “You need to stop molesting the youngster.”
He said, “What’re you his daddy?” Then his cellmate, Ogre came in, and he really started to act tough.
I said, “Man, you’ve been given several opportunities, to stop and leave, but you just won’t quit.”
Reading me, he tried to kick me in my privates, but he didn’t know who he was messing with. Wham! Wham! Wham! Just that quick and it was over. Right hand. Left hand. Right hand. He was on the floor, out cold. Then Ogre acted like he was going to try something, but looked me in the eye, and saw something he didn’t like, and it wasn’t fear. I gave him a chance to sit back down and he did.
Cannonball was on the concrete, mumbling, “Sir, yes. Yes, sir. Sir, yes. Yes, sir,” and I left.
Cannonball was hospitalised. I was locked down for two months, and was it worth it? Yes, to help someone who was weaker, and no, because I could have gotten more time because the guy told the C.O.’s who did what, and I was fortunate the C.O.’s didn’t like the guy, so I didn’t get charged for it. But hear me, this is a choice I made to help others. I could have walked away from him saying something about me because everyone knew what I’m all about, and his words had no weight, and they still don’t because I am outnumbered 30 to 1, but God has my back.
I’d like to add some details to T-Bone’s story.
When this fight occurred, I was in my cell in the building adjoined to BHF’s. My cellmate, Long Island, revealed some details about the fight, which I wrote down, but obviously couldn’t post to the Internet at that time.
Apparently, a punch from T-Bone detached one side of Cannonball’s lip, which ended up dangling down his chin. Also, Cannonball’s head hit the toilet with such force that water splashed onto the wall, restoring some of the wall to a cream colour.
When Cannonball regained consciousness, Ogre said, “Goddam celly, you’ve been fubarred!” – fucked up beyond all recognition. They dressed Cannonball in a hat, shirt, jacket and sunglasses to get him back to his cell undetected by the guards. But as he had a mangled lip, a squashed broken nose, a broken cheek, and a broken jaw he had to be hospitalised. For his own safety, when he returned from hospital days later, he was rehoused to an adjacent yard. I saw him wearing a neck brace with a face so swollen black and blue, he looked like he’d survived a severe car crash.
Click here for T-Bone’s previous fight story.
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Shaun P. Attwood