The girls and I are dining at Centro and as we started on our second bottle of wine, our conversation moved to new topics and entered a question and answer mode. Men, Books, Sex and the Vanier Centre for Women – not necessarily in that order. For those of you who might not know about Vanier, it is a prison. And over twenty years ago I was inside for six weeks.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like in prison. How horrible was it?”
“Actually, it was quite interesting”.
That got a reaction. Eyes opened wide.
Remember, I was only there for six weeks so that made it much easier. I got the occasional anti- semitic jibe but I held my temper. I was surprised at just how supportive my fellow inmates were from the first day to the last day. They knew all about the Starr affair and had so many comments about the politicians involved. Most were friendly and very helpful in showing me the ropes about how things work in prison so that I wouldn’t irritate the wrong people.
I was probably one of the oldest women in Vanier – but I was shocked at how much older most of them looked – drugs do hideous things to a woman’s skin, hair and teeth. If young girls saw what they would look like after ten years of drugs, they might think twice. Like those pictures about black lungs and cigarettes once were. After seeing them, I had quit smoking, cold turkey.
“Oh come on Patti – we have heard lots of stories of women in prison. And you aren’t exactly a laid-back personality.”
“Interesting that you should say that”, I laughed. “Now I’ll tell you a most bizarre story that I was afraid to put in the book. Today it won’t cause any problems for anyone or any uproar as it would have back then”.
It was a Saturday morning and it was my turn to clean the eight rooms in my section of Ingleside. There were twelve of us in the cottage. Cleaning involved mopping the floors, washing the bathrooms and window ledges with a wet cloth and then emptying the garbage cans. As I went about my task, I found what looked like dirty ice pellets inside the window ledges (there are bars on the windows) and on the floors under some of the cots.
“Ah ha, I see by your faces you know what those were”.
“Well, we have certainly read enough to make an educated guess”.
Yes, but this had happened over twenty years ago and I had no idea what those pellets were. So I scooped them into a plastic bowl and marched into the main lounge area. The guards’ station was located behind a wide counter and off to the side were a couple of small glass cubicles. The girls were sitting on couches reading, or watching TV which was always on the MuchMusic channel.
“Okay girls!” I announced loudly. “No fair. Don’t drop garbage into window ledges or under the floor. When you clean my room you don’t find junk like this all around”. And then I placed the bowl, with the pellets clearly visible inside, on the counter.
Dead silence. No one said a word. I remember the look on the head guard’s face – she just stared at me. Then she took the bowl into the back office and that was the end of it. Nothing was ever said to me again and no one ever asked me any questions.
The girls are now laughing – and then they asked me when I figured out that it was crack cocaine.
Six months after I was paroled, I got permission to invite three of the girls who were also released around the same time as me for cocktails and dinner. We were kibitzing about some of the weirdos in Vanier when they told me that I was lucky that I wasn’t dead, or severely battered. I guess from the look on my face they realized I had no idea what they were talking about.
“Patti baby, those pellets you found were crack – worth about $5,000 on the street. They are crushed and then put it into pipes or whatever to smoke”.
Who had smuggled the stuff into our cottage? Was it the guards or the inmates? Who knows? Like the proverbial bull in the china shop – I had blundered into a potential catastrophe. Someone inside had obviously understood…and had kindly covered my back. So whoever you are, if you are reading this, thank you.
“What about male guards? Were there any there? How did the women react to them?
I remember one male guard who always had a huge bunch of keys hanging from a heavy chain right next to his front zipper. I guess it was some kind of statement about his dubious manhood – but keys???? The gossip was that he often made private visits to some of the rooms in exchange for special treatment. But then, so too did some of the female guards.
In 1996 I received a full and unconditional pardon from the government of Canada. By 2009, most of the lawyers involved in the Starr Inquiry, on both sides, had been appointed to the Bench. Yes, I know that it is hard to believe, but it is true. And not one of them has ever sent me a thank you note.
Now it was time to change the focus of our conversation. My story was done – we were ready to talk about some good books we had recently read and share experiences about the interesting men and relationships we had all known – just as the dessert menu arrived. Perfect timing.
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