By a California Prisoner
When I first came to prison in the early '80s, an old convict warned me about the dangers of prisondom. He explained that life is cheap, and people lose their lives over the smallest things -- even a smoke. While prison does foster rather unfortunate norms, getting killed over a cigarette seemed a bit excessive for the times. Back then tobacco and matches were issued out with our weekly supplies, along with toilet paper and soap.
"They gave us some (roll-your-own) with our fish-kits when we first drove up," said Thomas Wallen, 35, from Kern County, in reference to the initial supplies issued to new-arrivals (fish).
That was a different era, and prison officials quit supplying tobacco in the late '80s. Despite witnessing a lot of regrettable chaos and violence over the years, I've never seen the cigarette-scenario play-out. But this is a new era, and things are about to change. As of July 1, tobacco has been banned in the California Department of Corrections (CDC). This prohibition applies to both staff and inmate alike.
California has joined a handful of states where tobacco has been outlawed in their prison systems. When the embargo takes effect, cigarettes become the drug-of-choice. Suddenly, a $10 can of roll-your-own skyrockets in value, climbing to $500 a can or more. Fueling this persevering black market force is the self-destructive and hopelessly-addicted nature of the incarcerated.
Since the CDC has been identified as the most violent prison system in the country by numerous sources, including the Supreme Court earlier this year in a prison segregation case, this ban will likely further exacerbate the problems plaguing an already volatile demographic.
"They're making this an even more unstable environment than it already is," said Mitch Farrell, a 40 year old inmate from Del Norte County.
The tobacco restriction isn't exactly embraced by the correctional officers, either. Just the other day, while in the process of confiscating an inmate's tobacco, the officer expressed his discontent with this new measure. Many officers have made similar comments.
One of the impediments to the CDC's smooth transition into a tobacco-free atmosphere is the fact so many prison employees use tobacco themselves. Moreover, when the demand among the inmate population hits its peak, someone absolutely will supply it.
"Is there any doubt who'll be bringing it in," said Robert Hagenson, a 53 year old inmate from San Fernando Valley. "It's a stupid law. Do you blame them?"
While expressing sentiments shared by many, Hagenson explains it's still very early in the embargo, only a few weeks old. However, to the chagrin of many, staff and inmate alike know the pangs of addiction will slowly take on a deadly level of seriousness.
"Many of these guys have not been in their right minds since they took the tobacco," said Hagenson. "I'd imagine it's going to get ugly."
###