Packed in like Sardines
Sullivan County Jail suffering worst overcrowding ever, as inmates are Packed in like Sardines.
Prisoners, jailers alike are forced to cope
It wouldn’t be mistaken for Alcatraz, but it’s nothing like the Ritz, either.
It is, after all, a jail — built to hold lawbreakers.
But in recent months and even years, the Sullivan County Jail has been the subject of scrutiny by officials concerned about the overcrowded conditions. One longtime jailer said current conditions are the worst ever at the facility.
A visit to the jail revealed that even though it is very cramped, it looks and smells no different than what you would expect from a detention center.
At the foot of cinderblock walls, the concrete floors are painted red, splattered with black paint and lined with the sealant used to fill cracks.
Windows spanning the width of the jail give a view of the hills beyond, but the tightly latticed steel strands protecting them remind you of where you are. Water stands on the floors between cellblocks, where it has spilled over from shower stalls.
Then the smell hits, and you understand the words that most everyone who has ever visited a jail uses to describe the atmosphere — it’s a combination of sweat, urine and cigarette smoke. The memory of the smell leaves the building with you and stays in your head for a while.
But something else sticks with an observer much longer than the memory of the stench, and it brings to mind another familiar phrase. Inmates are packed in there like sardines.
That’s no secret. The sheriff, the County Commission, the county grand jury, the media and the prisoners themselves have been talking about it for years.
On any given day, the jail house, built in 1987 to hold 317 prisoners, might be stuffed with 500 or more inmates. On March 12 — a Friday — 487 men and women were inside, with 50 more expected by 10 p.m., when people serving weekend duty were to check in, sheriff’s officials said.
More than 100 of them were state prisoners, but they remained in county lockup since state facilities had no room for them, prison officials said.
The problem is compounded by a staff shortage, jail officers said. Eleven officers work each shift, but the sheriffs office could use at least four more per shift, they Said.
Overcrowding at the county jail is nothing new. The facility, part of the Sullivan County Justice Center, was built after years of overcrowding problems at the old jail. Yet within a year, the complaints began anew, said Sgt. Hal Brown, a jail officer for 12 years.
And as time passed, the problem grew, Brown said.
“These are the worst conditions we’ve had,” said Brown, a shift supervisor at the jail.
Even the solitary cells built to separate jailhouse aggressors from victims are usually over capacity.
That block was meant for nine but held about 19 on March 12. So the cells were a little less than solitary, but officers try to make sure that those who share them are compatible, officers said.
Sheriffs officials said they approach the situation, with its accompanying tensions and fights among inmates, with a philosophical slant.
“We experience problems on a daily basis,” Brown said. “Even if it wasn’t overcrowded, that would still be there. You can’t really expect that they’re going to be good.”
But that doesn’t blind them to the reality of the situation, Brown said.
“There’s really not a cell in the jail that’s not overcrowded,” he said.
But a look inside the building brought home the situation better than words could. Mattresses were lying on the floor of each block. In more crowded blocks, inmates’ only moving around spaces were in the aisles created between the rows of floored mattresses.
Inadequate air conditioning and the body heat generated by the sheer number of people brought humidity into the mix. The Sheriffs Office has relaxed some of its rules to compensate for that problem, Brown said. That meant several prisoners were asleep in the middle of the day, and many of the ones who were awake were down to their underwear.
“We don’t enforce a lot of rules designed when this facility came on line, because it’s so overcrowded,” Brown said.
“Way overcrowded,” an inmate yelled later from Cellblock E, one of several blocks reserved for maximum-security prison inmates and others awaiting felony trials.
Cellblock E is in the center of the men’s section — where the heat is worst. And its inhabitants were talking loudly, cursing, yelling, chattering repetitively. Many in other blocks huddled in groups, flashing suspicious glances and talking quietly among themselves as visitors passed by. But those in E weren’t shy about their agendas.
That was the only way for the visitor to know what they were thinking. Citing security reasons.
Sheriff Wayne Anderson refused to allow a reporter to speak with anyone other than trusties, and no photographs were allowed of inmates. The trusties’ cellblocks are downstairs and were only slightly overcrowded.
But in E, some wanted to be heard anyway. There were 25 inmates in a unit meant to hold 16. Nine of them had beds on the floor. But for one, elbow room was not the most pressing of problems.
“This is some (expletive deleted),” the inmate said as he jumped onto a bench, his face nearly pressed against the bars, his words coming through a sneer.
One, then another prisoner echoed the expletive. A visitor asked the man perched on the bench if he was James Croft, the man awaiting trial in what police have called the “screwdriver bandit” robberies.
“I am,” he said. “I’m not afraid to tell you who I am. All I’m asking for … I can sleep on the floor. I’ve slept on the floor before. All I ask for is a fair defense.”
While Croft’s immediate worries went beyond the jailhouse, another inmate was concerned with the lack of exercise time.
“I’ve been here since September, and I ain’t been out on a yard run,” he said.
Prisoners commonly complain about a lack of outdoor exercise. but the sheriffs office has little control over the situation, Sgt. Spencer Fletcher said. With a shortage of at least four officers per shift, the staff has its hands full just running the inside of the jail, Fletcher said.
“State jail inspectors said that low staffing is a problem throughout the state.
“It seems like we never have enough staff for all the things we need to do,” Karen K. Dyer, an inspector with the Tennessee Corrections Institute, said by phone. The institute oversees jail inspection in the state.
The pay is low and the benefits scarce in many parts of the state, said Chuck Fisher, director of jail inspection for the corrections institute. And then, there is the nature of the job itself, he said.
“Working inside with criminals is not something that appeals to everyone, Fisher said in a phone interview.
Sullivan County jail officers are doing what they can with what they have, Fletcher said. But without all the employees they need, they can’t free up an officer to guard the exercise yard, he added.
“It’s almost an impossibility,” Fletcher said. “I don’t hardly get an hour of fresh air myself.”
If fresh air is at a premium in the men’s blocks, overcrowding in the women’s section made the rest of the jailhouse seem roomy. The women’s section, built to hold 20, housed 55 on March 12.
It has housed as many as 70, said Jail Matron Kathy Peters. Nine of the female inmates were serving state sentences.
Clothes and towels hung from almost every bar and bunk. Mattresses covered the floor, cutting deeply into the walking space. The female inmates were quiet; their faces seemed to express some sort of resignation as the visitors passed by. But tensions were just below the surface. Peters said.
“They do have their fights,” she said.
Those fights have yet to approach riot level, she said. But on Oct. 27, overcrowding in a men’s cellblock led to fires and an uprising that deputies stopped with pepper spray, officials said.
A Texas man, 23-year-old Eric M. “Easy” Larez, pleaded guilty in February to setting the fires inside the jail’s Cellblock B during the uprising. Deputies said Larez, who wanted to be transferred to a state prison after his conviction on drug charges, set fire to two rubber trash cans. The cans melted, filling the block with smoke.
That day, Cellblock B held 28 prisoners, officials said. It was designed to hold 16. Two prisoners — Johnny W. Short and David L.Tolbert — have since filed civil lawsuits in federal court against Cpl. Ron Bacon, said Sullivan County Attorney Dan Street. The suits are related to the use of the pepper spray, Street said.
Sullivan County officials are working to relieve the overcrowded conditions with a jail addition. Expected to cost $5.5 million, the project will increase capacity to 502, officials said.
The three-phase addition will begin in July or August and should be completed within two years, said Sullivan County Chief Deputy Bill Hickman.
The first phase will be the construction of a new administration wing, planners said. After that is complete, the current administration wing will be modified to hold male inmates. The third phase will increase capacity in the women’s section to 92, planners said.
Even then, the county will need more cell space, Hickman said. Sheriffs officials hope the County Commission will approve $10 million more in funds to support yet another addition that will bring jail capacity to 1,056, Hickman said. If approved, construction should be finished within five to seven years, he said.
It won’t be enough — construction will continue to lag behind inmate population growth, Hickman said.
“It’s not going to stop with whatever we build here,” he said. “I think we’re in for a real headache in the next 20 years.”
