Chapter 20 -- The Second Visit

    

    The 500-mile trip is not an easy one. This time Joe and I made the trek through Atlanta. We left early on a Friday morning so we could travel at our leisure, eat lunch somewhere below the Florida line, and make it to our hotel just after suppertime. That way we would be fresh for our visit on Saturday morning. I do not like to read while I travel but I had become interested in The Hunger Games so the time passed rather quickly for me. 

     We showered, dressed, ate breakfast and packed for our trip to the prison. I carried my clean clothes packed in plastic bags, just like the guard had suggested. When we reached the parking lot, I slipped into the outfit I had washed and packed in Alabama.

     We were confident we had followed the correct procedure should we be tested again by the scanner.  Since we had been told that those visitors selected for a scan were randomly chosen, Joe and I felt sure the odds were in our favor that neither of us would be scanned on this day. After all, there were guests there who had never been scanned.

     After my first experience with the metal detector, I knew not to wear an underwire bra, so we both passed the first hurdle with no problems. As I moved along the line, I felt a strange sense of discomfort come over me. I thought I was nervous from my first encounter with the ion scanner, but it felt like more than just nerves.  Sure enough, the guard instructed me to uncover my hip pocket. WHAT? Was I being tested again? This cannot be random. They really think I am guilty! They have picked me out to do a scan because they think I produce ecstasy?!?

    Wait! What am I nervous about I have followed the procedure to the letter? I have clean clothes that I put on in the parking lot. Just as all these thoughts passed through my head, I heard the sound of the Ion Scan 500 DT and I knew there would be trouble.

     I was asked, once again, to take my place. Joe was not a Happy Camper. Although he had not been with me during my ordeal during the first visit, he was frustrated with the actions of the guards just the same. And now it appeared to be happening again. Needless to say, his temper was beginning to show.

     When the guard told us we would have to meet behind the glass again, Joe became irate. I will not repeat what he said but it was not pleasant. He let it be known that we had done all that was asked of us on the first positive charge. When he was met with a lack of concern, he asked to see someone higher up in the administrative chain. As we waited, he became angrier just thinking about the situation.  Waiting is not productive when tempers are already agitated.

     When the warden arrived, he acted as if he was aggravated at even being bothered by our request.  He was not very friendly nor accommodating. Joe explained our dilemma and asked what we needed to do to correct this mistake to which he responded, “Well, your wife just doesn’t need to test positive.” WRONG ANSWER!  That was not the reply Joe needed to hear.  Frustration from the first visit combined with the condescending attitudes of the workers at this second visit sent Joe into orbit. HE LOST IT! I watched helplessly as Joe proceeded to spew words directly in the face of the warden. The only thing I heard was “LET ME TELL YOU ONE THING….”

     Here we were at a maximum-security prison and Joe was reading the Riot Act to the Warden, no less. I tried to remain cool and asked him to calm down, but anyone who has ever tried to quiet a redheaded, hot-tempered Hobby would understand. He was going to say his piece even if we ended up at FCI Coleman, too. The other guards and I watched in disbelief as Joe continued to make his grievance known. All I could do was pray and believe me, that is just what I was doing.

     After what seemed like an hour but was really more like 10 minutes, Joe retreated. I don’t know if his common sense took over or he just got worn out, but I knew he did not give up his stance. He would carry this complaint onward and upward if need be.

     Later Joe would investigate the ion scanner and its use in the prison system.  We found out that we were not the only people with complaints about false positive drug tests. Joe considered carrying his complaint even further, like to a Senator or even the Department of Justice, but we both decided that the repercussions might be detrimental to Matt, so he decided to drop his case. We both found it ironic that the guards were never checked upon entry even though Matt had said there was plenty of drugs available in the Yard.

     We continued to visit FCI Coleman without another scan. Either I was just lucky or maybe they had my name in the system with a label “DO NOT SCAN!”, but I was grateful never to face the Ion Scan 500 DT again.  I did, however, face countless body scans and searches.