Part 3- For Dickey B et.al.

How Alcatraz Saved My Life

I posted this story a few years ago.

After a tour of the So. Cal. federal prisons I was sent to a federal 1/2 way house in Oakland. This was fucked up as I still had a house & a beautiful wife in San Francisco. & the cops are more chicken-shit. As custody is reduced the cops become more ass-holeish. The cops in heavier security are less chicken-shit because their inmates are more violent & the cops are more @ risk. I was 33 & it was 1983.

When I got there a guy I knew from a joint in So. Cal. was already there. He was my age & he was called Brian. He was a high-school teacher who was popped for cooking speed. This was 40 years ago.

The 1/2 way house was co-ed & we were all crazy from being locked up & deprived. But I had crazy-ass sugar @ home in the city.

There was a white guy in the 1/2 way house who was 69 years old. He was an old man (I am now 67. His name was Robert Gilford. He had been in custody since 1932. He & 3 crime-partners & some guards were killed & some people were kidnaped. Bob was  18 & his partners were over 20. It was a federal offense & they were all sentenced to death. Since Bob was only 18 his bit was commuted to live & his boys were killed. He was sent to Leavenworth Federal Prison. When he 25 the Lt. of the Guards was "riding his ass" so Bob stabbed him. Why not? He had already been sentenced to death & was serving life. Well the guard didn't die so Bob did a long stint in the "hole" & then was sent to Alcatraz.

He stayed there & was released @ about 60. He didn't have any family or friends on the street but he had a little $ on the street because he protected someone in the joint who put up a little $ for him. It was hard to adjust & after about 4 years Bob realized that only safe place for him to live was in the joint. He was totally institutionalized & understood the game. It is said that one begins to become institutionalized after 90 days. So he robbed a bank & walked outside to the bus stop & waited for the cops to take him "home".

When I met him he was kept in the 1/2 house as he had no where to go.

He was a good old man who had no $. Brian & I respected him & we would buy him coffee & cigarettes. We would sneak & smoke joints with him & bull-shit. Since he had been locked up so long in Max. facilities, he knew nearly every major crime figure of the 20th century. He would tell us the best gangster stories. He knew everyone. We used to laugh & talk & forget our troubles. Bob would tell us stories & in return he wanted us to tell him about women. He was popped  young  & hence had little experience with them.

He didn't just wanted to know the nasty shit. He wanted to know what was in their purses, what did they talk about, how  did they walk in them heels, what do they think about, were they liars or could you trust them, did they like sex or not, & so on. We were fast friends.

Every Sunday we all got a 1/2 day pass to get out. If you didn't return the Federal Marshalls would hunt you for escape. I would go home to my lovely wife. Bob would go to Fisherman's Wharf & take the ferry to Alcatraz. He was going home.

Bob used to always say to us "Boys don't spend your life in here." I took his advise to heart. I still had great contacts in Colombia & could had ran some loads of blow & made some real $. I really thought about it. I really had to consider the course of my life. I had a wonderful opportunity for a great life in San Francisco with my amazing wife who is loyal to me, waited for me, loves me, is talented, & mine. If I made big $ we could have everything or we could struggle & live together for ever. I listened to Bob. I knew that while I could be successful running my old life someone would rat me out & I would get a longer sentence next time. The equation was: exciting, fancy $ & life style or life with my woman. I chose the woman.

One day Bob said "Boys, you have been good to me. There is 1 thing I can give you.". He asked us to go to Alcatraz with him on Sunday. We told him that we loved him but we could not go & glorify the joint. He was sad but told us that he understood & respected us.

I do love him.

When I was released from the 1/2 way house I came home to San Francisco & never saw Bob again. He died in custody.

Now I am in the Autumn of my life. Better luck has probably not been know. With the advise & support of the  angels who have helped me  in my life I have survived  Sometimes we find what we need in the most surprising places.

RIP brother.