So, Chitunga is a lot like me. He spreads his feathered wings wide and takes under them anyone who is in need of a friend, mentorship, guidance, and support. When he first moved in he shared the story of one of his co-workers who had an altercation with the law and, because of his crime, was ordered to a year in Walker Correctional Institute. He has been writing back and forth to his friend and staying in close contact with his friend's family.
Last night, Chitunga told me his plan to visit his friend and that he'd unlikely get home until 9 p.m. Looking at the weather report and knowing Nellie, his unreliable set of wheels, was unlikely to do such a great job, I volunteered to drive him to the facility and to be there for him after his visit. Of course, I didn't realize the encampment was almost to Massachusetts, but a promise is a promise and so we went.
Chitunga drove. On the way up, he participated with me on a NWP conference call regarding the LRNG Innovation Challenge Award and heard the hyped-set of rules for the NYC celebration on Tuesday. He also put the wrong address in, so we ended up in a neighborhood of million dollar homes. I said, "Something tells me this isn't it or else your friend has really good connections."
We typed in the real address and found our way into fields of absolute darkness and to the visitation center. I dropped him off and told him to text when he was done. I headed out to find a library to work and read.
This was difficult, as the only other place near the prison was Shamrock Bar and Grill and an ice-cream factory. I hope the imprisoned inmates get good treats every now and again and that other visitors are able to do a couple of shots before visiting their loved ones. I was five minutes away when Chitunga called and said, "They won't let me in. There's no visitations on Abraham Lincoln's birthday." So, the drive and good-deed effort was a dud, although we stopped at Red Robin and had a good dinner on the way home.
I think Chitunga's nerves gave room for humor as the two of us laughed at the entire experience, contemplating laws, crime, being locked up, and the choices we both make to stand behind those who don't make the same decisions as we do. I told him we have to stop bonding on these holidays: Christmas, MLK Day, and now Abe's birthday, because our bond is getting wrapped up in history and festivity. It's sort of confusing.
Either way, I don't think the occasion was a bust. I'm in it for the long hall and promise to support Chitunga's choices and willingness to be there for his friends. He texted his friend's mom who was sad that her son wouldn't be able to see a good friend, but she invited Chitunga to dinner on Saturday. And I'm thankful for the distraction, because otherwise Crandall is all work and no prison experiences.
And with that, I turn on the weather channel in anticipation of the crap scheduled to come.
Last night, Chitunga told me his plan to visit his friend and that he'd unlikely get home until 9 p.m. Looking at the weather report and knowing Nellie, his unreliable set of wheels, was unlikely to do such a great job, I volunteered to drive him to the facility and to be there for him after his visit. Of course, I didn't realize the encampment was almost to Massachusetts, but a promise is a promise and so we went.
Chitunga drove. On the way up, he participated with me on a NWP conference call regarding the LRNG Innovation Challenge Award and heard the hyped-set of rules for the NYC celebration on Tuesday. He also put the wrong address in, so we ended up in a neighborhood of million dollar homes. I said, "Something tells me this isn't it or else your friend has really good connections."
We typed in the real address and found our way into fields of absolute darkness and to the visitation center. I dropped him off and told him to text when he was done. I headed out to find a library to work and read.
This was difficult, as the only other place near the prison was Shamrock Bar and Grill and an ice-cream factory. I hope the imprisoned inmates get good treats every now and again and that other visitors are able to do a couple of shots before visiting their loved ones. I was five minutes away when Chitunga called and said, "They won't let me in. There's no visitations on Abraham Lincoln's birthday." So, the drive and good-deed effort was a dud, although we stopped at Red Robin and had a good dinner on the way home.
I think Chitunga's nerves gave room for humor as the two of us laughed at the entire experience, contemplating laws, crime, being locked up, and the choices we both make to stand behind those who don't make the same decisions as we do. I told him we have to stop bonding on these holidays: Christmas, MLK Day, and now Abe's birthday, because our bond is getting wrapped up in history and festivity. It's sort of confusing.
Either way, I don't think the occasion was a bust. I'm in it for the long hall and promise to support Chitunga's choices and willingness to be there for his friends. He texted his friend's mom who was sad that her son wouldn't be able to see a good friend, but she invited Chitunga to dinner on Saturday. And I'm thankful for the distraction, because otherwise Crandall is all work and no prison experiences.
And with that, I turn on the weather channel in anticipation of the crap scheduled to come.
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