Scenes of Prison
32. Hunger Strike
A n inmate named Richard was led into our Segregation Unit one day. He had dark hair and was very slender. He had a sharp nose and pale skin. He seemed weak. We put him in room L-2, next to the inmate shower room.
Richard didn’t want to come to Segregation, and he hadn’t done anything wrong. His paperwork said Richard was on a hunger strike.
This was new for me. I had little experience with people on hunger strikes. I thought they mostly wanted to say something that was important to them. They wanted people to pay attention to them, and they wanted people to remember what they had said. I imagined that Richard had felt some sting of injustice, and he wanted it to be addressed. Perhaps he wanted it reversed, but these issues didn’t involve our Unit. Why did a hunger strike bring him to us, a Disciplinary Segregation Unit? We asked, but an adequate answer eluded us.
Richard was under the care of our medical department and our psychiatrist, but they didn’t tell us why they had brought him to Segregation either. We imagined it was for an important reason, and we wondered what it might be. What role did they expect us to play? He hadn’t been victimized by other inmates, so he didn’t appear to need our protection.
At meal times, we delivered food trays to his room, and he refused them. He stayed with us for a week, and he didn't eat anything. He also refused his hour of outside exercise, but he did go to the shower room, and we could see how little meat was left on his bones.
One day, he left. He was transferred to the hospital at the Diagnostic and Evaluation Center, and I wondered if they would force feed him and stop his hunger strike. I didn't expect to see Richard again.
Three weeks passed, and one day, Richard came through the entrance door once again with his hands cuffed behind his back and an officer following close behind. We put him back in the same room. He was even thinner than before, and he was continuing to refuse all food. I had lost track of how long he had been on a hunger strike. I didn’t think people could live as long as he had lived without food.
Why did they bring him back to us? What were they expecting to happen in our Segregation Unit? Later in the day, I got my answer.
A nurse came to the entrance door and asked to be taken to see Richard. I escorted her, and I opened Richard’s door. I had to stay with her to provide security, and so I learned the answer to at least one of our questions.
The nurse greeted Richard, and then she went over with him what he could expect to happen in his body as he died.
Died!
They brought Richard back to our Unit to die! That’s what they expected to happen! Now, I understood, and now, I was really alarmed.
What were we supposed to do as Richard lay dying in room L-2?
Time passed. Richard continued to refuse all food and became weaker and weaker. I thought a lot about Richard. I prayed for Richard.
One Sunday, while at church, I decided that Richard needed a miracle. There was no other hope, and there was one person in our church who I thought might produce one. Bill Gay was a retired minister who led a weekly Bible study group which I attended. Kindly, learned, spiritual. If anyone could conjure up a miracle, it would be Bill Gay.
“Bill,” I said, “I need a miracle.”
Bill listened to Richard’s story, and he said that he and his wife Betsy would pray for him that night. I thanked him, but I wasn’t particularly hopeful. I was alarmed, maybe a little desperate, but not hopeful.
The next morning, a Monday, I went to Richard’s room, as was my routine, and I offered him his breakfast tray, which he had always refused. He took it! He took the tray, and he ate every bite, and he returned his tray when he had finished. He was even polite. He thanked me.
At noon, I held my breath and offered him another tray. He took this one, too. In the coming days, his eating returned to normal. His hunger strike was over.
With Richard eating normally, there was no reason to keep Richard in Segregation. He would leave us soon, but before he left, I wanted him to know of Bill and Betsy Gay’s plea to God on his behalf. He listened and nodded in understanding, but nothing more.
It isn’t every day that you get to witness a miracle and even benefit personally from it. I thought Richard might have been a little more impressed, maybe thankful. If he was, I didn’t see it.
Bill Gay wasn’t surprised when I told him about Richard and the miraculous end of his hunger strike. He was pleased, but not surprised. I suppose he expected this to happen. That’s the kind of person Bill Gay was, and that’s why I went to him for a miracle when we really needed one.
Discussion
- So God listens to prayers about prisoners and dispenses miracles to people who don’t deserve them and don’t appreciate them. What other conclusion do you think is warranted?
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