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This Is Why Hazelton is Called Misery Mountain

Oct 29, 2024

By Steven Ballou

I have been incarcerated at FCI Hazelton (West Virginia) for six months. I’ve spent the majority of that time locked behind the door of my cell. I’ve received no disciplinary reports, so why am I being punished? If one person does anything the officers see as noncompliance, they resort to group punishment and lock the entire prison down. Or, sometimes, they say they are short of staff. But most of the time, we aren’t told why. Once behind the door, we’re deprived of rec time for fresh air and exercise. We don’t know when we’re coming back out. An often overlooked cost: We can’t get to the law library to work on our cases so we can get out, and many men miss deadlines for responding to rulings.

A snapshot of our lockdowns, from Aug. 29-Sept. 15.
Note: We are supposed to be let out of our cells at 6:30 a.m., then go back in for the night at 8:30 p.m. The times shown below are when we were locked into our cells. If we were told a reason, it appears in brackets.]

8/29: all day [staff home for WV college football]
8/30: all day [no staff
9/1: 6:30 a.m.-6 p.m. [short staff]
9/2: 9:30-11 a.m., 3:35-5:10 p.m.

9/3: 6:30 a.m.-5:15 p.m.
9/4: 9:20 a.m..-6 p.m. [threat to staff]
9/5: 6:30-7:20 a.m., 10:15 a.m.-1:30 p.m., 3:40-5:25 p.m.
9/6: 6:30 a.m.-5 p.m. [no staff]
9/7: all day [no staff for college football]
9/8: all day [no staff]
9/9: 6:30-9:10 a.m., 3:40-5:15 p.m. [no staff]
9/10: 6:30-9:15 a.m., 3:30 p.m. on [no staff]
9/11: 3:50-5:10 p.m.
9/12: 3:50-5:10 p.m.
9/13: 3:30-5 p.m.
9/14: 6:30-7 am., 9:34-11:15 a.m., 2:40-5 p.m.
9/15: 6:30 a.m.-5 p.m.

There are so many other things wrong here, many of them interrelated:

Staff: Insufficient staff is the reason for a lot of lockdowns. It’s not just not enough COs. Every time there is a West Virginia home game, they lock us down so officers can go or watch it on TV. 

Officers are supposed to de-escalate conflicts, but they are the culprits behind so many incidents. They’re hostile toward inmates, don’t want you to ask questions or even speak to them, and often stoke conflicts between inmates. They use fear, threats and retaliation to keep us in line. And unit teams don’t follow the rules for how often they meet with inmates and the calculation of First Step Act (FSA) time credits, which means we aren’t released as early as we’re supposed to be. 

When my cellie and I first arrived here, we were locked down the following day. We didn’t know what was going on. Then the counselor opened our door and my cellie asked, “Can we get hot water and ice?” Our counselor snapped, “Don’t question me!” A few hours later, we were let out. But then the counselor went into our cell, covered the door window and threw all our property on the floor, saying it was a cell search.

Another time, when a guy kept filing complaints on the staff for all the things going on, the same counselor warned him that, “If you don’t stop telling [on us], I am going to tell the people in your car [group] that you’ve been telling on them.” He knew that would get people thinking that he’s a snitch. Sure enough, his fellow car members made him check in [voluntarily check in to the SHU for “protective custody”]. 

There are officers who send people to the SHU just so they can fill it up and then lock down the entire compound. And they pay people to be informants by offering them $100 worth of “flats” (stamps, which is our “currency”). In other words, they try to use the inmates to enforce their laws.

Programming: We’re supposed to be able to participate in programs and work our jobs (if we have one) to better ourselves, but we can’t do so during the constant lockdowns. These are the activities that lower our scores for likely recidivism, and allow us to get out if we’re eligible for the FSA! Yet, the prison is still funded for holding these programs, so you have to ask: Where is the money going? I call that stealing.

Regarding jobs: There aren’t enough. So, the majority of inmates are stuck in their pods, doing idle time. How is this preparing them for life after prison? 

Medical/mental health: During lockdowns, medical staff don’t come to see you (we’re denied the ability to go to sick call), and often deny treatment. Medications aren’t always delivered. The confinement and uncertainty about when it will end plays havoc on your mental health. There’s no therapist who will come to assist unless you scream suicide (and even, they don’t aways come!). Lying on our thin mattresses, over steel frames, all day long is really bad for our backs. Standing up (or maybe exercising) on the concrete is painful as well, and makes injuries likelier to happen. 

Family support: We’re not allowed any outside communication when we’re on lockdown: There’s no access to phones or email, and no visits. Sometimes, visitation is canceled at the last minute, after family members have traveled long distances to see their loved ones. One guy’s girlfriend thought he was not calling because he was not making time for her, but we were really on lockdown! Mail delivery is delayed as well when the  prison is short on staff. Either we don’t get it on a timely basis or they don’t send it out for us right away, when we give it to them. I’ve had mail take two weeks to reach the destination. To see just how long the prison is holding up my mail, I’ve asked people to send it certified; the mailroom often holds it for three to five days! Staff also violate policy by opening legal mail out of our presence. That is simply illegal.

Food:  People are afraid to eat the food here because of a large rat infestation. It’s gotten so bad so bad over the last month or so that we’re not allowed to eat in the chow hall. We get our food on styrofoam trays. But the food is still prepared there! By the time we get our food, it’s not hot anymore; the “hot boxes” that are supposed to keep the food warm on the way to the units ether aren’t turned on or don’t work. I’ve watched our food trays sit in our “pods” for an hour or two before we’re finally served. If this was a public restaurant, it would be closed down. If we complain, the cops run into our cells and destroy our things or take us to the SHU. But many of the men don’t have the money to buy food from the commissary. And, I assure you that inflation is not just a free-world problem. Our prices are high! Plus, when we are on lockdown, we’re not allowed to go to the commissary because it’s considered a “privilege.”

I believe we all have to pay for what we do. But our punishment is being taken away from our lives. Torture while here was not part of the sentence. I’m an animal lover and PETA would have a field day if pets were locked up for days without exercise, fed food gone bad and denied medical attention. This place is called “Misery Mountain,” and the staff reminds you of the reason every day. Perhaps they have a hard time getting enough staff to show up because the black cloud of misery gets to them too. 

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