Visiting Hours

Admittedly, just about everything I know about prison life has been gleaned from movies and television – namely Shawshank Redemption and Orange Is The New Black. Probably not the best recipe to calm my nerves before heading to the Big House – make that, the Gigantic House – last evening.

Just to be clear, I was visiting. I have not been secretly naughty... except for having a heavily frosted piece of cake at each of the 3 graduation parties attended this weekend!

I was set to visit my nephew Tony, who is now a part of the Wisconsin prison system thanks to an alcohol-induced mistake last summer. He was sentenced in February to incarceration followed by a Department of Corrections treatment program followed by extended supervision, all totaling 8 years.

His first stop was Dodge Correctional, a maximum security facility in southeast Wisconsin, where they determine where to place inmates next for the long haul. Only his very immediate family could visit him there. Two weeks ago, he finally got transferred to Winnebago near Oshkosh, which is minimum security and allows up to a dozen names on the visitor list.

Since that is less than 90 minutes from us, Tony sent me an application right away. After a vigorous background check, they approved me as a visitor. I was both thrilled and nervous. I won't lie, after reading the dozens of strict rules for visitors, I was afraid I wouldn't make it past the first checkpoint.

At least my twin sister (Tony's mom) warned me that with the metal detectors, you can't even wear an underwire bra. So I wisely wore a sports bra but still didn't know if any metal (or fake metal) on my pants and shoes would set anything off. The rules clearly stated that a visitor would have 3 tries to get through the metal detector successfully or they can't visit.

There are Tuesday visiting hours from 6:30-8:30 so I drove over right from work, which is less than an hour from there. During the whole drive I envisioned getting stopped at a gate or tower before driving to a visitor parking lot. When I got to the town or village of Winnebago, I thought I was lost when I turned down the road and was driving past homes before I suddenly was there, making a left turn on a driveway that passed acres of a massive manicured lawn. Is this why they say minimum security is like the "country club"?

I parked and followed a crowd of what I hoped were other visitors, keeping in mind I needed to keep my mouth shut and, as the rules also clearly stated, do nothing to engage, acknowledge or interact with inmates roaming the grounds. Because seriously, this country club wasn't even a "gated community."

This was not at all like Shawshank or Litchfield!

Still, I was nervous about "getting through," even though all I was carrying was my driver's license and my car key. Didn't even have my wedding ring on – in case it set off the metal detector or the vast value of it made myself a "target" of some sort.

Oh yes, I do watch too much TV!

When I got to the front of the line, I handed over my visitor form and license and was asked Tony's ID number. Well I knew the first 3 digits from writing to him, but not the whole thing. I said, "Uhm... I know it's 602 something." The guard turns to the computer guard guy and says, "She says 'it's 602 something.'" And they both laugh. I quickly surmised that there were probably a good number of inmate ID's starting with 602. Thankfully (and logically, in my opinion), they could just look up his name.

When I was approved, they sent me up the stairs and into the visiting room (aka cafeteria). No metal detector.

Seriously?
W
I guess that is the difference between maximum and minimum. I also was allowed a nice hug in the beginning and end of our visit. And we sat across from each other at a small table. No plexiglass barrier. No talking through a phone. Very, very nice.

It really was so good to see him! I said I was there on behalf of his mom and a whole lotta people who love and miss him. I don't know how many times I said, "I can't tell you how much your mom really wishes she was the one visiting you!"

We had a very good visit. He looked good, much healthier than he has been. And he assured me he was safe. He wasn't anyone's "wife" or part of any gang. Hey, I had to ask on behalf of his worried mother, right? He said no one there is there because of a "violent" crime. Mainly alcohol- or drug-related charges.

He feels good about being there in particular, since they have a nice "front yard" on the shores of Lake Winnebago and can eventually earn work-release privileges, too. While a good chunk of their salary will go back to the prison for "room and board," the working inmates still can set some aside for their release fund and possibly learn a new skill while they're at it. Other than being 5 hours away from the rest of the family, it is the ideal place, we both agreed.

Two hours went very quickly. Other than not being able to buy him a Coke when he was thirsty (I was too nervous about carrying any money even though it was approved!), I behaved, followed the rules and did not call attention to myself.

Oh, and enjoyed myself too, as much as one can in such surroundings. While we have corresponded quite regularly through letters, this will be a nice alternative. I should be able to play "surrogate mom" at least once a month, playing it by ear with his work schedule once he reaches that step.

In the meantime, he would love some mail from family and friends! Feel free to reach out to him at:

      Winnebago Correctional Center
      Tony Soderquist #602705
      P.O. Box 219
      Winnebago, WI 54985-01287

He's a good kid who just made some bad choices. If nothing else, please pray for him and his determination to turn his life around!