NYC’s notorious Rikers Island: "I hated the place."

On October 17, 2019, the New York City Council voted to shut down Rikers Island by 2026, after years of protest and outrage over the jail's deplorable conditions and a history of violence against and by inmates.

Rikers Island

I had visited Damon, the youngest of my four children, at the 413-acre jail complex many times after he began getting into serious trouble with the law at age 20.I hated the place. Each trip to this island jail, afloat in the East River, was a nightmare. Nonetheless, once or twice a month, I endured the long, arduous trip on city buses from my apartment in Brooklyn to a pick-up location in Queens, only to have to line up outside--no matter the weather--to board barely-functioning school buses that shuttled visitors across the Hazen Street Bridge to and from Rikers.

Upon arrival at Rikers, we were hustled into the Visit Control Building, a large, bustling reception area filled with the incessant chatter of visitors--mostly women with restless children of all ages--who jostled for seats, sometimes arguing over them. Visitors smoked, ate, or milled about for three or four hours until names were called to climb onto dilapidated buses, with missing or broken seats that took us to one of seven “houses.”

House Calls

Judge Joe Brown's face filled the wall-mounted TV in the then-named House of Detention for Men (HDM).The visit room floor was grimy, with pale red and gray, diamond-shaped tiles. On one wall hung a "Wanted for Homicide: Reward" poster with twelve photos. "Call 1-800-577 TIPS."

The women's bathroom door was held open by a dirty, white leather belt from which hung a single roll of toilet tissue. Individual stalls were filthy with some toilets unflushed. The soap dish held a sticky residue turned to grime. Someone remarked, "This is a shame. I'm a nurse and this (bathroom) gives me the creeps."

I didn't want to get used to this!

Most of the COs were young to middle-aged black men and women who unsmilingly processed us and appeared bored. The captain was a white male in his early fifties with a large girth spilling over his belt. Upon arrival at HDM, the game was on to secure one of the gray, metal lockers with large white numbers for personal belongings. If you didn’t grab one quickly, it could delay your visit another two or three hours until someone came out and freed up a locker.

During one harrowing visit, I moved to open a locker when a young woman pushed me aside to claim it; frustrated and angry, I shoved back, and we tussled until COs interceded. They escorted us to a small room to cool down. Before releasing us, they admonished us not to mention the altercation to the inmates. We agreed. However, shortly after Damon had joined me at our table, another inmate jumped up and shouted, “I’m gonna kill you, muthafucka!” Evidently, the woman had chosen to tell her brother about the incident. Of course, I had no recourse but to inform Damon.

Unnerved by the threat, he was visibly shaken for the duration of the visit. After the visit ended, I wanted to avoid another incident. Fortunately, when I spotted the woman, she simply ignored me. Not long after I had arrived home, Damon called to say that the inmate and several others had jumped him. He pleaded with me to bail him out. Shortly, thereafter, his father did so.

On another occasion, Damon showed up with a blood-red eye and a long, but superficial, cut across his chest, the result of a scuffle with another inmate. He assured me that he was fine despite these injuries. Nonetheless, I feared for his safety.

During those years, fear and anxiety were my constant companions. I often laid awake at night worrying about what harm might come to him.

Court Action

In 1988, Damon filed suit under the Civil Rights Act, 42. U. S. C. (in U.S. District Court, Southern District of New York) against "the commissioner of corrections, five correctional officers, and two captains," alleging that the COs had beaten him up. He sought redress for "the humiliation, stress, and physical force used on me for no apparent reason. I would also like someone to be fired from there (sic) jobs. I'm very hurt for the officers (sic) actions. For no reason at all I was abused. I would like to be awarded $11 million dollars. For being abused and also for almost being strangled."

During court proceedings, I sat at the back near a row of correctional officers who laughingly remarked, "This clown will be back at Rikers one day." The court dismissed all charges against the plaintiffs and did not award damages. Two years later, Damon filed another suit in federal court for $3 million stating "I was assaulted by twenty or more officers at C-73--one of the jails--(and) taken to an area out of view of other inmates and assaulted by Captain R. and then he ordered his men to 'Get him!' The officers assaulted me and called me 'nigger,' 'punk,' and 'faggot.'"

Damon received $750 upon agreement that he would take no further action in the matter.

Stop and search

On rare occasions, I traveled to Rikers after working 10 or more hours as senior editor for a national women's magazine. One evening, while enroute to the HDM, COs, accompanied by German shepherd dogs, ordered us off the bus and directed us to line up against the wall of a nearby building. It was a random drug search. If the dogs sniffed drugs, the visitor would be arrested. Quietly, the other passengers exited and shuffled over to the wall; however, I was tired and pissed.

We had been searched in Visit Control, and we would be searched again at HDM. Why did we have to submit to this unexpected intrusion? I refused. A CO warned me that I would forfeit the right to visit Damon if I did not consent to the search. I did not comply, so he terminated my visit and drove me back to the main reception area. I imagined Damon's disappointment when I did not show up.

Visitors not welcome

At Rikers, there was no effort to make visitors feel comfortable or welcome. COs seemed to consider us as suspect as the inmates we visited.If the needs of visitors were of little concern, I reasoned, how much worse were conditions for those in custody. Horror stories of inmate suicides, gang wars, prolonged solitary confinement, poor sanitation, and roach and rodent infestations have plagued Rikers for years.

The shutdown is long overdue. Hopefully, the “new” jails (to be constructed in each of four boroughs) will provide safer, cleaner, and more humane environments for those awaiting trial or transport to upstate prisons, or serving sentences of less than a year. I am equally hopeful that accommodations at the new jails will make visits to loved ones less of a nightmare.                

© 2019 wistajohnson.com (Reprint by permission only.)