This morning I visited the jail again.  As usual on Thursday mornings, I went to Division 8, the hospital section of the jail.  In case you didn’t know, the jail is where you go when you’re waiting for your trial.  Prison is where you go once you’ve had a trial and been given a sentence.  Anyway… I went to Division 8.  This time, though, I went with my new hearing aids.  When you have new hearing aids, I’ve found out, it takes a minute to get used to them.  Everything sounds so loud, and it’s startling.  You feel after a while like your hair is standing on end.

So, this morning I drive over to the jail and park in the lot for staff.  That’s one of the perks of being a staff chaplain for the jail, you get a parking space.  Today, the wind was blowing pretty hard, and cold, too.  Of course, I left my phone in the car since you can’t bring phones into the jail.  Sadly, the volume control for the hearing aids is in an app in the phone.  So, I couldn’t turn them down.  It was like walking in a freezing wind tunnel just getting across the street into the jail!

I get into the jail, and walk to Division 8.  There’s a security entrance, then you walk about a block or so inside the jail, but outside (since you’re between buildings).  Again, walking in a freezing wind tunnel that was whistling like mad!  I get into the building for Division 8 and ask if I can go upstairs.  They’ve been short staffed lately, and I’m supposed to have someone walk with me from the entryway to the 2^nd floor where I sign in.  Today, and for the past few months, I was told to go up unaccompanied.  I went up and signed in.  One of the sergeants told me that it was unlikely that I’d have someone to walk me around, since they were already short staffed and 2 officers had gone home.  I went over to sit down where I usually sit and wait for an officer.

Anyway, I got to thinking and I stood up and went to the officer’s desk who controls access to the whole building.  “Listen,” I told her, “I’ve been coming here to see one particular person for three weeks now, and haven’t been able to go see him.  Can’t I just find out where he is and go see him?”  “No,” she answered me, you need to have a green ID to be unescorted in the jail.”  “Ok,” I answered her, and went back to wait for an escort.  After a few minutes she called me over, “The sergeant told me you can go up unaccompanied.”  “Great,” I answered her and headed over to the elevator to get to the 4^th floor.

I stepped through the double metal doors onto the 4^th floor corridor and looked over to the tier I was supposed to visit.  I saw a bunch of officers with what looked like military gear running into the tier.  “My goodness,” I thought, “is it a raid, or what?”  I could also hear all kinds of sounds, things like yelling and cursing, doors banging, distant swearing, fans running, and so on.  It was loud, loud, loud!  I was a little unnerved.

They usually send someone around with me because some of the people in Division 8 are mentally ill.  You never know when they might want to pop a person in the mouth.  Today, there was nobody to send with me.  They were short staffed.  That makes the job of moving people to court for their hearings more difficult.  It also makes the whole place more dangerous.  What happens if the people in the building decide to have a revolt?  Plenty of people have been stabbed in the jail… oh my.

All this is rolling around in the back of my head as I walk down the corridor.  I took a breath and approached a tier and banged on the window.  The officer inside opened the door.  “Ask if anyone wants to see the chaplain.”  “Ok,” he said, and shouted, “anyone want to see the chaplain?”  The guys lined up and came out one by one.  I did a prayer or gave them a Daily Bread magazine, or wrote notes about wanting a Koran or whatever.  Then I realized that if I was a little nervous, the officers must be, too.  So, after the last person I asked the officer if he wanted a joke.  “Sure,” he answered, “I could use a joke.”

“Why did the Star Treck and the Star Wars fan decide to get a separation?” I asked him.  “Why?”  “They both thought they needed more space.”  He laughed, “I love Star Treck.  Thanks for the joke.”  “Have a good day,” I answered him, and went to the next tier.  It was much the same as the first one… this time one of the guys wanted to go to confession.  It was a good thing I had my hearing aids in!  At least he didn’t have to shout his sins.

It was scary in the jail without an officer next to me.  Then I thought about it a bit.  The only thing the officers have to protect themselves is their batons and handcuffs and radios and physical strength and training.

I have God’s grace.  I’ll take that any day!