Meeting Alger Hiss: Reflections by a White-Collar Criminal, by Jean Valjean 24601 - Guest Blogger

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for the Days Ahead
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Meeting Alger Hiss: 

Reflections by a 

White-Collar Criminal 

 

by Jean Valjean, 24601 - 

Guest Blogger

 

 

The author (nom de plume) is a member of our Confidential White-Collar/Nonviolent 

Online Support Group, the first in the nation. 

It meets weekly on Tuesday evenings. 

 __________________

“...Thousands of us who have made a mistake recognize the extraordinarily high price for committing a felony——
the sentence not spelled out at sentencing so to speak. The price we pay goes way beyond incarceration and humiliation.  We lose our place in society, our professional careers, friends and sometimes our families . 
We live our lives with the  constant reminder of our mistakes.  Society is not forgiving or felony friendly..." 

 ____________

Many of us have encountered someone when we were younger, only to have that chance meeting take on real meaning decades later. Such is the case with my meeting  Alger Hiss. 

For those of you of a certain age,  Hiss was a Harvard trained lawyer and a foreign service officer in the FDR administration. He was actively involved in the creation of the United Nations and was deemed a rising star in the State Department. He became famous when he was convicted in 1950 of espionage in the 'Pumpkin Papers' case. 

Hiss spent 4 1/2 years at my prison 'alma mater', Lewisburg FCI. He did his time in the penitentiary; I did my time in the camp!

I crossed paths with Mr. Hiss in 1974 when I was fresh out of graduate school.  Hiss was working as a paper salesman for a company in downtown Manhattan where I was temporarily assigned by the company's outside accounting firm.  I had a passing knowledge of Hiss due to his connection to Richard Nixon. In the post mortem of Nixon's presidency the press liked to link Nixon's nastiness early in his career to his merciless persecution of Hiss. 

When I met Mr Hiss, he displayed a solemn dignity despite his unfortunate notoriety.  He was clearly a man of substance and intellect as he smoked his pipe and peppered us young accountants with questions about our careers and work. I remember being puzzled by the fact that this obviously capable and smart individual was now vastly underemployed as a salesman.  One couldn't help being stunned at his new circumstances.  Gone were the trappings of success, power and prestige. At the time, I wondered how he dealt with such a drastic change. What was it like to see his education and experience become totally useless?  What was it like to wake up everyday with the knowledge that his career and reputation, the product of decades of hard work had been destroyed.

Little did I know that I would find myself in the exact same place after being convicted of a white collar crime.  I have found myself asking the same questions forty years later.   And I am certainly not alone in asking these questions.  Thousands of us who have made a mistake recognize the extraordinarily high price for committing a felony----the sentence not spelled out at sentencing so to speak. The price we pay goes way beyond incarceration and financial restitution..  We lose our place in society, our professional careers our networks, our friends and sometimes our families .  We live our lives with the constant reminder of our mistakes. Society is neither forgiving or felony friendly. 

Just like Mr Hiss, we learn very quickly that our life has become a whole new ball game with rules that are sometimes incomprehensible.   By absolute necessity we begin a process that can take years as we rebuild and re-purpose our lives. The disbarred attorney, the doctor who can never practice again, the trusted advisor that can no longer be entrusted all have been busted - thrown off the team. We become ostracized if not outright exiled. 

Virtually alone, we are shrouded  in the dense 'fog of felony' to find a new path forward.  We begin to connect with new values, new friends and search for forgiveness of ourselves and others. I assume our journey is much like the one Alger Hiss made.  In this process one's identity is transformed and place in the world is reset.  Our old life evaporates like mist in the early morning. But it is through this process that we make peace with ourselves, those we love and what we once loved.

I think that when I met  Mr Hiss that he had successfully completed his journey. He made peace with where life had taken him----his new normal was accepted and he lived life on new terms and with new values. Through the process of self renewal  he was able to move on from his life in diplomatic corps to something totally different.  In his later life, he wrote books, became a sought after lecturer and even was reinstated by the Massachusetts Bar. But it was a long, arduous and uneven process of redefining his life. We are all on this well traveled road. 

Those of us who have committed a white collar crime, come home to start a unique and existential journey. But we are not alone. We can learn from other fellow travelers like Alger Hiss and countless others.
   
I encourage all Fellow Travelers to add your comments to this blog. 

_____________

Donations

We are grateful for all donations this past year to our Ministries. These donations enable us to grow, reach out and serve this community for which there is far too little understanding, compassion, empathy and accurate information.  Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc. is a CT Religious Corp. with 501c3 status -

all donations are tax deductible to the extent permitted by law. We hope you will consider making a donation to our appeal this year.  Donations can be made by credit card/PayPal here, at the "Donate" button on on our site, prisonist.org or by sending your check payable to: "Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc." P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883.  We have enclosed an addressed envelope for your use. Thank you.

__________ 

 

If you, a friend or a family member are experiencing a white-collar or nonviolent incarceration issue, please contact us and we will promptly send you an information package by mail, email or via Dropbox.

The darkest days of a person's life can be a

time of renewal and hope

____________

Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc.

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Minister/Director
jgrant@prisonist.org
(o) 203-769-1096
(m) 203-339-5887
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Lynn Springer, Founding Advocate, Innocent Spouse & Children Project
lspringer@prisonist.org

(203) 536-5508

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Supervising Minister
stjosephmissionchurch@gmail.com
(201) 982-2206

Jacqueline Polverari, MBA, MSW, Advocate
Women's Incarceration Issues
jpolverari@prisonist.org
(203) 671-5139

George Bresnan, Advocate, Ex-Pats
gbresnan@prisonist.org
(203) 609-5088

Jim Gabal, Development
jgabal@prisonist.org
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Babz Rawls Ivy, Media Contact
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(203) 645-9278   

Surviving a "Max" Prison, by Lee Gutierrez - Guest Blogger

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for the Days Ahead
Blogs, Guest Blogs & News 

 

 

Surviving a "Max" Prison

 

By Lee Gutierrez - Guest Blogger

 

 

 

STARTING, prison with a "MAX" classification. Placed me in one of the most aggressive and hostile environments created by man. A maximum security facility is where isolation and punishment is the "norm." The officers go out of their way to de-humanize the inmate, by a heightened atmosphere of constant fear.  Using offensive insults, relentless disrespect and threat of violent abuse.  All in hope of getting a reaction, a chance for a mob of officers to put "boots and batons" to work. Shock and awe are the intent. The results are swollen faces, broken bones and sometimes death. 

 

This atmosphere of hate breeds more hate. The average inmate who has made bad decisions or wrong choices, but with no violent streak within, is conditioned to be violent. He loses his trust of people, thinks everyone is out to get him, becoming aggressive in nature. Their desperation and survival instincts take over stripping them of their humanity. 

 

This mutation of character is something I strain to prevent from seeping in and infecting my soul. I pray that this horrific experience can be left behind, discarded as a defective shell to be forgotten.  

 

I have always believed in the God of my parents. Having been raised Catholic, my higher power is a loving power.  He shows me how to have compassion for others, fairness in judging with patience and clarity when reacting to potentially violent conflict.  He is not a mystery to me. I accept that the path of Jesus is the way to a fulfilling life. What I didn't have was a personal relationship with Him. I never attempted a direct conversation or used His strength or His love to protect me. 

 

In the last two years I believe I have been shown signs. Symbolism of how people react to this menacing environment.  I've witnessed nature, more specifically, birds that have been trapped in our environment. One particular event that has affected me, I will share with you.

 

IN THIS MAX, we are given one hour of recreation. If we have no programs to attend we will spend up to twenty-two hours in your cell each day. So most inmates take advantage of that hour. In snow, rain, at night or in one hundred degree heat, we are in the courtyard. The courtyard, or "yard," is the typical reference for the area in the center of the compound surrounded by thirty-foot brick wall. On top of the walls there is a three-foot mesh fence. The perimeter of that fence is topped with thirty-inch diameter of concertine (razor) wire.  A turret stands high on the east side of the yard with eager snipers ready to "lock and load." 

 

The real estate is divided by imaginary lines, segregating the various cultures and groups. The Latinos are near the handball courts, the LGBT congregate under the east side TV, the white dudes hang at the north side tables. What appear to be gang oriented folks are by the tables on the northwest corner. The common ground is the west side where telephone banks stretch along and the south is the weight pit with the "sports" TV just north. The boundaries are cut and dry.  Where exactly I fit in was the million dollar question. As an American with no real "street smarts," I felt like an enigma. The various leaders of each territory didn't know what to make of me. I was an island in hostile waters. 

 

Taking the advice from an acquaintance whom I met in A.A. prior to starting prison, his advice was to not stand still.  He told me not to hang with one group or the other.  He had been incarcerated and had learned this lesson the hard way. He explained that is was better to simply walk the perimeter of the yard, jog, even run and avoid people that would try to stop and talk to me. Their intentions are to hustle me, or worse. The expression he used was "to be motorcycle." 

 

He said, traveling alone will show strength without having to prove myself. Most men are there just doing their time and want out. After a few months I will see who is real, who is a creep, and who is dangerous. He told me that eventually my motorcycle will turn into a car. He said that I will walk with people whose minds think alike.  I took his advice and for the most part it worked. I must remember to tank him when next we meet. 

 

THE EVENT.  Sometime in early November 2013, I was still in motorcycle mode.  My routine of cross-training include exercises such as shoulder dips, pull up bar and wide base push ups. The day was blustery, wind bursts came from the north side driving through the yard, smashing against the (thirty-foot) wall creating a vertical jet stream. I noticed all types of birds playing in the jet stream dive bombing, chasing other birds as if at playing chicken.  Seagulls from the Hudson River were the most daring, scraping along the wall, pulling up and away just before the menacing concertine wire. 

 

While jogging the perimeter, I heard a tinny bang, then high pitch squawks. Turning towards the direction of the noise I saw a frightening view. A pigeon was caught in the concertine wire, flapping its wings. A seagull was hanging a few feet from the captured pigeon, the gull's wing embedded in the wire; the more it struggled to free itself the more damage it was causing. His bright grey feathers over its wing started to spill red. 

 

I gathered from what the inmates who were directly under the birds screamed that the birds collided in mid-air, bouncing into the wire. The scene became a magnet, attracting people from each group. Watching both birds struggle was like spilling blood in the water - a shark frenzy was gathering. 

 

Trying to act indifferent to the situation, I pushed through my urge to stare at this violent spectacle. As I looped around with each lap, the mob grew.  No longer able to resist my morbid instinct, I went back. I couldn't divert my eyes. For the first ten minutes both pigeon and seagull frantically fought their capture The pigeon inside the circular concertine wire attempting, slapping the top of its wings under the razor, catching, pulling, tearing feathers, going nowhere, gaining no altitude. The seagull was worse off, it had lost its footing, its weight driving the razor deeper into its wing. After a few moments, the C.O.s called, "Rec is over.  Line Up!" The yard closed. Leaving the yard with no spectators to see the fate of the birds. 

 

The next day at Rec having started my workout, I forgot the event from the day before.  Thirsty form my run, I went to the water fountain to quench my thirst.  Looking up the seagull popped into view, hanging from its wing motionless.  Its poor wing had been hyper-extended and was covered in red. Head and body pointing doenward, it was apparent that its wing had snapped. It must have suffered for hours. 

 

To my astonishment, the pigeon was perched right where it was left and was now standing in the wire perfectly still. It had amazingly survived its capture. It appeared calm. Continuing my laps I couldn't help but notice that the pigeon would bob its head left - and then right - as if looking for a way out. Near the end of Rec I noticed that the bird, no longer caged in the wire, was perched on the rooftop. The bird had taken a simple leap of faith forward and was free. Still, it sat on the rooftop not moving. I think it did not realize that it was free from capture, that it was free to fly away. After a few moments, it began limping; apparently its feet had been injured. All of a sudden it spread its wings.  Flapping like a drunken sailor it took off, flying to and fro, getting its bearings. Finally, the pigeon darted away in a straight line.  Away. Away, blending into the vista. Then POOF -it was gone. 

 

TO THIS DAY, I still carry the image of these birds embedded in memory.  The wonderment of of these creatures, God's creatures and how fate played out for them. Two different species thrown into a hostile environment. Both seemed doomed to suffer a long painful end. How can it be that one suffered and died a miserable death, and the other suffered but survived? Not only survive, but had the strength to shake off its misery and continue its life with peace in its natural surroundings? 

 

For me, the answer must be God. He truly works in mysterious ways. 

 

This event  has helped me make sense of how to survive and even thrive while incarcerated. During my time in a Max, I witnessed both seagull and pigeon. There was the inmate (seagull) who refused to to give up his way of thinking. He resists conforming to a peaceful, less aggressive way of dealing with life. Like the gull, he chases what he thinks is valuable to him, with no care for the consequences. Even when caught, convicted and incarcerated, he continues to think he has control over his environment.  He takes chances, hustles other inmates, steals and extorts. He risks his life by pushing back on the officers when he is disrespected. As he seagull does, this inmate fights the system lashing out as hard as he can, refusing to accept and surrender his will to his higher power. He remains broken, won't change, he and others will die. 

THANKS TO GOD, the other inmate does as the pigeon does, even having lived a life of chaos, chasing what he desires, not thinking of the consequences. But once he realizes that he is captive, he sits quietly rethinking how he might respond in his new, more aggressive environment. He accepts the consequences of his actions and patiently waits to be released.  He takes this leap of faith. 

 

A Note from the Author: 

 

I would like to thank you for taking the time to read my message. My goal is to help the next person, by sharing my incarceration and redemption journey. I've opened my heart and mond to my Higher Power. If you allow yourself the gift of God in your life, you will NEVER be alone.

 

Please let me know your thoughts. If you have any experience you are willing to share with me, please write. Let us start a dialogue in which we can help each other get through the tough times, and spread hope to the hopeless. 

 

Lee's current address:

German (Lee) Gutierrez

DIN: 13-A-4313

Woodbourne C.F.

P.O. Box 1000

Woodbourne, NY 12788

 

_____________

Donations

We are grateful for all donations this past year to our Ministries. These donations enable us to grow, reach out and serve this community for which there is far too little understanding, compassion, empathy and accurate information.  Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc. is a CT Religious Corp. with 501c3 status -

all donations are tax deductible to the extent permitted by law. We hope you will consider making a donation to our appeal this year.  Donations can be made by credit card/PayPal here, at the "Donate" button on on our site, prisonist.org or by sending your check payable to: "Progressive Prison Ministries, Inc." P.O. Box 1232, Weston, Connecticut 06883.  We have enclosed an addressed envelope for your use. Thank you.

__________ 

 

If you, a friend or a family member are experiencing a white-collar or nonviolent incarceration issue, please contact us and we will promptly send you an information package by mail, email or via Dropbox.

The darkest days of a person's life can be a

time of renewal and hope

____________

Progressive Prison Project/  

Innocent Spouse & Children Project

Rev. Jeff Grant, JD, M Div, Minister/Director
jgrant@prisonist.org
(o) 203-769-1096
(m) 203-339-5887
Twitter
Facebook
Linked In
Pinterest
Google+

Tumblr

Lynn Springer, Founding Advocate, Innocent Spouse & Children Project
lspringer@prisonist.org

(203) 536-5508

George Bresnan, Advocate, Ex-Pats
gbresnan@prisonist.org
(203) 609-5088

Jim Gabal, Development
jgabal@prisonist.org
(203) 858-2865

Babz Rawls Ivy, Media Contact
mediababz@gmail.com