I note that you printed my former letter under the heading of the “Sorrows of Carl Countryman.” Thank you for printing it under any heading. It has resulted in an inquiry as to conditions.
Here are the facts: A plate steel enclosure about 20 feet by 16 feet is divided in the middle by a runway about 6 feet wide. From this runway open four cells, approximately 8 square feet. At one end of the cell is a barred door entering the runway; the other end, an opening 4 feet wide and the height of the cell is protected by heavy steel bars. On each side of the cell are two cots, the one above the other. They are made of steel with a bed of steel bands and inch and a quarter wide and perhaps a sixteenth of an inch thick. These cots are folded up against the side of the cell when not in use.
In the runway, are one toilet and one wash basin at one end and at the other end is the door opening from the corridor. Nothing prevents the odor of the toilet from spreading through the cell house. The wash basin is clogged up and wash water must be emptied into the toilet; the toilet flusher is out of order and the toilet must be flushed in the same manner. No facilities are applied for keeping clean—no soap, no towel, no bath. Modern penal methods demand that the prisoner should be forced to bathe; here he is forbidden by the conditions to do so.
In the same cell house, using indiscriminately the same basin and towel are negroes and at the present time, three white men. Four of these negroes are accused of killing human beings. One at least has a bad case of venereal disease. There is no protection for the innocent citizen falsely accused against the odor that assails his nostrils, the vile songs and language nor the infection lurking in the feeble attempt at personal cleanliness. Her is no opportunity for exercise, no time of admission to the corridor, no reading matter to be secured for love nor money to crowd out the noise and stench of impurity and filth. I will say that so far as I know there are no vermin. I was attacked by two bugs but I conquered them. Should these conditions be entitled “The Sorrows of Carl Countryman” or “The Shame of the People”?
At the same time, I am getting along nicely. I have acquired some paper. I have my own thoughts that appear to me brilliant and for me the sky of life is still blue and fair. I find I have friends loyal and true. If those I thought were my friends have not responded, I have not lost them, I simply face the truth of the non-existence.
What distresses me is this: In the same cell is a man, simple, unlettered, brought here form Mayodan. He says he was arrested without a warrant and confined without a hearing. I do not know about that but I do know that he is nearly blind and naked. He has what is known as wild hairs; that is, his eye lashes grow in instead of out. Therefore, when not attended to, the hairs have the same effect as a hair in the eye. He is in constant pain and the imperfect eyesight he has left is in jeopardy. I wonder if this is humane and civilized America. I wonder if there is no escape or relief for this poor man, no hope for the medical attention he needs to keep his impaired sight. Please, Mr. Editor, if you have no interest in my welfare or innocence do not let this man suffer without calling the attention of the public strongly to his case. His name is William Fulk.
--Carl Countryman, in Daily News
P.S.—We are now being regaled with the pathetic and elevating song, “I’s Going to Shoot My Wife to See Her Fall.”
Caswell Jail, Yanceyville
From the front page of The Reidsville Review, Monday, April 9, 1923
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