My pen-pal's condition deteriorated to the point of serious paranoia and other issues, such as claims about having transmitters surgically placed in his brain during some other kind of prison hospital procedure. We did keep writing and some letters from him seemed normal and others bizarre. After I had my first child, I decided I preferred that he not know where I lived. For a while I had a P. O. Box, when living on the Navajo Nation, but when we moved into town and had a street address, I decided not to give him my address. I found out about his demise later--a sad story that has stayed with me. I think I've kept his letters as a way of honoring his memory. He was caught in the system--first in a war we never should have fought (Viet Nam) and then in a prison system that punished him, including solitary confinement, and never, to my knowledge, treated his PTSD and other mental health issues with anything but prison rather than healthcare solutions. The whole story has yet to be written....
A thought: this story of your pen pal could be told as a second narrative happening or reflecting your own personal memoir or story...like Shakespeare always did; ie, a main story line with a second story going on that reflected the main story. Not well said but I know you know what I'm referring to. He was a victim, clearly, and didn't make it out, if you will; while you, who could have stayed a follower of a certain religious creed, extricated yourself and went on to declare your own independence, go to grad school & become a professor! The compare & contrast thing.
Ha! I used to read the Daily Nexus and imbibe at the English Department bar there in Goleta. I enjoyed this story especially because I once befriended an older man and would stop to talk with him and maybe have what he called "cowboy coffee" as I walked to work. Once he asked me to buy groceries for him but I didn't follow through, something for which I've long been ashamed.
I've written letters to inmates occasionally over the years. More than one a romantic interest of sorts (none of which went anywhere, fortunately). One a family member. That said, I was an inveterate letter writer (likely nurtured by watching my mom sit at her typewriter tapping out letters to my dad who was stationed overseas). In the 50s and 60s (hell! 70s-80s-90s!) letter writing was a luscious pastime. I wrote to everyone--friends, boyfriends, acquaintances, etc. Besides the telephone there really wasn't much besides letter writing to stay in touch. Getting a letter in the mail was a heart-thumping experience. Especially if it was a thick envelope!
Suggestions to letter writers--It's okay to start with crap about the weather, but don't stay there. Your words need to resonate with intimacy (not physically romantic, though that is sometimes appropriate), rather craft a reflective conversation between you and the recipient. Avoid assessments like "cool," "good," "awesome," "exciting," and the like. Say why something or someone lS that adjective. That's the intimate part. Also--don't end your letter at the bottom of a page and sign your name on the final otherwise blank page. Better to squeeze in a tiny send-off and signature than to waste an entire page with nothing but your name.
I saved letters for decades (organized by time, divided by sender). I had boxes and boxes of letters (not as many as 45 and certainly not of international interest). I finally decided they needed to be shredded. Same with more than a few of my journals. I was pretty bitter and hollow with disappointment for large chunks of time.
Saved letters? Yes. I'm now writing a book (an ancestral memoir). Much of it comes from saved letters, like the one my little sister wrote me when I was away, in 1966. Our lives changed forever then, but I have the memories.
Hi Victoria, Yes. I have saved letters! And I have boxes of journals, too. My journals go back to age 15, more than fifty years ago. Although some years the writing was sparse when I was working full time. I have burned letters, and took a few boxes to the county land fill. Still, I kept many. Some are from high school friends and my from grandmothers. My mother was a letter writer and so was her mother. I believe I would be depressed and worse for a long time if I destroyed too much. And yet there are boxes, boxes, boxes... Glad to read about your experience. I feel a common thread. Thank you for sharing.
Those of us of a certain age have rich common threads. Letter-writing certainly provided an opportunity to clarify thoughts, granularly examine situations, and celebrate heart-connections that shaped who we were (and are).
Hi Andi, Although my story is not the same as yours, I too was a college student when I met a prisoner through a friend of a friend in 1979. He was serving a life sentence in Canon City, Colorado, and I was living in Alamosa. I was 24 and he was 26. We were both starved for human connection when we began writing. The letters quickly became intimate, and healing, as we revealed our life stories to each other. I was a regular visitor, I drove 138 miles each way, every other Sunday. Our relationship changed significantly through the decades, but we kept in touch. He was out of prison and living in the Denver area when he died in 2021, at age 67. Our stories let others know they are not alone.
Prison is isolating for both the prisoner who is locked "inside" and friends and family in the "outside" world. Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you for sharing your story. You're also welcome to share your name and the name of your book if you want (since I happen to know both you and the book!) One of my readers might also like to read your story. Recently there was a news story about a man freed from prison, exonerated after many years, because the woman writing to him believed in his innocence. I think she got The Innocence Project involved in his case. I'll see if I can find a link to the details, or if anyone else knows, please add a link to this newsletter!
Thanks, Andi. Your article about the prison pen pal made me sad that I and many others have almost lost the art of letter writing. Maybe I'll try again in my old age.
Hi Andi - Enjoyed your story a lot, but I was too much of a simple country gal to have ever considered writing to a prisoner! You didn't happen to know Christine Hintz at Santa Barbara did you? Looking forward to reading your other entries here!
I so appreciate reading the vivid snippets of your history! Keep it up!
I enjoyed your story. Interesting that somehow you never met your pen pal in person although you said you did think about it.
My pen-pal's condition deteriorated to the point of serious paranoia and other issues, such as claims about having transmitters surgically placed in his brain during some other kind of prison hospital procedure. We did keep writing and some letters from him seemed normal and others bizarre. After I had my first child, I decided I preferred that he not know where I lived. For a while I had a P. O. Box, when living on the Navajo Nation, but when we moved into town and had a street address, I decided not to give him my address. I found out about his demise later--a sad story that has stayed with me. I think I've kept his letters as a way of honoring his memory. He was caught in the system--first in a war we never should have fought (Viet Nam) and then in a prison system that punished him, including solitary confinement, and never, to my knowledge, treated his PTSD and other mental health issues with anything but prison rather than healthcare solutions. The whole story has yet to be written....
A thought: this story of your pen pal could be told as a second narrative happening or reflecting your own personal memoir or story...like Shakespeare always did; ie, a main story line with a second story going on that reflected the main story. Not well said but I know you know what I'm referring to. He was a victim, clearly, and didn't make it out, if you will; while you, who could have stayed a follower of a certain religious creed, extricated yourself and went on to declare your own independence, go to grad school & become a professor! The compare & contrast thing.
Ha! I used to read the Daily Nexus and imbibe at the English Department bar there in Goleta. I enjoyed this story especially because I once befriended an older man and would stop to talk with him and maybe have what he called "cowboy coffee" as I walked to work. Once he asked me to buy groceries for him but I didn't follow through, something for which I've long been ashamed.
I've written letters to inmates occasionally over the years. More than one a romantic interest of sorts (none of which went anywhere, fortunately). One a family member. That said, I was an inveterate letter writer (likely nurtured by watching my mom sit at her typewriter tapping out letters to my dad who was stationed overseas). In the 50s and 60s (hell! 70s-80s-90s!) letter writing was a luscious pastime. I wrote to everyone--friends, boyfriends, acquaintances, etc. Besides the telephone there really wasn't much besides letter writing to stay in touch. Getting a letter in the mail was a heart-thumping experience. Especially if it was a thick envelope!
Suggestions to letter writers--It's okay to start with crap about the weather, but don't stay there. Your words need to resonate with intimacy (not physically romantic, though that is sometimes appropriate), rather craft a reflective conversation between you and the recipient. Avoid assessments like "cool," "good," "awesome," "exciting," and the like. Say why something or someone lS that adjective. That's the intimate part. Also--don't end your letter at the bottom of a page and sign your name on the final otherwise blank page. Better to squeeze in a tiny send-off and signature than to waste an entire page with nothing but your name.
I saved letters for decades (organized by time, divided by sender). I had boxes and boxes of letters (not as many as 45 and certainly not of international interest). I finally decided they needed to be shredded. Same with more than a few of my journals. I was pretty bitter and hollow with disappointment for large chunks of time.
Has anyone else saved letters?
Saved letters? Yes. I'm now writing a book (an ancestral memoir). Much of it comes from saved letters, like the one my little sister wrote me when I was away, in 1966. Our lives changed forever then, but I have the memories.
Hi Victoria, Yes. I have saved letters! And I have boxes of journals, too. My journals go back to age 15, more than fifty years ago. Although some years the writing was sparse when I was working full time. I have burned letters, and took a few boxes to the county land fill. Still, I kept many. Some are from high school friends and my from grandmothers. My mother was a letter writer and so was her mother. I believe I would be depressed and worse for a long time if I destroyed too much. And yet there are boxes, boxes, boxes... Glad to read about your experience. I feel a common thread. Thank you for sharing.
Those of us of a certain age have rich common threads. Letter-writing certainly provided an opportunity to clarify thoughts, granularly examine situations, and celebrate heart-connections that shaped who we were (and are).
Hi Andi, Although my story is not the same as yours, I too was a college student when I met a prisoner through a friend of a friend in 1979. He was serving a life sentence in Canon City, Colorado, and I was living in Alamosa. I was 24 and he was 26. We were both starved for human connection when we began writing. The letters quickly became intimate, and healing, as we revealed our life stories to each other. I was a regular visitor, I drove 138 miles each way, every other Sunday. Our relationship changed significantly through the decades, but we kept in touch. He was out of prison and living in the Denver area when he died in 2021, at age 67. Our stories let others know they are not alone.
Prison is isolating for both the prisoner who is locked "inside" and friends and family in the "outside" world. Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you for sharing your story. You're also welcome to share your name and the name of your book if you want (since I happen to know both you and the book!) One of my readers might also like to read your story. Recently there was a news story about a man freed from prison, exonerated after many years, because the woman writing to him believed in his innocence. I think she got The Innocence Project involved in his case. I'll see if I can find a link to the details, or if anyone else knows, please add a link to this newsletter!
June 23, 2023
Hi Andi, thanks for the offer to say more. My title is After the Murder, Mercury HeartLink, © 2011, and my author name is Mary Elizabeth Van Pelt. The book is available on Kindle and from Amazon.com. // I don’t know the specific Innocence Project case you mentioned, but there are truly remarkable stories of exoneration after wrongful conviction.
Lamar Johnson and penpal Ginny Schrappen https://www.cbsnews.com/news/lamar-johnson-freed-wrongful-conviction-meets-pen-pal-ginny-schrappen-decades/
Thanks, Andi. Your article about the prison pen pal made me sad that I and many others have almost lost the art of letter writing. Maybe I'll try again in my old age.
Ann
You write so well, Andi. :) A very enjoyable read.
Hi Andi - Enjoyed your story a lot, but I was too much of a simple country gal to have ever considered writing to a prisoner! You didn't happen to know Christine Hintz at Santa Barbara did you? Looking forward to reading your other entries here!
Thank you, Marilyn. I don't think I knew Christine. Those USCB days are so long ago and far away!