Addicts need help, not jail terms

A relative, who asked me to only use her middle name, Gail, has spent two stints in Texas prisons for cocaine.

The first time she was sentenced to two years for $5 worth of cocaine after being busted in Dallas’ Oak Cliff. With good behavior she got out after less than a year.

Later, she was busted by the same Oak Cliff cop for the same amount of cocaine — and got 15 years.

A large, masculine woman wanted the petite Gail to be her girlfriend. Now 53, Gail, soft-spoken and tenderhearted mother of two, knew it was fight or be at the woman and her friends’ mercy — including having her possessions taken.

Guards quickly broke it up, and moved Gail to “close custody” for troublemakers. But, she did gain respect and fear — including from the “general population.”

Later, the masculine woman broke out a window in her room, and Gail swept the broken glass into a can. When guards interrogated her, she refused to snitch because she feared being killed.

In a “kangaroo court,” Gail was found guilty of concealing the shards and 300 days of good behavior was rescinded.

She could have gotten out after two years of the 15-year sentence, but ended up serving five years.

“I saw lots of fights,” Gail said. “Mostly between lovers. Gay and male officers would also have relationships with female inmates, and reward them with cigarettes, makeup and sunglasses.”

Many inmates formed families, assuming roles of parents, children, grandparents, aunts and uncles. “It was a way to feel normal,” Gail said.

She also worked in the fields, sometimes killing rats and snakes.

“We raised vegetables and pigs,” Gail said. “Then a company started feeding us a meat substitute. When we gave the pigs our leftovers, some of them died.”

Currently, Gail is “crippled” from taking the anti-depressant Latuda. She wasn’t warned it can weaken muscles — leading to broken foot bones.

(She had previously recovered from being “crippled” by a car while fleeing an abusive boyfriend.)

In prison, she met Roger Staubach, who funded a drug treatment program.

“He helped me finally beat my addiction,” Gail said.

Contact Wendel Sloan at [email protected]