The Never-Ending Drug Hustle Behind Bars
I was on the phone with my wife as usual on a Saturday evening a few months ago when my prison’s P.A. system crackled and a stressed-out voice announced: “All rec yards are closed; offenders will report back to their dorms immediately.”
Something big was clearly afoot, and everyone rushed to the front windows to get a better view. People spoke in hushed voices, not the usual clowning, speculating about what might have happened.
It turns out that eight people had overdosed at once, most likely on “spice.” They passed out on the recreation yard, laid out side-by-side on the concrete while nurses and guards ran around with stretchers and wheelchairs trying to keep control and render medical assistance, in that order.
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As far as I know, one of them is now dead, while seven have since recovered and were transferred to other
