Free Alcatraz by David Ward

had already lost almost all of its privileges available in standard penitentiaries, the threat of being disciplined for talking did not have much meaning. This vestige of the old penal philosophy was scrapped a year or so after the prison opened, when one day in the dining hall all the inmates began talking at once.
    In addition to having comparatively fewer opportunities for engaging in the daily interaction with other prisoners that forged social bonds, built friendships, and sometimes produced conflict, inmates did not form relationships with guards—the people with whom they had the most contact or, in solitary confinement, the only contact. Harrell explained how inmates typically viewed the custodial staff and why their interactions were limited:
    Relationships between inmates and officers were cool—the majority of the inmates had very little to do with the officers. I didn’t care for any of the guards and I certainly didn’t want any kind of friendly relationship. The general climate at Alcatraz was not conducive to friendly relations between the guards and prisoners. That is not to say that the entire personnel was lacking compassion—there were a few guards that would give prisoners a fair shake but I arrived at Alcatraz believing that the personnel and prisoners were on different sides of the fence and I left feeling the same way.
    Maurice Ordway, then a junior officer, had a remarkably similar view of “fraternizing” with prisoners:
    I do not believe in fraternizing with prisoners, when an officer does so, he has everything to lose and nothing at all to gain. He is subjecting himself to “suspicion” from his superiors, even though the object may be anything but what it appears to be. A man [guard] who fraternizes with the men [inmates] under him only brings contempt upon hisself
[sic]
. . . . All any officer has to do is remember that he is on one side of the fenceand the other man is on the other side, there can be nothing in common between the two. I believe in staying on my side and seeing that he stays on his. 18
    Predictably, the prison’s enforced isolation, combined with the mind-numbing monotony of daily life, tended to exaggerate the importance of anything unusual—any event that broke the routine or offered the possibility of something different. All interviewees for this project remembered and enjoyed describing the extraordinary events that occurred during their time on the Rock: escape attempts, protests, demonstrations, and fights. These were dramatic events in any context, but they were particularly notable in a prison where so little else occurred, where staff were concerned primarily with preventing anything from happening that they had not planned. On four occasions during the prison’s first fifteen years, larger-scale excitement was provided by the murder of one prisoner by another. Besides providing drama, these incidents allowed for unlimited speculation because the motives for the lethal violence were often obscure. In addition, the subsequent prosecution and trial of assailants continued the saga and sustained interest long after the actual event.
    Even relatively mundane events could capture the attention of inmates as long as they were unusual or infrequent. The departure of a staff member or the arrival of a new “chain,” or group of prisoners, was usually cause for lengthy discussion. (The latter event was cause for hopeful anticipation because it also signified the likely departure of a few of the Rock’s residents who, until they were called out of their cells, did not know that they had been given transfers to other prisons.) Scuttlebutt spread among inmates and rank-and-file staff when an officer’s job was terminated. When new employees arrived, particularly anyone at the middle and upper management levels, it prompted much speculation by prisoners and officers about the qualities and character of the replacement with whom they would be dealing. When a certain