Prison Hospice

Given that 1 out of every 32 is under "Correctional Supervision" (that's 6.7 Million people), it's not surprising that there is a large geriatric population in jail. More than 3,000 inmates die from natural causes in prison each year, so many prisons are starting to develop hospice programmes staffed with inmate volunteers.

As courts have handed down longer sentences and tightened parole, about 75 prisons have started hospice programs, half of them using inmate volunteers, according to the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization. Susan Atkins, a follower of Charles Manson, died last month in hospice at the Central California Women’s Facility at Chowchilla after being denied compassionate release.

Joan Smith, deputy superintendent of health services at the Coxsackie prison, said the hospice program here initially met with resistance from prison guards. “They were very resentful about people in prison for horrendous crimes getting better medical care than their families,” including round-the-clock companionship in their final days, Ms. Smith said. (source)

Not surprisingly, the experience has become transformative for the volunteers in a way that the rest of their prison experience has not been.

Benny Lee, 38, has spent half his life in prison for manslaughter, and for most of that time, he said, “the only thing I regretted was getting caught.” Four months ago he began as a hospice volunteer, feeling he needed a change. “I’m trying to offer some payback,” he said. (source)

Recently I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in many years. Turns out, several years ago he spent 18 months in jail for DUI and Cocaine possession. He says that it was the best thing that ever happened to him--really turned his life around. He told me that when you are sent to prison you really have a choice--you can waste the time passing the hours or you can use it to improve yourself mentally, spiritually, or physically. He took advantage of the time to change himself and was glad for it. He also said that prison is like anywhere else, there are good people and bad people and you can survive if you make wise choices.

This situation of the Prison Hospice programmes reminds me of the cemetery in New York where they bury the abandoned dead. If they can't find a family to claim remains, they are eventually buried in a cemetery which is maintained my prisoners. Being on the cemetery detail is considered a privilege, as the inmates take the care of the cemetery very seriously.

-t

Tay with the Cops

This evening, after work, I went on a ride-along with the police. I showed up at 53-Division and they partnered me up with Sergeant for the rest of his shift. First, they ran my name through the computer to make sure I didn't have any outsanding warrants ("I see your house got broken into...") They gave me a bullet proof vest to wear, showed me how to use the radio in case of emergency, and basically said, "don't get shot." The Sergeants ride around on patrol, but they have a different role than the regular patrol cars. The regular cars are responding to 911 calls in order of urgency. The Sergeants respond to certain types of calls (in the case of a death, for example) to make sure that the first responders are doing things correctly. They really aren't supposed to get "in the mix" too much if they can avoid it.

Still, as we sat waiting for something interesting to come up the officer was keeping his eye out. He was running license plates from passing cars--a habit he picked up on his patrol days. He learned how to quickly type them into the police computer with one hand. The computer also has mapping software that shows where all the patrol cars are and what calls people are responding to, etc. As we were driving around a BMW went through a red light right in front of us. Of course the lights went on and we pulled the guy over.

The Sergeant explained that he rarely gives out traffic tickets, and even had to dig to find his pad, but he couldn't let such a flagrant violation go. He said the driver apologized and was gracious about excepting his $180 ticket.

The windows were down the whole time, and often we were going rather slowly. "You can drive as slow as you want; no one will say anything. It's better because if you drive too fast you can't see anything and you can't hear anything."

This officer has sharp eyes, and noticed a guy walking on the sidewalk near a liquor store that looked out of place. He immediately pulled the car around and started to pull into a parking lot after him. As he did so, he took off his seat belt. I thought that this was so he could jump out quickly, but actually, he told me, it was more because if something happened he might need to get to his "tools" quickly.

Once in the lot, we lost sight of the person of interest. When we found him again, we could see that he was wearing a blue bandana (a gang sign) and also had a black tear tattoo under his right eye. This is a gang tat, and normally it means one murder for every tear. The cop told me later that his impression was that the guy was either in a gang or crazy. As it turns out, he was a bit of both. I thought the guy might run, and so did the cop, which is why he stayed about 12 or 15 feet away from him. "If the guy runs for it, you want to be a little ways off because then you can cut the angle and get him, if you are too close then he has a head start. I was also worried that he might have a knife, because I hadn't searched him yet. This way I would have enough time to Tazer him." Having the guy sit down was also a way to make sure he didn't run. "I love that. It gives me a huge advantage."

At first the guy was indigent about being questioned by the cops. "I'm sure you get stopped like this all the time," was the response of the cop. Indeed, it turns out the guy has a criminal history and is, essentially, on parole with conditions. By this time, another cop car came up and gave some assistance searching him. The Sergeant told me later that he really expected the guy would probably have some kind of weapon on him or that he might run. I certainly noticed that the cop was very alert and never took his eyes off the guy, so neither did I. A few minutes later another patrol car swung by just to make sure the situation was under control. Neither of these cars had been requested, they just heard about it over the radio.

The story the guy gave us didn't make any sense, and the cops were pretty sure the guy was getting ready to shoplift from the local liquor place when we spotted him. He has a criminal history, but he is also mentally ill. The cops certainly thought he was crazy to be walking around in gang clothes in this neighbourhood. "Look," the Sergeant said, "any cop that doesn't stop that guy is just being lazy." Still, he hadn't done anything wrong and they let him go. Later, they entered some information about the guy into a database. "We put everything in here. We've caught murderers because someone made a note in the computer about some guy that looked suspicious."

Another call was for a man that had passed away at home. He had terminal cancer, but the cops still have to investigate. Because he is effectively a field supervisor, all the Sergeant had to do was ask some questions of the guys that were handling the case. He told me that the detectives would talk to the cops on the scene, but might not come down unless there was something suspicious. He told me that his least favorite job is death notifications. I told him about some of my experiences as a hospital chaplain, and was thankful I was just observing at the death we attended.

I got a tour of the Division HQ. Things were nicer than I expected. Computers were up to date and things looked quite professional and nice. The offices for the detectives could have been pretty much any business office. it was a relatively quiet night when I was there, but they said that it gets busier later.

One of the interesting things we spoke about was the culture shift happening as the baby-boomers retire. The job has changed a lot. "Really, I'm just a social worker with a gun." Cops today are expected to work with the community and make referrals and really do a lot of problem solving.

The Sergeant had hoped that something more dramatic would happen during the ride along, but I was satisfied that I got a sense of what my Parish area looks like from a cop's perspective. I think these sorts of experiences are important for pastoral clergy. I mean, if all you know about your parish what your congregation tells you, then you miss out on some very important aspects of the community you seek to serve.

Would I do it again? Sure! It has exciting moments and can be kind of fun. The sergeant told me that he likes doing these ride-alongs because it gives him someone to talk to!

-t

The Home Stretch

Some nice, hard sailing after work today. It was just the skipper and I, so the cockpit was a busy place! Initially it looked like the wind was going to be crummy, but then just before the start the wind picked up. By the time the start came we were flying along at hull speed (the fastest the boat is designed to sail). We were going so fast, in fact, that we had to back off the start line so as not to cross over too early. The first leg upwind was intense, and when we rounded the first mark we were challenging for third place in our fleet. We maintained that position for the second leg, but after rounding the second mark we tacked north while most of the fleet went the other way. The distance to travel is the same, but we were hoping to have better wind on that part of the course. Alas, the wind died out for us and we spent some time wallowing at less than a knot of speed. By the time we caught good wind again, we had slipped to near the back of our fleet. Nonetheless, we beat one boat to the finish and were within 38 seconds of the boat in front of us.

This is the last time sailing for me until mid-September. I'm going to be away at Holy Cross for a month. And even if I weren't, my sailing friend is taking his family on a long cruise, anyway. As we enjoyed an especially good race-night buffet while watching the sun set red on Toronto, I savored my beer. What a life!

Lots of preparation happening for my trip. I've been checking things off my to-do list at a comfortable pace. Today we had a good staff meeting to go over some last minute stuff. I also met with the substitute music leader for Sunday. I also said Mass in the morning--I'm very happy to have someone to say the Wednesday morning Contemplative Eucharists while I'm away.

Tomorrow's big adventure will be a ride-along in the evening with the cops! I'm going to love seeing this part of Toronto from the police perspective!

-t

Alarms in the Night

Around midnight I was in my robe watching the DVR'd recording of the Toronto Blue Jays demolishing the Yankees when Betsy came down to the room we call "man town." She handed my my cell phone and told me that it had rung. Sure enough, the history showed a 1-800 number that I recognized immediately: it was the Alarm Company. I called back, gave my authorization codes, and they told me that motion detectors had tripped at the church. Security had been dispatched. I told them that I would meet them there.

In a perfect church world the Rector would not be the first number on the alarm-notification list, but since I live less than five minutes by foot, it's simply too practical to avoid. So I put on my pants and walked down the church. When I arrived I could already see that some lights were on that shouldn't be on. The front door was locked, and there was no sign of security, yet. Nonetheless, I walked in. The alarm was armed when I entered, but when I reset it a message flashed that noted the location of the alarms that had been tripped earlier.

What to do. Security wasn't there, yet, but I was anxious to clear the building and curious about what had happened. So I went back outside and walked around the perimeter of the building. Nothing obvious. I went back inside. I figured that the alarm had probably scared the person away, otherwise the internal sensors would have been tripped a second time after the alarm company reset them. I decided to start exploring. To be safer I dialed 911 on my cell phone, but didn't press "send." I simply held the phone behind my back so that I could dial instantly if I did find something unsavory.

I walked down the dark hall toward the sanctuary. I could see that one of the sanctuary lights was on. I could also see light under the door to the sacristy. As I got further down the hallway I could see some plant stalks on the floor--the sort that might be in a dried flower arrangement. I doubt the cleaners would have missed this in their earlier cleaning--probably remnants of whatever/whoever set off the alarm.

In the sactuary--nothing. I checked the spots where someone could hide. nothing. I went into the sacristy. The light was on but I saw no other sign. One of the Chancel Guild had been by in the afternoon, and it's possible she forgot the sacristy lights, and the cleaners could have missed it. But they would not have missed the sacristy lights. Weird.

At that point I decided not to keep creeping around without backup. I waited outside and the security guy came after a few minutes. Together we checked the rest of the church. More signs that someone was there. Theories abound:

1. Someone with a key, but not an alarm code, entered and set off the alarm. lots of people have keys to the church. however, the first sensor tripped was inside the building, not near the doors.
2. No key, no code--someone forces there way through a weak door. On our search we found a door that looked like it could be forced open (a reason to call the locksmith in the morning), but again, this doesn't match the sensor record.
3. Someone could have been hiding in the church until the cleaning staff left (which would have been circa 11:30 or midnight) went home. The person came out, and in doing so set off the alarm. Panicked, they left quickly knocking over the a plant in the sanctuary.

So in the morning I'll call the locksmith and talk to the staff and see what the cleaners may have seen. What an annoyance.

-t

Mad Scientist or False Suspect?

The New York Times ran a fascinating seven page article about Dr. Bruce Ivins, the FBI's main suspect in the anthrax letter attack back in 2001. Under scrutiny by federal investigators, Ivins committed suicide last year.

Although there is compelling evidence that Ivins was the attacker, there is no "smoking gun" that proves it conclusively. One of the interesting things to emerge, however, is his "darker" side concealed from family and co-workers. He was obsessed, for example, with College Sororities to the point where he actually stole a book of secrets and cipher device from a Sorority house. One minute he is ranting in e-mails in a way that borders on paranoia, the next he's a musician at his church.

Another thing that is interesting is how investigators became fixated on another suspect earlier in the investigation (also a scientist) and only reconsidered Ivins after a change in investigation leadership. But they were cautious to fall into the same trap and hound an innocent man. Reading the article, you get a sense of the FBI was really struggling with the massive amounts of information generated by a case like this. Putting it all together is nearly impossible. Cf. the famous Zodiac Killer case, which was also left in an unresolved state after the main suspect died.

From a purely philosophical point of view, I'm struck by how having more information in an investigation is not necessarily a good thing. In his book Blink, Malcome Gladwell argues that the human capacity for judgment is overwhelmed by too much data, and that the key to good decision making is 1) developing expertise, and 2) exposing that expertise to the right pieces of data (and not too much of it). Emergency room Doctors, for example, more accurately diagnose heart attacks when they are limited to five datums rather than be allowed to exhaustively test every possible indicator.

I believe that one of the primary skills necessary for good leadership (Pastoral or otherwise) in our time is simply managing information. Rather than assume that more and more information on a subject is a good, I think it's important to ask instead, "What do I need to know?" I think it's worthwhile to look at situations like these massive investigations to understand how to organize group thinking and leadership thinking.

-t

The Tale of the Prodigal Laptop

Remember when Betsy had her laptop stolen from her locked office at the University a year ago? Well the police recently found the laptop during a raid on an unrelated matter. The woman in possession of it claimed she bought it "on the street"--but the police were justifiably suspicious. Sure enough, the serial numbers matched. It seems the new owner did erase Betsy's personal info, but the applications are all still there. We are going to ask an uber-techy friend (hi, Justin) to see if he can recover any of the erased files. I think the odds are good that he may be able to recover some of the files--but how many is a mystery.

In the meantime, Betsy and I did amuse ourselves looking at the pictures left on the laptop by the woman the police confiscated it from. They didn't want to delete anything for fear of deleting Betsy's stuff, so we now have an interesting portrait of this person's life. We even have some of the lurid details. I'll leave that to your imaginations.

Believe it or not, my very Christian wife thinks we should burn all those pictures onto DVD and send them to her. Perhaps that is the charitable thing to do, but I call baloney on this woman's claim that she bought the laptop from "some guy on the street" and has no idea who he was, etc. More likely she knows exactly who this guy is and she may be willing to fess up when she's facing a charge of possession of stolen goods. I also suspect that this woman was the one that deleted Betsy's data, which is the real loss in all this.

As I was explaining the difference between Civil and Criminal proceedings to Betsy she asked, "Is it worth it?" and I replied, "It depends how angry you are!"

Ok, I'll start letting it go. Hey, we thought it was gone-gone, so that's something.

-t

Bike Theft

Someone stole my bike from my back yard. They had to go though the gate to get to it and normally the gate is padlocked from the inside since the thefts we experienced a few months ago. But I forgot to put the pad lock back in place after using the gate to do some yard work. Normally I lock my bike up, but there was no place to conveniently lock it without pulling it up onto the deck. Sigh.

Interestingly, the guy also took the padlock itself, which was sitting on a ledge next to the gate with the key still in it. Sigh.

So now I need to report this to the police. Not that there is much hope that they will find it. It wasn't a super expensive bike (I got it on-sale almost three years ago), but it was mine and I liked it. I had just taken it out from under it's winter tarp and put air in the tires. Sigh.

This incident also just reminds me that we really need to be vigilant about the security of our home. If I owned the place, I'm sure I would put in some alarms and maybe even cameras.

I'm not sure if I'm going to get another bike anytime soon. It might be nice, but finances are a little tight as we look towards possible Summer travel.

-t

A Bad Day

Yesterday was a comically bad day. After the whole theft thing and a hard day at work where the pile on my desk got larger rather than smaller, I went home. I helped Betsy make dinner by cutting up some veggies, including a jalapeño pepper. I went downstairs to tend to some laundry, and then came back upstairs to continue cooking. At that point, I stupidly rubbed my left eye. The pain from the Capsaicin was instant and severe--I totally understand why they use this stuff for mace!

I knew that water wouldn't help--Capsaicin doesn't dissolve in water--so the first thing I did was wash my hands with dish soap that was close at hand. I remembered a conversation I had a few weeks ago with a priest whose husband is a cop. She told me that after he was sprayed in the eyes with mace as part of his training, they used baby shampoo to wash off the toxic chemicals. We didn't have any of this at home, so I used the next best thing: cat shampoo. It's also a mild, tear-less soap. I made a lather with my hands and applied it to my eyes and rinsed with warm water. I repeated this procedure a few more times and it worked like gang-busters. I was back to normal in about 1/2 hour!

Undaunted by our bad day, Betsy and I decided to go to the church to use my computer, as we were leaving, my house key broke in the lock. I was able to remove it with a pair of pliers, but we decided this was not a good night to keep tempting fate. So we stayed in and went to bed early.

Slept fitfully. Many dreams about liturgy. At one point I dreamed that I was at the Moody Church in Chicago with a group of church musicians messing around on their organ. One of the organists I know cringed and said that it was obviously out of tune. To me it sounded dull, somehow. I had other dreams about liturgy and planning liturgy.

A busy day ahead--I sure hope it goes better than yesterday!

-t

Another Theft

A very difficult day means a short post from me as I'm behind the ball on many things and struggling to catch up.

This morning Betsy's laptop and cell-phone were stolen from her office at school. The office was locked while Betsy was away, but the thief managed to force the door open and steal her stuff. It was in the morning with lots of people around, but the corridor leading to her office is out of the way.

The loss of the hardware was not insubstantial, but the worst part is the loss of the data--naturally. Betsy's life and work is in that computer, including her research, our address book, her e-mail, all her photos, etc. She did make a back up some weeks ago, but we don't know much is there, yet.

The police came but didn't find any fingerprints.

I came and gave her some comfort and dropped her off at home. Came back to church and got hard to work with many tasks.

Life is difficult.

-t

A Rolling Moss Gathers No Stone

Back when I was studying Karate with great intensity (High School) one of my teachers would say "A Rolling Moss Gathers No Stone." He was encouraging me to move decisively and with speed--I think he would appreciate my current application of that principle. Even if I wanted to linger on the theft I wouldn't have time.

Much of my day today will be consumed by a Synod meeting to take care of some Diocesan business--including the election of a new bishop. Since I've been in this Diocese for a little more than 2 years, I've participated in two of these elections already! Lucky for me, this Synod is taking place at a church within walking distance of COTM. Unlucky for me, my attendance is nearly compulsory and once we enter we are virtually sequestered. That's too bad, as otherwise I would be preparing for tomorrow.

My Uncle Cliff is coming tonight. He'll come to church in the morning and then leaves to continue his trip west to see his kids on Monday. It's a short trip, but a meaningful one.

His coming on a big church day. I'm giving a powerpoint sermon on church architecture and liturgy to introduce the Advent seating arrangement. I spent a few hours on Friday arranging the space and taking some pictures to show the congregation. Here are two of them...


Now this is just going to be an experimental arrangement for Advent and possibly the Christmas season--and for the next two Sundays we will continue with the "normal" arrangement. But I have to say that it is going to break my heart to put things back the way they were this afternoon. I've got lots of good liturgical and historical and theological and even pastoral arguments for the choir-style seating arrangement, however what I find even more compelling the gut feeling this place has when arranged like that. I'm sorely tempted to leave the chairs like this for Sunday, but I realize that I'll be pushing the envelope of how much change I can get away with.

You see, there is a fundamental difference between change that is experienced as continuous vs. discontinuous is huge. In other words, gradual change where one thing flows into another is much easier for a community to handle than radical and surprising shifts. As a leader you often can't determine where a change will fall on that spectrum, but I can in this case, so I should choose to make it a change that has high-continuity with the flow of events. That means introducing it gradually and giving plenty of notice. That's why we are doing three sermons on liturgy and assuring everyone that this will be a temporary and seasonal thing.

Nonetheless, I'm hopeful that people will like it so much they will want to retain it. Several of my predecessors have done similar things with the space here, or wanted to, so I'm in good company. I'm deeply thankful that I have a congregation unafraid to experiment in this way.

Another thing happening on Sunday is a meeting of the Advent Liturgy Committee. This has continuity with the group that used to gather to decorate for Christmas--only this time they are dressing the space for Advent as a separate beat from the Christmas decorating. And that "dressing" of the space will be done with an eye towards liturgy. I expect that many of the traditional elements will be maintained (garlands here, wreaths there) but others will be completely new. My hope is that when we meet after church on Sunday there will be a lot of enthusiasm and energy generating that will propel our efforts forward and even get some new people involved in the project.

Oh, and the Christmas Pageant group is getting together to do more planning. I promised to make more progress on the script! Ahhggg!

So as I get ready to walk down to St. Paul's, Bloor St., for the Synod, I'll be thinking about the feasibility of pulling an all-nighter tonight to get all done. Caffeine is my friend.

-t

Theft at the Rectory

Last night when Betsy and I came home from work we discovered that someone had broken into our house and stolen most of our jewelry. We called the police and began the process of cataloging how it happened and what was taken.

Apparently the perpetrator broke in through the back door. He used some kind of hand tool (probably a screwdriver) and considerable force to defeat the lock there. Although it wasn't a bolt lock, it is interesting to note that it was finally the lock plate in the door frame that broke--metal sheared clean off. The violence of the entry was enough that the door slammed open and the blinds flew off onto some plants sitting on a nearby shelf.

From there the jerk passed by our wedding silver in the dining room and our electronics in the living room and went straight to our bedroom. He went through our night tables but didn't find anything of interest--but in our dressing room he saw what he was after. He emptied a laundry bag onto the floor and filled it up again with jewelry and other valuables he could find in or on our dressers. Among the missing items are Betsy's two Jewelry boxes and their contents, plus all my cuff-links (except the ones I was wearing at the time), some American cash we keep on hand for traveling, the jar of loose coins where I deposit my change. Gone is the antique gold pocket watch dad gave me and silver cuff-links from Lynne. Gone are Betsy's ear rings and her silver charm bracelet.

We did catch one break, however, in that a few of Betsy's most precious items (the cross I gave her when we started dating, the pearl necklace I gave her for our wedding, etc.) were still in a small make-up back she uses for traveling.

Probably the strangest item to go missing was my antiperspirant stick! Perhaps we are dealing with a smelly criminal?

We had insurance, and we can replace everything that was taken. Certainly we should count our blessings as the potential for violence was real, and they didn't take our absolutely most precious stuff (The car, Betsy's laptop, the silver/china, my cameras). Still, it's hard to shake the feeling of violation. Seeing your drawers pulled out and knowing that someone put their hands through your delicates is pretty unpleasant.

Next steps involve the CSI folks trying to lift prints this morning. Then we need to get the landlord to get a locksmith over pronto. And then there is insurance to deal with.

Betsy noted, "At least we know what to ask for Christmas."

-t