For more than a century, boys went in damaged and came out destroyed. It was for their own good. A report on child abuse at the Florida School for Boys.
The men remember the same things: blood on the walls, bits of lip or tongue on the pillow, the smell of urine and whiskey, the way the bed springs sang with each blow. The way they cried out for Jesus or mama. The grinding of the old fan that muffled their cries. The one-armed man who swung the strap. They remember walking into the dark little building on the campus of the Florida School for Boys, in bare feet and white pajamas, afraid they’d never walk out.
For 109 years, this is where Florida has sent bad boys. Boys have been sent here for rape or assault, yes, but also for skipping school or smoking cigarettes or running hard from broken homes. Some were tough, some confused and afraid; all were treading through their formative years in the custody of the state. They were as young as 5, as old as 20, and they needed to be reformed. It was for their own good.
Now come the men with nightmares and scars on their backsides, carrying 50 years of wreckage — ruined marriages and prison time and meanness and smoldering anger. Now comes a state investigation into unmarked graves, a lawsuit against a dying old man. Now come the questions: How could this happen? What should be done? Those questions have been asked again and again about the reform school at Marianna, where, for more than a century, boys went in damaged and came out destroyed.
Please go to Milkboys and view this entire posting. Also, please follow and read the comments. I lost a friend to the "juvenile justice system". Thank you to Josh at Milkboys for posting this. I don't have the answer to juvenile justice, or to adult justice; but the people in charge need to remember this is a soul at stake. Don't just throw it away.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Powerful, and brought as a whole from Milkboys...
http://blog.milkboys.org Sept.04
For more than a century, boys went in damaged and came out destroyed. It was for their own good. A report on child abuse at the Florida School for Boys.
The men remember the same things: blood on the walls, bits of lip or tongue on the pillow, the smell of urine and whiskey, the way the bed springs sang with each blow. The way they cried out for Jesus or mama. The grinding of the old fan that muffled their cries. The one-armed man who swung the strap. They remember walking into the dark little building on the campus of the Florida School for Boys, in bare feet and white pajamas, afraid they’d never walk out.
For 109 years, this is where Florida has sent bad boys. Boys have been sent here for rape or assault, yes, but also for skipping school or smoking cigarettes or running hard from broken homes. Some were tough, some confused and afraid; all were treading through their formative years in the custody of the state. They were as young as 5, as old as 20, and they needed to be reformed. It was for their own good.
Now come the men with nightmares and scars on their backsides, carrying 50 years of wreckage — ruined marriages and prison time and meanness and smoldering anger. Now comes a state investigation into unmarked graves, a lawsuit against a dying old man. Now come the questions: How could this happen? What should be done? Those questions have been asked again and again about the reform school at Marianna, where, for more than a century, boys went in damaged and came out destroyed.
Please go to Milkboys and view this entire posting. Also, please follow and read the comments. I lost a friend to the "juvenile justice system". Thank you to Josh at Milkboys for posting this. I don't have the answer to juvenile justice, or to adult justice; but the people in charge need to remember this is a soul at stake. Don't just throw it away.
For more than a century, boys went in damaged and came out destroyed. It was for their own good. A report on child abuse at the Florida School for Boys.
The men remember the same things: blood on the walls, bits of lip or tongue on the pillow, the smell of urine and whiskey, the way the bed springs sang with each blow. The way they cried out for Jesus or mama. The grinding of the old fan that muffled their cries. The one-armed man who swung the strap. They remember walking into the dark little building on the campus of the Florida School for Boys, in bare feet and white pajamas, afraid they’d never walk out.
For 109 years, this is where Florida has sent bad boys. Boys have been sent here for rape or assault, yes, but also for skipping school or smoking cigarettes or running hard from broken homes. Some were tough, some confused and afraid; all were treading through their formative years in the custody of the state. They were as young as 5, as old as 20, and they needed to be reformed. It was for their own good.
Now come the men with nightmares and scars on their backsides, carrying 50 years of wreckage — ruined marriages and prison time and meanness and smoldering anger. Now comes a state investigation into unmarked graves, a lawsuit against a dying old man. Now come the questions: How could this happen? What should be done? Those questions have been asked again and again about the reform school at Marianna, where, for more than a century, boys went in damaged and came out destroyed.
Please go to Milkboys and view this entire posting. Also, please follow and read the comments. I lost a friend to the "juvenile justice system". Thank you to Josh at Milkboys for posting this. I don't have the answer to juvenile justice, or to adult justice; but the people in charge need to remember this is a soul at stake. Don't just throw it away.
Welcome to my day...
Yes, I know, you all are wondering where are all the pretty pictures? It is interesting in my own mind that I see myself becoming braver and braver with my picture posting. I haven't really gotten to the OMG lookit dat level, but I have gathered a passel and will share with you as the opportunity makes way.
Right now I'm tired. I guess I've never shared this before, but I own....ok, my lenders own and I pay... a relatively small 3 bdrm 1 bath ranch house. It has a small back yard with big trees, which leave me a bit nervous in wind storms. I've fenced that off for the romping and pooping pleasures of the pooch. Well, I ramble about this house mostly alone...just me and the dog. I've never really liked the paint and paper schemes, and I really didn't like that I had my office area in my bedroom - I had a roommate for a bit and wanted to keep the computer secure from foolishness. So, long holiday weekend, I decided to tackle some needed tasks.
As I type this, I am now in my new office, which has a large window and door out to the back yard. And, well, the dog is using the yard well at the moment. Could have done without that. But, otherwise, it's sort of a nice change from the drab wall I was looking upon as I worked. The room isn't done yet...I need to move some other things out and maybe move some in. But, I can stretch....now, I just need to remember to close the drapes when visiting those, uh, sites.... well, you know.
My next project was the driveway. Sorely in need of a sealant. And, credit card to the rescue, out comes the 5-gallon bucket of sealer and a brush/squeegee. Well, that was an experience best left alone. Not too terribly difficult, but for the wind blowing leaves on the wet driveway. The number of people that just insisted on driving in to see me as I was cleaning and sealing was astounding. I don't see that many people here in a month! Well, the tire tracks showing in the newly sealed driveway ought to tell people what that space is for.
My other project for the weekend is to paint my livingroom. Now, most of the wall space is taken with paper or brick, so I really didn't have that deep of a job ahead of me. So, picking out samples and making my decision, I chose a nice light green that went well with my bricks, sofa, wall paper, and floor....it was beautiful, every where but on the wall. I found it difficult to stay in the room, and chose to eat looking the other way. It was truly horrendous. There goes $40.
Decided to repaint antique white, a cop-out, I know. And, yes, antique white is short for old and boring...but, it matches everything! So, back to the paint store, right? Nope...see, I told the paint person that I didn't want to go with something so plain and boring despite his suggestions after seeing my decor'.... The good news is that the other store had antique white on sale. The bad news, I have to leave the other paint up for at least two days before painting over it. I'm going to miss my lazyboy...
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