Adam Fucking Frantz

Letter #5: September 3rd, 2012

Damn. Life has changed a lot since ‘Riot Lunch.’ Two months later now and I’m two jails away from where I was. The legendary Brooklyn Detention Center turned out to be more livable than the stories that preceded it. There were no cat size rats, the C.O.’s didn’t berate me with anti-white slurs and I never had to walk through an underground dirt floored, rat filled tunnel (though I was told that really exists). The food was honestly the best food I’d eaten in over 6 months. Thank you baby Jesus – the rumor about food in the B.O.P. (Bureau of Prisons) being actually food and often times well prepared was true! I met a number of interesting people along the way and landed in a place that literally answered my prayers.

Constantly I had been wishing for reprieve from the endless barrage of noise inflicted on my thoughts and senses, and to have access to the outdoors as I had no window to even see outside before, let alone the ability to go out… from my concrete confines into the natural world. now here I am in Waymart, PA at Canaan Prison’s camp facility with a different breed and mixture of prisoners who don’t (all) yell to talk and the ability to LITERALLY step outside – no C.O.’s, no handcuffs, and breathe fresh air as I watch the wind move clouds across the sky and set the treetops in motion. Honestly, I feel blessed. Yes, of course I am still a prisoner of the B.O.P., but I can feel a connection to the real world again.

Also, I am finally allowed to have contact visits! No more T.V. style payphones and windows separating me from my loved ones. I can literally hug and kiss my family then sit down and talk with them and hold hands a little throughout the visit. Truly a beautiful thing. Having SO much taken away from you will really change your perspective on life. It’s not the things that the money provided that I miss, because I don’t, it’s my family, my friends and the simple pleasures of life, like being able to enjoy nature. I can’t stress enough for everyone to assess the things you value and to appreciate what you have. Life is good. Don’t give yours up!

Keep The Fight Alive
AFF

Letter #4: June 20th, 2012 – Lunch Riot

We’ve all seen them in the news or on wildest police video shows, but how many of you have been in arms reach of riot gear clad officers?

… How about been served lunch by them? HAHA

So today we got up for breakfast, “pancakes & sausage,” normally you put your laundry bag out with breakfast on weekdays. Today the C.O. (Corrections Officer) said “No laundry today gentleman, the machines are down.” I took my tray and proceeded to sit.

“Laundry’s broken. Yeah right, we’re getting shook down. I’m tellin’ you,” said an older guy next to me – a seasoned veteran in jail life. Not something you want to be kids; institutionalized.

We eat, then sit and shoot the shit for a couple of minutes before the C.O. tells everyone to wrap it up and lock it in. After meals we have to go in our cells to clear the common room for the workers to wipe tables, sweet floors and change trash bags. No problem. I go sit on my bunk and wait… 10 minutes… 15 minutes.

“Come on!” My celly is at the door. “What theee fuck are they doing? Everything’s done. Why doesn’t he let us out?” in an irritated Romanian accent, which I find particularly amusing. He bangs on the door, “C.O.! What theee fuuuck!”

“Dude,” I say, “We’re not getting out. Shakedown today. O.G. told me and I think he was right. Broken laundry equals shake down. That way they can count all your belongings to be sure you aren’t hoarding socks or underwear.” He bangs on the door again. I grab a book, got “comfortable” (that’s a relative term in jail) and start reading, since lunch is at 12:30ish I figured we’d be in for at least that long.

So 4 hours, 100 pages and 100 laps of the cell by my celly (8 steps front to back), the main unit door opens… with 3 blacked out guards in full riot ear – Big boots, cargo pants, shin/knee guards, utility belt, flak vest with extra pockets, helmet, face shield, elbow pads, gloves, the whole nine… all black.

Intimidating, right?

Then you see they’re toting a lunch cart. 70 trays, bin of ice, and a container of purple drink. LOL. So the three of them cart over to a cell, yep, they’re doing door to door delivery service. One C.O. guides the cart, another hands the trays and a third scoops ice into our cups. Now, this 3rd C.O. seems a little smaller in stature than the other 2. Short, thin, doesn’t seem to be grunting at everyone as much… It’s a woman. No big deal, we have a few female staff here so it’s nothing surprising. The funny part here is that some inmates get “Kosher” meals, but they have to be heated for two minutes in the microwave to be eaten.

Who gets to be designated meal-eater-upper? You guessed it, the woman C.O. in riot gear. A couple of inmates loved this. “That’s right baby, back in the kitchen!” one yelled. I’m not sexist but this scene just struck me as funny. Of course the two male C.O.’s nominated her for this job, as if the geared-up lunch service wasn’t demoralizing enough for them. “Nice to see our special units are so well-trained… In the kitchen!” hollered another. So, whatever, we got served, ate, and then waited some more.

Another half-dozen C.O.’s come in with their blacked out ninja turtle suits and searched the entire unit, cell by cell. Obviously you’d think they’d be looking for drugs or weapons, but this is a low-level unit so it was more like excessive books or clothes in the cells. No biggie. Life continues. I have to admit, I thought if I ever were to come across riot-gear clad officers, they’d be kicking down my door telling me to get on the ground, not serving me meatballs and sauce.

I made a little sketch to share with you guys my interesting day. Thanks for reading. Until next time, hope everyone is well. Oh, to the poster commenting on grammatical errors, I’m in jail. I can’t fix them and I fully blame my typist as my writing punctuation are always spot on. She must have fucked up “your” & “you’re”… not me. 😉

P.S. Have fun at Fighter Fest bitches!   Take pics for me!

-AFF 6/20/2012

Letter #3: June 8, 2012

Well, it’s all over but the waiting now.  5 years.  60 months.  1,825 days.  43,800 hours.  2,628,000 minutes.  157,680,000 seconds… If my math is correct, sans calculator.  now subtract ~ 7 months good time, provided I’m good, and 9-12 months for a drug program, if I’m eligible… not like I had a marijuana problem or anything.  Brings us to minus 1 1/4 – 1 1/2 years, then there are halfway houses to re-introduce us to society which is about a 6 month program.  Now we’re at minus 1 year & 1 month without the drug program and 1 3/4 to 2 years with it.  Okay so that’s 3-4 years depending.  1, 095 to 1,460 days respectively.  Of course we can’t forget I have 4 years of supervised probation after my release – more drug tests and good behavior but it’s possible to be let off probation after it’s half completed if you are an exemplary probate, which of course I will be.
There is not a chance I would risk my freedom again after dealing with incarceration once.  It behooves me how people can be repeat offenders and come back to this “life”.  So, on the good side, I’ll be home at 33 free at 36 and worst case home at 35 and free at 39.  Damn, fuck that number -39.  Yeesh.  I was SO looking forward to my early 30’s but I risked and lost at least the first couple-few.  I know that I am going to miss a lot of events, occasions, moments, good and bad, but I plan to thoroughly make up for the good ones.  HOlidays, birthdays, anniversaries, milestones, horse shows, dance recitals and so many other fun times. Family dinners, baby sitting my girls, their first days of school.  My family has promised to take pictures for me to capture some of the moments I’ll miss, times when my family needs me too.  Assholes at work, a break from the day to day, yard-work around mom & dads, moving days, mediator of communications between German, Irish and Italian family members (lol) and more.
What I Miss out on is what life is really about.  Love.  I’m away from all my loved ones, away from being there for them or with them.  Away from doing things we enjoy together. Undoubtedly I will return with new vigor for life and will truly appreciate what I have instead of striving for those things I don’t have or need.  A new lease on life as they say and I can’t wait for it!
If you thought I was fun before… Just wait!  Just don’t expect to smoke or drink with me cuz this guys over that shit. I’ve wasted & thrown away enough of my life on drugs & alcohol.  Not that I never had fun, but addiction and dependency are things of my past.  This kid’s going to enjoy life from an un-hazy or cloudy viewpoint!
-AFF 6/8/12

Letter #2: June 5th, 2012

It’s the day before my sentencing and I feel the nerves throughout my entire body every time the thought crosses my mind.  An energy released throughout my body, causing my palms to sweat, pulse to quicken, mind to race.  The what-ifs are absolutely endless.  The negative thoughts try to pull me down like sinking in thick wet mud.  My mind races.  Person to person, faces flashing.  What will I miss?  What will go on beyond my control?  I am so concerned of the negative effects my actions will bestow upon my loved ones.  The grey hairs I’ve caused, the worry lines developed, the mental preoccupation.  Never has the ripple effect had such pronounced residual impact in my life.  The waves of my actions crashing over everyone around me.
I thought this wouldn’t happen to me.  I thought I was making a calculated risk that could only end in my favor.  My pompous ideas collapsed underneath me like an avalanche, suffocating everyone below with the heavy unexpected news falling on them like a wave of wet snow.  I now face, certainly, the hardest time of my life.
After spending my recent past depending almost entirely on myself, thinking I couldn’t rely on others, I will be sent to an environment where I physically will be on my own.  However, I am learning now that I can depend on my loved ones.  Spiritually they keep me alive-giving me smiles, remembrances of times gone by and daydreams of times still to come.  I now truly feel what I was told by my great elders, life is about your loved ones.  Your occupation, your possessions are merely filler.  Taking the time to enjoy the natural world and its beings fills your heart.  Appreciating the things we take for granted is where we find true beauty.  A flower leaning to bask in the sunlight and the bumblebee perfectly created for its task of gathering its pollen.  The deafening silence deep in the woods.  Water rushing over rocks, carrying a leaf, fallen from a tree, creating oxygen for us to breathe.  Take not of what has and will continue to exist without humans.  Our jobs, houses, cars, clothing – certainly are necessary in today’s culture – but they are not the things that feed our souls.  Never let yourself be too consumed in the material existence.
Recognize your role and what you reap from this but keep in the front of your mind what is truly important, what truly makes you happy, the reason you go through this daily rat-race.  Be mindful.  Remain conscious of the time passing by each day and how you’ve spent it.  If everything were to be taken away from you tomorrow, would you be at peace with how your time was spent?  Would you regret your actions?  Your interactions?  Your lack of actions?  How many things would you wish that you’d done?  Do not let opportunity pass you by.  Take the time and make the effort to do the things that are truly important.  Seize the moment, the hour, the day, the month, the year.  Seize your life, for it is yours. Enjoy life for what it is – precious time on the green earth with those you care for and that care for you.  Of course we cannot all be ascetics without possessions – fasting, thinking and waiting, life has responsibility and we must accept that.  But do not be consumed by the things that hold no merit in our last days, for we know now when our last days come.  Assess your life.  Think of where you are.  Appreciate who you are with. Appreciate and understand who you are.  Know and develop yourself to be the person you wish to be.  Be the master of your destiny.  Keep positive thoughts in your mind and think with each step you take.  Allow your minds eye to see the world and guide you to really see.

Love this life, love each other, love yourself.
-AFF 6/5/12

Letter #1: May 11th, 2012

Today is May 11th, two days before Mother’s Day and my parents 40th Wedding anniversary.  Just two of many special occasions I will miss spending with loved ones over the next few years.  For those of you who don’t know – I am in a Federal jail for a marijuana distribution case.  It’s been 3 months now with a currently undetermined number of months remaining as I await sentencing.  I will not discuss the details of my case or bitch about my situation.  I put myself into this mess and I DO not want to glorify the wrongs I have done.  What I DO want to do with this space is:

  1. Keep people informed of my situation & well-being.
  2. Shed some light on the realities of what happens when you choose to ignore the laws & participate in illicit activities.

I’m sure as well you may read some tales from jail and possibly preaching about what life is all about.  I may even post some of my creative writings or drawings that help me to pass the time.

I have reached a lot of personal realizations over the past year.  I hurt a lot of people that were very important to me.  I hurt my developing career as a journalist and had to sell the company built from the ground up by a friend and I.  I let down a lot of people with my selfish & arrogant actions, and am not left flapping in the breeze while life passes me by in an 8 x 12′ concrete & steel jail cell.

I cannot stress enough for people to appreciate what they have and not take even little things for granted.  Life is too short to not appreciate its beauty.

Anyway, keep an eye on this site for updates.  I’ll try to submit something on a semi-regular basis, whether it’s a thought, an interesting story, a rant or maybe a topic of discussion.  I could sure tell you about some… “interesting” people I’ve been meeting.

If you want to write me or directly reply to something I’ve posted, send a letter to my current address (subject to change, but I will udpate):

Adam Frantz
93793038
K. Pad #12
D.W.W.D.F.
950 High St.
Central Falls, RI
02863

Please be sure to put your complete return name & address or I will not receive the letter.  Nothing can be sent besides letters and pictures, so don’t bother trying – they WILL take it!  I even had a letter from my four year old niece confiscated (not given to me) because she put “too many” stickers on the letter.

If you want to donate to my commissary fund to help feed me and pay for my writing supplies, send money via PayPal to customfighters@gmail.com and it will be uploaded for me.

I’m sure people have questions, and the most popular one seems to be; “What is it like in jail and what do you do all day?” So, I’ll write up a day in the life of an inmate to give you guys some insight to my daily routine for my next post.

Keep the fight alive!

-AFF