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Dispatches From Mississippi’s Parchman Prison

Incarcerated writers in their own words

"Sharks of Unit 29" by Corey Carroll. Art courtesy of Vox Press.

An excerpt from Unit 29: Writing from Parchman Prison, out December 1, 2024. Unit 29: Writing from Parchman Prison is a collection of writings from over 30 Mississippi inmates housed in the infamously brutal Unit 29 at Mississippi State Penitentiary, better known as Parchman Farm. The book is not a comfortable literary work, but rather a cry for help from deep within Unit 29, Parchman.


From the Depths of the Beast arises a chance for freedom from within. After ten and half years in solitary confinement, I have finally regained a chance at staying in general population. It is a greater freedom than I have had in over the past decade of my life, and a much more preferable living area while waiting and working toward a chance at release from prison to a second chance in life.

The ability to be able to work around the prison, go to the dining hall, etc., all seems so small but for someone whom has giving up on retaining these privileges again some years ago, it is a blessing. The freedom of space and activity is something a body needs.

Walks in the rain to the dining hall is just as relaxing on the inside as the old tin roofs on raining days. Freedom of social environments have been deprived of the past decade doing long-term lock down time.

Playing cards, lack of mail, calls, all that gives a sense of our own freedom on the inside. In another six years, I’m looking to hope the laws will let me parole out of prison. To begin a new life and build me a family, growing children, loving wife, & a house made into a home.

I was released in October of 2010 on parole at the age of 20 years old from a 2-year prison sentence. After 10 months in the prison on a violation for an under-age DUI at the age of 16 years old. Walking into the back door of the administration building at Walnut Grove Youth Correctional Facility, the air around me had the smell of fresh air. It has a different smell from inside the facility grounds for some reason.

As I passed through the breezeway into the administration building, I was already in free world clothes, jeans & polo, with tennis shoes on. Waiting in the front lobby for me was my grandmother (who had stood beside me through my little sentence and made sure I had store & hygiene every week.) My mother (who also had been there through the sentence), my brother, my ex, Brittany, I was with when I first got locked up & Brooke, Brittany & Chris’s daughter she had the August before I got the DUI. She was walking now; at my arrest she was only 2 and a half months old months old. Brittany of course like most woman these days was off with other men most of my sentence, a letter from time to time. She just happened to be at my pop’s house the day I called to let them know of my release date and if they were coming to pick me up. That weekend she moved back to my mama’s house and came with them to pick me up the following week.

It felt so good stepping outside the facility and firing up a cigarette on the way to the car. The little Delta 99 my grandma had at the time was full. Walking out, I had cigarettes in my pocket and a little under an ounce of weed. I was free and on my way.

It’s no other feeling of freedom that could feel so good as having gone from confinement to complete freedom. To be close to loved ones, whom visited every other week my whole sentence. The comfort of presence of conversation about real world things. They all wanted to hear about how the time was, while I was trying to catch up on the world since I’d been gone.

When I came back this time, my actions resulted in a total loss of freedom completely, which in the end taught me a very valuable lesson on its value in life. A little too late though after it’s gone. All I can hope for is that one day God opens a door that will grant me the complete freedom of release, “a second chance at life.” Now that I’ve been though all this and have learned life lessons in losing it, I have a different sense of value and worth in it.

I enjoy every little extra freedom I gain on the inside. It gives me little strength by little strength to hold on that life isn’t over completely. Once sentence to Life w/o parole after leaving from a CWC, which is a work center, “it was supposed to be fun for us but in the end a couple days after leaving, the assault of an elderly lady during the break in of a house and stealing her car ended with her dying from a single stab wound. Intended to stop the hollering and commotion not for a kill took all our freedom away when she died. Not a day goes by I don’t wish I could rewind the hands of time for the two of us and bring back life. Hers and mine together. Though her life was at its end, mine was only in the beginning and it ended before you really got started. I pray for her and pray the lord both forgives me for the stupid choices me and a brother made that day.

If a day comes, I regain my freedom more than the freedom on the inside, I’ll shall cherish it the rest of my days. Until then, I’ll take pride in my progress on the inside and make the best of the freedom I have inside these walls.

"From the Depths of the Beast" by Anthony Wilson

"Love" by Anthony Wilson. Art courtesy of Vox Press.

We all was forced to breathe the smoke in. Knowing this same smoke could kill us all.

1:45 p.m. An inmate Cel 2 name **** 4 Stage, was tripping really hard on ice one morning, he thought guys was talkin about doing something to him. So, he got real scared. He was smoking a roll when he took the light he had and threw it at the Big fan we had on the Zone, the fan was about 6 foot the Body around the fan was made out of Plastic, the whole fan went up in flames within Seconds the whole Zone was Black and Covered in smoke. We already don’t have any air or AC in our Buildings. We all was forced to breathe the smoke in. Knowing this same smoke could kill us all. There wasn’t a CO in the Building that morning. He walked off his post and went to another Building to help his girlfriend Count. Leaving us in the Building all by ourselves for about 35 minutes we sat in the smoke. A few guys was yelling out the windows down the walk way to the officer for help. One of the COs heard our Cry for help and came in the Building. Fighting his way through the Smoke he put the big flame out which took him a Good Little Minute to do that once he put it out the K-9 and Warden came to the Building asked was everyone okay and a doctor came to see was every one okay. They moved the inmate to A-Building and other inmates came in to clean the Zone once everything was clean, we went back to our Day. The CO that saved us some was officer Taylor.

"29 L-Building" by Victor Wilder

"From a Child to a Man in a Manner of Minutes" by Marquez Hickenbottom. Art courtesy of Vox Press.

I stay depressed. Some days I’ll talk but some days I want to stay in my dark cell and sleep.

There is no physical escape from prison unless you jump the fence. But you can escape by your mental state. That’s why I try to do things to occupy my mind as much as I can by watching TV or talking to other people. It’s real stressful in this place and beats you down. Mentally the outside world don’t see this all the time, how we get deprived of what we are supposed to have. Shit is hard in here whether you have a phone or TV, it all gets old after doing 23 years. I stay depressed. Some days I’ll talk but some days I want to stay in my dark cell and sleep. I don’t want to watch TV or use the phone or even, some days, bathe. It’s not easy, the good is bad. We keep doing more things that tear us down bad, or try to. I’ve come a long way. I’ve changed a lot and still have a long way to go. I wish at times I could physically be on a beach or in the snow instead of in this cold cell that gets more and more depressing every day. So, I let my mind go there as much as I can. That’s my escape.

"No Escaping Prison" by James Kendricks

"Praying Convict of 29" by Anthony Wilson. Art courtesy of Vox Press.

So, I consider this my time, in a way I’m alone, because most of the other guys is sleep and in another world.

I always go to bed early and get up early. I went to bed around 8:00 p.m. on December 3, 2023, Sunday night.

After a good night of rest, I get up around 2:30 a.m. I thank Almighty God for blessing me to see another day. I like that time of morning, it’s very quiet. It’s many guys on the zone, but most of the guys are asleep, except for a few guys in front of the television.

So, I consider this my time, in a way I’m alone, because most of the other guys is sleep and in another world.

I get out of bed and slip on my shower shoes, go into the bathroom, shave, brush my teeth and wash my face.

Then I go back to my room. Turn to the CBS overnight news with the news anchor Jerika Duncan. The broadcast was about Israel still bombing the Gaza Strip. But the most exciting news was about many people being upset, because the Committee of College Football, chose number 9 rank Alabama and number 7 rank Texas over number 4 rank Florida State. An unbeaten team. Then I turn the TV to Scripps news on channel 15.1 at 3:11 a.m.

Laura Rutledge was the broadcaster. The news was basically the same as the CBS overnight news, they both were talking about Israel and Gaza Strip, where the bombing was going on. Next, I clean my room. I spend a while in prayer to the Lord, praying about the many devastating problems we have in this confused world. Then I flip through the RB again for a moment, and after I make my bed. I leave C-building on my way to the administration building for work at 5:30 a.m. Once I get to the building, all of the doors are locked, Major Bradley fears that one of the spice heads will run through the administration building saying that someone is trying to take their life.

I have witnessed a few of them run up through that way. I go to the dining hall to get some breakfast. They had biscuit, chicken sausage, oatmeal, coffee, and juice. I eat oatmeal because of the fiber. I like oatmeal when I was young and coming up, Mom made it and added the sugar, the butter, and milk. I still like it today, in the very same way. The cooks prepare the food pretty good, forwhat they have to work with, but some meals, you may want to turn down. I finish eating and go back to the administration building, and wait for Major Bradley to show up. She arrives a few minutes later and lets me into the building. I go get a box of gloves out of the library. Slip the gloves on, make some mop water, push the chemical cart out, get some red chemical, some green, and some purple, along with some bleach. Then I started cleaning one of the four bathrooms, I had to clean the women bathroom, the men bathroom, the staff bathroom, and the bathroom set aside for me and the other workers that work around the administration building. The best way to clean up, don’t ever allow anything to build up. I clean from top to bottom, walls and all, when you do something, do it right. After cleaning the bathrooms, I mop the floors, someone else do the sweeping. I dust the window sills, and polish the door knobs. Then I go outside and sweep out front, and out back of the administration building. Around this time, it 7:15 a.m. the shift is starting to change, officers coming to work, and officers getting off and going home. I say good morning to the officers, as they come through the administration and I open the door for all the ladies, and show kindness and respect toward everyone. All of the officers know me by now. Then I get out of their way, until the major does her muster and let the officers know where they will be working. After their muster is over, I go back into the library, do a little reading, and focus on a little meditation. Just another day, I mostly repeat things over each day of the week. I like being away from C-building during the day. I find comfort and peace, when I can get a good moment to myself. It’s about 8 a.m. now, Monday morning and my day is just getting started. What is that slogan for the US Army? We do more before 8:00 a.m. than most men do all day. I can relate to that. It’s just another day.

"Repetition Is Life" by Leon Johnson


Unit 29: Writing from Parchman Prison out December 1st, 2024 by VOX PRESS 2024 © All rights reserved. Editor: Louis Bourgeois.





Vox Press

Vox Press is a 501(c)(3) arts organization based in Oxford, Mississippi. Its mission is to encourage, promote, and provide opportunities for the creation and public presentation of literature, art, and other creative works by individuals and groups traditionally neglected by the mainstream publishing industry, the academy, and other public venues and institutions.