Visitation, My escape from Georgia Diagnostic and Classification Prison

Prison Blvd. is the loneliest road I have ever traveled in my 34 years on this planet. Today, I visited James Andrews for the first time. To get to Georgia Diagnostic and Classification Prison (GDCP) you take exit 201 off I75. Go two lights and bust a left on aptly named Prison Blvd, which is a double lane 1000 yard stretch of contrasts. The drive is eery, there is a very nice lake on the right hand side with what I guess is the wardens house just overlooking the lake…almost plantation like.  As you approach the prison on the hill, the first thing you notice is barb wire….miles of it…silver, catching the sunlight almost blinding. You suddenly realize, you’re not in Kansas anymore and that lake isn’t quite as welcoming.

I had no idea what to expect, all I knew coming into this was that visiting hours are only on Saturday and Sunday from 9 AM to 3 PM. I found a parking space easily. Which is strange due to the limited hours…I bet Six Flags was packed.

Once parked I immediately noticed a park like setting on one side of the lot and the barbed wire fenced in prison on the opposite side. I wanted to go to the park. I did not want to go towards the barbed wire…call it a natural instinct.

As I approached the “welcoming center” for lack of a better term…I was met abruptly by a prison guard, filled out a form then told  “You can’t wear shorts in here”. “What should I do?” and answered abruptly “Not my problem.” Luckily I had a pare of jeans in the car. So, there I am in the parking lot of GDCP with my shorts around my ankles desperately getting my jeans ready to put on and thinking “lord please don’t let a family walk by now, or even worse an officer.” I just wanted to visit, I did not plan on staying.

I was now acceptable, I guess. Actually the prison guards where pretty welcoming, I can’t complain too much about them. I gave my license and keys to the gate guard (that’s all you can bring) and the large automatic barred gate opened. I asked “where should I go?” I was told “Just go down the hallway”. Okay. The Hallway was long, very long. Totally white also…the decoration was bizarre. Along the walls down this hallway were motivational posters, you know…Success with an eagle soaring, Perseverance, Honesty, etc… They were all perfectly spaced out, almost exact. I felt like the good people of GDCP were trying to tell me if you don’t do this, you’ll end up here. Thanks.

At the end of the hallway was a stair that led to another large gate. A very nice prison guard explained to me “just go in there and sit down”. The gate opened…and I did just that, sit down. Let me explain something…the room I was in was very large and had inmates everywhere sitting with their loved ones talking. Very much like you see in the movies. I noticed something almost immediately, how intensely these inmates were speaking with their families. You know how you walk into a room and someone always looks up at you? Or you notice someone walking into a room? Not a single inmate looked my way, or anyone else who walked in. I noticed this.

The place was somewhat crowded so I had to sit next to an inmate and his family…I felt like someone who just crashed a wedding, or accidentally opened the veil to a confessional “Sorry, didn’t know anyone was in here! Get back to your confession…my bad!” I sat there for almost 30 minutes waiting to see James.  Suddenly I heard “James Andrews” from a guard..I said “that’s me”, and another large prison door was opened. I was then escorted to a visiting room where I met James for the first time, we were separated by glass and I spoke to him with the phone provided.

Almost immediately we jumped into spiritual conversation. James was wearing glasses, had an evangelistic smile, and one of those barrel loud laughs you hear big bearded guys use after too much drinking. I asked James about his daily routine…he said they are in their cell for 23 hours and get an hour outside. He does not have Internet access and very little access to TV and radio. Most of his time is spent in his cell. James said the last thing a death row inmate needs is to be pampered.  A death row inmate needs to focus on his crime, focus on the compassion to the family he committed the offense against and most importantly focus on God. If you can’t get that done, you don’t need to play basketball or watch TV or whatever.

James said that due to his mental illness he can get placed in an isolation cell. “I love it though, I just sit in there with my friends…God, the holy spirit, and Jesus…we just laugh and have a ball. Sometimes the guards will hear me laughing and cutting up and will be like ‘well, sounds like he’s having fun why move him?’”

At one point in our conversation…I think I had referred to myself as a “sinner” for like the 15th time and he immediately stopped me. James looked dead in my eyes with a very real sense of authority and said “Do me a favor Rory, don’t refer to yourself as a sinner anymore…refer to yourself as an imperfect saint. You will continue to be what you say you are.” My incredibly thought provoking reply….”ok”.

I left James a little early, around 2:30pm. We bumped fists on the glass and headed our separate ways. I walked back through the large room filled with the inmates and their families…the conversations still intense all sitting in the same place I left them, all waiting until they had to be told to leave. Since I was going early, i was the only one at the prison gate leaving the room…the guard didn’t see me right away so I waited for what was a very anxious three minutes. She finally saw me, opened the gate and I gave one last look back at the room. As I did, I noticed a lot of the prisoners look up at me…there eyes taken for a brief moment from their loved ones, staring right at me. How desperately they must have wanted to walk through that gate to even notice my existence.

Leaving I had the thought of those eyes…staring at me,  wanting to leave…go anywhere, just go. Then I thought about brother James, and I smiled. I smiled because I know there is a man, who is locked in an isolation cell just laughing it up with his friends. Where guards even let him stay longer because he is happy. That is true freedom. A freedom, that I so desperately desire…I stare at Brother James with the eyes of those inmates.

Your Imperfect Saint,

Rory Martin

WELCOME!!

Okay, this site is now underway! I’m hoping to get everything updated by the end of this month…July. For those of you who are first visiting…basically this is a site to help you get in touch with death row inmates who are strong in Christ. Simply a starting point for what will hopefully be an amazing pen pal journey…much like the one I am on now.