To survive La Mesa you have to become aware of absolutely everything. You pay attention to smells, vibrations (no homo), and especially sounds. One never knows what is coming and if caught unprepared you are dead. It was a Tuesday morning around 10:15 that I heard it.
I was out in the yard working out with JD when I heard the familiar rumble of a shitty straight piped Cummins Diesel Pickup truck as it drove the southeast street that’s runs along the prison. I knew the old man was coming and I wondered if it was him. A few minutes later, I heard the same sound up the same street. As I listened carefully, I could tell that the truck was circling La Mesa.
“Oh shit Ed, was it your dad?”
You bet your ass it was my dad. The truck circled La Mesa 5 more times and I thought I heard it stop on the North east side of the prison wall. This was the side where families lined up to be searched before visiting their own loved ones.
I immediately went to the visitor area and waited.
After 30 minutes passed and as visitors started flooding the visitor area the hardened edge that I had acquired throughout my stay turned soft as I watched an older man walk through the door. The old man had short grey hair with a hat ring. Blue eyes that at one time had the sharpness of a predator. It was my old man. He locked eyes on me and started towards me. I stayed in my chair trying to choke the lump down my throat while failing miserably at soaking up the tears that were draining from my eyes with my dirty grey tee shirt sleeve. I was losing it and not only was I likely going to get my ass kicked for such an embarrassing display of weakness, my dad was going to give me shit for it too. Lol.

As he got to me, I stood up and gave him a hug.
He stepped back smiled and said:
Damn Ed, ya got a cold or something?
There’s a lot of damn Mexicans here ain’t there.”
He said it Loud enough for Half the prison to hear.
My Dad has no fear and has about as much tact as a Donald Trump twitter account.
He sat down and we talked. It was so nice to have the old man there. For some reason it brought me a little comfort. Only to be overcome by a little sadness as I studied the old man as he talked.
I don’t know what it is about Parkinson’s Disease, but besides the physical changes like losing motor functions and memory, it changes the eyes. The eyes are brighter but if you stare long enough you can see a hint of sadness. I wish I could explain it better. My dad has a muscular build for his age, Across the inside of one of his forearms is a faded shield tattoo that reads the Latin words “De Opresso Liber”. Words that mean nothing to some but everything to that 68 year old man
Here he is in Mexico, weakened by a disease and once again living by the faded words tattooed across his arm.
My old man.. In La Mesa telling me he is going to bust me out.
Holy shit.
To be continued
All My love no homo
Ed

• How to run a cycle in the Joint

1. How to run a cycle in the joint, Volume 2 Mexicana Boogaloo
2. How to run a Cycle in the Joint Volume 2; Chapter 2: La Mesa
3. How to run a cycle in the joint: Volume 2: Chapter 3: Mi Casa
4. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2 chapter 4: Trial
5. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2: chapter 5: Arraigo order
6. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2: Chapter 6: The cycle
7. How to run a cycle in the joint volume 2: Chapter 7: El tercer piso
8. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2 chapter 8: The hole game
9. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2 chapter 9: The Sancho
10. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2 chapter 10: Papa
11. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2 chapter 11: The old man cometh
12. How to run a cycle in the joint Volume 2 chapter 12: The Ritual