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Hobby Prison | Texas

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7 posts on this prison. Showing page 1 of 1.

Monday, July 14, 2014
Alicia marcum

I would never in my life want to ever do any hard labor like this any more we worked in the heat dirt covered us from head to toe "boss"talked stupid to us females called us BITCHES. Had to eat lunch all dirty and turn back out at times again getting stripped and searched all day every day. Water was low an contaminated no air conditions they called it happy hobby. I see why now your never happy. I was 8 ho. Never again 2005-2006.
wrote on Monday, July 14, 2014

    Hi Alicia. What is the hoe squad really like? What is a normal day like from beginning to the end.
[Reply]
3 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


Tuesday, June 24, 2014
whitney Jones

it is a alright unit
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0 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


Saturday, July 21, 2012
Someone who cares

You may feel that no one cares about you at the Hobby Unit but there are some that do.
[Reply]
3 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


Wednesday, April 04, 2012
cali

i was at hobby unit for many years as well. seg. young was a bitch..
First Lady wrote on Tuesday, June 24, 2014

    when did you get out
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3 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


Tuesday, November 08, 2011
chasity

"I was locked in Hobby Unit some years back. I spent 4 straight years there. I took my time there hard, and went in there thinking it was all going to be ok. I ll make my first parole and I get to go home to my 3 kids that I left behind. I was first placed in a building called 4 building where less trouble makers are. A lot of older women are there and needless to say, I saw parole and got a year set off.

After that I gave up and turned my life into a prison life. I ended up going to medium custody - that s where you only have a few hours out and most women in that custody mainly work hoe squad or the kitchen. When you worked hoe squad you would line up in two rolls and then walk out and get patted down one-by-one. You would then sit on the ground, back-to-back, and the rest of the day you would spend your time working with a hoe, picking things, or unloading trucks.

It was hard. I engaged in fights and got cases for talking back to the law. I had no respect for the law. While I was in medium custody I saw a girl hang herself in her cell on cinco de mayo (how ever you spell it). She told the law she was going to but the officer didn t believe her and her life ended that day.

Sometime after that another lady died on her way to school because she had a blood clot. I ended up allowing myself to let the system get the best of me. I ended up in close custody where I was locked all day except to work. I would get hand-cuffed everywhere I would go. I couldn t believe I was there but at that point I gave up. I watched a lady lose her life in the hands of her cell-mate. Girls would cut themselves everyday just to get away from the place or to follow their lover. Girls cut eachother, took their relationship serious. They always say that s who they would take to the world but little does it happen prison is nowhere to get lost in.

I was released in 2007 on no paper because I did all my time before I left. I had 3 fights which landed me in ad-seg, where you never come out ever. Hobby is the worse place to ever be. It s hard to make it in there, so whoever reads this take it from me: stay out and enjoy your life because still to this day my head isn t right."
[Reply]
7 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


Sunday, April 18, 2010
Princess

"I was an inmate at the Hobby Unit for many years on a drug conviction. I can still recall the fear I had pulling up to the gates. When new inmates arrive you are in the middle of a field, nothing but crops all around you. As I was taking in the scenery I noticed the guard towers- mostly I noticed the officer with the gun. I felt this terrible feeling of dread wash over me. The ride to the prison had felt like a one of those long youth group van rides I use to love going on as a teen.

It was the gate that brought the reality of my situation on me. As you enter the unit you are put into what looks like a basball team dugout, except this one had chainlink fence around it and a door that locked you in. My thought was...I don t want to play in this game.

Unfortunately it was too late. I had already decided my fate. So had the court. While you are waiting to learn what your house assignment and job is you sit there, in the bullpen, looking out at your new home. The cell houses like apartments, the sidewalks like city streets, and the exercise yard like the park- complete with joggers and sunbathers. It was all so familar. Like life had never stopped, just moved to this fake home with it s fake people.

As I was waiting to be called the women in the park stop to heckle and jeer, fear sinks in a little deeper. Some of the ladies on the yard were there to catch up with some of my team mates in the bullpen..seems some of my traveling party had been there before. One really scary girl on the yard speaks to me, I don t talk back, she says that I belong to her. Fear. The girl next to me tells me not to worry that the closed custody offenders can t get to us, that sometime it is harder if you are pretty. All of a sudden I regret having all my teeth and the natuarally curly hair that I had been complimented on all my life.Finally they call my name. I go in front of a group of three people that are to decide where I am to fall into the fake society of my new fake home.

They ask what kind of work I did in the world , I say I was a homemaker and we owned our own business. I also worked in the Library for our small town. I got the feeling they did not care. They gave me my housing assignment and announced my job, garden squad. I thought..hmmm..I know nothing about gardening. When I told my companions of my new job, they say I am on the Hoe Squad. Which as I was informed is a bad job. We all gather our bags to be led to our rooms..it is just like every prison movie I had ever seen.

You walk in to a guard station surrounded by glass...the glass is everywhere..all the way to the ceiling. The door to my pod opens with a loud pop. We walk in. I feel like a new student in a new class...the other students are sizing us up. The first roomie I had was an older lady that showed me the prison way of things..how to wash your clothes...what to buy from the store...how to make Ramen Noodles and ground up chips into a meal. The essentials. Who would have ever though that you should wash your panties in the toilet? Certainly not me.

I also did not know that you should never spit in the sink....I never did find out what you did do with the sink other than wash your face and hands. My first thought would have been to wash my panties in there..but I would have been wrong. It took me 3 more roomies to know that I wanted my own space, without a door that locks you in with killers or violent offenders for hours with no way out. There is a button, but the guards do not answer it. One girl got abused for hours before she could get away from her crazed bunkie. While I was there I made friends, not real friends..fake friends who were trying to get out of the same fake city I was.

My first birthday behind bars they threw me a party, complete with jailhouse cheesecake and a spread fit for the richest of inmates..you know, the ones that post ads that get lonely men to send them money on the promise of sex or marriage. The systems offers so many opportunities to excel. I started going to classes to get my GED and loved it, no more Hoe Squad. The Hoe Squad taught me lots of lessons..like what skin it on back means...that after 4 hours of picking and toteing watermelon you will get a bruise..that I was not made to be a laborer of any kind.

If you go to school fulltime you do not have to have a job. That said to me that the best way to spend my time was in a classroom...learning. Unfortunately, in addition to having all my teeth an curly hair, God also blessed me with a brain. So my schooling was finished pretty soon. There had to be another way! The Wyndam School District offers other classes. They call them non tradional something or others..I signed up. I passed my time in the Library reading...if I was not hoeing I was reading...that s when I found out that someone that worked in the library was getting ready to be realeased. I talked my way into a interview..I wasn t sure I got it.

I was so relieved when the news came that I did! No more hoeing for me. No more watching women go down in the hot Texas heat from heat stroke and getting no help...and then after they had a seizure or urinated themselves they were accused by the high riders ( officers on horseback..with a rifle..just in case you try to escape) of faking it. No more. Air condition and ice water here I come! I rquested to be moved to the convented 5 building..where it is dorm style. No individual cells, you have cubicals. Your own space. my second week in building 5 a lady in another building hung herself. We were on lockdown. No work. Johnny Bags for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Which I loved. The mess hall, or the fake city street to it was a dangerous place.

Girls would sharpen thing like tweezers and slash their lovers face. Fights would break out in the line..it was a place I avoided. Which was great for my figure...that is it would have been if I had not been taught how to make noodle recipes..The mess hall was not the only place to avoid. Unless you were in a relationship you really shouldn t go to the fake park. I learned early on that all conflicts were over these fake loves. I didn t understand, these women calling other women their wives and yet they only talked and saw each other during common times. No sexual stuff going on hardly at all. Then someone broke it down for me. If you are in there with no support you will need someone to help you get things like stamps and snacks...shampoos maybe....and then the saying was said..commississary is nessassary, please excuse the spelling.

AND they uglier you are as a woman the hotter you look when you reinvent yourself as a bulldyke. Who would have thought that the ugly gal you use to know could cut her hair and stop plucking those chin hairs and become a hot piece with a stable full of rich white girls who get money sent to them? Amazing. I saw alot of things while I was there. Some of it so bad I can t even speak it aloud. If someone is hurt, you can not help. If someone is fighting you must stand still until it is over.

If someone dies you are punished..and they are gone with no one to care for them or cry for them . That a postal stamp will buy you most anything. That most fights, stabbings, and slashings are caused by homosexual relationships in the womens prison system. Mostly what I saw is that the prison system is there to reform you and I am thankful each day to God from saving me from myself and to all the staff at the Hobby Unit who helped me to succeed and make it out of there alive.

As with any place, there are good people and bad, there were officers that really cared and did their jobs right- and then there where those who would bring you makeup and tennis shoes (no kidding) for a peep show or sexual favor. All in all what I know is this..who ever termed the phrase scared straight must have at one time been at the Hobby Unit gates."
cronilu9@gmail.com wrote on Sunday, January 05, 2014

    Are u still on here and wud u be willing to answer some questions?
Kaye wrote on Sunday, January 26, 2014

    Hi, um, I am trying to reach my long lost friend that we have conflicts. I would like to make amends. Did you meet a woman named Jennifer Holden, or go by Jenni, if so is she ok???
wrote on Thursday, May 15, 2014

    i know Jennifer holden I lived with her in 2 building I just got out in December and she had made parole for feb or march.
f. gammage wrote on Wednesday, June 18, 2014

    Sarah Haslam tortured n murdered my hadicapped son.I hope she goes through hell everyday there for rest of her life.

[Reply]
8 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


Friday, August 15, 2008
Blue

"Hi I was incarrcerated in Hobby Unit. I was falsey accused of Agg. Sex. Asst. of a Child who was 12 yrs. old. I spent most of my youth in the streets and not caring about anything or anybody. I was wandering the world to its fullest trying to fit in with anyone. I robbed, and even set a store on fire just to fit in.

I was robbing not for myself but for other people. They would tell me what stores and I would do it. I felt loved and wanted but it was the wrong set of people. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, at a house in Corpus Christi and from there everything went downhill for me.

I was trying to see what would happen and I got arrested and sent to Hidalgo County Jail. I didn't belong to Corpus but picked up the charge in Corpus. I was sent to Dayston State Jail and from there I went to Hobby Unit. I was in many Drama relationships and I saw everything from cuts, stabbing, to people killing themselves. Then that was when I realized that is not the life I wanted. I sliced my wrists many times. After five years in there I didn't want to go back and I thank God I made it out safe. The only thing I regret is the scars on the arms."
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17 Thanks prison story needs to be heard


7 posts on this prison. Showing page 1 of 1.


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