Rock The Cradle Of Love

Serving a nickel at Calico Rock in late ‘93, I use to notice the warden’s daughter cruising around the fence on her ATV. Blonde, buxom and beautiful, all the convicts knew who the pretty little girl was. She’d sometimes smile and wave as she passed. Rumor had it she was still only 17. Guys couldn’t wait for yard call so maybe they could catch a glimpse of her ample breasts and tiny tight looking thighs. No one really cared she was still under the age of 18. Fantasies of screwing the warden’s little girl gone awry. She wasn’t allowed inside the prison gate. Her father made certain she stayed outside. A maximum security joint full of killers, robbers and rapists, he knew what he must do to keep her safe and alive. Some inmates, known as trustees, were allowed to work outside. A 1-B trustee had to work under direct supervision. A 1-A however, could work and be trusted alone. One such trustee was a friend of mine named Mike. Doing a hot 35 for conspiracy to commit murder, Mike was the prison electrician. He’d leave the prison to work on the Assistant Warden’s house under construction on the free-line.

The free-line was where all the upper level prison staff houses were being built. From the Field Lieutenants, to the Captains, the Majors and right on up the line. All staff members were furnished with housing on the free-line. At the time, North Central Unit at Calico Rock was relatively new. The only house completed and functional was the warden’s where he and his family lived. The A.W.’s was the next in line for habitation. On Sunday, Mike would sign out at the sally port gate and walk off into the woods to work on the wiring at the Assistant Warden’s house. With no supervisor, Mike could pretty much do whatever he wanted to do. If he wanted to work he could. If he didn’t, he would just hang around in the shade away from the idiocy of prison enjoying his privacy while he could. Sometimes he’d cut down small cedar trees and trim them into boards with a planer. Then he’d bring them back to the joint and sell them to the hobby craft guys who’d use them to make jewelry boxes and picture frames. With no prison pay, Mike had to hustle, that which helped him survive.

Mike and I would sit and watch tv together at night. One evening he leaned over and said to me, “Tripper! You’re not going to believe what happened to me today!” That’s when he told me the warden’s daughter showed up at the house where he was working riding her four wheeler. “Hi!” she said flirting and batting the eyelashes of her pretty blue teenage eyes. Nervous and uneasy Mike replied, “Hi! Do you know how much trouble I could get into for just talking to you? I hate to be rude, but please go away.” Not understanding the seriousness of the situation, the cute little blonde was adamant that she was going to keep hanging around. Mike was paranoid as hell when telling me what happened that day. He’d been in the department of corrections long enough to know how the system worked. He knew if the warden, or any of his cronies for that matter, caught him speaking to the girl he’d be put in the hole and they’d throw away the key. “I didn’t want to be mean to her Trip. But she just didn’t understand. What am I going to do?” “I don’t know,” I said. “But better you than me.” Perplexed, Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Every Sunday after that, I couldn’t wait for Mike to come in from outdoors so he could tell me about the events of the day. He wasn’t trying to have sex with the girl or even flirt with her in any way. If the truth were to be known, she probably had a crush on him - not the other way around. She just wouldn’t stay away. When Mike and I would go out on the yard to watch the softball game through the week, she’d sometimes ride by the fence, look at Mike and wave. “Man if she was only 18, I might give her some play. I mean, I know I’d get in trouble. But she sure is pretty and awfully friendly to boot.” I could see Mike was getting a bit braver and a little more at ease. But nonetheless, she was the main warden’s daughter and Mike knew he shouldn’t be fucking around. At the larger prisons, the warden’s houseboys were notorious for getting their daughters pregnant and/or screwing their wives. A houseboy being a servant or maid.

Weeks rolled by and it was getting close to May. The warden’s daughter was now wearing terry cloth shorts and sleeveless tops. Looking good, all the men took notice of her as she passed. One day Mike came in physically shaken and white as Casper the ghost. When he finally calmed down, I got him to tell me the story. “He almost caught us Trip! He was this close!” putting his index finger and thumb together to indicate just how so. “What do you mean Mike?” I pushed further. “She walked up through the woods and was standing there talking to me when we heard a four wheeler coming. Suddenly she said, ‘Shit! It’s my dad!’ I had to do something so I helped her up into the rafters of the house. When she was climbing up she almost fell. I had to catch her then push her up by the seat of her pants. To make matters more difficult, she put her arms around my shoulders and kissed me when I did!” “Aw fuck Mike! What happened next?” I asked giddy in my seat.

“He pulled right up to the A.W.’s house, looked at me and said, ‘Have you seen my daughter’?” Seeing the look on Mike’s face I knew he’d about shit his pants. “No!” “Are you sure?” the warden said with a sly look and squinty eyes staring all around. “No sir, I haven’t seen her. I didn’t even know you had a daughter Warden Jones!” The warden looked side to side, all around, then straight up at the ceiling where his daughter stood in silence hiding above. “She’d better not be no where around here convict. Because if she is, and I find out? You’re damn sure going to the hole!” The warden got on his four wheeler and rode about 100 yards to the west, turned the machine around, sat there facing the house and watched. Scared out of his wits Mike said he whispered under his breath, “Stay up there and don’t make a sound!” Taping some wires, Mike remained cool and did his best to play it off. Finally, the warden got tired and rode away. The girl came down, kissed Mike again, and reluctantly went on her way. “Man Trip! I really like that girl. But I’m sure afraid of getting in trouble.”

Never found out exactly what happened after that. I was released from prison May 11, 1994. The inmate’s name was Mike Barber. He might be out by now. I’m sure that particular warden has long since retired. (His last name really wasn’t Jones by the way). I know for sure he’s not at Calico any more because I met the new warden’s wife recently. She was a correctional officer at FCI Forrest City where I just left. If that girl would have been 18, there’s no telling what Mike might have done. He may have ran off. who the hell knows. Lots of trustees jump ship and take off running through the woods. With a 35 year bit and no chance of parole, I wouldn’t have blamed Mike if he did. I know if I were to have been in his shoes, I sure as hell would have. I would have stolen the warden’s car and taken his daughter with me too! Nah, not really. But you know what I mean. If anyone knows Mike Barber of north central Arkansas, please tell him I said hello. A question in closing for all the guys … How ’bout it?

Would you have “Rocked the Cradle of Love?”

I am Tripper!

Better Days!