Angola State Prison Rodeo...a Parody (short version)

Angola State Prison Rodeo…..
A Parody (short version)


Sunday, October 14th, Angola State Prison, Angola, Louisiana. The Notice read: “You are about to enter a penal institution…” We all puckered up.

We left Baton Rouge in a white van and rolled across 51 miles of desolate Delta landscape littered with dilapidated mobile homes and hulks of rusted-out cars. Two hours later we entered the razor-sharp concertina wire gates of Angola Prison, where the rodeo theme was “Guts and Glory.”

The smiling face of Warden Burl Cain on a massive black sign welcomed us. A stark warning came with it: “If you wish to leave the premises, all guns, knives, alcohol and contraband should be surrendered at once.” We quickly consumed the beer and yielded up the bucket of KFC, bones and all.

The prison stood stark amid the lush green pastures of The Delta. Livestock grazed peacefully, framed by miles of white rail fences. Small lakes filled with white pond birds broke the symmetry of the fields … so quiet and tranquil. But the serenity disguised the reality of the treacherous institution where death-row and hopelessness co-exist within the tranquility…. Surreal and unnatural, like being an intruder in the distorted reality of a Salvatore Dali landscape.

Inside the scene was chaotic. Multitudes of hefty flesh pressed together alongside rows of low tables filled with fried swine delicacies: chittlins, cracklins and pigtails. The cooking caldrons crackled and spit as pig fat hit the boiling grease. As each hot batch was dumped onto the tables, a new crowd shoved its bodily mass into the fray, while gnats and green blow flies swarmed and buzzed in the wild ecstasy of the feeding frenzy. Beyond, throngs of frenetic shoppers mingled among the cramped booths of itinerant vendors and petty hustlers hawking cheap trinkets and prison memorabilia. It was a monument to human ugliness!

Inside the arena the air swirled with excitement. Some 10,000 “locals” roared and cheered while groups of brawny men and Harley has-beens huddled in tight circles engaging in guttural utterances. The crowd bore a remarkable familial resemblance to the inmates….unnerving!

But here things can turn nasty in a hurry. A thick air of tension permeated the tight enclosure of plowed dirt infused with the thick odor of excrement, urine and fear. Only a 9-foot fence separated prisoners, bulls and spectators.

The inmate “cowboys” were corralled in a wire cage beneath the “hospitality suite!” From there Prominent Invitees and VIPs could make sport of this absurdity, and if bored could easily poke the prisoners with sharp sticks to keep them attentive. We wondered how extreme the Authorities had been to “encourage” volunteerism for these events!

The events probably originated with Caligula, and we saw no way for the participants to win except by death… a hellish, psychological price to pay, since it reaffirmed the participants’ view of themselves as “losers.” But hey, this was Louisiana, where the hole in the wall of the State Capital, created by the bullet that killed Huey P. Long, is still enshrined and worshipped by busloads of devout Cajuns.

One event stood out: four “cowboys” sat playing cards at a red table. An 1,800 pound bull charged the table …. bodies flew through the air, landing with loud sickening thuds in the soft moist dirt, unconscious. They left on stretchers! Two remained seated … in a snorting rage the bull charged again, narrowly missing the two remaining players who were frozen by fear. Buzz --- time’s up…. these two shared the $200 purse…and the music played on: “Dum, dum, dum, another one bites the dust…dum, dum, dum….”

Despite this brutish display, the crowd showed a felicitous empathy for the safety and success of the “cowboys.” The only break in the tense drama occurred when a fellow in a shiny red Elvis outfit brought out 3 sheep dogs ridden by tiny monkeys wearing cowboy outfits and chasing wild goats. The laughter was almost too much to bear, and some became incontinent in the constrained effort of containment.

Finally, the crowd grew restless and made its slow retreat out into the humid dusk of a declining Delta day. Joining the exodus, we wondered: “What was this all about?” We concluded that everyone today had at least one thing in common: A longing to grab all the excitement that can be found in this short life. So for a few hours our lives and voices were fused into One, as we all participated in this wild, unpredictable Spectacle of Life called a rodeo.

My backward glance revealed the “cowboys,” now prisoners again, shuffling in slow motion as they boarded buses for the short trip home. Suddenly, the sky exploded with 100’s of white pond birds, and in the gathering gloom of the sunset they began a slow flight south to their home.

As darkness fell, the wind stirred the leaves of a changing season. Veiled yellowed windows of dimly-lit houses popped out of the dark woods as ghostly shapes moved slowly about inside, casting eerie shadows as the white van lurched forward, roaring through the night with the singular purpose of going home.

The day’s events distilled as I drifted off to sleep. In my dreams I saw flocks of white pond birds bursting forth in freedom, floating silently overhead, homeward. And we also, in freedom, headed back home to elegant island living….


Bud
December 3, 2007