Wednesday, January 15, 2020
This morning we are surrounded by a very dense fog when everything in a prison seems to switch to panic mode. We are locked down in our units and everything else shuts down. When they let us go to the “chow” hall during fog, they take one unit at a time and the guards line the walkway to make sure nobody gets out of sight. We are subjected to standup counts in our cell every two hours, just to make certain nobody disappears (through the locked doors) into the fog. Yet I have a hard time imagining how someone could get through the fences and barbed wire even if they did escape notice.
I lay on my bunk, contemplating the times I was with Kathie up on the Shenandoah Mountain knoll at our cabin hideaway, and the early morning fog would come rolling in. We’d set in front of the woodstove reading the Bible to each other while bacon crackled in the cast-iron frying pan atop the woodstove. This was a very pleasant time of reminiscing, thinking back on the special feeling of coziness, being shut up safe, secure, warm, and well-fed with the love of my life while the clouds hugged the cabin.
I am so glad to have those memories, and thank God that those days are to come again, God-willing sooner than later!