Devil's Knot_ The True Story of the West Memphis Three - Mara Leveritt [144]
Jason: Sixteen and “Tough”
On Monday morning, March 21, 1994, Jason was ordered into a van for the long drive to the penitentiary at Pine Bluff. He carried with him $50—$10 from an ex-inmate who’d visited him in jail and $40 from the jail’s warden—and a Bible given to him by his mother. After slipping into a seat by a window, he said,
I watched as the country went by. I looked at cars and their occupants, remembering when my mom, brothers, and I used to go on trips, and how we would drive way out into the country, in Mississippi, to my aunt Janette’s house, and how it would be a long trip, and I would watch the country pass by, just as I was doing now, except that then I was eager for the arrival. This time I wasn’t. I was thinking that it would be okay if the destination never arrived, that we could just keep on driving forever and ever, or maybe, the officer driving would take me home and say, “Sorry, Mr. Baldwin. We found out it was a mistake for you to be with us all along. Here, go on home.” And I would get out. The cuffs and shackles would be taken off of me. And I would praise God and run into the house.
But the fantasy remained just that. The van turned onto a dusty road that led to the prison department’s diagnostic unit, where new inmates spend their first few weeks. His heart beat fast when he saw the guard tower ahead, but everything else seemed to be in slow motion. When the van pulled to a stop, the officer in the tower lowered a milk crate on a rope. The officers from the van placed their guns into the basket and it was hoisted up. Then the bar in front of the van was raised and Jason found himself entering the walled and guarded compound.
He was told to get into a line with other newly arrived inmates who were waiting to be processed. An old inmate inventoried his few possessions and established an account for Jason’s money. “My first account,” the sixteen-year-old thought ironically. Then he was marched into a room where three men sat behind a table. They ordered him to get naked. Abashed, he removed his orange jumpsuit. “You think you’re tough, don’t ya?” one of the men said. Jason told himself, “I’ve got to be tough to survive all this.” In that instant he adopted that thought as his prison mantra. “Iam tough,” he told himself. Then he repeated the phrase out loud. The men at the table looked at the 112-pound kid standing naked before them. One of them chuckled, “He won’t be tough for long.”
In the shower room, where he was led next, the old inmate who’d inventoried Jason’s possessions stared hungrily at the boy. Jason told him not to watch. When the inmate continued, Jason stared him in the eyes. The old man bowed his head and left. It was a small but important victory. For the first time since his arrival at the prison, Jason began to think he might actually survive. But after the shower, the old man was back. He handed Jason some impossibly tight-fitting boxer shorts. Jason told him he’d better get him some that fit. When the man didn’t budge, Jason reminded him that he’d been sent to the prison for a triple murder. The man responded that Jason didn’t look like a killer. “Did you really murder those kids?” he asked.
“That’s what I’m in here for,” Jason answered, “so you’d better not mess around with me.” The old man left and returned with boxers that fit.304
Shortly after Jason’s first Christmas in prison, he received a letter from a man who said he’d worked as a counselor at the detention center where Jason and Michael Carson had been held.305The letter writer explained that “every word” Michael had said during his testimony against Jason had been based on conversations the counselor had had with him. The counselor explained: “We were discussing the case