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The Stolen - Jason Pinter [89]

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That got him one cigarette burn behind his knee.

The next morning, on September 9, Raymond Benjamin

thought he was in for the worst day of his life. The previous

night, one of the guards came by, dropping a single roll of

toilet paper into Ray's cell. Hope you got a clean ass, 'cause

this is the last one you're getting until the end of the month.

Frustrated, Ray threw the roll back at the officer, hitting

him in the head. It barely stunned him, but soon all of 5

Company was laughing their ass off. The guard turned red,

told Ray he'd see him in the morning and walked off.

While his fellow inmates hooted and hollered at the newly

christened "Officer Shithead," Ray sat in his cell, shivering as if death itself was waiting for him. And for all he

assumed, it was.

The next morning, September 9, all of 5 Company's

cells opened, the sign for morning roll call. All cells except

for Ray Benjamin's. As his friends walked past, they saw

him still in the cell, sitting on the edge of his bed, knees

quaking. Ray had never been so scared in his life. He

could hear the footsteps of the guards as they did morning

rounds, could hear the clomps as his friends walked past,

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knowing their buddy was about to face the worst beating

of his life. Perhaps the last beating of his life.

Ray sat there and prayed. He apologized to the Lord for

what his life had become. He apologized for his sins and

promised that, if he was given another chance, he would

make the most of it. He would right those wrongs. Ray's

eyes were squeezed shut, tears pouring out the sides. He

hoped it would be quick, if anything. That would be something to be thankful for.

Then Ray heard something odd. Footsteps coming back

his way. But they weren't the loud thump-thump of the

guards', they were the soft, muffled steps of the prisoners. Then Ray heard a man yelling, and damned if it wasn't

Officer Shithead himself.

"You assholes get back here, right now!"

The 5 Company prisoners didn't go back to roll call.

Instead they walked right back to their cells and sat down.

Possum, a big black man from Alabama, said, "Fuck you.

You gonna take one man, you gonna take all the men."

Possum was talking about Ray.

Soon Officer Shithead was marching down the cell

block, nightstick unsheathed.

Officer Shithead didn't live another minute.

After they'd beat him to death with his own baton,

Ray's brothers in 5 Company managed to get his cell open.

Several minutes later, a guard heard a commotion down

A Tunnel, went to see what the hell was taking 5 Company

so long, and that's when the devil unleashed hell.

Ray survived the riots with his life, his sanity, and just

one small scar on his cheek obtained on September 13

when the cops finally opened fire. A glass pane shattered,

carving out a chunk of Ray's face. William "Billy Buds"

Moss, a surgeon in lockup for raping a patient, stitched it

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253

together with a spool and tweezers stolen from the nurse's

office, moments before it went up in flames.

Raymond Benjamin would be ejected from the penal

system two years later. Thirty-nine people died in those

riots. Most of them were buried. Officer Shithead, Ray

later learned, had been burned beyond recognition. There

was barely enough of him left to bury.

Leaving Attica, Ray Benjamin was a changed man. Not

so much in deeds. He was still prone to violence, still had

the temper of a pissed-off Viking, but now he had a cause.

Not to mention a massive nicotine addiction. He told

friends that after all the pain cigarettes had caused him in

prison, he might as well get a little pleasure out of them.

Several times a month Ray would wake up at night, remembering that morning sitting in his cell, praying for forgiveness. Waiting for a death that, with mercy, decided to

pass him over. He never forgot that. Never took it for

granted. And every act of violence, everything he did that

"society" wouldn't approve of, was going toward making

things right. It didn't matter if people couldn't understand

it. He knew it was right.

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