THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 21, 1996 TAG: 9604200132
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Random Rambles
SOURCE: Tony Stein
LENGTH: Medium: 85 lines
Since I am always eager to see that Chesapeake gets its fair share of class, I have a suggestion. When the new addition to the city jail opens, let's call it the Chesapeake City Gaol.
No, I did not flunk spelling. ``Gaol'' was the way the Brits spelled ``jail'' in the 1800s. They spelled it ``gaol'' but pronounced it ``jail,'' the kind of confusion that probably helped them lose two wars with us.
Anyway, no matter how it's labeled, Chesapeake is getting a bigger and better calaboose - a prime pokey, as it were. Right here, though, Sheriff John R. Newhart, Undersheriff Claude Stafford and Chief Deputy Dave Newby want me to say that this is not, repeat, not, some kind of country club with bars on the windows.
There will be TV sets, but not because we don't want the inmates to miss this week's ``Home Improvement.'' There will be an exercise room, but not because we want the folks to look trim in their jail suits. There will be a law library, but not so we can create a new generation of Johnny Cochrans and F. Lee Baileys. State and federal courts have told the people who run jails that there are certain things inmates have to have. If you think it's coddling, go argue with the judge.
The current Chesapeake jail was built for old Norfolk County in 1960. Then came the explosion of drug-related arrests and the mushroom growth of the city of Chesapeake. The jail is popping at the seams like size 14 jeans on a size 20 fanny.
So we needed the addition, and the Sheriff's Department got its collective heads together with a citizens' committee headed by acting City Manager Clarence Cuffee and City Council members John Butt and Pete Duda. They figured out a creative design and creative financing to help pay for it.
Like Yogi is not your av-erage bear, the addition is not your average jail. It will have 40-person dorms. The dorms, called pods, are a first in this part of Virginia. Instead of a deputy passing along a corridor maybe every half-hour, there will be a deputy right in the middle of the pod. It's direct supervision, Newhart says.
The deputy will be unarmed, but an electronic alarm can bring help fast and the pod can be isolated by clanging some doors in place. Newhart is enthusiastic about pods. He's seen them work well in Florida, California and Northern Virginia and he thinks they'll cut down both on manpower needs and the potential for trouble.
However, it takes well-chosen prisoners and well-chosen deputies to make the system work right. The pods won't be for the hard cases and rule-breakers. They'll still be over at the old jail. Being promoted to a pod can be a reward for good behavior, Newhart says. Being demoted back to a standard cell block can be a punishment.
As for the deputies on watch, ``No gun, no club, but a lot of training,'' Newby says. For instance, the deputies in the pods will have had special drills in cooling disputes with words instead of weapons. Part of that training uses videos. The deputies watch trouble brewing and have to choose the right response.
The price tag on the addition is $21.5 million. That's the bad news for Chesapeake. The good news is that the federal government will pay a big, fat chunk of that. What happened, Newhart said, is that he negotiated to house federal prisoners in the jail over the next 15 to 20 years. That will cover about 70 percent of the price tag.
Food for the jail will be provided by a private service company that bid for the contract. And food is another area where the courts have laid down at least some of the rules of jail operation. Inmates who say their religion bars them from eating regular jail food have to be given special diets. ``But we'll be alert to any deviation,'' says Undersheriff Stafford. No sudden conversions because today's menu looks good.
Target date for the first segment of the new jail is October and the finished project will eventually be able to house as many as 1,200 inmates. One particular bright prospect in the expansion, Newhart says, is that the work-release program can grow. That's the program that allows minor offenders to be outside on community service or private sector jobs.
They have to be housed in an annex, Newhart says. Otherwise, it would be too easy for them to bring contraband items into the regular jail. There will be more annex space in the new jail, meaning more work release. Good stuff, says Newhart. A prisoner earning money pays room and board and can help keep his family off the welfare rolls.
Oh . . . one more thing. No matter how they spell it, one of those ``Get Out of Jail Free'' Monopoly cards cuts absolutely no ice with Newhart, Stafford or Newby. Don't say I didn't warn you. by CNB