The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-07-22
Up From The Death Cell

At newspaper talk I'm like my sister when she tries to talk baseball
 "As a matter of fact" 1 inform ed her, I'm no newspaper man. If this is your first assignment, you're just one ahead of me"
 "In a way it's lot of fun. but I'll just bet they won't print a half dozen words of what I write" she said.
 Well, what are you going to writer" I asked, perhaps showing my amusement.
 q have no more idea than you do, maybe not so much"
 What did he tell you to write"
 "Well"-and she cleared her throat and tried to look very serious-"hc simply told me to come out here and see if l could find a story of any kind-thats the way he put it-said for me to try to meet some of the men who have mothers or children or wives in the outside world, and to write something about the pa thetic side of their lives"
 Who told you to see me?" I asked her.
 Bert oldman, who used to work here. When I told him and Mrs Oldman that l was to come--I wen: to him to find out how to act when I got here-he said for me to in- quire for you and that you would know exactly how to advise me-"
 Bert might overestimate my abil- ity" l suggested.
 She Nomlnatcs Me.
 q believe I'd like to write some thing about you, Mir. Kane" She spoke with apparent deep thought.
 Don't" held up a finger in warning. AS a subject I'm old; and no doubt great many of the people are tired of seeing my name in print"
 T have the names of several others here whom I'd like to see" She passed me list. I went to the deputy warden's office, where the warden himself was then seated.
 That little woman in there is trying to write some kind of story about the place and a few of the inmates" l explained to him. and don't believe she knows anything much about writing. Here"-and I handed him the list-"are some of the men she wants to meet"
 He glanced at the names. well, it won't hurt anything for her to talk with them, will it?" he asked.
 Certainly not" was my answer. But what if she should get some kind of tale tackled together that
  sion about hhe policy here"
 T hadn't thought of that" he re- turned.
 There's way out. That is for me to write the article myself and have her name at the head of it as au- thor. She's wanting to get into print with the story and perhaps she needs a few dollars-I feel sure that I can work it."
 He chuckled. "If she sees fit to have you help her with the story, and if you write just the truth. in fairness to all, why, go to it." I Help A Bit.
 Then the warden had the men whom she wished to interview called out. To each one I explained what was wanted, and with her secured from them some data concerning their home ties and their cases in general Then. after the last man had left the office, I began angling for her to ask me to help further with the story.
 What's to be the title of your story, Mrs C.?" I asked her.
 Tt will have to have a title, won't it? I hadn't thought of that"
 How would Lights and Shadows of Prison Life do?
 That's the very thing!" she told me exuberantly. Now why couldn't I have thought of that IS quickly!
 You might think of something bet ter than that later on. And now I'm going to suggest something to you about it-something that I'd appre- ciate from you, if our positions were reversed. If you're willing. I'll write a kind of brief of what l should sub init to the editor, were he to assign me to a job like this"
 "Oh, if you will!" she exclaimed. fr how anxious l am to get this done properly. and with your help l know it would be exactly right"
 "I'll mail you the skeleton story this evening; you'll get 1t in the morning-then you'll have time to tear 1t all to pieces, if you wish, and use whatever of the fragments you prefer"
 Another storm Breaks.
 The newspaper reached me ahead of her note of acknowledgment, and 1 saw she had not changed the story in any material degree.
 The next time she called, a week later, she thanked me in person for the help I had given her.
 But what do you think the editor said when he read over my story?' she asked. "He looked straight at me out of his old keen gray eyes, and said, Mrs. C., you didn't write this story-not by yourself"
 What did you say?' I asked.
 T made a bluff; I said to him, Why do you think that? And he answered, I don't think anything about it-I know it."
 Then what?"
 Well" she answered me, "I con- fessed in kind of weak and far away voice, I did have little bit of II h yNrir1 ted hn way"
 My own part in that story, sup posedly written by her, was not en- tirely to my conscientious liking, but I wanted to help her and to explain the new policy at the prison.
 That new policy, however, was sub jected to some terrible assaults dur ing the second year of it's operation. 1918. I got by without being singled out, for. while my name was men toned several times, 1t was merely as one of those who were, according to the opposition, being specially coddled and made over by the new prison administration. To this day 1t is a mystery to me why the warden was not attacked on the ground that he had one in my position doing his private work. Perhaps they never found 1t out, but If not, I cannot un- derstand why. There was lots of talk of several escapes from the prison grounds and the road camps.
 O o O
 The Warden Stands Pat.
 The warden himself took their fire without flinching. He went about his work, the main part of which was the constructing of state roads by the prisoners and the reconstruct ing of those prisoners themselves Whereas. under the old order of ( h inc baD would be unfit for work; after a sea son out in the open air and sunshine under the new. they would be ready for doing a full days work equal to that of any other man. The warden made 1t point to see personally that