Why 42 Steps?

"Take a good look at da scenery." The guy shackled to the seat in front of me said as the white gov't van made its way down Main street. "Yeah, take a good look at dem leaves and dem houses and da cars...the trees too. Yeah, take a good at dem trees because dez the last trees you eva gonna see until you get out from behind dem walls!" 


Pulling up to the massive stone structure placed perfectly on a hill overlooking the Kansas and Missouri plain I was in total shock. Nothing can prepare you for the sudden mass that comes into view. It looked as though the whole thing stretched a mile long - half a mile one way, half a mile another; in the center a great big dome coming out of the foundation. 


"As soon as you get in there you're going to have to get a knife. No, get two because the guards are going to take the first one." This coming from the guy shackled next to me. The two juicing us up were both traveling from the CCA down the street; warrant holds out for court writs. "And you don't want to be in Leavenworth without a knife." 


His words only added to the already mounting fear coming from the many stories a kid growing up in Kansas hears about this place I would now call home for the next 3 years. No matter how great my fear, I didn't want to show it - no sir. I figured if I would show fear it'd be a sign of weakness and next thing you know they'd take my shoes, my coat, my pants, my socks... OK, maybe not my socks but I knew I'd need my shoes. Seems the guy in the front seat of the van however didn't hold to that motto - either that or he didn't care who took his socks. "I'm not supposed to be here!" He cried out in a a cracked voice. "I'm supposed to go to the camp. I can't go behind those walls. That's not where I'm supposed to go!" His voice broke and I could see the tears well up. Funny trick the guards pull actually. They put the camp people in the same van as the ones going behind the walls. Probably to get the campers to act right by saying, "I'll throw you behind the walls if you..."


I can't vividly recall my first walk up to the R&D door but what I did notice off to the right was the massive staircase leading up to the front entrance. Later, on visit, my uncle Buck Langsford would count each step on his way to see me and he'd never fail to remind me of the count: 42. Yeah, 42 steps lead up to the Leavenworth penitentiary. That's why I chose to call my blog 42 steps. I was scared to death going in and  I'll talk about more of my times in there as I write. I plan on authoring a book by the same title; out by years end. 


It was only through God's grace that I made it without having to buy two knives and it was by His mercy I was set free down those 42 steps a man forever changed by his experiences. Some for the bad, many more for the good. Looking back I wouldn't change a thing of it. Not the ride there nor the first days of utter terror as I built in my head that this place was going to be really bad.