Parchman Penitentiary: A Grim Reminder Of The Past

Parchman, Mississippi sits in the fertile heartland of the famous Mississippi Delta. One of the last real work farms left in the United States, the Mississippi State Penitentiary (formerly called Parchman Farm or Parchman for short) consists of around 18,000 acres, and is the oldest and only maximum security prison in the state. Built in 1901, the sprawling entity has 4,840 beds, divided into about fifteen work camps. Parchman houses all classes of inmates (men only), houses those sentenced to death, as well as the actual execution chamber itself.

In former years Parchman supplied inmates for labor in fields, building railroads, producing livestock, and providing various other labors and services to the state. Inmates still labor on the farm and manufacture goods at Parchman to this day. Like most old prisons of the south Parchman was run by tight fisted men of power who turned a blind eye to inmate abuse, rape, and murder. Most of the older inmates at Parchman still remember a time when the prison was considered to be “worse than slavery”.

Starting in the late 1960’s, the civil rights movement altered many of the practices in the south, and those used at Parchman were no different. When four inmates took a superintendent to federal court in 1972 because of civil rights violations, federal Judge William C. Keady ruled in favor of the inmates after finding that Parchman violated the standards of decency. An immediate end was ordered to all unconstitutional practices and racial segregation was abolished. Parchman was renovated in 1972, and among many changes made, a “trusties” system which allowed older inmates to guard other prisoners with rifles was put to an end.

Parchman has received much attention over the years, being the subject of books, films, songs, and poetry. Now thirty-five years after the first real changes came to the prison, it seems that Mississippi State Penitentiary has once again become a grim reminder of the past. In recent years, both inmates and those designated to watch over them have been citied for recent increases in contraband, violence, and turmoil. It isn’t uncommon for a corrections officer to be arrested for sneaking cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs into the prison. Escape is becoming more frequent, as is abuse, rape, and murder.

In April of this year, a mentally disturbed inmate claimed two guards had assaulted him with a pair of handcuffs and pepper spray in the shower area. A gang-related incident in May saw one inmate stab another to death with a shank fashioned from pieces of metal and a mop handle. June saw the suicide of an inmate who apparently hanged himself with a bedsheet

Some of the most recent events involve a semiautomatic pistol and two magazines filled with ammunition being located and retrieved from an inmate’s cell in the famous “Camp Thirty-Two”, the most restricted area in Parchman, where the worst offenders in the state are held in solitary lockdown. However, Camp Thirty-Two is where most of the violence and security lapses have taken place.

The transfer of Camp Thirty Two’s warden and the firing of the officer who found the gun and magazines have done nothing to stop the violence. A shakedown after the finding o the gun turned up several shanks fashioned out of air conditioning vents. This week alone has seen one inmate murdered, two inmates seriously injured, and a nurse practitioner carrying a firearm on the prison grounds.

The ACLU has filed charges against Parchman for inhumane treatment at the prison, specifically in Camp Thirty Two. Excessive noise, assaults by inmates and staff, the throwing of excrement, lack of exercise, improper medical care, and improper hygiene are only part of the reasons include in the ACLU’s case against the state.

While the rest of the South may be taking steps forward, Parchman Penitentiary serves as a painful reminder of all that Civil and Constitutional Rights had sought to change. Still standing on principals built by hate and violence, Parchman may no longer be “worse than slavery” but for most, if not all inmates who call the prison home, it certainly doesn’t seem to be any better.