The results of their work can be seen not only in the blankets they will produce today, but also on the yellow wall that is postered with cards, pictures and thank-you tokens from schoolchildren who have received stuffed toys, sleeping mats and cat hats from the group.
“This the only job I’ve had since I’ve been in the prison that I’ve got self-satisfaction out of,” says Willie Lea.
At Southern Correction Institution near Troy, the blanket recovery project has provided a way for inmates to give back to the community. Started in July 1998, the program got its name from the old blanket material with which the inmates make new blankets.
Joan Poole, executive director of the Moore County Chapter of the American Red Cross, remembers the first batch of material that the program received from the state. “It was in barrels,” says Poole, “almost rags.”
The inmates would wash the material and then press it before using it to make anything. When Poole saw this, she worked to help the program by calling Klaussner Furniture, manufacturers of fabric. “We took a van,” says Poole, “and they donated everything we could fit into it.”
Since that beginning, the crew has pieced together close to 25,000 blankets and countless other items to be given away to nonprofit agencies all over the state, including the Moore County Chapter of the American Red Cross, the Pinebluff Fire Department and the Moore County Department of Aging.
On this day, Poole is going to the prison to pick up an order of totebags that have been made for disaster preparedness kits. The kits will contain a blanket, a bottle of water and information on certain disasters. People may add items they might need, such as medicine or insurance information, in the event of a disaster.
The local Red Cross began working with the program in January 2000, after the big snowstorm. Poole says that’s when the Red Cross realized that, in the event of an emergency, there were not enough blankets for Moore County. Since then, the local American Red Cross has received more than 500 blankets and sleeping bags from the blanket recovery program.
‘Project Is Working’
When Poole walked in and heard the doors of the prison slam behind her the first time, she says, she jumped. This morning, Poole does not jump. In fact, it is obvious that she is eager to make her way through the narrow and winding halls that lead to the sewing room in which the project is quartered.
When Poole reaches her destination, she greets Correctional Officer Michael McIntyre with an embrace. McIntyre is the officer in charge of the program, the leader the inmates affectionately call “Mac.”
McIntyre has been with the program since its start. He says the project originated in Raleigh and came to Southern Correctional Institution as a pilot program, to see how it would work in a closed-custody prison. Closed custody is a step down from maximum security but a step above medium security. “So far,” McIntyre says, “the project is working.”
Inmates who want to work in the program must first submit a request for information to McIntyre. Then they are interviewed before being accepted into the program.
As Poole enters the room, faces light up and smiles appear. Today she has cookies; before, it was pizza. It doesn’t take long before Poole is making her way around the room, taking time to talk to her friends about what they are working on and the good they are doing. Beside her for most of the visit is Jerry King. King is the member of the group whom other inmates jokingly call “ the real boss man.”
Helping Strangers
“You give him an idea,” says McIntyre, “[and] he can do anything with a piece of material.” King says this is because he has been sewing since he was, “9 or 10 years old,” and at one time he even did it for a living.
King says the blanket recovery project is something he enjoys doing.
“You never know who you may be helping, “ he says. “Stuffed animals, all that’s for the children, and that’s really touching.”
The inmates devote much of their time making things for children. Today they are already working on stuffed toys they will give away at Christmas. Each year they choose a school and give children handmade Christmas stockings and stuffed animals. Last year they gave about 1,300 stockings.
The group also makes educational training devices such as occupational hand puppets. They even received a request from Gov. Mike Easley for two of their cat hats, similar to Dr. Seuss hats, for the Reading across America program. At Valentine’s Day, they worked to make Valentine cards for underprivileged children. The reward comes from the cards and pictures they receive in return.
McIntyre works in his own way to reward the inmates for a job well done. “ My wife and I own a restaurant,” he says. “Every once in a while we get permission to bring in a meal for the guys.”
The inmates are paid minimally for their work, although Jeff Edwards says he was a volunteer with the program for three months before he received any kind of compensation. But volunteering was something he wanted to do.
“It gave me something to occupy my time,” he says. “It gives me a sense of giving back and trying to alleviate the bad.“
While the inmates are paid a bit for their work, there is no charge for those requesting blankets and other goods from the program. “They usually try to get us material,” says McIntyre, “but that’s not necessary.”
Material Needed
Material is always needed for the project. Inmates are working on wheelchair cushions for the Moore County Department of Aging, and they need foam. In December, McIntyre was granted permission for the program to receive all of the waste cloth from the state, but the inmates turn out so many products that material is still in short supply.
As Poole finishes her visit, she takes a closer look at the stuffed animals being worked on today.
“I expect a rabbit when I come back,” she says. The workers know she will be back and happily agree.
When Poole says her goodbyes, she takes another trip through the winding halls, McIntyre and King by her side, to retrieve the totebags she is to pick up. As the cart of bags is rolled out of its storage space, King picks up the bag on top.
“This one is yours,” he says as he hands the bag to Poole. In the center is a red felt cross.
“This is special,” Poole tells him.
Poole says it is hard for people to understand why she knows it is going to be a great day when she gets to go to the prison.
“It restores your faith,” she says. “It lets you know that no matter where you go, you’ll find good people.”
