Purim in Prison

A little bit before Purim, Adam and I heard that a few bochurim were needed to read Megillah in prison. We volunteered and were picked to go to Port Phillip Prison w/ the Jewish chaplain, Mrs. Rubin.

That Purim morning I was up at 9:00 (despite being up till 3:45) and davened shacharis at YC, the Jewish school down the street. While I was there I was sure to set up a little box and put the Yeshivabound.com card on it to raise a few dollars. Naturally there was a hiccup w/ getting our megillahs but we borrowed and we were finally on our way (10 minutes late).

We finally set out to Mrs Rubin’s house. Adam and I were to go to Port Phillip Prison while the two other guys w/ us, Yaakov Backman and Hershel Gross, were going to MRC another prison nearby. When we arrived we were greeted by a very enthusiastic and cheery blond woman who was the very Mrs. Rubin that we were looking for. She gave us a couple bags of hamentachen and a box of cherry nougats (which we munched on the way).

We all piled in the car and we were heading out. On the way there it occurred to me that this Mrs. Rubin had the perfect personality for her job. It seemed to me that she was the type of character that maintained a cheery air yet also encompassed a sensitivity and concern for the troubles of those around her – qualities I imagine are crucial to her position. She was also very experienced, some 17 years if I recall correctly. Probably the most distinguishing quality I detected was that she was definitely dedicated to her job and to the people she helped. Her shlichus to the prisons went beyond simply visiting the Jewish inmates and giving them what they need for food and holidays etc. Her program also offered legal support before and stayed in touch even after the person left prison. I could really tell, from the way she spoke, that she genuinely felt for these inmates w/ a true sincerity. She had even put up her house as collateral for bail so a Jew would not have to sit in jail until trial (and found innocent). She was quite an inspiring woman.

We had dropped the guys off at MRC and headed off to Port Phillip Prison. When we arrived we began to get through security. While the guys at MRC had to go through a whole bunch of red tape and even a retina scan, we had a fairly easy time getting through being that PPP is a privately run prison while MRC is Gov-t run. We signed in, put our stuff in the X-ray machine (two pairs of Teffilin, a box of cherry nougats, a small bag of hamentachen, and a small shaloch manos, along w/ our hats and jackets) and passed through the metal detector. They then briefly rummaged through the stuff by hand and let us through. Then began our passage through a series of doors. Mrs. Rubin’s key wouldn’t work for the first door but they fixed it or something and we got through. Then another door, which lead to a turnstile, which went right into another door, and finally we were actually in the facility.

It was spacey. We found ourselves in an open grassy area w/ a sidewalk passing through. There were different buildings around for different things. We walked up the path to yet another door. It was unlocked after we were properly identified. We walked passed a building that contained classrooms and other various things for activities to our right. To our left was a chain link fence which beyond it had some units where prisoners stayed. Of course, we reached another door which was unlocked by a guard in which we entered into what seem to be the most somber area of the prison. One thing I noticed was that the prison grounds had a lot of space and this area, which contained the newest unit, had the most. It was quite a scene straight out of the movies. What met our eyes what a huge area populated by very unhealthy and patchy grass. It was in the corner of the complex and the towering concrete walls of the perimeter were visible from all sides. The walls were menacing, enormously tall with large black numbers labeling each section. A single concrete walkway, sparsely lined with young seemingly dead trees, lead to a single building in the distance in the middle of this dismal area. It was also hopelessly windy. My hat had blown off and rolled into a dirty patch of land. We went to the building and through the heavy door, and then another door, and then we were inside.

Inside was surprising. It was nothing like what you would expect from and American prison. Not at all. It looked somewhat like a dormitory. To my left there was a cafeteria area dotted w/ round tables and chairs where some inmates clad in green T-shirts and pants were sitting. To my right was a lounge looking area which had comfortable looking chairs and couches and beyond that inmates were enjoying games of pool. Stairs to my left lead to the cells which surrounded us on all sides above. I looked up at them and they appeared to be small single person cells. Right in the middle was what looked like a control center where we could sign in. all jokes aside, the place seemed a lot like a Sunday afternoon in my old yeshiva. Of course, no matter what it was like inside the facility, you need only to look out the window at those forbidding walls to be sharply reminded that true freedom was beyond your reach.

When we walked in we were greeted by a, not fat, but roundish man w/ a childlike face a little shorter than I. We’ll call him Mr. A He was happy to see us and as providence would have it there was yet another Jewish man in the very same unit! We went to sign in while our friend went to go fetch the other Jew, Mr. B. We went into a small room next to the stair case which appeared to be a classroom of sorts. It was all white illuminated by florescent lights. There was a white board on each side of the room (the room could be partitioned in half) and in the middle was a round white table surrounded by five white chairs. It had two large windows looking out to the field beyond until your gaze collided w/ the concrete perimeter. There was also a window looking back inside the cafeteria area where I could observe the inmates mopping and putting away the chairs and such. Soon our fellow Jews entered and we heartily shook hands. We were introduced as young rabbis in training which they seemed to find somewhat intriguing. Adam unrolled the Megillah while Mrs. Rubin found out how they were doing and did some catching up with them.

Adam began to read, after having them say the brachot, and what followed was a very sweet sight. These two inmates, who were sentenced for crimes a little more hardcore than tax-evasion, sat w/ child-like attention. Mr. A especially, whose face I mentioned appeared child-like, rarely broke his gaze at Adam and the Megillah. Mr. B sat and listened with a faint smile on his face as he listened to the words. Every time we booed Haman they would hit the table or clap briefly while breaking into large grins. After Adam read and rolled up the scroll Mr. B reached over the table and grabbed the end because he wanted to touch it. Mrs. Rubin gave a bag of hamentachen to Mr. A and the shloch manos bag to Mr. B and explained that they need to trade to fulfill the mitzvah and then they could eat the goodies together. They both wanted, and expected, to put on Teffilin – and all the other inmates could see! It was beautiful. They did so and began to chat w/ us. Mr. A was happy to say he was going free after 16 more weeks. He had gotten bad break. The day he got sentenced, a newspaper ran an article about the same judge and how he was giving sentences that were too short. The judge had read it.

These men were easily double my age, they had committed what they did and were now in prison, yet, in the presence of the Megillah and the shloch manos, they seemed so much to me like children. I don’t even know if they even knew what Purim is about, yet these two men treated the Megillah, shloch manos, and Teffilin, w/ such a mindful sincerity that it could have inspired any Jew.

The time finally came where it was time to go. We went to sign out when I remembered that I wanted to give the men a quick word about the holiday. I gave them a quick d”var torah about how we learn from the Megillah, that even though we need to do all we can to help ourselves, in the end Jews trust in Hashem to get us by. I felt so accomplished as we left the facility.

We had to go through the same series of doors to get out which took a while but we were finally free. Mrs. Rubin was very appreciative and told us we had done really well and even said she would like to have us over for Shobbos sometime. We told her we would love to accompany her occasionally on Friday to put Teffilin on the inmates which she thought was a swell idea. We agreed we would stay in touch and let her know whenever there is a Friday where we are available.

It felt extremely good to have done something so significant. I believe Mrs. Rubin had done us the favor by giving us such an opportunity. I can’t think of anything more meaningful I could have done that Purim morning.