Retiring teacher, coach urges Colony grads to ‘find their 68’
By Jeremiah Bartz Frontiersman.com A football coach using a hockey reference as the centerpiece for his keynote address may
This story is a compilation of several interviews over a four-month stretch between Frontiersman reporter Naomi Klouda and Robert Norris. It is the third of several articles exploring how some Alaskans end up behind bars, what happens while they serve out their sentences, and options they are presented to assist with their rehabilitation.
Robert Norris was moved Wednesday to the Palmer Correctional Center. It's not a bad place, he said. Surrounded by white mountains beneath a too-blue sky, there's just wilderness and wind beyond the wire-topped fences.
"There are a lot of people here. I think it might be better than the Mat-Su Pre-Trial. We can move around more," Norris said.
Palmer Correctional houses inmates in separate buildings that appear almost like residential homes. About 36 men are housed in each building, he said.
A small church with stained-glass windows is at the end of one path down from the rows of buildings.
To eat, inmates are called by intercom in groups to the cafeteria, located at the other end of the path.
"Since I just arrived the other day, I'm still getting used to it. The first day I felt tense. Now I'm getting more comfortable," Norris said. "It's like, when you're new, everyone is looking you over."
A surprise was among the first day's events: a childhood friend is staying at the facility. Norris said he was glad to see him. The library is also bigger, he said, though he already has a book that's presently engaging him into the night hours.
Norris is serving a 20-month sentence for an Oct. 2, 2001 incident that started with drinking and ended with a police chase. At 18, it was his third DWI, which made it a felony, along with a felony eluding police conviction.
Over the past several months, Norris has grown more philosophical in his talk about drinking and alcohol, knowing it's the cause for his current convictions and past ones. Next month will be his 19th birthday, another birthday spent in jail.
He's heard there are good substance abuse courses at Palmer Correctional and said he is going to check them out. A program at Old Minto, in Fairbanks, also interests him, which he wants to attend when he gets out of jail.
He has served nearly six months of his sentence, most so far at Mat-Su Pre-Trial Facility. He made a request to go to a Fairbanks jail to be close to an aunt there, but the Department of Corrections determines where an inmate ultimately goes. The decision is mainly population-driven, said DOC spokesman Bruce Richards.
Right now, Norris is in the medium-security unit at Palmer Correctional. He's been told that later he could be moved. "There are a lot of young guys here," Norris said. "I don't judge people. I'm quiet. I try to get along with everyone."
Norris spends a lot of time reading. He recently spoke about "People of the Silence," a 700-page tome about the Anasazi people.
"(The author) starts off with some geographical facts, talks about the gods that are still worshiped today by the descendants. See, it begins in modern times with this 92-year-old grandmother who is dying of cancer. The doctors gave her medicine for her pain but she threw it away because she said she wanted to be pure and not clouded when she goes to the sky," Norris said.
After the grandmother's death, the story switches to the 11th century, traveling back in time. "It's a pretty cool story," he said. "They lived in these five and six story adobe houses."
Norris has been reading a lot of books with Native themes lately. "Yeah, I think I was always interested in that subject," he said. Norris is part Athabaskan, part Aleut and part Caucasion. Somehow the topic leads to the Alaska Federation of Native conventions to which an uncle or a parent used to take him when he was little.
"I really liked to go to that, it was interesting and there were lots of pretty Native girls," he said. "I liked looking at the art and knives at the crafts fair during AFN. Someday, I think I would like to go and speak about something. I don't know what I would talk about, but I think I would like to."
The AFN conventions take place in downtown Anchorage, which leads Norris to talk about the drunken people who spend their time in the area.
"I hate it that people get the idea Natives are just drunks because of the people they see downtown. Not just Natives are there. When I was a little kid, I used to get in fights with kids who said that to me," Norris said.
With all the books Norris has read in jail, he seems to be getting new ideas for his own future, what he wants for himself. College courses are in the realm of possibility when he gets out.
"The problem with English classes, though, is that I have to read what they want me to read rather than my own books," Norris said.
Maybe he would try it though, he said. These are the thoughts that help time pass.