New corrections secretary vows to beat `good ol' boys'
By Christopher Sherman
Orlando Sentinel
Posted March 18 2006TALLAHASSEE · For years the Florida prison system was a place where family name often mattered more than merit. A father, son and grandfather could be found all working the same prison shift, "goon squads" doled out vicious beatings with impunity and softball was a ladder to power.
But now, the firing or forced resignation of 15 corrections employees, many of them high-ranking officials, has given rise to a new optimism among the rank and file that a no-nonsense interim corrections secretary is unafraid to go toe-to-toe with the good old boys.
James McDonough, a retired Army colonel, has replaced former Corrections Secretary James Crosby, who was forced to resign last month. A subsequent report by the Florida Department of Law Enforcement accused Crosby of trying to scuttle its investigation of the prison system by threatening one of his employees whose father heads FDLE.
"I will move as aggressively and rapidly as I can to unearth and uproot as much as needs to be exposed," McDonough told lawmakers recently.
And McDonough has his work cut out for him.
Scandals during the past year have included the federal indictment of several corrections officers for a steroid-distribution ring, two drunken brawls that included arrests of seven employees and a grand theft charge for an employee paid only to play on a prison softball team.
There also have been federal charges against two employees for bilking the department's recycling program and investigations into misused prison labor and state equipment.
Perhaps McDonough's most perplexing discovery is the elevation of softball to fanatical levels within the department.
Prisons formed employee teams years ago to give guards an outlet for their stress and build camaraderie. Over time it grew more competitive. Some wardens wanted the trophies and the bragging rights. "I've been in the department for 20 years, and I still haven't figured out the obsession with softball," said Jim Baiardi, president of State Correctional Officers chapter of the Police Benevolent Association.
But the game has been a common factor in several investigations.
Last spring, three employees were arrested after a brawl at a Tallahassee softball banquet. One of those was Regional Director Allen Clark. A Crosby protege who coached a softball team, Clark resigned in August and turned himself into police in November on a felony battery charge.
In October, a former minor league baseball player was arrested on a grand theft charge after he told investigators he was hired to help the prison team win the department tournament but never worked.
An internal department investigation released this week found that an assistant warden at Santa Rosa Correctional Institution was making false ID badges so non-employees could play on prison athletic teams.
McDonough, who couldn't be reached for comment late this week, has a committee studying various trust funds worth about $1.5 million that prisons used to fund extracurricular activities. McDonough froze the accounts shortly after his appointment. There also is an ongoing review of the department's contracts.
With the wave of leadership changes, McDonough is fighting what he termed "a culture steeped in violence and brute strength and force."
In the high-stress prison environment where guards are susceptible to attack, insults and threats, an "us vs. them" attitude prevails.
Rookies quickly realize that "the only thing standing between you and possible death is your colleagues," said Ron McAndrew, who spent 27 years in the department rising form a corrections officer to warden before retiring in 2002.
Those who try to fit in adopt the appearance and swagger of the officers they perceive to be in charge. They talk down to inmates and don't hesitate to mete out violence at random, McAndrew said. He emphasized that only a few corrections workers fall into this category.
A larger group does not participate but turns a blind eye fearing retaliation. Some wardens condone it, having advanced through the same ranks, McAndrew said.
Transfers are so common in the corrections system that it helps what McAndrew called a cancer of abusive "goon squads" spread and avoid punishment.
The prison system has been described as "inbred" because of the extended families that link many of the facilities. For years the heart of the prison system was a cluster of lock-ups in rural north-central Florida that became known as the Iron Triangle.
Generations of the same families found jobs with the only employers in town. Crosby was an Iron Triangle product, growing up in the shadow of Florida State Prison. McAndrew tells a story of meeting a father, son and grandfather all working the same shift during one of his first days as warden of that prison.
Christopher Sherman can be reached at csherman@orlandosentinel.com or 850-222-5564
Interim Director James McDonough
