AFTERNOON SESSION
Col. Joseph S. Pugmire, of Toronto, Ontario, submitted the report of the Committee on Discharged Prisoners. He said in part: “The day of the prisoner’s discharge is a critical time. So much depends upon how he starts life again. The attitude of society toward the released prisoner often hinders those who are trying to save him, and makes his lot hard. They say: ‘There goes a criminal; give him a wide berth; he is not to be trusted, but is coming out to do what he did before.’ I do not excuse his wrong, but I plead for such to have a chance. It is not enough to lecture him and even pity him. We must go beyond that. What impresses me with regard to these men (and I have dealt with thousands) is not that they are resentful and vicious, but that they are as helpless as babes, powerless to help themselves.
“I contend that we are doing society a great injustice, as well as the prisoner himself, to allow him to step into liberty again without some careful oversight. What the discharged prisoner needs is a real friend who will give him the opportunity to rise and do better on the causeway of redemption, meeting him at the prison doors, arranging a helpful environment and providing him with employment of some kind.”
In his address on “The Duty of Society to the Discharged Prisoner,” Bishop Samuel Fallows, of Chicago, emphasized two points: 1. The discharged prisoner is a man and a brother; therefore our sympathy must go out to him. 2. Society must do its utmost to rehabilitate the one who has infracted the law, and above all to give him employment. If a man is willing to work it is the best evidence that his reformation has begun. Statistics show that the majority of those who are again usefully employed turn out well.
In the discussion which followed, Warden Wolfer, of Minnesota, made the suggestion that prisoners should be allowed increased earnings for overtime, to be applied to the support of the families of married men and to give single men a start in business when they leave prison. In this he was strongly seconded by Dr. F. Emory Lyon, Superintendent Central Howard Association, Chicago, and Warden McClaughry, of Kansas; and the latter was subsequently instructed to prepare a resolution on the subject to be submitted to the congress.
In his paper on “The Man with the Bundle,” the Rev. Frank G. Brainerd, Superintendent of the Society for the Friendless, Kansas City, laid stress on providing the discharged prisoner with work and wholesome recreations and inspiring him with high ideals. In speaking of the work of his society, he said: “The men, upon release, are given every necessary assistance and care. It is the custom in the West to take the discharged prisoner directly to the home of the Superintendent, that for a few days he may live under his roof, sit at his table, find a home with his family and be made to believe that wholesome and clean ways of living are for him also if he wills it. It is the custom then to find him congenial employment, to fit him out an extra suit of clothes, a change of underwear and, if necessary, an overcoat. These are contributed by friends of the society over the State. A suitable boarding place is found, new friends are provided, money is loaned and board bills are guaranteed if necessary, and he is given friendship, oversight and counsel in his effort to live a new life.
“Little can be known by the public of the heroism and the pathos of the struggle which many a man makes with the all but overpowering odds against him. Success achieved by others with hardly an effort can be attained by him only after an almost superhuman struggle. Right choices that make themselves for others are absolutely heroic for him. Had he their habits and self-control, half the effort with which he now barely escapes failure would bring him splendid success. Knowing nothing of his battles, others cannot realize the fight he makes for his victories.
“E. g., a Scotch-Irishman, forty-six years old, made the remark during his first meal at our home that it was the first time in his life that he had eaten at a table where they had napkins. He was not without much native ability and an instinctive mannerliness. His mother had died when he was a baby and he had had no home since seven years of age. He had been a drunkard for years, had been in jail several times for pilfering when drunk, and finally was sent to prison for breaking into a box car and stealing merchandise. He was released on parole. There never was a kinder man about the house, and after he was provided with employment and a boarding place no week passed without his coming back once or twice for a little call. He said that it was the only home that he had ever had. He never drank another drop of liquor; he chose an entirely new sort of companions, and when discharged from parole had $200 in bank. During that time, when the family of the Superintendent were away on a visit and the Superintendent himself away about half the time, this man was given the keys of the home and stayed there in full charge for seven weeks.
“Another notable case is that of a man who had been a criminal for thirty years. He had spent thirteen years in prisons and had stolen during the other seventeen years an average of more money each year than any prisoner’s aid society in the United States expends annually. He had never earned a day’s wages outside the penitentiaries. That man has been toiling in heat and in cold and has been self-supporting and absolutely honest for the last year and a half. In the panic last fall he was temporarily out of work and money, yet his courage did not leave him nor his success fail.
“Such men are in direst need. It is a happiness to grip their hands and to strengthen their purpose; to have them sleep under one’s roof, eat at one’s table and breathe hope and courage at one’s fireside. Some are good, some indifferent, some bad. It is not for us to choose among them, but to offer opportunity to everyone who knocks at our doors.”