Success in employing prisoners on the roads by modern methods depends first upon finding a road manager who is interested in his men and believes in the possibility of exciting their interest and loyalty for the work. It depends, second, upon creating such living and working conditions as will keep the men fit for a good day’s work. That means good food, good cooking, comfortable sleeping quarters, opportunity for proper recreation, good laundry work and bathing facilities, and, above all, the treatment of the prisoners by their officers as reasonable human beings.
The plan of roadside camps, portable cages, chain gangs, ignorant and cruel guards armed with shotguns and discretionary power will not secure cheerful and efficient work.
THE INDIANA PENAL FARM.
[This article, by Henry A. Montgomery, Staff Correspondent of the Detroit News, was incited by the plan of Detroit to build a large and expensive House of Correction. What other communities or States are doing will be told by Mr. Montgomery.]
Greencastle, Ind., March 13.—“Reform them? No, you don’t reform them. You can’t change a man’s real nature. But lots of them are not naturally bad. We get the alcohol out of their systems, give them all they can eat, make them keep regular hours and do a man’s work, and the good in them has a chance to show itself.”
That is the way Charles E. Talkington, superintendent of the Indiana State Farm, defined reformation.
The farm is situated in some of the most beautiful farming country in western Indiana, about midway between Indianapolis and Terre Haute. The site selected for the colony is particularly well adapted to the needs of a penal institution, being rich in its deposits of limestone, having plenty of tillable soil and considerable timber. The beautiful hills and deep ravines lend the tract beauty and make it possible for the landscape gardener with little effort to make it look like the estate of a wealthy landowner. Although general farming is engaged in, the products of the garden form so great a share of the subsistence of the men that this has developed into one of the most important features of the work. When present plans have been realized there will be at least 160 acres devoted exclusively to gardening.
It’s an unusual sight that one encounters on arriving at the top of the long hill where is built the little village, the home of the 700 social misfits. Two rows of long, squat frame buildings form the “street” of this strange town. Nobody would guess from the appearance of the buildings what they were intended for. They resemble the Billy Sunday tabernacle type of structure. There is nothing attractive about them, but they are temporary quarters and they are serving their purpose well.
The first of these buildings is the office and sleeping apartments of the officers. It is here that the prisoner is first taken. His history is recorded, he is subjected to a medical examination, his clothes are fumigated and stored away for his use when he is released, and he is given a bath, shave and haircut, and a suit of clothes. The clothes consist of the heavy working jacket and trousers, underclothing and corduroy cap.
The first interview with the prisoner is considered important. The assistant superintendent gives him detailed instructions as to his own conduct and tells him with great care about the theories that are being worked out. The number of men who, immediately following this talk, are placed on their honor and given as much freedom as it is possible to give is remarkable. Few of them violate the trust.