IBO - Brian R. Lundin (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

don’t cause any trouble have television and dayroom privileges, allowed to mingle with other students, go to classes and can shop at the canteen, have free outside time and is granted more freedom. Troublemakers are locked in their cells all-day and only allowed out for showers three times a week.


“We have a three strike rule here, the first violation is the loss of television privilege for a month, the second violation is a loss of television privileges and gym activities for two month and the third violation involves the student being sent to a Disciplinary Unit in another state.”
“What about gang members, how do you handle that problem,” Chris asked.
“There are no gang problems here; our students according to their background checks were not members of any gangs. Our students are mainly young men who met the Federal Guidelines of race and age, gangs members are sent to other camps, which we call the Re-Indoctrination Camps.”
Chris made a mental note to find out more about the Disciplinary Unit and the Re-Indoctrination Camps. Vice-President Warren smiled he knew what the Disciplinary Unit and the Re-Indoctrination Camps were.
“Thank you for your time sir,” Chris said saluting with a smile, the salute, Leo returned the smile and salute.
Johnny led Chris and his camera operator out the office.
“Where to now, Johnny,” Chris asked.
“Our next stop is the student dormitory; I was told you wanted to interview some of our students.”
After a short walk, they entered a bland four storied off grey building. As they entered, Johnny pointed to a large room that contained three televisions mounted approximately seven feet in the air.
“This is the television room, every dormitory has one and the students can come here in their free time and watch television programs that we select. Most of the programs are sporting events and some light comedies and movies, no violent programs are allowed and they cannot select the programs. As they continued down the long hallway, Johnny pointed out the gym where he explained the students played basketball and there was a baseball field outside. Further down the hallway were small rooms.
“These are the student rooms,” Johnny explained. “The students are in class now, but they will be out in a few minutes,” Johnny continued.
In a few minutes the building filled with young black and brown men wearing green uniforms and green caps that read “Trinidad.”
Two young black men entered the room.
“What’s up Dave,” one of the youths asked.
“This is Mr. Tolver and his cameraman, they are reporters from CNN Television and they would like to interview you.”

“Hi guys just call me Chris and this is my camera man William, mind answering a few questions for my show?”
“Hi, Chris, William, my name is Richard and this is my roomie, Thomas,” Richard said.
“I think I have seen you on TV,” Thomas said shaking Chris and William’s hand.
“Thomas, Mr. Halster want to see you,” Johnny said.
“Ok, nice meeting you guys,” Thomas said as he left the room with Johnny.
“I’ll be back shortly, “Johnny said.
“Where you from, Richard," Chris asked.
“Chicago, Robert Taylor Homes,” Richard answered.
“No shit, oh, I’m sorry,” Chris said covering his mouth and smiling.
“Me too I grew up in the jets.
“Excitedly Richard asked what building?”
“09,” Chris said, “I did too”, Richard responded.
“Small world man, small world, Chris said.
The young man exhibited a big smile and sat on the lower bunk of the bed, relaxed. Robert did not know that Chris was lying, he grew up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, but he had read news stories about the Robert Taylor Homes, the largest public housing development in the world. The youth gave Chris the out-dated Black Power sign and Chris responded likewise.
“How do you like it here,” Chris asked.
“It sucks, too many rules, somebody is always telling you what to do, when to eat, when to sleep, when to get up, when to go to bed, next they will be telling you when to take a shit, they both laughed.
“I am going to ask you some questions that I hope will not be embarrassing, ok?” Chris asked.
“Ok,” Richard responded.
“First tell me about yourself, your age, education and so on.”
“I am twenty four years old and I have been here since I was eighteen,” counting on his fingers Richard continued. I dropped out of grade school when I was in the sixth grade.”
“Why did you drop out so early,” Chris asked.
“I got tired of being teased by the other kids because of my clothes, which was always dirty and ragged.”
“What about your moms’ and pops’? Chris asked.
“I never knew my pops and my mom’s was out there doing her thing, she was high most of the time and was never at home, me and my two older brothers and two younger sisters had to look out for ourselves. There was never any food in the house, so my brothers and me would shoplift food from the Arab grocery store or roll drunks to get money to buy food. That’s the only thing I like about this place, they feed you good,” Richard said rubbing his stomach.
“My older brothers are in another camp somewhere and I don’t know what’s happening with my sisters and my mother, I would like to see them,” Richard said sadly.
“Was you a member of a gang?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, I was a State Street Boy for a little while, but I got out when we moved out the “jets,” Richard said proudly after punching his chest.
A commercial interrupted the broadcast and when Chris came back on, he was behind his anchor desk.
“Join us tomorrow night for part two of our in depth story on the “Camps, this is Chris Tolver for CNN, good night.”
“Good show,” Vice President Warren said to the television before turning it off. He picked up his briefcase and alerted the Secret Service Agents in the control room before going into his bedroom.
In a few minutes, two heavily armed agents came into the house and activated the electronic wire fence. Warren took off the pajama shirt and got into his oversized round bed. He remembered how he and his parents would always say their bedtime prayers together in this room, but tonight Warren did not say any prayers like he use to with his parents, he was angry with God.
Chapter 52
After the success of his program on the Re-Education Camps, Chris and his producers decided that their next show would be on the Re-Indoctrination Camps. Even with the political connections that CNN had, they could not get much information on the camps. Chris Tolver and Hill decided they would visit the camp located in the Bridger-Teton National Forest just outside Jackson Hole, Wyoming. CNN producers contacted the camp and used their political connections to obtain permission for Chris to visit the camp.
Chris and his Hill arrived at the Laramie International Airport where their driver Walsh Turner met them. The people at CNN had told Chris that Walsh Turner was native Wyomian. His family had been in the area for years and his great grandmother was a full-bloodied Blackfoot Indian who married a legendary Mountain Man. Walsh had attended Colorado State University and was majoring in law but was expelled after a deadly fight with three white students who disliked him because of his Indian heritage. Walsh supposedly broke one of the students neck and severely injured the two others. No charges were placed, but he was expelled. He came highly recommended as a top-flight guide, hunter and outdoorsman.
Walsh appeared to be about forty-five but looked very fit. He was tall and lean and had a weather-beaten face with hawk like features and a full white beard. The ten-gallon black cowboy hat and black cowboy boots reminded Chris of a character out of an old cowboy movie.
“Hi, I’m Walsh Turner; your company hired me to be your driver and your guide. I have rented a four-wheel drive SUV for our trip, Walsh said.
Walsh had a resonant voice and clear diction but he also had a detectable western drawl.”
“Hi Walsh, I’m Chris Tolver and this is my cameraman William Hill, nice meeting you.”
The men shook hand and after getting their luggage, they drove out of the airport.
“I understand that you were born and raised in Wyoming," Chris said.
“Yes, in a little town called Riverton, I’ve lived here all my life. My grandpa and father were coal miners and they did pretty well until the mines went bust and everything went to hell, now during the tourist season, I hire out as guide for backpackers, hikers and want to be outdoorsman, it’s a living,” Walsh said shrugging his shoulders.
Looking at a map, William asked Walsh, “How far we got to go?”


“It’s about four hundred miles to the camp, but it’s a nice day and should be a pleasant ride, it’s about 7:00 am, we should get there about three or four o’clock this afternoon.
Chris and William settled back in the seats and Walsh and in ten minutes, Walsh turned the SUV onto Interstate 80 West heading towards Laramie. The smell of pine and fir filtered through the opened windows and the air was fresh and clean. At 10:00 am, they passed Laramie and continued on Interstate 80 West. In another couple of hours, Walsh told them they were in the Rocky Mountain Range where the highest mountain was Gannett Peak and it was over thirteen thousand feet.
“I see why they called this area “Big Sky Country” it’s awesome,” William said.
“Yes it is,” Walsh relied.
The tall trees in the Medicine Bow National Forest gave way to a hilly sand covered desert, little creatures scurried across the deserted highway anxious to get to where-ever little creatures go. The land was a covered with scrub brush that rapidly absorbed the little moisture that felled in this desolate and isolated place. Walsh sped past a line of eighteen-wheel cattle trucks. Their cargo had their nose poking out of the wooden slacks breathing the hot dusty air. A short distance further they were in the Great Divide Basin.
“You guys hungry?” Walsh asked.
“Yeah, I could eat,” William, answered.
“There is a nice, clean little café right outside of Rock City that specializes in exotic foods,” Walsh said.
“Ok, let’s try it Chris,” said.
Walsh parked the SUV in the parking lot and they entered the Sin City Café and Gas Station. As they entered the café, a young heavy-set Indian woman who smelled as if she had bathed in cheap perfume, greeted them.
“Welcome boys, my name is Sue Ann, my old man and me own the joint,” she said smiling pleasantly and showing a