This letter was written by a person incarcerated at Pleasant Valley.
Hours later, another guard came to our cell and moved us. This cell was ice cold, but the toilet and sink worked. Although water came in through the front door, we stuffed a rag under the door and lived with it.
My quarterly package was delivered to my cell. I had boxes of caramel cookies, and when I went to shower I went around to all the prisoners on quarantine and gave each a few packs. We were all sick, all miserable, so I thought to spread a bit of cheer.
He returned from the outside hospital where he was treated with Remdesivir. The guy in my room died, he told me. The body was still there when they brought my tray. Man!
With a few days to go, the guards started asking us to sign a chrono waiving our rights to be removed from quarantine and remain in the housing unit.
