Canon City Page #2

---

the 1,200 inmates march

into the cell house,

and by 5 p.m.,

while it is still daylight,

are locked away in their

cells for the long night.

All over the prison,

in the other cell houses,

men are filing along

the galleries,

standing before

their cell doors.

On signal, the cell doors

are opened by the bar men.

These are inmate trustees,

and one bar man

handles each tier of cells.

Again, on signal, the bar men

close the cells.

These are the hardest

hours of each prison day,

when a man is left alone

with his thoughts

of what has been,

of what might have been.

As another round

of routine ends,

every man

behind these bars

is dreaming of only

one day--

the day of freedom.

This is Johnson,

a long-termer.

Perhaps the boat model is,

to him,

a symbol of the open sea,

of freedom to roam,

of hope.

His cell neighbor

is Sherbondy,

in for the

killing of an officer.

He was committed

when he was 17.

He's now 29.

(dramatic music)

How is the

new boat coming?

Great.

She'll soon be

ready to launch.

Is that all

you're building?

A boat?

Why?

I know when

something's going on.

Wise guy, huh?

You'll never make it.

I'm not in this alone.

We've got every

angle figured.

We can't miss.

That's what

they all think.

Look at Smalley,

Hathaway, Lavergne.

They tried it more

than once,

and they're still here.

Murray made it.

He was out

five years.

And they found him

and brought him back.

So, we don't make

the same mistakes.

Now, get this.

(footfalls)

(narrator)

Hope springs eternal, they say,

and never more so

than for those in prison.

Take Johnson, for instance--

the boat builder.

For months,

he's been hoping.

For weeks, planning.

And now, he's decided to put

those plans into operation.

It's just a matter

of brains and of guts,

and of a lot of scheming

and a little luck.

Hi, Charlie.

Oh, hello, Willie.

Hi, Harry.

Nice weather

for December.

Yeah, don't you just

love the climate here?

Got any souvenirs?

Yeah.

Faith.

Hope.

This one's

for charity.

They tell me you've

got a load for me.

Yeah.

Take this

control panel

down to the desk

sergeant's office.

I've got orders to

install it this afternoon.

Nice work.

(narrator)

Sure, they can put you behind bars.

Sure, they can

set men to watch you,

men with tear-gas billies

and guns.

Sure, they can shove

you around

and stick a number on you

and make you

walk with your arms folded,

but they can't keep you

from having buddies,

like New, a sharp little guy

who'll try anything

and always

knows the score.

And there are others--

a fighting dozen of them.

Warden Best,

with his big hat

and his dogs

and his tough guards.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes