Jailhouse Jaunt

Kelly Jasper / senior photographer

A college-age male sleeps in bright blue boxer shorts on a hard cot in a county jail cell.
"He has no pants — he can’t remember where they went," Patrolman J. C. Cannon, the arresting officer, told me.

Hitchhiking in the wrong direction, the pants-less male was picked up near the Food Lion on Port Republic Road around 12:30 a.m. Sunday. His blood alcohol content measured 0.24.

If a BAC reaches unsafe levels, a nurse might send a student to the hospital, explained Lt. R. N. Landes.

Otherwise, students picked up by JMU Police are placed in temporary holding cells at the county jail.

Inside, state troopers and JMU police pace the lobby. It’s 1:30 a.m. before I enter the jail with Landes, a patrolling officer who took me on a ride-along Saturday night. For five hours, I observed a "slow night" with the cops — a first-hand observation as a (sober) student taken to the "drunk tank."

In the lobby, two more college-age students wait to be booked.

"She was wobbling, just gyrating here and there, and almost fell into the street," said Cannon, pointing to a sobbing, brown-haired girl sitting in the lobby. She was brought in on a drunk-in-public charge.

"I just want to call my mom," the girl said. Tears streaked her face as she reached out to a jailer who just issued her a receipt after taking her personal belongings. Her BAC measured 0.12.

A male is booked next. He places his hands above his head against a glass-windowed wall to be patted down. The panel is streaked with fingerprints, marking where others were frisked before him.

I jot down the arrest procedure — booked, patted down, given a receipt and re-handcuffed.

I continue to scrawl observation about the "drunk tank" when a jailer approaches me.

It’s now nearly 1:45 a.m. I’ve been speaking with cops for more than 10 minutes when the female officer says I’m not allowed to be in the jail.

I protest, because a police officer invited me into the station to observe. She says it doesn’t matter, "not unless it was approved by Sheriff Farley."

For some unknown reason, four pages of my notes are confiscated.

I’m whisked away and climb into the patrol car waiting outside. I had glanced at my notes before reluctantly handing them over, trying to commit quotes and observations to memory.

Quickly, my hands shaking, I scribble what I recall.

As Landes and I leave the parking lot, the tall, metal gates guarding the jail open for another patrol car. A handcuffed girl who appears intoxicated is led from the vehicle and sits on the curb.

"She mess up your vehicle?" one officer yells to another. Apparently, alcohol illness is a problem.

Though JMU police deal with an average of five drunk in publics or alcohol illnesses a week, Landes says he fears some student’s don’t think the police are approachable.

"I’m afraid somebody’s gonna die one night ," Landes says.

"If they get an alcohol violation, they get an alcohol violation, but at least they’re alive to go to court."

Editor’s Note: The Breeze plans to file a protest with the Sheriff’s office and will work to recover the confiscated notes.