I wasn't surprised to read this article the other day.
When guards at the Cook County Correctional Facility found 57-year-old inmate Thomas Diskin dead, slumped around his cell’s toilet in January 2023, investigators were left scratching their heads: There was no evidence of foul play or a fall that could’ve killed the prisoner.
The only thing out of the norm? Tiny strips of singed paper littered around his cell.
“I said, ‘We need to test this and find out what’s going on with it,’” Cook County Sheriff’s Office chief of staff Brad Curry recalled about that moment, referring to the paper shreds.
Eventually, a Pennsylvania lab would confirm that the strips were soaked in a synthetic cannabinoid called Pinaca, which proved lethal when Diskin smoked the paper.
Before authorities could stop it, other inmates were dropping dead under eerily similar circumstances.
. . .
Guards ... began inspecting every single piece of mail that came into the lockup, looking for stains and discoloration that could indicate synthetic drugs on it, and ramped up random cell searches and surveillance.
But the strips of drug-soaked paper were sometimes so tiny, guards wouldn’t find them — and not even drug-trained police K-9s were able to sniff out the new synthetic cannabinoid they contained, Curry explained.
. . .
When the mailroom got too hot with scrutiny, smugglers began dousing legal documents in drugs to make it look like they came straight from the courthouse.
They even put it on pages of thick books that came to the prison packaged as if they’d been sent straight from Amazon or a local bookstore.
Just one 8×11 piece of paper full of the drugs could run up to $10,000 — a price tag apparently high enough to turn the heads of several money-hungry staffers — who ended up in cuffs for smuggling it to inmates, according to Curry.
There's more at the link.
Drug dealers have a huge financial incentive to get drugs into prisons, because security precautions make it much harder to get them to their customers. Prices are thus often five to ten times more than "on the street", and sometimes - such as during a prolonged security lockdown - a lot more than that.
When I worked as a prison chaplain, one of our biggest headaches was the misuse of religious services materials by inmates and dealers trying to smuggle drugs inside through the chapel. Bibles with certain pages soaked in drug solutions, then dried out; "incense" that was nothing but (often very highly concentrated) drug powder; bottles of liquid drug concentrate concealed inside statues or within niches carved out of crosses before they were assembled; the list was endless, and was always expanding. Many of us said that if the inmates we supervised would put one-tenth as much effort into hard, honest work as they did into illegal activities, they'd all be millionaires. We had to institute a policy that religious goods could only be sent direct from the supplier (whom we had to approve beforehand) to the prison, without going through any other person, even the inmate's family. That was the only way we could keep the problem within manageable proportions.
Even that wasn't foolproof, because some suppliers are not what they appear to be at first glance. One of my favorite examples was the group of Rastafarian inmates who persuaded a relatively new prison staffer that they wanted to order some "holy oil of anointing" for their religious ceremonies. She authorized the purchase, and a few days later happened to innocently mention it to a senior corrections officer. He beetled his brows at her and issued special instructions to the Receiving Department. When the "holy oil" arrived, it was sequestered until it could be tested. Needless to say, it was high-test cannabis oil - doubtless of deep religious significance to Rastafarians, but not exactly in line with prison security regulations. Police at the place of origin were tipped off, and they proceeded to take a deep and abiding interest in the supplier (to his subsequent profound unhappiness).
So, this most recent episode, as reported above, doesn't surprise me at all. "Criminals gonna criminal", as I've heard more than one corrections officer put it; and behind bars, they have all the time in the world to figure out new ways to "stick it to the man" and get around, over, under or through security precautions and procedures. If they succeed, for a time their reputation in the prison will soar. If they fail, the other inmates will have a good laugh at their expense - then everyone will try even harder to get away with it next time.
Prison work is anything but boring. (Those who've read my memoir of prison ministry will recall Sam the Sex God, who had no need of illicit drugs to earn an automatic entry into the "anything but boring" category!)
Peter
