There are an estimated 1.9 million people currently incarcerated in jails, prisons or involuntary commitments to mental hospitals. And over half a million people are located in local jails. While that might seem like a small number in comparison with the entire population of the country, it is still a higher number per capita.
Despite what has been shown in popular movies like The Shawshank Redemption and Stir Crazy, there’s actually a more pleasant daily interaction between inmates and jailers/guards. There has to be. Like a school setting, there’s the realization that those in authority won’t always abuse it because they need to maintain order. This avoids prison riots and especially civil lawsuits.
The relationship between an inmate and a jailer/guard is an odd one. We’ve all seen CCTV footage of inmates stepping up to help subdue one rowdy inmate who thinks they are the “baddest dude” in the cell block and tries to take down a jailer/guard. Because of our somewhat racist and biased system, a lot of people are in jail for non-violent offense such as drug convictions or even foolishness like failure to pay fines (even though housing them in a facility is going to make that up.)
Jailbird: Love on the Run is the stranger than fiction true story of how a veteran jail guard of high authority got too comfortable with an inmate who was a very violent person. While the Netflix documentary presents some very nice footage of CCTV as well as interviews with the locals and especially the racy phone calls between Vicky White and inmate Casey White, it never answers the one true questions most of us wonder. And that is, why did Vicky do it?
Not to give any spoilers away but this case is about two years old and most of the people talk of Vicky in the past tense, as well as Netflix having a warning of suicide, so Vicky is dead and gone. And because she isn’t able to explain why she fell hard in love with a vicious man like Casey leaves us along with the rest of the people who knew her to speculate.
It’s been reported that Casey made a comment about how Vicky had a nice ass. And while that might have made her mad if it was said by another inmate, she was actually intrigued by it. The question still lingers if and how we should talk about a woman’s appearance. I remember back in 1997 when watching a video sexual harassment at Wal-Mart before I started working, a man was complimenting a woman who lost weight by saying, she “looks good.” The conclusion was it all depends on the tone and context as he wasn’t saying it in a sexual or vulgar way.
Sadly, Vicky had been one of those unfortunate people who previous loves had ended badly. Her first true love got involved in drugs and led to a break-up. Her “rebound” love died in an accident. So, after a while you begin to wonder if it’s not in the cards for you.
Vicky had worked her way up to a guard supervisor at the Lauderdale County Detention Center in the northwestern corner of Alabama on the border of Mississippi and Tennessee. Many of the people interviewed that she worked with seem the types of characters you would find like they’re out of central casting of southern folk. However, one of them is Joyce Brawley, who was a guard too, yet she looks more like she should be a middle school teacher.
Yet it seems others walked out of a William Faulkner book. It’s possible that the Covid-19 pandemic was a key factor as the relationship between Vicky and Casey started in 2020. For the first time in a long time, people found themselves with nothing much to do in their spare time. Places were closed down. People were encouraged not to get in big groups. That means there’s not many parties or barbecue get-together.
And if you don’t already have a special someone in your life, you will turn to those they see on a regular basis. This is nothing more than an office affair. However, in this case, it was very much against the rules because one was in jail on a felony murder charge as well as other crimes. Those who were friends with Vicky say they noticed a change in her stoic ways.
The documentary leaves a lot of unanswered questions, mostly because Vicky isn’t around to answer them and Casey doesn’t. Why did she end her job and go on the run with a dangerous man? And why did they travel less than 300 miles away to Evansville, Ind.? It could be a basic answer – criminals aren’t too intelligent. They’re also lazy. If you’re on the run, you stay on the run. And you don’t leave many breadcrumbs for people to find you.
I remember a sheriff told me that some people tried to pull the metal gate off a building with a chain tied to their truck bumper that fell half off. And rather than pull off on the side of the road in a location nowhere near their home to fix the bumper, they just drove all the way back to their house. The metal bumper scraping on the asphalt left a literal trail back that law officers followed.
Also, whether or not Vicky intended to shoot herself as she and Casey fled from the police is a question that those who know her don’t want to admit. It’s possible in everything that the gun discharged. But it’s a sad story of how some people can manipulate others, especially those that are vulnerable.
What do you think? Please comment.
Zane Says 