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Imagine it's spring 1962. It's the middle of the night and you're creeping along a catwalk

deep inside the Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary. Just ahead of you as your friend and fellow

inmate Clarence Anglin. The dang clammy air reeks of mildew and clings to your skin, but you're

used to it. You've been a prisoner here

for nearly two and a half years. Though if all goes according to plan tonight, you'll be a free

man soon. You spy an air shaft just ahead of you, and your heart begins to beat faster. Your

entire escape plan hinders on being able to make it through this shaft and up onto the roof.

Clarence squats down at the shaft, and carefully you climb onto his shoulders.

Its large hands reach back and grab your ankles tightly.

You ready?

I'm ready.

Slowly, Clarence stands up, raising you into the shaft.

You peer to the end and inspect it as carefully as you can.

Well, what do you see? Oh, damn it. You shake your head dejected. Lower me down.

Slowly Clarence lowers himself and you step off his shoulders. It's no good. We're trapped.

What do you mean? What'd you see? Well, this shaft isn't blocked by a fan like the

others, but it is blocked by iron bars. There's some kind of cap at the end, too, like a rain hood or something. Well, we can beat that. We can bend the bars and knock the cap off. Not likely. It's riveted into place. We'll use a drill. Oh, even if we managed to get our hands on a drill and figure out a way to power it up here, it'd make too much noise.

Oh, come on, we've gotten this far. We can't give up now. I don't know. There may not be a way out. We have to think of something. You stare at Clarence, trying to think of some way to get the cap off, but your mind just races and circles. I don't know. We're not going to solve it tonight. Come on, let's get back to ourselves.

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