Continue on Mississippi 468 East for one mile.

Okay, here it is.

Coming upon it.

I have a line of cars going into Central Mississippi Correctional Facility.

Wow, all the employees, I guess.

It's 8 o'clock in the morning, near the end of April, and I'm about to get a clash course in incarceration.

A guard at the prison's front gate checks my ID and searches my rental car.

Okay, where do I go?

Call it a correctional facility all you like.

It's prison, and prison is barren, cold, weak, abundant with nothing but stainless steel.

Today, about a dozen men arrive by bus for their first of many days in prison.

They're confined in the reception and classification room.

The door is secure, but windows give a clear view inside.

The men have already been strip searched, clothing and personal property confiscated.

They each wear a yellow jumpsuit.

Next up, a checklist of to-dos, finger printing, photographs, a medical exam, and a psychological one.

The inmates receive a few hygiene items, pretty much just soap and a towel.

Finally, each is locked in a cell.

A violent offender would be placed in the restrictive housing unit.

Keith Brown is chief of security here at the Central Mississippi Correctional Facility.

When he says restrictive housing, he means lockdown.

All movements under strict supervision, watched, regulated.

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