A few years back, I had the worst streak of bad luck in my entire life.

My dad, my one living parent, got run over at a pedestrian crossing.

My fiancé left me, I lost my job at the warehouse, and I had to move to the outskirts

of town because of a sudden rent spike.

My one stroke of good luck was my friend, Gareth.

He mainly worked the commissionary at a nearby prison and told me they were looking for more

people.

Mainly, night crew, but the pay was solid.

There was a trial period and two weeks of on-the-job learning, but it was all paid for.

In my position.

How could I say no?

So, I started my job as a corrections officer just outside of Tomscock, Minnesota.

The place was partly owned by a private company, but it was basically the same logo you'd

see all over town.

Hatchet Farmer has a finger in everything around here.

I got the uniform, I met the inmates, I went through the routine, and I got to know who

to keep my eyes on.

I had to fire my taser after three weeks on the job, but that was pretty much the highlight.

Most of the time, is just sitting around waiting for something to happen, or breaking

up loud conversations.

It's not as dramatic as it sounds, but you gotta be ready for when it counts.

In December of 2021, I was assigned to a new route.

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