Dear Garrett..

The cool air that frequented the Monterey Bay area enabled me to lift off the short Santa Cruz Skypark Airport runway comfortably enough before I reached its end. On warmer days or transports with more than one prisoner on board there was less runway to spare. It didn’t take long to learn that every takeoff at the Skypark was a tight one leaving little room for error.

Keeping the nose of the aircraft low after lift off, I eventually gained enough airspeed and lift to climb above the Santa Cruz mountains. Clearing the mountain tops, I could see the outline of Mount Diablo beginning to appear on the distant horizon. My aeronautical charts told me, if I kept the nose of my aircraft slightly to the left of Mount Diablo, I would head straight to the Nut Tree Airport. The Nut Tree Airport was located a few miles from the Vacaville Prison where I was heading to deliver my first prisoner since becoming appointed a Prisoner Transportation Deputy for Santa Cruz County.

Since I was on my first trip to the California Vacaville Prison, I didn’t really know what to expect when I would arrive at the prison with a prisoner. There was no training provided to me for my new job as a Prisoner Transportation Deputy. The only requirement was that I hold a FAA Commercial Pilot Certificate and become appointed as a Prisoner Transportation Deputy by the Santa Cruz County Sheriff’s Department. Everything else the job would involve, I would learn on the fly so to speak. I would learn how to do the job by simply doing the job. I was told what to do then I did it.

Passing to the left of Mount Diablo, I watched the Golden Gate Bridge pass under my left wing. After the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz also passed off to my left. I had already flown over The Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz multiple times on other flights to show passengers those popular landmarks. 

Continuing along my planned flight route, I spotted Hamilton Air Force Base further off to my left. My last check points before reaching Vacaville were the south end of the Napa Valley and then Travis Air Force Base. On subsequent trips to the Vacaville Prison, I would frequently see massive B-52’s conducting takeoff and landing practice on the extra long Travis AFB runway. 

After passing to the west of Travis AFB enough to avoid its Airport Traffic Area, the Vacaville Prison appeared in the distance. I could see the prison before spotting the Nut Tree Airport runway. The prison was easy to spot with all the buildings, guard towers and wire. When I did locate the Nut Tree Airport, I headed for the runway and flew directly over the airport to check out the wind direction and traffic pattern indicators. I made a good landing and taxied to the small ramp area, parked and shut down the aircraft engine.

The Nut Tree Airport was much different than I was expecting. It felt more like an amusement park environment than an airport facility. A miniature train picked up passengers arriving at the airport to carry them to the Nut Tree restaurant and shopping area co-located with the airport. Transportation Deputies escorting prisoners were excluded from riding privileges on the train. 

I called for a taxi to pick up the prisoner and myself and drive us to the prison. The Vacaville Prison looked large to me. It was the first prison I’d ever seen close up. It was heavily fortified with rows of tall fencing topped with concertina razor wire. There were high guard towers at intervals occupied by armed guards. The energy at the prison felt eery and solemn.

A prison guard met me as we entered the prison. The prisoner had no idea how I felt passing through the prison doors. He had no way of knowing it was my first time to ever enter a prison. As far as he could tell, I knew what I was doing. I handed the paperwork that I carried with me showing the orders to deliver the prisoner to the prison. The paperwork also contained a body receipt which had to be signed by a prison official upon satisfactory delivery and acceptance of the prisoner.

After reviewing the paperwork, the guard stamped the top of my left hand with an invisible identifying substance of some kind. I later learned the invisible seal would be my authorization to exit the prison after successfully releasing the prisoner to the prison authorities. The prison guard then directed us through a series of massive locked gated doors leading us further into the interior of the prison.

Following another guard, we began walking down long corridors enclosed by windowless walls on both sides. We passed through heavy iron bar gates along our way to the inmate processing area. The gates opened and closed with the sound of the heavy metal doors rolling across concrete floors. I could hear and feel foreboding sounds of loud slamming and clicking metal as the gates closed and locked behind us after we passed through them. As I looked back to see the gates after hearing them complete their closing sequencing, I became aware that I was stepping further into a place completely foreign to me. The thought crossed my mind, “I hope whatever they stamped on my hand when I walked into the prison would remain on my hand so I could get out of the prison when it came time to leave.” I looked at the back of my hand and still couldn’t see anything.

We eventually reached the inmate reception area. It was a large area with a 12 by 12 foot cage in the center made of heavy iron bars. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when we reached the reception area. There were more than a dozen men standing around, some attending to chores and others just watching us as we entered the reception area. Some of the men were guards and some were prisoners which I assumed to have trustee privileges.

We walked up to a desk outside the caged area. The guard escorting us handed the prisoner’s paperwork to another guard sitting at the desk. After talking a bit, another guard, carrying a flashlight in his hand, approached the prisoner directing him to enter the caged area. Once inside, he removed my handcuffs and waist chain from the prisoner and handed them out to me.

The guard positioned the prisoner into the center of the caged area. The prisoner was then instructed to face the guard and remove all of his clothing. When the prisoner was totally naked, his clothing was removed from the caged cell. The guard then issued a series of instructions which the prisoner obeyed as directed.

“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out. Raise your tongue up – move it left – move it right.” Following the prisoners compliance with each command, the guard shined the flashlight into the prisoner’s mouth. Then the guard said, “Turn your head left – turn your head right.” The guard inspected each ear opening and behind the ears. “Hold your hands out and spread your fingers.” After inspecting the hands, the guard instructed the prisoner, “Spread your legs and lift your scrotum – now drop your scrotum and hold your penis up – now drop your penis.” The prisoner continued to promptly obeyed all of the guard’s commands.

I could never have imagined what I was currently witnessing as I stood a few feet away from the cage as I was waiting to be handed a signed body receipt. Everyone in the reception area was watching along with me what I would learn was termed a “Body and Cavity Search.” I assumed the prisoner must have felt an indescribable sense of humiliation enduring the all revealing body search procedure by the prison guard and an audience of onlookers.

The inspection continued. “Turn around. Lift your left foot. Lift your right foot.” After inspecting the underside of each foot, the guard instructed the prisoner, “Bend over.” Once bent over the guard instructed, “Spread your cheeks.” When the prisoner spread his butt cheeks apart with his hands, the guard stepped in close with the flashlight and looked inside the prisoner’s rectum opening.

After inspecting every body area and cavity of the prisoner, the guard handed the prisoner a set of inmate clothing and told him to get dressed. While the prisoner was dressing himself in his new prison clothes, a guard signed the body receipt and handed it to me. I thought to myself, “Wow, so that’s how you get a body receipt when you drop off a prisoner here.”

With receipt in hand, I followed a guard to the exit point of the prison. When we reached the exit desk, I was instructed to place my left hand underneath an ultraviolet light. Fortunately the invisible stamp placed on the back of my hand when I entered the prison was no longer invisible. When the image of the stamp appeared on my hand, the desk guard told me I was free to go. I breathed a sigh of relief when the stamped image appeared and I was released to depart. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction that I was approved to leave the prison when others couldn’t.

I returned to the Nut Tree Airport following my first successful Vacaville Prisoner delivery, preflighted my aircraft and departed the runway for my flight back to Watsonville. I had seen some new life experiences during my prisoner delivery today. The images seen in the prisoner inspection cage today gave me some extra things to think about during my flight home. Due to their intense nature, I still think about them, decades later.

I don’t know how much innocence I relinquished during my first prisoner transport to the Vacaville Prison. I’m sure it was some. I would fly many prisoners over the next year to Vacaville and other prisons around the State of California and see repeatedly what I witnessed today at Vacaville.