If The Walls Could Talk

If the walls could talk, what would they tell us? As I was walking down the east corridor of the cell house last Friday night, I asked myself that question. It was about 2:00 a.m., the building was in complete darkness, except for some distant street lights, and the silence was deafening. The paranormal investigator's were quietly going about their work, snapping photo's and video-taping in "the hole". About midway down the corridor, I stopped and gazed to the top of the cellhouse. Looking at each tier, I could almost see the inmate's inside their cell's, arms hanging out, talking with each other or to themselves. I could hear distant shout's of voice's, perhaps projecting feelings of anger, agony or fear. I glanced over at the catwalk high above me and pictured a correctional officer, walking along ever so confident and whistling to himself. Did they feel no fear at those heights? Did they ever look down and feel that sudden rush of adrenaline when they realized where they were? As questions raced through my mind, I was awestruck with the building surrounding me. I wasn't standing in the middle of a mall or grocery store, I was standing in the middle of history.

As I continued my walk down the east corridor of the 1912 Cellhouse, I glanced over at the walls and realized all the answers lie within. If only the walls could talk, we would get a never-ending history lesson.