The following is the last of the inmate portraits from my prison memoir, A Muddled Brotherhood. Some of the men I knew well. Others I encountered only briefly but, for reasons I still don’t entirely understand, continue to think about.
THE CURATOR
Carter was an art dealer from Texas and made a fortune in the process. But like many dealers trying to navigate the international tax system, he failed to reconcile with the IRS and was sentenced to fifteen years.
He was in year twelve when I arrived.
A gentleman in appearance, with a quiet, unassuming demeanor, Carter kept a low profile. He still worked as an orderly, mopping the halls between the dorm and the kitchen. A diligent worker, he made his rounds quietly in the early mornings, sometimes even before the kitchen opened for breakfast, always remaining under the radar and keeping pretty much to himself.
We didn’t connect until I had been there for a year. Our friendship was a kind of accident. We were both called down to the guard station during Covid. Waiting for a guard to engage us, standing outside their cubicle, as was often the case, we began talking. For twenty minutes, he told me his story.
Like most inmates, I sensed he edited his biography a bit, but he communicated something authentic, and I believed him.
But I believed almost everyone in prison.
It didn’t make a difference. Only how you behaved and treated one another mattered. Carter was always polite, holding the door open when entering or leaving the bathrooms—the usual custom.
I hardly knew him, even after months in prison. Strangely, despite our few encounters, I think about him often.
Up Next on White Collar Journal:
Wednesday (Justice Notes): Criminal Justice Reform
Thursday (Notes from Exisle): Log/Verse: Daily, fragmented reflections
Sunday (Prison Camp): More Stories from prison
If you’re new to White-Collar Journal, you can read earlier chapters and essays on incarceration, justice, and reentry at whitecollarjournal.com.
Thank you for reading White-Collar Journal. Subscribing is free, and I hope you’ll continue with me as I explore stories of incarceration, justice, and redemption.
If this piece resonated with you, consider sharing it or leaving a comment. To support this work and help spread awareness about justice reform for white-collar defendants, subscribe to White-Collar Journal and stay connected. John DiMenna is a member of the White Collar Support Group.
To leave a comment, Substack may ask you to verify your email address (a one-time step to prevent spam). You don’t need to subscribe or create an account. Just check your inbox for a one-time link.