The Only Two Men I Have Ever Been Afraid of Were...

       I will never forget the first time I met Alexander Washington.    His face is etched in my psyche hiding behind a mixture of unusual, lifetime memories.  Occasionally, when I least expect it,  Alexander will come to the forefront of my mind and scare the hell out of me.  I met him twenty five years ago in a mental institution for the criminally insane.  It was my second week on the ward as an aide and the beginning of his tenth year as a patient.  Neither one of us would leave for the next twenty years.  

     I had been assigned to the 'aggressive management' ward once my training had been completed.  My duties for the day were face checks.  I had to visually see each patient and write down where they were and what they were doing once an hour.  Our ward was a mixture of men and women with a thirty two bed capacity; every bed was filled. There was no room in the inn.

      Each ward had three side rooms because of the aggressive nature of the patients. These rooms were used to help control and calm down the patients after they became a danger to themselves or others on the ward. They were seldom empty.

     It was July and the heat was oppressive. Summer in Georgia is long and humid. It arrives early and stays late.  Due to government cutbacks in mental health, our institution was not air conditioned at that time.  The windows were open in the small and large day rooms trying to entice a breeze our way. The curtains were still, adamantly refusing to budge. The small breeze that tried to enter our ward,  evaded the needs of the patients and staff; rejecting to help cool people who could no longer live in a sane environment.  As long as the ward was quiet we were allowed box fans to help keep the temperatures a few degrees lower. Mostly the fans circulated the smells of sweat, perfume and urine.  Unfortunately, the fans never lasted any length of time. They became missiles aimed at imaginary creatures, staff or each other. When the fight was over the fans would be locked up or thrown away, depending on their condition, until the ward calmed down. 

    As I began my hourly walk down the halls checking rooms and making notations, I literally ran into Alexander Washington. He was walking out of his room as I was entering; colliding into each other was inevitable. His massive 6 foot 4 inches, 280 pound body did not move. However, my 5 foot 7 inches, 120 pound body staggered back three feet.  I laughed, apologized and extended my hand to introduce myself to Alexander, our version of Stone Mountain.

    He shook my hand and repeated, "nice to meet you Miss Eleanor".  His stare never left my face.  A smile played at the corner of his mouth never reaching his eyes. Alexander was an imposing figure of a man.  It wasn't only his height and weight, although those two factors were a force to be reckoned with, it was his eyes. The huge black eyes of a shark on thyroid medicine. They bulged and seldom blinked. Once fastened on a person, his eyes consumed the meal in front of him. He would also talk in a language none of us had ever heard when he became violent.  During those times he had the strength of ten men.

    I had read all the patients charts. I knew what each one had done and what they was capable of doing. One of our instructor's made a statement that lodged in my mind forever.  "Never forget, whatever they did once, they are capable of doing again at any time.  You have chosen to enter their world. At times you will play by their rules."  Alexander was a rapist and a woman killer.  He was also too insane to face the death penalty. There were no medications that worked on him for any length of time. He was a sick lost soul...without a cure in sight.  Our leverage was time and various medications.  Each day he got older; eventually he would become less prone to violence as old age and a lifetime of drugs slowed him down...hopefully.  The flip side to this paradox was Alexander was twenty eight years old. He was a long, long way from old age and slowing down.

   I pulled my hand loose from Alexander's hand and told him I hoped he had a good afternoon.  He didn't move for a few more seconds. Then he asked softly, "I will see you again?" As I resumed my rounds I said, "Every day." He laughed a loud belly laugh that caused the ward charge to glance up and see what was going on. It also caused a chill to run down my spine. We walked off in different directions. I heard him say to no one in particular, "I'm not going anywhere either." 

   Over the course of the next twenty years we had to 'control' Alexander many times.  We seldom had enough staff on the ward when he exploded. One time we had to call for "all available men in the building". He was beyond rage that day. He sent many staff and patients to the hospital that day and multiple other days.  He hit me once and I thought he had broken my jaw. He didn't but it wasn't because he didn't try. 

   When I retired, years later, air conditioning had been added to the aged buildings. That was a life saver for everyone.  New programs had been started, new drugs discovered and million new rules had and come and gone. However, Alexander remained.  I no longer live in Georgia so I have lost track with most of the people I worked with.  I moved to the coast. The ocean is therapeutic for me. I sit and stare at the waves, horizons, sunset and sun rises and I work on my novel about mental health. It is entitled, "The Things I did for Money".

    Oh and as for the second man I was afraid of ...well that is a different book entirely but just as true.  To be continued...