Citizens for Criminal Justice Reform – New Hampshire

My eight-year old son, John, has the Gift of Gab. He comes by it honestly. Sometime before the great potato famine, one of my wife's ancestors kissed the Blarney Stone.

Sometime in 2001 the Luna^® bar appeared as a dessert item in the chow hall at the New Hampshire State Prison for Men. The wrappers of these protein bars were decorated with silhouettes of women dancing in the moonlight, and emblazoned with the Luna bar motto "The Whole Nutrition Bar for Women." At first, some of the guys wouldn't touch them.

Danny maxed-out his sentence. He wrapped-up ten years at the New Hampshire State Prison for Men. He would have been out in five if he had been considered amenable to programming.

Among the 240 inmates who lived with me in the South Unit of the New Hampshire State Prison for Men, two had the same, somewhat unusual first name of Warren. Both Warrens shared other similarities besides name, though they are most remarkable for their differences. When I first met them, both had been down for about three years. Both had pled out to their crimes, avoiding trial. Both of their victims were their own wives.