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freonsuit52-blog · 5 years

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Review: JetBlue Mint, one of the most luxurious ways to travel domestically

If you’re flying internationally and are looking for a premium business class product with all the familiar trappings — a lie-flat seat, full meals, complimentary drinks, and a huge in-flight-entertainment screen with plenty of high-quality viewing options — you don’t have to look too far. But if you’re traveling domestically, your options are far more limited. JetBlue’s Mint offers all of the above and is widely regarded as being up there with the best premium-class domestic offerings (Delta One is also pretty great), and we recently had the opportunity to put it to the test on a flight between New York and San Francisco.

JetBlue planes have a Mint cabin on a variety of long-haul domestic flights, in cities including Boston, New York, Fort Lauderdale, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, and Las Vegas. On my flight, as on most Mint flights, there were five Mint rows in the front of the plane, alternating between a 2-2 and a 1-1 layout. (The four single seats have their own sliding doors, making them essentially private minisuites.)

There’s no dedicated JetBlue lounge at JFK (though there’s an AerLingus lounge in the same terminal, so it would be great if Mint passengers were allowed access), but priority boarding allowed us onto the plane first. I was unfortunately not seated in one of the single-seat “thrones,” but there was a small privacy divider between me and my seatmate.

Waiting at my seat were a blanket, pillow, and amenity kit as well as a welcome note from the two flight attendants, a nice personal touch. As I was getting situated, one of the flight attendants came by to introduce herself and acclimate me to the seat; she also offered a refreshing welcome drink of mint, lime, and club soda, with or without vodka.

The amenity kit contained all the essentials: moisturizers, socks, an eye mask, earplugs, toothbrush and toothpaste, and a pen.

For someone who’s used to being crammed into an economy seat, the Mint offering was incredibly spacious, 22 inches wide and converting into a 6-foot-8-inch lie-flat bed. Power outlets, a nook holding a bottle of water, and a reading light were to my left, a remote for the TV and seat controls were in the left-side armrest, a large table swung down from between the seats (which were also separated by a small cocktail table), and a mesh pouch beneath the screen provided enough space for the essentials.

The in-flight entertainment monitor was also absolutely massive, 15 inches across and operated by touch as well as a remote. I love that JetBlue offers live TV through DirecTV, and the selection of about 60 movies was also well-curated.

But onto the food. The menu here is created by the well-regarded New York restaurant Saxon + Parole, and it’s clear that a lot of thought went into it.

A welcome snack of onion dip and taro chips were served after takeoff — nothing special, but a nice way to start the meal.

Next, we had our choice of three of five entrees, served as small plates: a butter lettuce salad with orange segments, creme fraiche dressing, and pistachios; roasted butternut squash salad with arugula, pomegranate, pumpkin seeds, and cotija; shrimp and grits with tomato ragout, mascarpone, cheddar, and pickled peppers; roast chicken breast with parsnip puree, Brussels sprouts, pickled blackberries, and chicken jus; and five spice-braised short rib with Parmesan polenta.

I opted for the butternut squash salad, the shrimp and grits, and the chicken, and — no exaggeration — it was the best meal I’ve ever eaten on an airplane. Just the fact that I was served three individual dishes was very appreciated, but I would have been very satisfied if I’d received any of these as standalones (either on a plane or at a nice restaurant). The roll was warm and soft, served with a bright, high-quality olive oil. The salad was fresh and bright, with a little crunch from the pumpkin seeds and pomegranate and plenty of chunks of nicely roasted squash. The chicken was tender and not dried out at all, the parsnip puree was creamy and flavorful, the blackberries gave it a bright pop, and the rich jus tied it all together. The shrimp were large and perfectly cooked, the grits were nice and creamy, and the tomato ragout and pickled peppers helped kick the flavor up a few notches.

For dessert, we were served a fruit plate with lots of fresh blackberries, orange slices, strawberries, and fresh mint, as well as scoops of caramel and vanilla ice cream from Brooklyn’s acclaimed Blue Marble. It was a stellar cap to an essentially perfect in-flight meal.

It’s notoriously difficult to nail down in-flight dining because the dryness of the cabin dulls our palates, but each dish was perfectly seasoned and full of big, bold, and vibrant flavors in some unexpected places. (Seriously, who would think to pair chicken breast with pickled blackberries?) The wine selection, chosen by wine writer Jon Bonné, was also on point, with a dry sparkling Raventos rose from Spain, a bright chardonnay from Leo Steen in Santa Cruz, a floral gruner veltliner from Santa Barbara County’s Tatomer Meerseboden, a bold young zinfandel from California’s Turley, and berry-forward, easy-drinking Sonoma Coast pinot noir from Failla on offer.

Snacks, fruit, cappuccino and espresso from Brooklyn Roasting Co., coffee and tea from Dunkin’ Donuts, and drinks including Angry Orchard cider, Brooklyn Lager, Lagunitas Pale Ale, Sam Adams IPA, Bacardi rum, Bombay Sapphire gin, Bulleit bourbon, and Grey Goose vodka were also available on demand. Flight attendants were always nearby, were always very friendly, and always remembered my drink order.

After the meal (and a jaunt down the aisle to help with digestion), I decided to settle in for a nap and lowered the seat down to lie-flat mode. There’s something insanely novel and luxurious about being able to lie completely flat, with a comfortable pillow under your head and a warm blanket covering you, 35,000 feet in the air, and it’s something that everyone should experience at least once. (A word of warning, though: It’ll completely spoil you for ever sitting in economy again.) Cocooned into my little space, I dozed off and got a couple hours of blissfully uninterrupted sleep before repositioning the seat into my best approximation of a La-Z-Boy recliner, ordering a bourbon, and watching a movie in the deep blue mood lighting. A cookie from Christina Tosi's Milk Bar was served as we begun our descent, another nice touch.

When we landed shortly after the movie finished, and I got up from my seat and emerged blinking into the bright and hectic terminal, my thoughts weren’t of the days of sightseeing ahead of me, but on the insanely luxurious and comfortable flight I’d just had. From the friendliness of the flight attendants to the size and softness of the seat to the absolutely delicious meal, flying JetBlue Mint was one of the finest flight experiences I’ve ever had, and I’m certifiably spoiled for all other economy flights I’ll ever take.

An upgrade from economy to Mint was provided at no cost to the author.

Source: https://www.thedailymeal.com/travel/review-jetblue-mint

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clubsocial-india · 4 years

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New on Sports Illustrated: The Background That Shapes Dave Aranda, Baylor's New Head Coach

Quiet and cerebral, the Bears' hire has a defensive mind and a Mexican heritage few know about.

Dave Aranda misses the tamales. While others feast on the usual American holiday treats—turkey and gravy, mashed potatoes and green been casserole—Aranda and his family ate tamales. And a lot of them. “It’s weird having Christmas without tamales,” he says in an interview last month with Sports Illustrated. “I would be crushing tamales throughout the lead up to Christmas.”

Baylor’s new head football coach is unique in many ways. Aranda was one of the most unusual longtime defensive coordinators in college football—quiet and cerebral, not a yeller or screamer. He never even played college football, and he originally wanted to enlist in the Navy. But nothing separates Aranda from others in the high-profile coaching fraternity more than his heritage—he’s Mexican American.

Decades after being raised as a Spanish-speaking child in southern California, Aranda landed his first head coaching job at a place with a sprawling Hispanic and Latino community deep in the heart of Texas. The nation’s highest paid assistant is now leading the Big 12 runner-up Bears, replacing Matt Rhule and ending a four-year stretch as LSU’s defensive coordinator. Three days after helping lead the Tigers to a national championship victory over Clemson in New Orleans, Aranda emerged as a top candidate at Baylor, a move SI first reported on Thursday. It came only after the school flirted with Virginia Tech coach Justin Fuente and interviewed Cajuns coach Billy Napier.

So what are the Bears getting in Aranda? Many in the industry call him one of the game’s best defensive minds, a 43-year old who captained some of the most successful defensive units in football at LSU and before that for three years at Wisconsin. Because of his cerebral nature, Aranda developed a host of nicknames over the years, most notably The Professor and The Defensive Coordinator Whisper. He’s a football nerd who will often talk about the “math of football” while babbling in technical jargon. Aranda’s scheme is built around “dictating” the terms of the game, a more offensive and attacking approach to defense.

Aside from football, Aranda is a married father of three with a background that few know about: He’s a minority, a man who embraced his Mexican roots in an interview last month with SI. Aranda says both of his parents’ families originated from the Guadalajara area, a six-hour drive west of Mexico City. He grew up speaking a mixture of English and Spanish. Can he speak Spanish today? “Yeah. Cuss words,” he laughs. “That’s all I remember.” Aranda is the 12th minority head football coach among the 65 Power 5 teams, it is believed. He’ll reside in Waco, a place in which about one-third of the population is either Hispanic or Latino. It’s similar to back in his home of Redlands, Calif., a quiet community at the foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains about 60 miles east of Los Angeles.

Paul and Marguerite Aranda raised two sons, Dave and Mike, and both got into coaching. Mike is an assistant basketball coach in Redlands. The boys didn’t grow up in an affluent home. Marguerite worked in the social security office, and Paul was a member of a prison parole board. Dave remembers spending hours after school at the YMCA while his parents worked. “We didn’t have a lot of money,” he says. “I just remember all the different people that are hanging out at the YMCA during the day. There would be so many different groups of people: the head bangers, the people who would study, the jocks, there would be the Mexican guys who didn’t speak English. I knew all of those people and could talk to them. I was really quiet always but could talk to them all. I cherished that experience.”

Mike and Dave were both active in sports growing up, but Dave never got to live his dream as a college football player. A Wing-T guard and linebacker, Dave injured his shoulder as a sophomore, something that lingered for years. He has undergone six—six—operations to the right shoulder, he said, and it prevented him from not only playing in college but competing at linebacker in high school. He was moved to the O-line. Dave was tough, even playing an entire half of football after re-injuring the shoulder in a playoff game. Afterwards, doctors X-rayed the arm—he had broken his shoulder. “He was a tough kid. He never came out,” says Miguel Olmeda, Aranda’s coach at Redlands High who he’s still close with. “He’s nails. If he would have played linebacker, he would have gotten recruited.”

Dave often pokes fun at himself over one aspect of his high school days: He was a terrible student. He was too focused on football and film sessions, Olmeda says, rather than Algebra and Geometry. Aranda kept reams of notebooks from the high school film sessions, and Olmeda believes he still has them in his possession. “To this day, he has a spiral notebook at this time full of Xs and Os,” Olmeda says. “He wanted to be a college coach in the worst way.”

At the start, Aranda learned the game on his own, often using the library in California as a tool, pouring over books and jotting down notes. While a student at Cal Lutheran, he studied Philosophy while rooming with Tom Herman, the current Texas coach. Aranda served on the football staff, moving up from the videographer to a student position coach and then a graduate assistant. He spent much of the offseason during those years traveling to various college campuses learning and digesting football. He drove to Arizona State, UCLA and to San Diego to visit the Chargers. He visited Southern Cal, too, meeting with a Trojans’ defensive graduate assistant, a guy named Dave Doeren, and he met with USC’s defensive line coach. His name: Ed Orgeron.

A sponge for knowledge and an architect of defense, Aranda developed a reputation as a guru, but he didn’t make it onto a big stage until Gary Andersen hired him as defensive coordinator at Utah State in 2009. It was a risky move—Aranda and the entire Hawaii staff had just been fired. “It’s hard to be fired in Hawaii,” Aranda said in an interview in 2016. “It’s probably the hardest place to get fired, the time change and all. I think people kind of forget you’re up there. I’ve never been one to work the phones or call. You’re basically kind of sitting around with no one calling.”

Since then, his defense has taken many shapes. While based out of a 3-4, his units are multiple and ever changing, with a host of different packages, and at times, he uses an amoeba formation. “He definitely has a little more of an attacking style of defense, man to man with the corners in some fashion,” LSU safeties coach Bill Busch said in a previous interview. “He likes to figure out ways to change things up. He’s extremely multiple. He has a few different packages.” Years ago, Karl Scott, now an assistant at Alabama, called Aranda the “smartest coach I’ve been around.” The two worked together for a year at Delta State in 2007. In coaching circles, Aranda is most known for using what he calls “creepers,” a simulated blitzer and something he developed over the years with former boss Ron Roberts, now the defensive coordinator at Louisiana. Former longtime coach and current Big Ten Network analyst Gerry DiNardo says Aranda calls plays like an offensive coordinator, always attacking.

His personality is the opposite, a somewhat soft-spoken man with a calming, gentle presence—far removed from the red-faced, high-pitched ol’ ball coach usually found in the defensive coordinator position. Aranda is such a quiet guy that teammates on his high school team in Redlands referred to him as The Fencepost, says Olmeda. “As quiet as you think he is now, he was almost mute in high school,” Olmeda laughs during an interview last month. “He was a kid of few words.” One former colleague said of Aranda, “He’s like a ninja.”

Aranda describes his childhood as “a little bit like it’s another life.” His parents didn’t raise him on football by any means. They knew very little about the sport until now, Aranda says. In fact, during football camps as a child, Aranda was the oddball kid, the one wearing the jeans and dress shoes. “I didn’t fit. But I didn’t know,” he says. “I always think of that when we have camps. We’ll have camps and I’ll see someone that would be me. I always spend time with them. It reminds me of my own experience.”

And now here he is, a Power 5 head coach, a minority with one of football’s biggest jobs. He’s prepared for this for years. “Bottom line,” he says in an interview last month, “is always be yourself.”

January 17, 2020 at 06:18AM The Background That Shapes Dave Aranda, Baylor's New Head Coach from Blogger https://ift.tt/35ZIX7a

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stopsubstanceabuse1-blog · 5 years

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Marijuana Laws in Nevada

New Post has been published on https://www.substanceabuseprevention.net/marijuana-laws-in-nevada/

Marijuana Laws in Nevada

ARTICLE OVERVIEW:Nevada is one of the ten states in America where marijuana is legalized, both medically and recreationally. Yet, with legalization comes a set of laws and regulations many aren’t aware of. This article outlines these laws and the penalties the state levies if you break them.TABLE OF CONTENTS:Is Marijuana Legal?Marijuana Laws in NevadaPenaltiesMarijuana DUIViews on MarijuanaIs Marijuana Addictive?Marijuana TreatmentYour QuestionsIs Marijuana Legal in Nevada?Yes. Marijuana is legal for recreational and medical use in Nevada.Marijuana became medically legal in 1998 under the Nevada Medical Marijuana Act to anyone over 18 with a proper medical card issued through a doctor. Marijuana became legal for recreational use in 2014 to anyone over the age of 21 via the Initiative to Regulate and Tax Marijuana.However, legality doesn’t mean complete freedom on the use, possession, sale, or trafficking of weed. Just like alcohol, there are regulations surrounding the newly legalized drug in order to make sure people are safe and responsible with their consumption.It should be noted, just because cannabis is legal doesn’t mean it’s safe. Just as with alcohol, there are side effects to marijuana that people tend to overlook.Furthermore, laws aren’t completely set in stone yet. Since the state of Nevada is responsible for all regulations surrounding cannabis – and not the federal government – there are changes being made to the rules consistently. For example, in California, it recently became a law for people with prior marijuana convictions are eligible to have charges expunged from their records. Though a law as such hasn’t been set forth in Nevada, it’s very possible we’ll witness some changes in the near future.The importance of mentioning this is to be informed that lawmakers are still trying to figure out how to make legal cannabis work.Marijuana Laws in NevadaAccording to Nevada’s state website, anyone over the age of 21 is allowed to:Possess up to 1 ounce of marijuana.Possess up to ⅛ of an ounce (3.5 grams) of concentrates.Possess up to 6 marijuana plants per person (no more than 12 in a household).However, there are regulations surrounding these allowances. In terms of possession and consumption:It’s illegal to consume marijuana in public.It’s illegal to consume marijuana in a vehicle, even if you are a passenger.It’s illegal to use marijuana under the age of 21.It’s illegal to pose as someone else as a means of obtaining marijuana.It’s illegal to give marijuana to a minor (charges will be higher if the minor is under 18).It’s illegal to operate a motor vehicle while under the influence of marijuana.It’s illegal to purchase marijuana from anywhere other than a state-licensed store.In terms of growing plants, the following regulations are set in place:You must grow plants within an enclosed area such as a closet or greenhouse with a locked door to limit access to them.You cannot plant marijuana in a place that’s visible from a public place.You must grow plants on your own property and, if you live on a property you don’t own, you must get permission to grow from the owner of the property.You may not grow cannabis within 25 miles of a state-licensed store, in a place which is visible to the public, or on a property you don’t own/don’t have permission to plant on.PenaltiesPenalties will be charged to people who don’t follow the above rules. The general penalties are.Furthermore, it remains highly illegal across the country to traffic marijuana. You’re only allowed possession of a large amount if you have a state license to either sell through a store or cultivate cannabis. If you’re caught transporting or importing without a license, you will be charged with a felony, even if you’re unaware of the drug’s presence.These laws and penalties are structured under NRS 453.3385. Each penalty depends on how much marijuana you’re in possession of when you’re caught:Low-Level Trafficking If you’re in possession of 50 pounds, but less than 1,000 pounds, you’ll be charged with a Category C Felony. Mid-Level Trafficking If you’re in possession of 1,000 pounds, but less than 5,000 pounds, you’ll be charged with a Category B Felony. Large-Level Trafficking If you’re in possession of 5,000 pounds or more, you’ll be charged with a Category A Felony.In order to get a sense of the consequences, the following list explains the typical penalties attached to each category of a felony within Nevada:Marijuana DUIDo not get high and drive!Marijuana DUIs work similarly to alcohol-related DUIs. If you’re under the age of 21, penalties may vary. However, most penalties are strict.When you receive your first DUI, you’ll be charged with a misdemeanor which will result in the following consequences:Between 2 days to 6 months in a state jail and/or up to 96 hours of community service.A fine which will range between $400 and $1,000.A Nevada driving under the influence school.The Nevada Victim Panel (also known as a MADD lecture).90-day driver’s suspension.When you receive a second DUI, you can expect:Up to 6 months in a state jail and/or residential confinement.A fine which will be no more than $1,000.A drug and alcohol treatment program.The Nevada Victim Impact Panel.1-year driver’s license suspension.When you receive a third DUI, you can expect:Between 1 to 6 years in prison.A fine which will be no more than $5,000.Alcohol and drug evaluations and/or alcohol and drug treatment.The Nevada Victim Impact Panel.3-year driver’s license suspension.It should be noted that if a DUI inflicts either pain or death, you will be prosecuted under harsher penalties. In many cases, just hurting someone results in a Category B Felony which results in 20 years imprisonment and a fine of up to $5,000.Also, if you have previous DUI charges against you and get another which results in the death of another person, you’ll automatically be charged with a Category A felony. This will get you betweeen 25 years to life imprisonment without possibility of parole until after 10 years.If you are under the influence of marijuana and need a ride, it’s important to remember you have options other than driving yourself. These include:Calling a sober friend to pick you up.Calling a ride-sharing service, such as Uber or Lyft.Using public transportation, such as a taxi, bus, or train.Views on MarijuanaRecreational cannabis was barely won in the state of Nevada – the final vote resulted in a 54 to 46 split. In fact, if you were to look at a map of the vote, you’ll notice the majority of regions in Nevada were against marijuana legalization. Therefore, we can’t define the entire state’s views on marijuana through the fact that it’s legalized.Just as with California, each county has its own rules and regulations when it comes to cannabis consumption. Though the law has been embraced within the areas surrounding Las Vegas and Reno, most of the state hasn’t set up marijuana dispensaries. And they may not feel any need to in the near future.This is important to note because though it’s legal to consume cannabis throughout the entire state, it’s illegal to purchase marijuana from sources besides state-licensed dispensaries. Therefore, those in the regions without dispensaries are at risk of breaking the law in order to gain a legal supply.Furthermore, if marijuana shows up on a drug test, you may be denied certain benefits, such as work or welfare.Is Marijuana Addictive?Marijuana can absolutely be addictive – both physically and mentally. It’s estimated that 30% of people who smoke cannabis have some level of a marijuana use disorder. This is more likely the case if people consume marijuana prior to the age of 18.The physical aspects of addiction will not appear with everyone who smokes. For the most part, chronic smokers (people who smoke daily) are the ones most effected. Physical addiction qualities will reveal the following signs:AggressionCravingsDifficulty falling asleepDifficulty sleepingLoss of appetiteRaise in body temperatureRestlessnessSweatingThe mental aspects of marijuana addiction are more prominent. Delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the main active ingredient in cannabis, causes the drug to be psychoactive. Meaning people will experience a more mental high rather than a physical. Therefore, the addiction is likewise more mental. The psychological symptoms of addiction to weed often include:AngerAnxietyDepressionDifficulty concentratingIrritabilityMood changesPeople who are physically dependent on marijuana can expect to feel withdrawal symptoms when they quit using. Withdrawal occurs when the brain and body return to a natural, THC-freestate. Not everyone will experience the same withdrawal symptoms, however, the following is a list of the most common symptoms reported by people:Abdominal crampsAggressionAnxiety.ChillsCravingsHeadachesIrritabilityLack of concentrationLack of focusLack of appetiteMild depressionMood swingsNauseaRestlessnessSleep disordersSweatingWeight lossIf you or anyone you love is currently struggling with marijuana addiction, there are available resources to help you. Feel free to give us a call for advice.Marijuana TreatmentIf you or anyone you love is struggling with marijuana addiction, there are marijuana addiction treatment options available. Since addiction is very personal and differs from person to person, treatment will likewise differ. Typically, you can expect to take the following five steps:Medical AssessmentThrough drug tests, interviews, and a full medical/family history, your addiction will be evaluated for the sake of discovering the best treatment course for you.DetoxSince marijuana dependence isn’t as brutal as other drugs, not everyone will need to enter detox. However, those who do will want to make sure they find themselves a reputable detox center. Not only for the sake of having professional assistance for weaning off the drug, but also to relieve specific withdrawal symptoms.Psychological TreatmentsThe purpose of psychological treatment and talk therapy is to teach you how to go back to your day-to-day life without using marijuana to handle emotional and life stressors. It begins with taking personal responsibility and build from here.Some people will find individual therapy most beneficial. This allows for a one-on-one interaction with a professional who seeks to discover the root of your marijuana addiction and help you change your throught and beliefs. Others find group therapy more beneficial as it allows you to relate with those going through similar problems.Educational SessionsOne of the most important things you can do for yourself is to learn about addiction and how weed works on the brain. The goal is to make you aware of the psychoactive effects of THC to help prevent relapse and consider alternative ways to feel good.Supportive ServicesSome individuals will benefit from supportive services. These include:Financial assistanceHousing assistanceLegal assistanceMedical assistanceVocational trainingYour QuestionsMarijuana can be useful. But it can also get in the way of your best self. If you’re ready for help, please reach out and ask. Learn more about how marijuana addiction is diagnosed and treated by professionals. You don’t need to do it alone.If you have any further questions pertaining to marijuana laws in Nevada or cannabis addiction, we invite you to ask them in the comments below. We try to reply to each comment in a prompt and personal manner. If you have any advice to give when it comes to these topics, we would also love to hear from you. Source: https://addictionblog.org/nevada/laws/marijuana

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oselatra · 6 years

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The Arkansas prison scandal

In the 1960s, Tom Murton attempted to reform Cummins prison farm, but lost his job after unearthing three skeletons on the grounds.

By Colin Woodward

Fifty years ago, on Jan. 29, 1968, Arkansas prison superintendent Tom Murton, with members of the press on hand, unearthed three skeletons buried at Cummins prison farm, located along the Arkansas River in Lincoln County. Murton, who had heard rumors of men buried near the levee, believed the decayed bones were those of prisoners murdered and dumped on the prison's 16,000-acre grounds.

Murton's discovery of "Bodiesburg," as it became known, made international news, embarrassed Gov. Winthrop Rockefeller and infuriated conservative politicians. It also led to Murton's firing and banishment from the field of prison management. His act of "grave robbery," as some put it, led to an investigation, inspired a major Hollywood movie and became one of the most infamous moments in Arkansas history. But what exactly did Murton find, and how did it affect prison reform?

For most of the 20th century, the Arkansas prison system, as one judge wrote in 1970, was a "dark and evil world." When Rockefeller became governor in January 1967, he placed prison reform at the top of his reform agenda. In his inaugural address, he said Arkansas had the worst penitentiary in the country, and he called for "clearing up deplorable conditions within our prisons, our probation and parole systems." At the time, Arkansas had only two male prisons. Cummins — the biggest — contained white and black adult inmates. Tucker, which was much smaller, housed only white prisoners, most of whom were under 30 years old. The third unit was the tiny women's reformatory, located on the grounds at Cummins. Few women were incarcerated there, though some were serving time for offenses such as excessive drinking.

Cummins and Tucker were working farms, modeled after the plantations of the Old South. Men toiled for no money, and the prisons were run for profit (some years they made money, others they didn't). Altogether, there were fewer than 1,500 people in the Arkansas prison system, roughly one-tenth of the present-day number.

What the prisons lacked in numbers, however, they made up for in cruelty. Shortly before Rockefeller entered office, Gov. Orval Faubus had begun a State Police investigation that uncovered systematic corruption and brutality at Tucker farm, where inmates and prison officials alike engaged in torture, beatings and bribery. Most notorious among the police findings was the "Tucker Telephone," an old- fashioned crank phone found in a shoebox in the warden's home at Tucker. The device was used to torture inmates by attaching a wire to a prisoner's genitals. A particularly unfortunate inmate got a "long distance call" that sent electricity searing through his body. The experience was agonizing.

In 1967, Arkansas was one of only three states — along with Louisiana and Mississippi — that still used the trusty system, whereby inmates themselves ran the prisons. Trusties were men you supposedly could trust, and to save money, politicians let inmates decide how the racially segregated barracks were run and how best to manage the crops growing on some of the nation's best farm land. Prisoners worked as guards, checked in new inmates, issued mail, cooked food, raised livestock and provided medical care.

Under the blazing Delta sun, long-line riders armed with pistols, rifles and shotguns patrolled the grounds on horseback while rank men worked fields full of cotton, rice, soybeans and cucumbers. Men who didn't work hard were punished like slaves. Should a rider shoot a man trying to escape, he was given a free pass out of the prison. A long leather strap was another instrument of terror. Because men were housed in barracks, rather than cells, they had little protection at night against roaming thieves and sexual predators.

"Freeworld" employees were few in number at Tucker and Cummins. Wardens and superintendents ruled the prisons like plantations, where workers were always mindful of who was boss, while at the same time given surprising latitude. Trusties developed a hierarchy that had trusties at the top; do-pops (pronounced "doh" pops, so-called because they popped doors open for trusties) below them; and rank men at the bottom. Before 1967, few people knew the misery of daily life at Tucker and Cummins.

Murton was thrust into the maelstrom, but he was up to the challenge. He was a penologist from California who was working on a doctoral degree in criminology at the University of California Berkeley when Rockefeller hired him. He was the first penologist ever to work at an Arkansas prison. Previously, Murton had worked in Alaska (where he was fired for giving controversial testimony about prisons there) and taught college in Illinois. The governor's decision to hire him represented a break from the "old boy" system that had dominated Arkansas politics before then.

In early 1967, Murton began his work at Tucker. He soon realized he could not take anything for granted at the prison: At one point, he wrote a memo to inmates asking that they not defecate on the floor. Murton's task seemed impossible, but over time he made progress. In addition to cleaning up sanitation, he abolished the use of the strap as punishment (banned by law but still used), bettered the men's diet, cracked down on bribery and combated the problem of sexual assaults. Most important of all, Murton gained the trust of inmates. Murton had a blue-collar approach to reform. Clad in a work shirt and jeans, he believed in dealing with inmates honestly and in a straightforward manner. Murton had no illusions about who was running the prisons: It was the inmates. When confronted with the problem of disarming trusties, for example, he simply asked them to hand over their weapons. They did.

Murton encountered the systematic abuses, violence and corruption at Tucker that the State Police had discovered in its 1966 report. But just as important as cleaning up the prisons for Murton was the task of changing people's minds about what a modern penitentiary should be. Arkansans thought of the prisons as a dumping ground for criminals, nothing more. Men were supposed to do their time and help the prisons pay their way. Murton saw a total absence of rehabilitation efforts, education programs or vocational training. Murton defined reform as "a program that would enable [inmates] to survive with some dignity as human beings while they served their sentences." Reform, Murton believed, was a constant irritant to the system, and his sarcastic sense of humor, unorthodox methods and sometimes abrasiveness brought him into conflict with administrators and politicians.

In one year, Murton made improvements large and small at Tucker. In addition to defanging the trusty system, he let death row inmates paint their dreary cells and even started a prison band. When O.E. Bishop, superintendent of Cummins, retired in December 1967, Murton got his job. But Murton wanted to manage the entire state prison system, and he was under the impression that Rockefeller was going to put him in charge. In January 1968, Murton started work at Cummins, but his tenure at the state's largest prison proved short-lived. A few weeks after beginning his job, he decided to make a dramatic move in the name of prison reform. An inmate informer named Reuben Johnson told him that there were bodies buried on the grounds at Cummins (within site of the guard towers). Murton had dug for bodies at Tucker but had had no luck finding anything. But with Johnson's help, Murton's diggers exhumed three skeletons. As shocking as the discovery was, Murton thought there might be as many as 200 bodies buried on the grounds. He wanted his men to keep digging.

With media on hand as Murton dug, the discovery of skeletons generated instant national headlines. Murton was convinced the skeletons were of murdered men. Others weren't so sure. Dr. Rodney F. Carlton, the first state medical examiner in Arkansas history, tried to determine who the skeletons were in life and how they died. Carlton discounted much of Reuben Johnson's information; however, he did not rule out that the remains were those of prisoners. In the meantime, Carlton advised officials to have a pathologist on hand if more bodies were discovered.

No more bodies were ever dug up at Cummins. And yet, Murton's grisly discovery put Arkansas's prisons in an ugly national, even international, spotlight. London papers The Times and Economist as well as the Bunte of Munich picked up the story. Cummins elicited uncomfortable comparisons to not only Southern plantations, but the concentration camps of World War II. In short, Murton had created for Rockefeller a public relations nightmare. In the face of a media storm, Rockefeller ordered Murton to stop digging.

The issue turned into a legal and political battle. Murton said he had had permission from Rockefeller aides to dig up bodies. The Rockefeller administration denied having done so. Murton refused to back down from his claims that he had found the bodies of murdered men. Critics said he had found nothing more than a pauper's grave that had been there for decades.

Any rational person might have reasoned that in the nearly 70 years Cummins had operated under prisoner management, many men had died, whether violently or not. Obviously they had to have been buried somewhere, and it was likely prisoners would not have chosen to bury them far from where the men died. In the wait for a definite answer on the origin of the skeletons, Rockefeller did not want Murton to discover more. It was an election year, and Rockefeller didn't want to lose control of prison reform.

Murton's fate was in the hands of the Board of Corrections, who had the power to fire prison officials. Murton wanted to stay at Cummins, where he could continue his reform efforts. But he had become a liability, and even his defenders saw that he was his own worst enemy. Few doubted Murton's brilliance, earnestness and energy. What he lacked was diplomacy.

The Board of Corrections fired Murton on March 7, 1968. The next day, Rockefeller held a press conference in which he called Murton a "loner," adding that "when you work in government you cannot work as a loner." Rockefeller said he "regretted a great deal when Tom Murton parted ways with Arkansas." But Murton did not "part ways." The Board of Corrections not only fired him, it ordered him to leave Cummins immediately. "Noise isn't everything," Rockefeller said of Murton at the press conference. "Action is the thing that is important." It was Murton's actions, though, that had landed him in trouble. Murton was too willing to act on his own authority, and that made him a political threat that Rockefeller could not tolerate.

Murton never worked in prisons again. Rockefeller praised Murton's replacement, Victor Urban, who had traveled with Murton from California to help with the prisons. In May 1968, the Arkansas Criminal Investigation Division issued a report on the skeletons. Murton, not surprisingly, was critical of it, which he saw as sloppy and lacking professional rigor. Rockefeller called it a "mishmash of information" that he could not act upon.

Victor Urban didn't last long, either. In October 1968, Cummins again entered national headlines when guards shot at scores of inmates who were protesting prison conditions. No men were killed in the shooting, but 24 were wounded. Associate Superintendent Gary Haydis, who had previously worked in California and had ordered the shooting, was charged with civil rights violations by a federal court, though he was later acquitted.

In November 1968, Rockefeller appointed Bob Sarver as the first head of the Department of Correction. By then, Rockefeller had won a second term as governor. To win re-election, he had not taken any chances, going so far as to enlist the support of Johnny Cash, who played at a handful of Rockefeller rallies. Sarver had worked in prisons at West Virginia before moving to Arkansas, where he faced the task of not only running the penitentiary, but fighting the public relations war that Murton had intensified.

Murton had his revenge on Rockefeller and his administration. In 1969, he published "Accomplices to the Crime: The Arkansas Prison Scandal," which he co-wrote with Hollywood writer Joe Hyams. The book was a detailed and scathing indictment of Rockefeller, state officials and the enemies of prison reform. Murton showed how he received more cooperation from prisoners themselves — including a dubious but likeable murderer called "Chainsaw Jack" — than Rockefeller and state officials. Murton's book argued that reform had to come from the inside out: Prison directors had to work with inmates honestly to better the system. Change could not come from the top down.

Murton's book sold well, though it had few fans among Arkansans. In addition to writing a best seller, Murton testified in 1969 before the U.S. Senate committee on juvenile delinquency. Arkansas at the time had no age limit for inmates — thus, boys as young as 14 could be thrown in with adult, hardened criminals. Before the Senate, Murton drew similarities between the modern-day prisons in Arkansas and the slave plantations. "While slavery was officially abolished in the South over a century ago," Murton said, "landholders quickly looked to the prisons for a cheap source of labor." Murton again recounted the beatings at Arkansas's prisons, the buried bodies and the public indifference toward them.

Sarver, too, testified before the Senate. He, however, fared worse than Murton did before the committee. Sarver was dismissive of the stories of homosexuality, bribes, escapes and corruption, saying, "What else is new?" Sen. Thomas J. Dodd (D-Conn.), who was serving on the committee, was surprised at Sarver's dismissiveness of prison abuses. At the same time, Sarver rejected the notion, put forth by Murton, that the same "headcrackers" were in charge at the prisons — that nothing had changed.

Murton persisted in telling his story, and whatever his accomplishments in reforming the prison, he was skilled at using the media to help him. In 1970, he appeared on TV's popular "Dick Cavett Show," where he again recounted tales of corruption and brutality at the prisons. He had Cavett convinced that there were many more bodies buried at Cummins. Sarver also appeared on the show to answer Murton's accusations. And though Sarver defended his and the Rockefeller administration's record, he did not try to discredit Murton. In fact, he said Murton was fired because he was "too honest."

Bad news for Arkansas kept coming. In February 1970, federal Judge J. Smith Henley ruled in the second of two decisions in the landmark Holt v. Sarver case (Holt was attorney Lawrence J. "Jack" Holt) that the Arkansas prison system was unconstitutional. The prison, he ruled, violated the Eighth Amendment's prohibition against "cruel and unusual punishment" and the 14th Amendment's right to equal protection. Henley called the prisons a "dark and evil world completely alien to the free world ... administered by criminals under unwritten rules and customs completely foreign to free world culture." The Sarver decision, the Harvard Law Review noted, was the first where "an entire prison system faces possible abolition on constitutional grounds." The state's lawyers appealed the decision, but it would be more than a decade before the prisons were again deemed constitutional.

The Holt v. Sarver decision seemed to vindicate Murton. But unable to find a job in the prisons, Murton settled into academic jobs. He spent most of the 1970s at the University of Minnesota. In 1971, Murton was interviewed by Playboy magazine. In the interview, he had another opportunity to articulate his vision of American prisons and the need to reduce recidivism. The next year, he published "Inside Prison, U.S.A.," which was "Accomplices to the Crime" under a different title.

But what about the Cummins skeletons? In April 1972, the Arkansas Gazette reported that Dr. Clyde C. Snow, a friend of medical examiner Carlton and a forensic anthropologist with the Civil Aeromedical Institute of Oklahoma City, said he had studied the Cummins skeletons for a year. Snow could only theorize about who the men were and how and when they had died. Given the age of the bodies, they were likely inmates who had been buried generations before they were dug up. Snow said he could not determine what exactly the nature of the cemetery was based on only three skeletons, but he kept working on the skeleton mystery. In 1976, at a meeting of the Arkansas Historical Association in Helena, Snow gave a paper in which he challenged the idea that the bodies unearthed at Cummins had been murdered. Snow, however, never published his findings. The mystery continued.

In 1980, the film "Brubaker" was released. The movie starred Robert Redford as an Ohio prison reformer, a role based on Murton, who worked as a historical consultant to the film. Murton made no money from the movie, but it was profitable, garnered positive reviews and earned an Oscar nomination for best screenplay. In Arkansas, the film's release again brought up the unpleasant 1968 scandal. The states were still struggling to achieve compliance with the Holt v. Sarver decision.

In 1982, after a 10-year struggle, the Arkansas penitentiary became compliant with federal standards. Murton kept writing about the prisons and Arkansas, and with typical sarcasm. In 1985, he published the short book "Crime and Punishment in Arkansas: Adventures in Wonderland." Murton died in 1990 in a small town in central Oklahoma. After his death, the journal "Social Justice" memorialized Murton as a "longstanding penal reformer who was never given enough of a chance to implement his bold ideas." Since Murton's death, Arkansas's prison population has exploded, now numbering around 18,000 inmates. Conditions have improved dramatically since Murton's time (in 1996, Cummins was certified by the American Correctional Association), but the prison industrial complex has its own problems, about which Murton no doubt would have an opinion were he alive today.

So, who exactly were the men that Murton dug up in January 1968, and how exactly did they die? We will never know. What is certain is that were Cummins abandoned tomorrow, it would provide ample study for anthropologists and archeologists. As it stands, "Bodiesburg" will remain one of the darkest chapters in the history of the Arkansas prison system. It's a story many Arkansans remember and some still don't like hearing told.

Colin Woodward is the author of "Marching Masters: Slavery, Race, and the Confederate Army during the Civil War," published in 2014. A former Arkansas resident, he is writing a book on Johnny Cash and has been researching and writing about the Arkansas prison farms for six years.

The Arkansas prison scandal

#The Arkansas prison scandal

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