Pen pal from state pen can save his ink

An inmate buried inside Washington’s foremost Handcuff Hotel has taken a break from the bustle of prison life (filing toothbrush handles into shivs, tattooing “L-O-V-E” and “H-A-T-E” on the knuckles of cellmates, bending over for the soap …) to write me a fan letter.

The envelope arrived in my office mailbox bearing the Washington State Penitentiary’s Walla Walla return address.

“Dear Mr. Clark,” it began.

Call me old fashioned. But in this impersonal age of e-mails and instant messaging, a handwritten letter is a much warmer way for a convicted felon to say howdy.

Figuring his name might not ring a bell, Jason Graham (inmate 796147) instructed me to think back four years. That’s when he had – to quote Graham – a “mishap” with the Spokane Police Department.

A mishap?

Hmm. Whatever could it be?

In my world, mishaps are those unlucky little accidents we all experience from time to time. Breaking a window during a backyard ball game, say. Or bumping fenders in a supermarket parking lot.

Drawing a blank, I set the letter aside and entered the prisoner’s name into our newspaper computer databank.

“Man sentenced to 102 years for shooting at police,” read the bold headline that popped up, “Jason Graham fired dozens of shots during gunbattle.”

Oh, yeah. That mishap.

Graham was said to have fired two dozen rounds from a semiautomatic assault rifle during a Jan. 7, 2002, shootout with police outside a crowded downtown Intermodal Center. Graham was wounded in the exchange. It’s a minor miracle no officers or civilians were hit.

The shootout, as reported, began after police pursued a speeding car that bore Graham and Jeremiah Jones. Jones was sentenced to 28 years for his role.

But this is not the proper venue to rehash old mishaps.

This is the place to note that Graham’s release date, according to a prison media contact, is the year 2093.

That’s with good time, of course. If Graham doesn’t keep his nose clean he could be eating institutional goulash until they thaw the frozen head and torso of baseball legend Ted Williams.

But getting back to the letter, Graham sent it as an attaboy after one of my satiric rants on local law enforcement.

“I have to tell you I got a laugh out of your article,” Graham wrote. “I’m happy I’m not the only one who can see the SPD for who they really are and the ‘blue wall’ they have built around them.”

Save the camaraderie crap for your convict cronies, punk. If I want a locked up lap dog, I’ll go to the pound.

It’s one thing for me to crack wise about the flaws and foibles of our police department. That’s how I earn a paycheck.

You, Jason Graham, don’t have the right. You relinquished it the moment you started breaking laws and squeezing a trigger.

Besides, most of my beefs are with the police brass. The department, with a few exceptions, is made up of competent professionals who will rush into harm’s way in a crisis.

I know. A week ago, some lowlife thief came into my home. He burglarized it while my wife and I were in it. Fortunately, he was spotted while leaving our yard.

The law came a’running to my 911 call – despite the fact it was me who called it in.

Now that’s dedication.

They nabbed a suspect a couple blocks from our house, charged him with multiple felonies and booked him into jail.

The police were great and I can’t thank them enough. I’ll write more about this once the matter is adjudicated.

Hopefully, the creep has earned himself a prolonged stay in the Handcuff Hotel. With any luck maybe he’ll one day share a pen with my new pen pal.

If I close my eyes I can see the two of them sitting in a cell, comparing mishaps while the years drag by.