How ALCATRAZ INMATES Ate, Slept & Survived in a 5x9 Foot Cell

Two and a half kilometers off the coast of San Francisco, on 22 acres of rock in the middle of the bay, there is a cellblock with 336 doors in it. Behind one of those doors is a room 5 feet wide and 9 feet deep. A folding table and a folding seat bolted to the wall. A shelf. A small sink. A toilet. A cot. A man standing in the middle of that room can put out both arms and touch the walls on either side. He is alone in it. One man, one cell, for as many years as his sentence runs. He is entitled to four things: food, clothing, shelter and medical care. Everything else has to be earned, and can be taken away. He is counted a dozen times a day. And for the first years, he is forbidden to speak to another prisoner at all, except at meals. So the men bail the water out of their toilets and talk to each other down the sewer pipe. No judge ever sentenced anyone to Alcatraz. There was no such sentence. Every man there was transferred, sent from another prison because of what he did inside it. On a still night, the sound of San Francisco carries across the water. New Year's Eve. A party at a yacht club a mile away. This is how Alcatraz inmates ate, slept, and survived in a 5 by 9 foot cell.