I have blocked out so much of what happened there in that warehouse, but I remember socks being shoved down certain people's throats while they were being sat on by 5 or so other people. Their faces were ashy-blue. It was sickening and frightening. I remember Miller Newton as a sociopath.
Marsha, I must have been there with you, too, but don't remember your name. I remember Barbara, Nancy, Peggy, Elizabeth, Kathy, Virginia, Laura, Denise, Nancy, Shannon, Shaun (staff), Lisa, Leigh, Beth, and many others. Peanutbutter diets. Corned beef hash. A mound of mashed potatoes with a couple of "meatballs" and pale gravy for dinner. Pats of margarine on paper with the waxed paper covering it.
Standing heel-to-toe in line, being forced to keep eyes on the back of the head in front of me for so long that I lost track of time. Girls' raps that were so crowded that we had to sit Indian-style with my knees touched the knees of the girls next to me, and the girls in front of me and behind me touching me, too. Forced calisthenics while those who couldn't keep up the pace were kicked and sometimes dragged into intake rooms, from which they would emerge hours later looking disheveled with faces swollen and hair matted and ripped out.
It was hell. It's unbelievable that those people got away with such criminal abuse.
