Writings of Daniel H. Harris

Daniel H. Harris

   
Daniel H. Harris #622851   
Estelle H/S   
264 FM 3478   
Huntsville, TX 77320

As my mother's fourth child, second accident, I entered the world on 10/12/60. Both sisters found me irresistible and without restraint spoiled me. Our oldest sibling, Jody, hated me with an unequaled passion for being male and usurping his position as youngest grandson to our maternal grandmother. In this mix I came to see feminine admiration as my due and learned to run fast when necessary to avoid the sure retribution of my brother.

In the summer of '64, I was the only child left in the nest. My parents promptly decided to move the nest to the depths of Mobile, Alabama's woodlands. Exploration of my new home took much time. As any teenage boy would, I found the swamps and creeks an urgent and compulsive draw. I loved it.

Due to an early love of drink and having both legs broken when I was hit by a car, I lost a semester of credits. This led to my greatest mistake: I quit school. A very stupid move that left me with a tenth grade education and may have been instrumental in my ending up in prison.

Here in Texas, with little hope of ever being released, I embraced mental pursuits to pass the time. In 1994 I rectified that earlier mistake by scoring 300 on the GED test and being the salutatorian of a three prison graduating class. This was a shock to the testing proctor, who fully expected me to fail because I left each day after only an hour. Leaving my classmates to struggle on without me.

Writing has been an entertaining pastime for years. Now it is my vocation. Beginning in 2001, due to a friend telling me, "Danny, you should be writing," I began to take writing seriously. The goal I've set for myself is to reveal prison in the harsh light of truth. It would not be unexpected if the powers that be attacked me for this effort. Truth is their greatest fear.

First, and always, I write for myself. But in every word I attempt to lace the air of hope to change this country's opinion of prisoners and the prisons which house them. Until the goal of prison is to rehabilitate all prisoners and return them to freedom, prison must be considered only a punitive and counterproductive measure where all too often the pain of incarceration exceeds the bounds of propriety and turns to torture.

Though the sword of my intellect may be duller than others I shall swing it with vigor as long as I draw breath and prison remains unchanged.