A cold rain fell on Worcester as we made our egress (some might say escape) from the city. After a brief scare, we realized that the Saturday rail schedule would be different and waited around, observing a minor confrontation between two rather unlikeable people. Overestimating the time I would require to be there on time, I headed straight to my volunteering for the day rather than going home. I took the Red Line farther than I've ever gone, all the way to Quincy Center on the Braintree branch. Once there, I realized that I still had about two hours to kill, so I called my mother to give her an update and got some food at a deli nearby. My volunteer engagement was scheduled to be in the basement of a large church, but the door was locked, so I took shelter from the rain and ate under the overhang at the front of the building.
Someone finally let me inside, where the Prison Book Fund was operating for the day. It's an all-volunteer group which sends free books to prisoners in order to further their intellectual pursuits, and I immediately took an interest to the work. I stamped packages for delivery, read prisoners' letters to determine what sort of books they were looking for, and wrapped up parcels. Other Northeastern students arrived in a group, we all worked together around a table, and I had a pretty good time.
If possible, I'll continue putting in time here next semester - it's
work that speaks to me, feels worthwhile, and isn't grueling in
difficulty. Some of the mail is quite interesting, like the letter I opened wherein the writer described his efforts to obtain paralegal certification, as well as naming his favorite patriot (John Adams.) Some others had a more melancholy bent, such as an inmate from New Jersey who reported that the state has discontinued all continuing education programs for prisoners. This disturbs me due to the United States' already out-of-control prison population and tendency to put people in prison and leave them there. How can there be rehabilitation if there are no avenues for personal betterment while incarcerated? Then came the letter from someone at "Liberty Correctional Institute," which, while located in Liberty County, Florida, still sounds like a sick joke.
Aside: we were given a brief tour of the church by the volunteer leader, who indicated that the program is secular but grateful for the church's assistance, and that the place is of historical interest at any rate. It's a beautiful Greek Revival building with a large domed ceiling, and I may have forgotten to mention that there are two dead United States presidents in the basement - John Adams and John Quincy Adams. The only other place where there are multiple presidents buried is Arlington National Cemetery, which hardly counts as exceptional due to its size. The Adams' First Ladies are also buried there, so my count of unexpected basement tombs for the day comes to four.
After a very brief break at home, Harrison and I went over to Alanna's for drinks and free pizza. Before long, we headed for the Paradise Rock Club to see a band called The Faint. When we got there, Alanna realized that she "lost" her wallet, so we commenced a frantic search. On the Green Line back to Northeastern, she found it tucked in a non-pocket in her bag, and Harrison and I were momentarily stupefied. We returned to the venue, saw a girl fall and eat concrete, and got inside in time for the last song in the opening band's set. Somehow, despite being an hour to an hour and a half late, we were right on time. The Faint was an enjoyable dance-rock outfit, and I danced harder than I had at any show before. I guess I went pretty crazy. It was a busy day, but I had a wonderful time with Sabs, Harrison and Alanna and I wouldn't change a thing.
Quote of the day:
"This bitch got balls!" - douche in the Worcester train station
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