The buzzer sounds. A white minivan is parked at the side entrance. Ron sets down the lamp he’s been fixing. It’s a quintessential thrift store item: cool and kitschy, with three porcelain horse figures on its base. Outside Ron greets a woman unloading bags of clothing from the van. He takes three bags, places them inside on the sorting counter, and returns for more. Once empty, the van pulls away; Ron sees it off with a friendly wave.
At Hidden Treasures Thrift Store in Chilliwack, BC, names, dates, and messages are scrawled on the drywall around the side door. The various colours of ink and disparate penmanship resemble the inside cover of a high school yearbook. While the words weren’t scribed by wide-eyed teenagers looking ahead to graduation, many of the messages are imbued with a similar spirit of hopefulness.
Often expressions of gratitude, the words were put there by staff, volunteers, and inmates like Ron, who is completing a work release term at Hidden Treasures.
“They all knew where I was coming from,” Ron says, “but I didn’t feel judged.”
“I know some guys get out and they feel like they have ‘convict’ tattooed on their forehead. I just didn’t feel that way. I instantly felt like I was part of the team here.”
Tools for the Trade
Whether it’s fixing a lamp, staining a table, or moving furniture, Ron takes on projects with enthusiasm and skill.
“The good Lord has given me the hands and mechanical mind. One of the volunteers asked me, ‘Where did you learn all this stuff?’ I just pick it up. Show me how do something once or twice and I’ll pick it up.”
This past December, Hidden Treasures built a room to store and repair electronics. Ron offered to help with the wiring. Before his incarceration, he was an electrical apprentice. He gave the staff a list of supplies and took care of the rest.
“To me electrical is second nature,” he says. “I think I got into it the first time I stuck a pair pliers into a socket when I was seven. I thought, ‘I know what I’m doing when I’m older.’”
Building a Relationship, One Visit at a Time
Later next month, when Ron completes his four month work release term, he’ll be one step closer to day parole. Then, after a year and a half or two, he’ll be eligible for full parole, and with that, a chance to live each day alongside his wife. Ron has been incarcerated for 28 years, and he’s been with Rita for 25 of them.
They met at a church social in jail.
“She came in wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, no makeup,” Ron says with a smile, “She wasn’t trying to impress me—which impressed me. A friend of ours had a baby, maybe six months old, and the baby needed feeding. So I said, ‘Here, hold him.’ And I started feeding the baby. It didn’t faze her. I thought, ‘Okay. This chick is cool.’”
Earlier in Ron’s incarceration, their visits were limited. But now that he’s on work release and staying at a halfway house, Rita usually sees him twice a week and often brings meals. When he returns to Mission Minimum at the end of April, he hopes to resume a schedule of weekly visits home, with a citizen escort. Like almost every relationship, Ron and Rita’s isn’t simple, but Ron’s incarceration adds a significant wrinkle that most couples don’t have to iron out.
“I respect her so much. She has stuck with me for so long, while I was inside,” Ron says. “You miss everything. You don’t have somebody to go to movies with, to go out for dinner with. You don’t get to sleep next to your partner every night.”
“When there’s a lockdown,” he continues, “she knows that something is wrong—maybe somebody’s hurt or they find drugs at the institution—but she doesn’t know if I’m okay. And for the time period of the lockdown, she has no idea.“
Preparing for What’s Next
Ron has lots of plans for day parole: He’s lined up a job building fabricated homes. He’d like to take Rita out for dinner, even though she’s a “phenomenal cook.” They both like second-hand stores, too, so he looks forward to stopping by Hidden Treasures.
“When I get day parole,” Ron says, “We want to get involved with older couples in steady relationships, people we can go out for dinner with, have something in common with.”
“I want to have older guys around,” he continues. “Guys in long-term relationships, so they understand, but they’ll also call me when I’m wrong.”
“You need those kind of people in your life. Compassionate yet honest. Pascal is that type of person. His words are always meaningful.”
Ron and Pascal, an M2/W2 Volunteer Coordinator, have been meeting for almost 20 years. Pascal is Ron’s mentor, and Ron recognizes his positive influence: “He’s willing to listen and talk, and tell you when you’re full of crap,” Ron says. “If he thinks you’re going down the wrong path, he’s gonna tell you. It’s what a lot of us need.”
When Ron finishes his work release this April, and walks out the side door at Hidden Treasures, he might look up and read the message he wrote when he first arrived: “Glad to be part of the team!”
For Ron, the road ahead will have obstacles, yet when he talks about his future, his voice is hopeful and certain. His confidence, when held against the light of his thoughtful planning and bright demeanour, appears well placed. Perhaps it’s been reinforced, in part, by the acceptance he’s experienced at Hidden Treasures.
“It’s a different experience when you do a work release, especially when you’ve been in a long time,” he says. “It’s that walk back and forth. You come to understand that you don’t have ‘convict’ written on your forehead. You’re treated with love and respect here, and you’re treated like everybody else.”
This story originally appears in the Spring 2020 issue of Impact, the M2/W2 Association newsletter.