Sending my Parents to Prison (as Tourists)

The big treat for my birthday weekend was a visit from my parents.  They arrived on Friday evening, the day after my birthday, and we caught up over pizza at the local pizza joint, played a game of Pandemic (thanks, Anna and Mike, for introducing us to that game during your visit!), and stayed up way too late looking at wedding photos.

 

A view of Golden Gate Bridge from the Presidio.

On Saturday we played tourists after picking up Alex from the airport.  We tried San Franciscan food, explored the Presidio and Fisherman’s Wharf, and journeyed out into the bay to visit Alcatraz. 

 The Rock.

Surprisingly, none of us had ever visited Alcatraz before.  We’d been warned that it would be cold, so we loaded up Alex’s backpack with sweaters, jackets, and scarves.  Then, we stepped out into the 90 degree heat wave that had hit the city.  Undeterred, we still carried all of the warm clothes with us, just in case.  It would prove to be a beautiful, warm, and clear day, even on the island, which meant most of the warm clothes stayed inside Alex’s backpack.  Fortunately, they didn’t weigh much.

Looking back at the shore when entering the dock.

We began our visit to Alcatraz with the last walking tour of the day.  We learned of two escape attempts while slowly making our up the long and steep driveway to the main prison. 

The first was the story of John Giles.  He was assigned to work the dock during World War II.  At this time in Alcatraz’s history, military ships stationed in the bay brought their laundry to the island to be washed.  Piece by single piece Giles collected an entire sergeant’s uniform fro articles that would fall near where he was sweeping.  Once he had a complete uniform, he simply stepped aboard a military boat as it was leaving the Alcatraz dock.  Unfortunately for him, he was quickly missed, as the protocol was to do a head count with every boat that left the island.  He did enjoy a brief bit of freedom on the boat, but once it docked at Angel Island, the warden was waiting to take him back to the Rock.

The lighthouse on Alcatraz.

The second was the story of John Paul Scott and Darl Parker.  These two men cut through their bars, covered themselves in grease, climbed down the rocky slopes of the island, stuffed inflated gloves into their prison uniforms, and jumped into the bay.  Parker turned back early – he had broken his ankle earlier in the escape, and the injury proved too much for the swim.  Scott miraculously made it all the way across the bay.  He was found on the rocks under the south side of the Golden Gate Bridge barely alive due to hypothermia.  He is the only known inmate to have successfully made the swim.  Unfortunately for him, it was quickly realized that he was the escaped convict from Alcatraz, and, like Giles, he was taken back to the Rock.

The swim from the Rock.

At the end of the walking tour, we made our way into the main prison for their self-guided audio tour.  I thoroughly enjoyed having what felt like an intimate tour of the prison at my own pace.  I ended up way behind my parents and Alex because I would pause the audio until I’d read every word on each sign that went along with the tour or taken in enough of the details of the specific cell that the audio tour was addressing.

A sign for tourists in the kitchen.
(I have a terrible time following this rule while at buffets.  And, now that I have Alex, who seems to have a bottomless pit for a stomach, I have little incentive to learn to correctly judge what my own stomach can hold.  Whatever food I take will be eaten.  If not by me, then by him.)

The audio tour discussed more escapes, specifically the Battle of Alcatraz and the Great Escape.  The Great Escape, perpetrated by Frank Morris and brothers Clarence and John Anglin, left us (like many before us and likely many after us) craving more information about just what happened to those three men.  We even got the Clint Eastwood movie, The Great Escape, from the library the next day to feed our craving.

Deterioration.

These men took advantage of the crumbling walls to chisel their way out of the back of their cells.  They put dummies into their beds to make it look like they were sleeping.  They climbed the pipes in the walls between cellblocks and crossed the roof of the prison.  They then climbed down the side of the prison with their makeshift raincoat life preservers and makeshift raincoat raft, launched into the bay, and were never heard from again.

The prison yard.

We finished our trip to the island with a quick trip through the prison yard and then boarded the boat back to Fisherman’s Wharf.  We had a nice birthday dinner on the docks, followed by a scenic drive back home along the coast and through Golden Gate Park.

On Sunday we tackled the refrigerator disaster, which truly deserves its own post.

On Monday we picnicked outside, toured Stanford, read the many inscriptions in the Stanford Memorial Church, walked as much of the Dish as the heat would allow, and said our good byes.  Their visit was a delight, but it was awfully short.

[NOTE: We took a picture of the shiny green water bottle on Alcatraz to continue documenting its adventures, but I can't seem to find it.]