Donald Eby

Slowly the rays of the sun recede behind the darkening skies. Mount Calvary is engulfed in an unusual darkness. The world hides its face for the shame that it is looking upon. Jesus, a god man, is hanging on a cross dying between two thieves, bearing the shame of the nakedness of man and his folly of sin. A huge storm has gathered, for there is a battle between the spiritual powers of heaven. Darkness is everywhere, not only in the sky, but in the hearts of men. Lightning flashes and thunder echoes down the valley.

It was May 9, 2008, and I was delivering mulch into Western Cor rectional Institute, a State minimum and maximum-security prison facility in Allegheny County, Maryland. This prison houses approximately 3,000 inmates and covers an area of 30 acres. I needed to arrive before 2:30 p.m., since the inmates would be in the yard all going back to the mess hall. I was to be out by then.