The Prison Next Door -- Tiny Town Of Connell Discovers Real Benefits In Hosting State Lockup

CONNELL, Franklin County - The noonday sun began to cast a warm glow over low-rolling alfalfa and sprawling wheat fields as Bill Booker went about his work tidying up Pioneer Park. A few feet away, children splashed in a pool and a young family pulled out sandwiches and pop for a picnic.

It's a scene of serenity in one of Washington's farm communities, one with an unusual twist.

Booker is a convicted drug dealer from Seattle serving time, but many people in this small farming community don't mind seeing him walking about free.

A 400-bed state prison has come to the heartland of the Mid-Columbia Valley. This spring marked its second year with a quiet but growing reputation for being a friendly neighbor.

Inmates from the Coyote Ridge Correctional Facility are putting the final touches on a new city library. They play music at local festivals. The prison gives tours to residents, and the Chamber of Commerce is thinking of listing the lockup on its updated brochure.

"It's never going to be a tourist attraction but we're trying to get open acceptance," Superintendent Phil Stanley said of the prison. ". . . The last thing I want to be is some tower on the hill, out of sight, out of mind."

Unlike stricter lockups at McNeil Island and Monroe, Coyote Ridge is a minimum-security facility that has no watchtowers or armed guards. It also has the most extensive inmate community-work program of its kind in the state prison system.

Five days a week, 100 inmates are transported in 10-man teams to places as far away as Walla Walla and Moses Lake to pull weeds and dig ditches for city and county governments. In Connell, they've repainted city utility trucks, tidied up the local cemetery, built a new work shed and helped bulldoze a site for a new senior community center.

Booker, 37, was cooking meals at the prison for a while but passed the screening test in spring to work in Connell's parks. He said he's saving and sending some money back home to help his fiancee pay bills as he completes a 42-month sentence.

"I feel like I'm part of the community again," he said.

Situated between Tri-Cities and Ritzville, this town of 2,400 remains one of Washington's most geographically isolated communities.

Low-slung buildings, a french-fry plant and a few hundred homes poke up among thousands of acres of farmland and dry rocky terrain. Cars and trucks move slowly along downtown's Columbia Avenue, which is too short to have stop signs or lights. And while it's a 35-minute drive to major restaurants and stores, parents don't have to go far to find their children. There aren't many places to hide.

Mayor Jim Klindworth says Connell applied for the prison for the same reason three other rural communities in Washington are now bidding for a 1,936-bed facility - a boost for the economy.

The lockup in Connell is much smaller, but its relationship with local residents offers a glimpse of what may lie ahead for one of the three finalists: Grandview, Goldendale or Grays Harbor County.

About the most negative thing anyone here has to say about Coyote Ridge is that it's had an inordinate number of escapes - 31 in two years. Still, locals downplay the walk-aways as part of the business and say they know of no crimes committed in the area by the escapees.

"The downside is that there are walk-offs and escapes. The good side is they don't stay in Connell," the mayor said.

Prison officials view the work program as a valuable way to keep inmates busy and prepare them for release; local governments like the extra help, which they can buy cheap - paying wages of $1 an hour.

The prison screens each potential worker, excluding sex offenders and anyone with an escape record. Each work team also has supervisors who check in at least once an hour.

Connell residents have grown so accustomed to seeing inmates in their trademark jeans and blue work shirts that it's not uncommon for them to wave and smile.

"I wouldn't worry too much about them. If they're going to be out soon anyway, we better treat them as human," said Bill Erickson, a young father who moved his family to town just before Coyote Ridge opened.

For longtimers like Gwenetha Dougherty, a business owner and wheat farmer, the shining accomplishment has been the new city library.

There, inmates gutted a 2,000-square-foot building that once served as the city hall and fire station. They installed new wiring and plumbing, as well as handcrafted bookcases and cabinets made especially to fit. A fresh sign was put up, too, giving the entire shell a sparkling look.

But the acceptance isn't universal.

Some Mid-Columbia Valley union leaders worry that local governments are relying on cheap labor.

"It takes away jobs," said Tom Reynolds, business agent for Laborers' Local 348, which represents some construction workers for the city of Pasco. "We don't feel that convicted criminals should be displacing honest, law-abiding citizens."

City officials, nonetheless, say Connell - with 15 employees on its entire staff - is getting work done that it could not otherwise afford. More generally, they think the prison is helping the town prepare for growth, which is beginning to spill over from the booming Tri-Cities area 35 miles away.

The city just bought a new police car, fire truck and computers for City Hall with the $650,000 the state gave it, and there are plans to repave downtown and put in new curbs.

Local business owners report their sales are up now that the prison is buying prescriptions and tools from retailers downtown. Visiting relatives of inmates also stay in local motels and buy goods.

One minor disappointment is that only a few dozen state employees actually live in town. City leaders figure that's because Connell - like so many other rural communities - doesn't have available housing or amenities to keep prison employees from living in the more urbanized Tri-Cities.

If there's an anxiety about change, its source is not the criminals living up on the hill but the people next door. Many families have lived here for generations and are ill at ease with some of the Mexican immigrants who live here year-round to do farm work.

As for the prison, Connell's Public Works Director John Klein is among those who say that, now that they've met inmates firsthand, they don't seem to be quite so ominous. Many inmates have developed friendships with city officials and a few are hoping to get hired once they get out of Coyote Ridge.

"I wouldn't trade em' for nothing," Klein said. "We have a good relationship that's vital."