Smoking to be banned in state prisons July 1
MONROE — The smoke is thick inside the housing tiers at the Monroe Correctional Complex, where half of the nearly 2,400 inmates at the state's largest prison puff hand-rolled cigarettes in their cells to help pass the time.
Eleven of the state's 12 prisons, which house more than 16,440 inmates, are among society's last bastions of heavy cigarette smoking. In Monroe, for example, officials estimate about 50 percent of inmates smoke, about double the rate for non-incarcerated people.
But come July 1, the state Department of Corrections plans to snuff out smoking among inmates and corrections officers throughout the system in an effort to lower health-care costs for those inside prison walls.
It's a move that, not surprisingly, has drawn sharp criticism from inmates. But the union that represents the state's corrections officers and other prison employees also has concerns about the ban, fearing how inmates could respond.
Lynne DeLano, assistant deputy secretary for Correctional Operations at the Department of Corrections (DOC), said the smoking policy has been in the works for the past four years and represents a national trend in the prison system. The state's newest prison, Stafford Creek Corrections Center, which began housing inmates in 2000, opened as Washington's first smoke-free prison.
"It's the right thing to do," said DeLano, who said the state hopes to save money on inmate health costs through the policy. "What a golden opportunity to kick the habit."
But Monroe inmate Gary Noble, a 53-year-old smoker who has spent most of the past 36 years behind bars, said Corrections officials are "not looking at the big picture."
"The nicotine is just like the television in here, it's a baby-sitter," Noble said. "People will just keep smoking in here, a pack of tobacco will sell for about $100."
The Monroe prison has held four smoking-cessation classes over the past six months, but fewer than 40 inmates attended, said Paul Leeberg, who is helping institute the policy at the Monroe prison. He said even fewer of the corrections officers and administrative staff have showed up for the one smoking-cessation session held for them.
Inmates caught smoking or possessing tobacco products after the smoking ban goes into effect will be cited with an internal infraction, DeLano said. Exceptions will be made for American Indians and other inmates who smoke while participating in religious ceremonies.
"Because it's not an illegal behavior on the outside we're going to have a graduated range of sanctions," said DeLano, adding that inmates caught trafficking tobacco could end up in solitary detention.
Twenty-one states, including Oregon and Idaho, ban cigarette use inside prisons. About two dozen more have partial smoking bans for inmates and prison staff, according to DeLano.
But DeLano is concerned the July 1 deadline set by Corrections will pass without any changes being instituted because the department is struggling to strike a compromise with Teamsters Local 117, the union that represents about 5,000 prison employees, including corrections officers.
Spencer Thal, attorney for Local 117, said corrections officers are concerned about inmates becoming violent when they are forced to quit smoking. The union is not opposed to prisons being smoke-free for inmates, he said, but the policy should be instituted slowly.
"We believe that when you make a change to a smoking policy that has been in place for so long there are legitimate safety and security concerns," Thal said.
He said there is not enough time between now and July 1 for the Teamsters and DOC to work out their differences, nor is it enough time for both officers and inmates to successfully kick their smoking habits.
"People usually don't succeed in quitting the first time," Thal said.
"We're not telling the staff they have to quit smoking," DeLano said "(What) we're saying is that you can't smoke at work."
Because negotiations with the Teamsters are continuing, DeLano said Corrections hasn't determined how it will deal with officers or other prison staff caught with tobacco or possessing tobacco products on prison grounds.
Kelly Maytum, a 26-year-old Monroe inmate from Seattle who is serving time for vehicle theft, burglary and possession of stolen property, said Corrections should expect "an uproar" from inmates who are forced to quit smoking.
"It's another way for them to control us," said Maytum, who smokes about 15 cigarettes per day. "People in here for life without (parole) shouldn't have to live without their smokes."
Sgt. R. McIntyre, who has spent the past decade working as a corrections officer at the Monroe prison, supports the smoking ban.
"In here you smoke because you're in their environment," said McIntyre, 38, a former smoker. "When I was a heavy smoker, I never smoked at home. But at work, everybody's smoking."
He said the smoking policy will save Corrections money. McIntyre, who supervises about 330 inmates and eight officers, said he can't count how many inmates he's seen taken to the hospital for respiratory problems caused by smoking.
McIntyre, who supervises the only nonsmoking housing in the prison's main reformatory, said there is always a waiting list for inmates who want to live in the 180-bed unit. He said the unit became nonsmoking about five years ago.
Last year, four corrections officers at the Washington Corrections Center in Shelton sued the Department of Corrections over their exposure to secondhand cigarette smoke. The case is set for trial in Thurston County Superior Court in November.
Noble, the Monroe inmate, who has smoked since he was 12, said he plans to quit smoking "cold-turkey" when the policy goes in to effect.
Nicotine patches already are available through the prison commissary for $13.81 per week. But, Noble said, inmates, who pay $1.12 for a package of loose tobacco which is enough for about 40 hand-rolled cigarettes, can't afford the patch.
"The way you quit is you take the cigarettes in your house and throw them away," Noble said.
In Oregon, which banned smoking from all prisons in 1996, tobacco soon became the contraband of choice, competing with the market for drugs. But prison officials in that state reasoned they'd rather have inmates trading in cigarettes than heroin.
DeLano agrees, saying the prisons now wage "a constant battle" keeping illegal drugs out of the hands of inmates.
When the state of Maryland enacted its prison-smoking ban in 2001, nearly all of the 1,200 inmates at one prison refused to leave their cells for meals or work assignments. The strike ended after a few days and there was no reported violence.
Both Noble and McIntyre think that not all Washington state inmates will comply with the ban.
Noble, who spent time in the King County Jail before he was convicted on a new charge of robbery in 2000, said he saw plenty of cigarette brokering there — even though smoking is illegal in most county jails in the state. He said he saw inmates charge fellow inmates $15 per cigarette.
"If there's a way to get it in, they will," McIntyre said. "It's just like drugs or anything else."
Jennifer Sullivan: 425-783-0604 or jensullivan@seattletimes.com
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