Growing old behind bars

CAPRON — Winter sunshine slices through a narrow security window and falls on Aloysius Joseph Beyrer's white hair, slight shoulders and the linen covering his fractured hip.

Like the rest of the country, Virginia is coping with a growing number of aging inmates. Beyrer, 84, is the state's oldest and his home, the Deerfield Correctional Center, focuses on geriatric inmates.

In 1999, Virginia had 2,015 prisoners 50 or older. Today, there are almost 4,700, and by 2011, state officials expect there to be 5,057.

A drop in the number of paroles granted to inmates who remain eligible is a factor in Virginia's increasing number of older inmates. Truth-in-sentencing reforms that in 1995 led to stiffer, no-parole sentences for violent crimes are expected to contribute to Virginia's aging prison population in coming years.

At Deerfield, wheelchairs and walkers line aisles in the secured assisted-living dormitory, where it would be easy to confuse the frail residents with those in nursing homes. But it would be a mistake to do so.

Beyrer, a veteran of prisons in Virginia and elsewhere, thinks Deerfield, "is pretty good," though security comes first there, even for octogenarians like Beyrer, who is serving 100 years for sex crimes. The prison's goal is to provide older inmates care and some dignity, not freedom.

The warden, Keith W. Davis, makes it clear he is not running a spa for the golden years.

Even with a blank check to meet all their medical and mental-health needs, Davis said no one wants to grow old or die in a prison.

Deerfield provides a continuing-care community, he said, "so they can reach what we believe is their fullest potential — body, mind and soul."

Experts say substance abuse, little or no health care before imprisonment and the stress of living behind bars can leave a 50-year-old inmate physiologically 10 to 15 years older than his chronological age. In general, older inmates require more supervision and medical and mental-health care, as well as special diets, mobility aids and special housing.

Deerfield, Virginia's only prison dedicated to geriatric inmates and inmates with special medical needs, accommodates 1,080 inmates, 90 of them in wheelchairs and 65 percent over the age of 50. Other older inmates and older female inmates are in prisons such as the Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women and the Greensville and Powhatan correctional centers.

Critics point out that many older inmates are far less likely to commit new crimes and could be released at great savings. Prison officials, however, believe their care would largely be at public expense in or out of prison. And though older people are less likely to commit crimes, some still do. Beyrer was 67 when he was convicted in Virginia Beach of statutory rape, aggravated sexual battery and forcible sodomy.

Deerfield's head nurse, Bonita Badgett, said 800 of the inmates there have at least one chronic medical condition such as diabetes, high blood pressure or asthma. The prison psychiatrist, Dr. Amit Shah, said the major problem he treats is depression.

In October alone, the prison handled 5,200 prescriptions.

Badgett has a staff of 14 registered nurses, 25 licensed practical nurses and 21 nursing assistants. Two physicians are at the prison three days a week and the psychiatrist visits once a week. At least one registered nurse is on hand at all times.

Deerfield was selected 10 years ago as the site for older offenders. An expansion opened in 2007 and there is now an 18-bed infirmary, a 57-bed assisted-living dorm, a larger ancillary-care dorm, a dorm for diabetics and a dorm for other special-needs inmates.

More than 75 percent of Deerfield's prisoners have violent records and nearly 30 percent are sex offenders.

Officers must be sensitive to prisoners who are gravely ill, suffering a heart attack or a stroke, "…but not be deceived by someone who is faking to get an advantage to facilitate an escape," said Maj. Stanley Mayes, chief of security for the prison.

Not everyone at Deerfield is happy. More than 200 inmates signed a letter to Gov. Timothy M. Kaine last year complaining about the parole board's low grant rate. One inmate claims staff stole his pain medication as he recovered from an injury.

Parole issues aside, inmates interviewed during a recent tour said they liked Deerfield.

One problem at the facility is that a lot of the guys have outlived their families. If they were to be released, where would they go?

Sex offenders, particularly, are difficult to place. Most nursing homes do not want them, and families often reject them because of their crimes, or, "the families simply cannot take care of the needs and medications."

At Deerfield, younger and healthier inmates — dubbed "pushers," short for wheelchair pushers — assist the older inmates and perform a wide variety of essential jobs for 45 cents an hour, primarily janitorial and in health care, that help keep the prison running.

One "pusher," James Lee Wainwright, 47, imprisoned in 1990 for armed robbery, helps in the infirmary. William Robison, chief psychologist at Deerfield, said some inmate helpers perform odious jobs, peculiar to hospitals and rest homes, for infirm inmates. A program has been set up to help the helpers, Robison said.

"The caregivers support group is . . . for guys who are caring for other guys here. You know, if that isn't therapeutic education, what the hell is?" Robison asked.

"It's a little different here, the way we even think of mental health. We try and redeem a guy."

Said Robinson: "What we do is to find them a purposefulness in living in prison and maybe dying in here." He is familiar with programs in other states and said, "I think we're light years ahead."

"We're not soft on crime. Tough love 'em, and they could still die here with some atonement . . . with a sense of humanity and self worth."

Frank Green is a staff writer at Media General’s Richmond Times-Dispatch.