I left prison with the determination to make good. Association and correspondence with my two friends had brought to me the full realization of the folly of the other life. As the doors of the prison closed after me, and I stood upon the threshold of the new life, a feeling came over me that is difficult to describe in mere words.

It was my first glimpse of the outside world in over seven years. During that time the range of my vision had been narrowed by huge walls of stone. My eyes were unaccustomed to a broader landscape. As I stood on the steps of the prison for a moment, breathing in the atmosphere of an early June morning, the thought came to me that it was a pretty good world to live in, after all.In the city of my confinement an association devoted to the interests of the discharged prisoner kept a “home.” In this “home” the discharged prisoner could find food and shelter until able to procure work. On the eventful morning of my release from prison, as I walked toward this “home,” my whole being was a-tingle with the gladness of the day. Here I was, a free man after a confinement of weary years. Can you imagine how happy I was? The activities of the city’s streets bewildered me. I felt lost somehow, an atom as it were, in the life of the big world. I was struck by the great change in the dress of women. All about me seemed new. I walked, and walked, and walked still further until my feet were blistered with walking. A peculiarity of the discharged prisoner is the fact that he either walks or talks until almost exhausted, immediately upon his release.

In this age of progress much happens in a space of seven years. You must remember that I was as absolutely cut away from the world as if I had been in some distant planet, receiving the news of the world through the columns of an aerial press.

I stayed for about five weeks in this “home.” While I found a sincere desire on the part of the officials to make one at home, the place itself was too much institutionalized for them to succeed. That to me is the fault of the “homes” devoted to the interests of the discharged prisoner. The man coming out of prison should be made to forget such a thing as an institution. To step out of a place where rule and routine are the fundamentals, and enter again into the same environment under the guise of a “home” is a discouraging feature to the man bent on turning over a new leaf. Of course I realize that in such a place, devoted to such a work, certain rules and regulations are necessary. But they should be as few as is consistent with a proper maintenance of discipline.

As a matter of fact this “home” idea, to my mind at least, is not such a potent factor in the reformation of the prisoner as some believe it. In the first place, only a certain type of discharged prisoner cares to enter such a home. No matter where the home is situated it soon becomes known for what it really is. Neighbors look upon the men residing there either pityingly or with contempt. It advertises the “past” of the man, and no sensitive man desirous of regenerating himself, cares to have the fact of his former delinquency become household knowledge.

Another factor against the “home” is this, that it gathers together a group of men of known criminal tendencies. Each man is making the fight for himself. There come moments of despondency and gloom. In that moment a suggestion of another in the same frame of mind may precipitate the fall of both. Instead of only one falling there may be more.

Folks will call this a destructive criticism, yet I do not mean it so. In place of the “homes” as at present conducted, I would place the discharged prisoners in private homes. Surely, there are people big enough, and with mind broad enough to give the man a chance? The associations would find little trouble in finding such homes. Of course I realize that there is a certain type of man to whom the “home” as at present conducted is the ideal thing. But for the majority I would suggest my private-family idea. The discharged prisoner makes an almost hopeless fight for regeneration unless he has a friend of the Big Brother type to fall back on in times of despondency and gloom. In the private family he would have the advice and counsel of a friend. In the environment, colored by love, he would get glimpses of the happiness to be derived from an honest life. All this would be as a spur to his endeavors, for the thing the prisoner needs most of all is simply friendship. It must be friendship that is active and optimistic, a friendship that is not discouraged by an occasional failure. If the ex-prisoner can get this on leaving prison, his chances for making good are increased a hundredfold.