From the Petri Dish
The Cook County Jail In A Pandemic
04/14/20
by Diana Berek
A detainee holds up a heart symbol and a sign during a drive-by protest calling for a mass release of detainees at Cook County Jail, where an outbreak is escalating, on April 7, 2020. This photograph by Max Herman was originally published by The Chicago Reporter.
Chicago’s Cook County Jail is one of the nation’s largest pre-trial detention facilities. As of April 10th, 276 detainees had tested positive for COVID-19, two detainees had died, more than 14 have been hospitalized, and at least 115 staff are reported to have COVID-19. According to a New York Times report from April 8th, these sum up to the highest number of reported cases traced back to a single site.
Most of the jail’s over 5,000 detainees had not been tested prior to April 7th. Only the detainees exhibiting advanced symptoms were tested at the Cook County Cermak Health Services facility.This facility only obtained approval to start administering a rapid testing process on April 7th, so there is a high likelihood that there are far more undetected positive cases than the numbers above.
While this information is alarming and points to serious community public health risks, for me it has become the statistical background of alarm, worry and stress because for me it is als personal. Zachary Thomas, a handsome, soft-spoken 21-year-old, is my grandson. The following account documents his experiences in Cook County over the past month.On March 11th, Zach was arrested. The next day, he was transferred to the Cook County Jail, where he spent two weeks in the bullpen-style Intake Division, where social distancing was impossible, where soap was not available, hand washing sinks cannot be accessed, and where showers, bathrooms, telephones and common areas go uncleaned and unsanitized for extended periods.
On March 13th, the day after Zach was remanded to the jail, in response to growing community fears that COVID-19 would turn jails and prisons into petri dishes for the virus, Chief Judge Timothy Evans enacted Emergency Measures closing most court functions, which went into effect on March 17th. One attorney told me that he’s never seen anything like the disruption, confusion and clerical gridlock that ensued. “When the courts closed for just one day during the 2019 polar vortex, it took months to get it straightened out. This month long closure is going to be even worse —it will be a huge mess for a very long time.”
The close conditions of confinement in prisons make social distancing extremely difficult, if not impossible. There is no such thing as social distancing or the recommended 6 feet of space between people, because the jail is so overcrowded. Everyone is practically on top of each other, and still they’re bringing more people in, Zachary told us. No one has masks or disinfecting wipes and the soap is rationed. He said, the cleaning personnel said they don’t feel comfortable coming in to clean, so even the regular sanitation that is supposed to happen hasn’t been done. Yet, Sheriff Tom Dart’s office has continued to pack detainees into overcrowded units and Judge Evans has continued to put people in jail pre-trial during the coronavirus crisis.
On March 18, the Sheriff’s Office posted an update to their visitation policy. This is an excerpt of that notice:
“Since January 24, incoming detainees have been screened for flu-like symptoms. Last week, a series of additional measures – including the suspension of social visits for detainees and limiting outside visitors to essential volunteers, clergy and attorneys – were implemented to reduce the opportunity for the virus to enter the jail. Additionally, all visitors to the jail must pass a screening for COVID-19 symptoms or exposure prior to entry.
Beginning last week, all incoming detainees have been housed in specially designated receiving tiers where they are observed by Cermak and DOC staff for 7 days for any symptoms of COVID-19 before being transferred to general population.Cleaning regimens have increased throughout all areas of the jail, and detainees are being educated regarding preventative hygiene and are urged to report the presence of symptoms of the virus in themselves or others.
All DOC employees receive daily reminders on preventative measures recommended by the CDC and other health agencies. All DOC staff have been instructed to notify their supervisors immediately if they experience flu-like symptoms at work, and to stay home and seek medical attention if they experience them while off-duty. Staff who show flu-like symptoms must be medically cleared prior to returning to work. The health and safety of staff, detainees, and the general public continue to be the primary concern of the Sheriff’s Office.”
But the reality was different. By March 26th, tensions were high. Zachary said that a female Corrections Officer (CO) came in at 1 am, awakening them by yelling and hitting detainees with her radio. She was pulling their bed covers and blankets off of them, moving the bunk beds around; screaming to “get the fuck up.” Then, because they were too groggy and slow, she threatened them with the “cavalry.” Within a short time, the “cavalry” arrived with a sergeant who came in smelling of vodka. The sergeant maced a couple of detainees and later refused medical attention to the ones he had hurt. The other detainees helped those who were maced. The detainees asked for a grievance paper to which the sergeant responded, “fuck y’all and them grievance papers!” And then he left. The next day, they learned that 17 detainees had been diagnosed with COVID-19.
The detainees who had tested positive were in the tier next to Zach’s. Several detainees from his tier were then sent there to clean up after the sick detainees. When they returned, the detainees in Zach’s tier feared those men had been exposed to the virus and brought it back to them. Zachary spoke to the nurse to tell her that he had asthma and had a history of susceptibility to bronchitis, knowing that the virus is more dangerous to people with respiratory conditions. He told her he’d been having headaches and often felt dizzy, but the nurse dismissed his concerns, telling him that his were ‘'outside problems and needed to be left outside.” He didn’t know what she meant by that, but he recognized it as her manner of dismissing his concern. A social worker finally came to drop off trust fund receipts for the commissary that Zach had ordered, been charged for, but never received in those first 10 days. She left so quickly that she failed to leave behind the stamps and envelopes that he and other detainees had requested. She seemed scared that the prisoners had been exposed to COVID-19.
On March 27th, Zach was transferred again, this time to a formerly unused section of Division 5. He says there is no clean water at all — the water is brown, the place is dirty and infested with roaches. He’s not been allowed to leave his cell even to make a phone call. Another detainee who has been allowed to leave his cell made a call to Zachary’s mom, and she could hear Zachary in the background yelling out the message that he’d been moved and was being isolated in this dirty cell with brown water. Again, it seems like no one is delivering their food or clothing. He feels like they’ve stuck him there and he is afraid he will be forgotten. He wanted his mom to know that he was still alive and that he was feeling abandoned. He and the other men in Division 5 were all pre-trial detainees. Meanwhile, on March 27, a total of 38 detainees had tested positive. That evening, a CO came in to tell them that there was no dinner left for them that night, and that they could not get commissary. He said he was sorry for them, then he laughed and left.
Two days later, Zachary told us that he was now working as a food server. The staff were afraid to enter their tier to deliver food. He was also performing some cleaning duties. However, he was beginning to feel sick. He was coughing and said his forehead felt warm but he didn’t know whether he had a fever. He said he couldn't get a medical request form to see the nurse again. He was afraid that he that he had contracted the virus.
His cell was very cold at night, he said, and he was getting the chills. He told us he had a cough and nasal congestion. It was then April 3rd. He had finally been able to see a nurse and told her about how cold it is there at night, and that he had chills, but she told him “That’s a DOC (Department of Corrections) problem.” Zach told us there were others there who were sick and coughing. He thought that maybe his cough was due to his allergy to the mold in the unit. He said he could still smell and taste, and he had no pain in his chest or his stomach. He didn’t want to believe that he may be positive for COVID-19. But he did have headaches, he felt dizzy or “woozy;” he had congestion and a bad cough, and he couldn’t get any medication from the jail healthcare for those symptoms. He said he was washing his hands frequently and he finally had access to soap and water, even though it was still the brown, rusty water. In fact, he said he was washing his hands so often that they are getting very dry, raw and chapped. Since he had no access to lotion, he used whatever grease or fat that came in his meals to rub into his hands. He said it was gross but it helped. He was trying to stay calm, but said it was hard because so many of the detainees and staff were so scared of getting COVID-19. As of April 3rd, a total of 210 detainees at Cook County Jail had tested positive and 14 had been hospitalized. Additionally, 60 staff also tested positive. The first two cases had been announced on March 23rd, only 11 days before. The exponential increase had everyone tense and frightened.
By April 5th, Zach really did feel that he was sick. He said his chest hurt when he coughed. He told the nurse and she gave him two Tylenols. He wished they could have some kind of masks, but they were not allowed to have them, and couldn’t rig up any version of a mask. It would be considered contraband and they’d get in trouble for it.
That night, a detainee from his unit was taken to the medical wing with a high fever. On April 8th, another detainee had developed high fever and transferred to Cermak Health Services or to Stroger Hospital. That detainee, whose fever was at 105, was someone Zachary had been in close contact with. The unit was now getting their temperatures taken once a day in the mornings. Zachary’s temperature was up to 99.8. He said the whole unit was now on a 30-day quarantine. They were all feeling panicky, and were afraid that, if they got COVID-19, the Sheriff and the jail officials wouldn’t release them, or get them the care they needed, because even though they are pre-trial detainees, they were still in jail and presumed to be "dangerous criminals."
He doesn’t want to die in jail. He doesn’t want to die accused of something before he’s had the chance to prove he is innocent. He doesn't want to be remembered that way. He is 21 years old.
The next morning, April 9th, Zachary was taken to the medical unit. He was tested and transferred to an isolation division, awaiting the results of the test. He planned the staff that he wanted to sign a release of information, so that they could tell his mom and me about his health status. He said the unit is not clean and he wanted us to tell everyone not to believe what Sheriff Dart says about the jail being safe and clean. “Sheriff Dart is lying,” he said. Meanwhile, on the larger front, we had heard about the Mays v. Dart lawsuit. Federal District Judge Matthew Kennelly rejected the plaintiff’s request to immediately release all medically vulnerable Cook County Jail detainees to prevent COVID-19 casualties. However, the judge also rejected Dart's assertion that he was providing for the detainees’ safety.The judge ordered the Sheriff to stop the policy of putting all new detainees into bullpens where the infection easily spreads.
Later on April 9th, Zachary learned that he had tested positive. He was then one of the 276 detainees who had tested positive for the virus. By the time of this writing, April 13th, a total of 476 detainees and staff have tested positive, and a third detainee has died. As I said before, the statistics are alarming, but each of those cases is a person, with a family. For us, one of these families, this is deeply personal and we are terrified.
Editor’s note: Zachary Thomas has confirmed that he would like his name disclosed, and confirms the veracity of this account.
I ask those reading to please call their elected officials to complain about these conditions and demand that the detainees be released (to house arrest if necessary), and that their conditions be humane and their basic civil and human rights be respected. Here is a list of some numbers that you can call right away.
Illinois Governor J. B. Pritzker: (312) 814-2121
Cook County Sheriff Tom Dart: (312) 603-6444
Cook County Chief Judge Timothy Evans: (312) 603-6000
Illinois State’s Attorney Kim Foxx: (312) 602-1880
Other resources you can use to call for change include those listed in Mairead Case’s contribution to Quarantine Times in March. Mairead closes by reminding us, “Even something as simple as signing a petition or donating $5 matters, a lot.”
Here are some suggestions of ways to act, and help:
IDOC (Illinois adult prisons) demands & actions
IDJJ (Illinois youth prisons) demands & actions
JTDC (Illinois youth jail) demands & actions
Cook County Jail (adult jail) demands & actions
ICE enforcement & immigration detention action
Also recommended:
Listening to "How to Fight Facism While Surviving a Plague" by Kelly Hayes
Finding a pen pal through SWOP or Black and Pink
And further reading recommendations:
chicagoreporter.com/illinois-prisons-and-rural
truthout.org/articles/covid-19-is-turning-prisons-into-kill-boxes-activists-say
“As of April 6, 2020, the infection rate in Cook County was 1.56 per 1,000, whereas in the Jail, it was 50 per 1,000 people. The disparity between these rates tends to support the contention that the conditions at the Jail facilitate the spread of corona virus and exacerbate the risk of infection for the detainees.” Mays v. Dart, Case #20 C 2134 US District Court
Diana Berek is a Rogers Park resident, a painter and fabric artist, and a member of a collective engaged in political, social, and economic liberation from capitalism and colonialism.
