Real Story

When the Prison Society arranged for Gale Gordon to “see” her incarcerated son for the first time in three years, “tears rolled down my face,” she said, describing their video call via Zoom. “I could see him physically. I could see his whole body. 

“It brings a lot of joy to my heart,” she said. “It was fantastic.”

Gale connected with her son, incarcerated at the state prison SCI Forest, after contacting the Prison Society’s Helpline. 

The Helpline is a free service that provides essential assistance each year to thousands of individuals and their incarcerated loved ones. Questions range from specific concerns about a loved one (“My son hasn’t had access to his insulin since transferring facilities”) to general questions like Gale’s about how to stay in touch. 

Gale already knew about the Prison Society, but she was unaware that Helpline services had expanded during the pandemic. Decades earlier, during a previous prison term, Gale rode Prison Society buses to visit him at SCI Dallas. 

“I could talk to him and hug him,” she said. “When you give your kid a hug, you can feel the anxiety in them. You can feel what is right and wrong. I can feel that in my soul and in my body down to my toes. 

The in-person connection was a comfort for both of them. “That hug meant the world to me. You can hug him and squeeze him and feel that everything is going to be alright, like he is a baby again,” Gale said

This time, though, she can’t visit him.

Gale lives in South Philadelphia. SCI Forest is 311 miles away, almost all the way to Erie, and a five-and-a-half-hour drive – if Gale had a car. Even if she did, she couldn’t drive it, because she is nearly blind in one eye.

The Pennsylvania’s Department of Corrections used to fund the Prison Society’s family bus transportation program Gale once relied on, but it was suspended during the pandemic. The Prison Society is working to restore full funding for the program, hoping to build on the success of the current six-month pilot that restarted bus trips to two other state prisons, SCI Mahanoy and SCI Greene. 

“We would hope SCI Forest would be part of an expansion,” said Kirstin Cornnell, the Prison Society’s family and community support director.

That would be good news for Gale. Meanwhile, she’s grateful that the Prison Society helped her connect with her son via Zoom. 

When Christopher suggested it, Gale was daunted by the technology.  

“I’m not computerized,” Gale said, laughing. “I can barely text.”

Still, heeding her son’s advice, Gale made her way to the Prison Society’s office and met a Helpline staffer. The staffer unsnarled a bureaucratic tangle in the Department of Corrections’ computer system and scheduled an appointment for the Zoom call. Then, she set Gale up on the big-screen television in the Prison Society’s conference room and launched the call for her. But it wasn’t just the technological help that made the difference for Gale. In the staffer, Gale found a friend – someone who cared about her and her son and the love they shared.  

“On the big screen TV, I can see the prison, the guards and everything,” Gale said. “I sleep well now. I can see him -- that he’s not beat up, he’s not being hurt.”

These days, Gale makes regular visits to the Prison Society’s office so she can visit her son via Zoom. Now, she tells all her friends and neighbors about the Prison Society’s Helpline, in case it can help them like it helped her. 

“You can talk to somebody, and they help you,” she said she tells them.

The Prison Society “means everything to me,” Gale said. “It’s a great organization and they need more of it. It needs to be nationwide.”