Freedom From Within Prison

By Florida Times-Union

The hardened men drifted through a misty rain into a small room, where they exchanged a common pleasantry.

“Boker tov.”

The Hebrew phrase for ‘good morning’ — pronounced boh-kehr tohv — is not something the killers, drug dealers and thieves commonly use around the tough cell blocks of Columbia Correctional Institution.

But in the prison’s chapel, the 17 men who came to learn and pray used the language comfortably. They gathered as part of a ministry led by a jovial, raspy-voiced rabbi fond of calling them “the guys.”

“I feel like here we really do get to connect to people,” said Rabbi Nochum Kurinsky, 29, who regularly leads the Chabad at the Beaches in Ponte Vedra Beach.

More than 1,800 weekly religious services and related activities cover 110 religious preferences throughout Florida’s prisons, officials said.

Inmates born Jewish or converted in prison can celebrate various Jewish observances, including holidays when they need to fast or stop work. For the Passover holiday, which starts tonight, they celebrate with two seders.

The group discussed the proper way to observe the holiday during the ministry three weeks ago. Kurinsky said the inmates can easily relate to Passover’s story of bondage and freedom for the Israelite slaves of Egypt.

“The truth is that they appreciate what freedom is in a way that we don’t,” he said.

An exodus for many in the group is years away. But not for David Powers, 47, finishing a 10-year sentence for grand theft.

“I get out in 24 days,” a smiling Powers said. Not only is he mentally ready, but “my stomach is, too,” Powers added.

Those with longer waits said they will continue counting on the monthly ministry to provide a sense of peace and purpose in an often volatile environment.

“You have to have something solid in here, and Judaism is very solid,” said Richard Logsdon, 42, serving a 15-year sentence for second-degree murder.

Calvin Cash, a 24-year-old Titusville native, grew up on some pretty tough streets and didn’t take the time to practice Judaism. But prison and the ministry has helped change that.

Cash taught himself Hebrew and has become fairly skilled in his prayers. He even added a self-inked “Jewish Pride” tattoo to the collection on his body.

“I kinda feel like I don’t fit in here, but I try and make it work,” said Cash, serving a 20-year sentence for trafficking cocaine.

Kurinsky, a rabbi for about seven years, has been involved in prison ministries in New York and Florida. Members of his congregation join him in visits to the Lake City facility, as well as Florida State Prison and Union Correctional Institution in Starke.

Kurinsky said he believes many of the inmates he works with are strongly committed to Judaism. He said he enjoys helping the men strengthen their commitments and has never been in fear.

“This is my mission in life,” he said.

Kurinsky said he also doesn’t sit in judgment of any inmate.

“Underneath, it’s just a guy who wants to be treated like a human being,” he said.

Shortly before the ministry ended, Kurinsky and two volunteers helped the inmates put on the tefillin.

The ceremony involves wrapping an arm and the head with leather straps that hold tiny boxes containing select Scripture. A prayer is then recited before the tefillin is unwrapped.

Some of the men, like Cash, nailed the ritual. Others got it with Kurinsky’s help.

As the men were leaving, they bid the rabbi farewell.

“You did a good job,” Kurinsky said.

“Thanks for coming,” they replied.

The guys walked back into what had become a pounding storm to face another tough day. Some smiled.