Our dad worked at California Institution for Men (Chino prison) for many years. He started off as a prison guard, and he had to count the men in their beds to make sure they were present. Hence the part of the memoir title about bed-counts. In his memoir, Bombs, Betty and Bed-counts, he tells of the time he omitted to “see flesh” when he  counted a rolled-up mass of blankets in a bunk. This error earned him a severe “mastication of the posterior” from his supervisor. In spite of this, he managed to keep his job long enough to be promoted out of the “guidance center” (see the photo) Mac in guidance ctrto the warehouse where he worked as a procurement officer. Other colorful and amusing tales about working in prison can be found in his memoir, available at the link below, in paperback and Kindle version.  Order here

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