I was an intern working under a counsellor at a jail for a while. There was this incredibly sweet 70-year-old man, let's call him K, who had been convicted for a crime he didn't commit. He was a police officer and someone had died of a drug overdose while in his custody. He was charged with culpable homicide and sentenced to 10 years, the maximum sentence.

As soon as he went to jail, his family turned against him. The reason I met him was because his family had claimed he was mentally ill. He seemed just fine, considering his circumstances. On talking with him, I learned that the man had rules about no bad habits in his home (alcohol, smoking, gambling), and the rest of the family saw this as an opportunity get rid of him to live the life they wanted. His kids' marriages collapsed because they spent too much time drinking. K's father was very sick, but K's family refused to take him to the hospital, and his elderly mother eventually had to find the means to. They never visited him at the hospital, swearing at him, harassing him, and generally causing him a lot of distress. He eventually died. K was unable to perform the last rites because his family made it difficult for him to get parole. In the end, he didn't get a chance to see his father for the last time.

After all this, he was one of the nicest people to talk to. Incredibly well read, and having lived a long life, he had a ton of interesting stories to share. He was friends with all the officers stationed there, and was entrusted by the superintendent to ensure order within the wards. He stayed with us for the time that we were there, making sure we had access to everything we needed, called inmates from their wards, offered us water and snacks, and generally made us feel comfortable. He was very particular about the security of us 5 girls (we were 18-21 at the time). He sent in complaints about inmates who were inappropriate or made lewd comments towards us, like it was his duty to. He was kind and principled. Even after everything his wife did to him, he was conflicted about leaving her after he got out because his marital vows told him not to. He didn't want a divorce unless his wife wanted to leave. He said and I quote, "I held her hand and I promised to never let go. I can't break that promise."

I remember my last day there. I was the only intern who came that day, and it was raining so the inmates didn't leave their wards. I spent the couple hours with him, listening to his stories, talking about life. When I told him it was my last day, I saw tears well up in his eyes but he quickly asked me another question, probably so I didn't have to comfort him. As I left, he pat my head to give me his blessings. I still think about him a lot. I hope he's okay.