In a surprise pre-dawn prison takeover shortly after 4 a.m. on February 9, heavily-armed officers of the Special Operations Group (SOG) of the Department of Corrections, along with Maine State Police, rounded up the four guards and cook who were working at the Downeast Correctional Facility in Machiasport, took them to a holding area and relieved them of their duties. They then roused the inmates who were sleeping in the unlocked, dorm-like rooms of the minimum-security prison, handcuffed them and put them aboard buses to take them to the Charleston Correctional Facility. The armed officers with guard dogs also picked up inmates who were working at Maine Wild Blueberry Company in Machias, which then had to temporarily shut down, as did BBS Lobster Trap in Machiasport, where inmates also worked.
     While government officials debate the right and wrong of Governor LePage's decision to suddenly close the prison, families are left wondering how they will live, a community is left with an empty facility and the county is faced with another problem to add to an already long list of challenges.

A look at the numbers
     "The way the dedicated state employees have been treated is deplorable," says Machias Town Manager Christina Therrien. "I think it is a very disturbing action on the part of our governor to ignore the opinions and recommendations of our senators and representatives that have studied the issue and determined that the facility was doing a great job of fulfilling the Department of Corrections' mission so successfully."
     Therrien believes if people were to just look at the numbers then there would be more understanding and support for a valuable county asset. "The costs the governor quotes for operations are misrepresented due to his unwillingness to use the facility to its full potential," says Therrien. "Of course the cost ratio is out of whack when you only put 60 prisoners in a facility designed for 150. The fact that they want to sink $147 million into another prison in Maine to create bed space for what they just eliminated Downeast makes no sense. Why not put $30 million into DCF and save the taxpayers a boatload of money?"
     Selectman Brian Smith of Machiasport knows the closure will impact the town's residents and will be a burden to many others living in Washington County. "The closure of this facility will impact the town just in labor alone of approximately $100,000 a year," says Smith. "The services the inmate workers provided centered on the fire department, road and equipment maintenance. This is a very big hit to the town, with literally no time to prepare."
     It was just last June when pink slips were handed out by the governor's office looking to close the facility. But again, people spoke up, the legislature went into high gear and the facility received a reprieve with its budget approved until June of 2018. In early February a bill presented by Rep. Will Tuell of East Machias received overwhelming committee support, and the legislature was on schedule to vote for further funding through 2019.
     "We have been dealing with this for a long time," says Smith. "Now that it has happened we need to figure out what can be done to minimize any further damage to the town." The town is participating in legal action in conjunction with the Washington County commissioners to slow down the closure process and prevent any actions moving forward to the detriment of the town and the facility.

A unique facility that works by giving back
     "This is not your typical prison environment. Most of us take ownership in our job, in this facility and in the people who serve out sentences here," says Steve Pressley II of Whiting, who has worked as a guard at DCF for 13 years.
     Pressley was scheduled for duty the morning of the closure but logged more hours earlier that week due to lack of staffing. "I was told by others there that night that this SOG unit arrived heavily armed and with dogs. The DCF personnel were then taken to a holding area, were told nothing, to remain quiet and listen to the orders as they were given," Pressley says.
     A father of twin daughters now in high school, Pressley recently lost his wife to cancer in 2016. "At this point I am not sure what to think or what to do. I am shell‑shocked. It is a waiting game, as I am not sure if I should look for a job, wait to see what happens, but more importantly, what to tell my daughters."
     When asked about the impact closing this facility will have on the area, Pressley declines to speculate, waiting to see what happens, and then adds, "I had a 30-year‑old inmate sit down with me one evening, telling me it was not until he came here to this facility and was on work release that he found out he could work and keep a job." When asked if that happens often, Pressley answers, "All the time."
     Pressley was at the State House in Augusta on Tuesday, February 13, along with other DCF employees to talk on their own time about the governor's closure of the prison, but he was unable to stay the following day. "My insurance runs out on March 14, and I have a heart condition, so I needed to get back and not miss my medical appointment." But others did stay and talked about how the closure will impact them.
     A corrections officer for 20 years, Brian Mosley of Pembroke says of the closure, "It was very wrong. Governor LePage is misinformed at best. It's a facility that should be a model for the rest of the state." He explains that the lack of bars and cages is a part of teaching inmates how to reenter society. "They're learning how to get up in the morning. Some of them had never learned that. They go to work for eight- to 10-hour shifts. They do that every day." He adds, "It's true rehabilitation. It's true corrections."
     Having family roots in the county that go back to the Battle of the Margaretta, Chris Sprague of Marshfield has spent six years teaching carpentry and as a grievance officer at the facility. Teaching inmates carpentry skills that allowed them to contribute to many countywide projects, including making toys for the local Christmas gifts program for children, Sprague speaks more to the inmates and community than his own worries. "What we did down there was a good thing. It's a good size for what we do, and it works well for the inmates and the community."

Businesses unsure of where to go next
     "We are saddened for the loss of careers at DCF," says David Whitney, owner of Whitney Wreath, based in Whitneyville. "The loss of 38 careers in Washington County is equivalent to the loss of 600 jobs in Cumberland County."
     "We use the worker-release program during the labor pinch of Christmas season," says Whitney. The company employs over 400 workers, 15 of whom are from the work-release program. "All work-release employees apply and interview to work for us. They are paid at the position rate, which is above minimum wage, if hourly."
     David Bell, general manager of Maine Wild Blueberry in Machias, is stymied by how the closure all went down and, more importantly, how the company will respond to meet production targets. "We were utilizing the work-release program with DCF for the past three years, and it has been a real successful partnership. It allowed us to operate two shifts, but as of now with what recently transpired, our production output has been cut in half."
     Without any time to prepare, Bell notes the company is doing all it can to quickly fill positions and get the second shift back into operation. "To a degree, the surge of news about what happened helped. We are having more people show up about jobs," says Bell. "Of course we are still running ads and recruiting people as we can, but it's been tough."
     "We currently have two people employed full-time who started working for us through the work-release program. One is a supervisor and the other is a skill-level worker," says Bell. "If someone were to really look at what was created through this partnership of government and business working together, they would see it works and is beneficial for everyone involved."
Inmates and community working together
     For Brandon Hafford, the time spent at DCF saved his life. "The work-release program changed my whole life. If I went back to Presque Isle there is no doubt in my mind I wouldn't have been strong enough to change. The fact that DCF allowed me to work and achieve a full-time job saved my life." Hafford was the first work-release inmate to be placed at the Lobster Trap Company, a wholesale seafood distributor in Bucks Harbor.
     Working at the company for just over a year, Hafford was released from DCF and was then hired by Lobster Trap. "After a few months of working, I started to really enjoy the community. Everyone was so welcoming even knowing I was incarcerated," says Hafford. "I worked there for three years, and over that time it gave me confidence, and I found that I loved working in the fishing community."
     Now living in Cutler, Hafford says the Downeast community has fully accepted him and helped him along the way. "After a year of working for Frank Coffin lobster fishing, I was welcomed into the Cutler community," he says. "I now go lobster fishing full-time right down the road from home. Along the way I met an amazing woman, we are now engaged and have three beautiful children."
"What the governor did was wrong," says Brandon Summerson. An inmate at DCF for three years, Summerson received support and training during the time he was there. "If it was not for the work-release program I would not have gotten out with my head straight."
     Summerson, now living and fishing in Cutler, cites the community and the people he was around inside are still supportive. "I see guards and workers from the prison all the time around town, and they always say hello and ask how I am doing. They care about how we are doing after we get out."
And for Patrick Morency, the five years spent at DCF were special, and he finds it tough to talk about sometimes. "I am getting emotional thinking about all of this, and I don't even live here," says Morency. A Cape Cod native, he found comfort in the work-release program. "I was probably the last inmate involved in the marine upholstery training at the facility. It ended when the person teaching it retired from DCF." Today, he works at a marine canvas shop in Cape Cod.
     Now concerned about those people who will not have the same opportunity he was given, Morency reflects, "You know, there are people inside who simply want to do their time. I get that, but there are many more looking to learn from their mistakes and learn something they can take with them when they leave. This place did that for me."
     While the debate lingers in Augusta through legislative process and procedures on the plight of DCF, local opinion and discussions are growing louder in support of DCF and spreading like wildfire via social media in a grassroots effort to save the facility from permanent closure. Save Downeast Correctional Facility is a Facebook page created just after the February 9 closure and as of February 20 had garnered over 3,500 followers. The content of the page includes posts from employees, former inmates, legislative representatives and community members sharing their thoughts on the situation.