The media often dramatizes prison life, borrowing scenes from Hollywood movies to depict well-known white-collar offenders in orange jumpsuits behind bars in dimly-lit cells. Writers rely on outdated portrayals of hardened criminals in chains working to smuggle cigarettes or make toilet wine. However, daily life for the former business leaders, politicians, and medical professionals incarcerated in the minimum-security federal prison camp in Miami is quite a bit different. I should know – I’ve been there.
I earned my place at the federal prison camp in Miami by engaging in wire fraud relating to the sale of life insurance policies. It was a real shock when the feds showed up at my door years after I had retired from the business, and was even more jarring when I received the maximum penalty at sentencing: 60 months in prison.
I had expected a more lenient sentence, but even then, the judge had another surprise in store for me. As I shared on the Nightmare Success Podcast with Brent Cassity, the judge felt it best to remand me directly into custody, denying the month or two white collar offenders are typically given to prepare. Instead, I was thrown directly into the deep-end.
When a person is remanded into custody like I was, they enter transit which is not exactly a smooth ride: I went from the Philadelphia detention center, where I spent my first six weeks, to Petersburg, Virginia, to Atlanta USP, to Tallahassee, all higher-security facilities that are like the facilities shown in movies. While in transit, I had my legs shackled and I experienced what’s known as “restricted movement,” where you can only move during certain times and guards are more-frequently performing “count.” This is known as “diesel therapy”, moving from one prison to another on buses.
I eventually made my way to the minimum-security federal prison camp in Miami after a long two weeks, which at that point I had envisioned to be like an oasis in the desert.
The truth is, it was a mixed bag.
After arriving at the minimum-security camp in Miami, the first thing that struck me was the remarkable – but relative – freedom of movement. The contrast with the restrictive environments of higher-security facilities where I had spent the previous weeks was stark.
At the minimum-security federal prison camp, I could move freely from the bunk area to various parts of the campus, such as the outdoor pavilion, the walking track, and the library, all at my own discretion. The only requirement was to be back at my bunk for the 4:00 PM and 9:00 PM stand-up counts.
After enduring some of the worst facilities in the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) system during transit, this newfound freedom was nothing short of liberating. The ability to navigate the camp with such autonomy made the adjustment to prison life significantly more manageable and provided a semblance of normalcy amidst the broader constraints of incarceration.
Daily Routine in a Minimum-Security Federal Prison Camp
Once I got to Miami, it was time to figure out my daily routine. Core tenets of anyone’s time in a minimum-security camp include rehabilitative programming, such as the Residential Drug Abuse Program (RDAP), camp employment, and free time.
In time, I found a routine that worked well for me. I was always the first person awake in my unit, usually by 4:30 AM. I waited until the 5:00 AM count cleared and then I was off to an exercise bike which was outside under the pavilion. I would usually ride and watch the news until about 7:30 AM when I would need to shower and report to the Residential Drug Abuse Programming (RDAP) each day until lunch.
After lunch, I would usually watch the news until the 4:00 PM count which was followed by dinner.
And with what’s left over, there’s free time. For me, that meant I would walk the track with other inmates. You really don’t forge friendships in prison.
And then it began again the next day, much like Groundhog Day.
Establishing a routine was so important for my well-being and is crucial for any successful period of incarceration. Having structure made my time at FCI Miami not only bearable but also productive. I always tell people who are about to go away that finding and sticking to a routine is the biggest key to successfully navigating their time in prison.
The Minimum-Security Population is Not What You Might Expect
The biggest surprise in those first few days at the federal prison camp in Miami was the diversity of the people I met. If you listen to the media, you would think these camps are filled primarily with business leaders, politicians, medical professionals, and other white-collar offenders, the same types of individuals I now consult with. I personally expected the population to be about 80% white-collar offenders, with the remainder being non-violent drug offenders or those who had earned their way down from higher-security facilities. However, this wasn’t – and isn’t – the case, especially at Miami.
The incarcerated population was heavily influenced by the fact the facility is the closest to Puerto Rico, resulting in a majority of younger, Hispanic inmates who were typically serving sentences for non-violent drug offenses. The demographics weren’t a problem, even in an environment that has a reputation for being dominated by race politics, but it did create a cultural dynamic that required adjustment, and certainly is a sharp contrast with the stereotypical image of white-collar incarceration.
Camp in Miami is Nothing Like the Photos
Another surprise about life at the federal prison camp in Miami was how it didn’t live up to the idyllic image portrayed by the Bureau of Prisons. The BOP’s website shows beautiful pictures with palm trees and blue skies, giving the impression of a relatively pleasant environment. The reality, however, is quite different.
The Miami camp is notably old and lacks basic amenities. Inmates are crammed into four dorms, each constantly near its capacity of 80 individuals per building. The air conditioning and hot water heaters will often break down leaving inmates to have to rely on large fans for cooling. They removed all of the free weights as inmates were hiding contraband under the mats.
Although the camp makes some efforts to provide comfort, such as specific housing for older inmates, it remains a rough, dirty, and challenging environment. The stark contrast between the promotional images and the actual conditions is a significant revelation for anyone who walks through those doors.
That being said, at least the facility isn’t in a place where the incarcerated have to shovel snow all winter, like many other camps.
Minimum-Security Prison is the Best Prison, but It’s Still Prison
The key takeaway from my time at FCI Miami is that all of these experiences are relative: the conditions at the Miami federal prison camp are significantly better than those in low or medium security facilities. Inmates in these higher-security prisons would likely jump at the chance to endure downsides of camp life in Miami for a chance at more freedom and better weather.
However, for many who end up in a camp, especially white-collar offenders, there’s a lot to adjust to and figure out. The facility is old, crowded, and lacks many basic amenities, challenging any preconceptions about a comfortable “club fed” stay.
Navigating these adjustments was a significant part of my journey and inspired me to become a federal prison consultant. These days, I help white-collar offenders prepare for federal incarceration, providing them with the tools and knowledge to manage their time effectively and make the best out of a challenging situation.
By sharing my experiences and insights, I aim to make their transition as smooth as possible and help them find a sense of routine and purpose as they navigate the hardest days of their lives.
