:04:10
Dear Sister Helen,
:04:12
Thank you for writin' to me. I'm writin'
from my home, my six by eight foot cell.
:04:18
I'm in here 23 hours a day.
:04:20
We don't work on death row.
:04:23
We're special here. They keep us away
from the general population of the prison.
:04:27
We're the elite, cos we gonna fry.
:04:30
It's hard not to get soft in this cell.
I press my footlocker...
:04:34
...try to get my muscles in shape,
but it's hard not to get fat.
:04:39
Rice, potatoes, pancakes, beans.
:04:42
Sometimes I feel like a sow that's being
fattened up for a Christmas slaughter.
:04:48
I had a dream that I was
about to be fried in the chair...
:04:51
...and a guard came into my cell
with a chef's hat on.
:04:54
He started to roll me in breadcrumbs...
:04:56
...lickin' his chops and all.
:04:59
Maybe I'm weird to have dreams like that,
but your mind does funny things...
:05:02
...when you're surrounded
by people that wanna kill you.
:05:06
Anyway, thanks for writin'.
:05:09
I don't get many letters or visitors.
:05:11
No one in my family seems able
to make the trip out here. I understand.
:05:16
It's a long drive from Slidell.
:05:19
(beeps)
:05:23
- Good morning.
- Good morning, Father.
:05:25
- Sister...
- Helen Prejean. Nice to meet you.
:05:39
- Have you been in a prison before?
- No, Father.
:05:42
Sister Clement and I sang at the juvenile
detention centre in New Orleans.
:05:46
We sang "Kumbaya"
and the boys really liked it.
:05:49
They started makin' up their own verses,
singin' "Someone's escapin', my Lord..."
:05:55
The guards made us
sing a different song.
:05:58
Where is your habit?