I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, on a little island in the S. Puget Sound name McNeil Island.{1964-1980} My father worked for the Federal Gov't within the prison on the island. Again, it was a federal prison NOT state, so we (the island kids) had pretty much free reign. We drove cars at age 10, rode motorcycles without helmets. We would sneak out of our house, and wait until the older kids devised a party plan, then us younger kids would ease in as they got drunk, and pretty soon, we were ALL drunk and high!!

Later, my Dad who was a sawmill guy, was given the job of falling trees and working his crew of "trustee inmates" building boat ramps and other construction projects over the island. He often found baby raccoons out in the woods, and would bring them home. Usually just one at a time. We named them all Rocky. haha

Our school bus driver was a inmate. The guys who painted our island house, all inmates. Very friendly, non threatening people. It was quite the experience!

In 1980, when the Feds turned it over to the state, we relocated to Texas. I lived in TX for 30 years but when given the opportunity to move back to WA, I returned, leaving behind family and friends.