Thoughts on Jarvis Masters' Writings From Death Row

"I watched Jack Marbol, dressed only in his undershorts, as he struggled to walk. Then he collapsed on the tier, in front of my cell. He fell to his knees, retching. His white body and face were charred black, like those of a coal miner trapped in a mine shaft. The whole tier began laughing up a storm, and some said they wished Jack Marbol would die right there on the spot.
I stared into his eyes, and saw a person's heart on fire. No matter how the others laughed or what they wished for, I vowed that as one nut in this very large fruitcake I would never be cracked. I prayed that ol' Jack Marbol, a prisoner like myself, would be OK."

From Jarvis Jay Masters' Finding Freedom: Writings From Death Row

Reading stories like this is like hearing stories from the front lines of some excruciating battle. Where human beings meet the struggle for survival, where instinct, where feeling take over, humans, it seems, are far better than what we have created for ourselves in the middle to upper class Western world. Very little appreciation for the most basic things like life, health, family, love. Authenticity lost.