Some people go overseas on business. Some people go to New York or Miami or Seattle. Some go to Cincinnati or Memphis. I get to go to the little towns of Wisconsin: Mauston, Plymouth, Waupun, Sturdevant, and Prairie du Chien. I take the prison tour of Wisconsin.

Most of the time I take day trips. Two hours of driving, one of meeting, lunch, and more driving make more than a full day for a part-time worker. When I�m very lucky, I�m driving through the Kettle Moraine Forest just as the leaves are turning color. If I�m not quite as lucky, it�s spring and I�m driving across the Horicon Marsh just as the reeds begin to set off the early yellow-greenery. If I have just ordinary luck, I�m looking at the historical walls of the old prison at Waupun.

Sometimes, I take overnight trips. Today, I�m going clear across the state on a ridiculously triangular route, driving two lane highways from Mauston to Prairie du Chien and staying at a Super 8 overnight. I�ll grab coffee at my office away from home: McDonald�s and if I can�t locate a McDonald�s I�ll sip the coffee from some gas station in the state car. At least I�ve never heard a bad line from a traveling business man when sitting in the state car at the gas station.

When I first started this job there were fewer and more productive trips. We had fewer prisons and most of them were not very far away. I�d go to one place and see three or four clients. I�d do all my visits for a month in a day or two. Even the visits seemed easier then. The clients were older because we did not put teenagers in prison in those days. There were fewer clients serving very long sentences and almost none facing long sentences solely because of drugs. The system knew those guys and those guys knew the system. A little bit of explanation and some chat went a very long way. If there was an issue, we appealed. If there was no issue, we usually closed the case and the guy served his time. Sometimes I�d even be thanked for my troubles even if I could be of little help.

Now, I face sixteen year olds---especially sullen, immature sixteen year olds. They have no frame of reference for understanding appeals. I used to be able to explain that the court of appeals is like the basketball umpire of the legal system. I would say that the court did not ask whether which team should win but, instead, worried about whether the rules were being followed. I used to explain that not every winning appeal ended up in a win just as not every successful jump shot leads to a winning game. Although some kids can follow this explanation, others just get pictures of three judges sitting in stripes. Few thank me. No one agrees to close the case�and no one should just give up when facing an entire lifetime in prison.

Nevertheless, although it�s gotten harder, I love this job. I believe in this job. I believe that it is me, as much or more than traditional law enforcement, that stands between us and lawlessness. A citizen breaking the law can cause damage to society. Society breaking its own laws can cause far more damage. I am the law enforcement officer of the courts. Mine is the voice that reminds us that it is easy to do right on sunny days and with beautiful people but our measure is whether we do right on rainy days with the flotsam and jetsam of our world.

So think of me on the road tomorrow, counseling, teaching, gathering information and tilting at windmills in rural Wisconsin towns. I�m driving in circles for hours, going nowhere glamorous�and I�m doing it for all of us.

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