The last sentence: How I became pen pals with an inmate on death row

The simple act of receiving a letter can be a vital lifeline for many prisoners, but there are important lessons that everyone can learn from the process of being a pen pal, says Alice Hall

Illustration by Dilruba Tayfun

The first letter he sent was three pages long and penned in elegantly looped handwriting. It consisted of the usual formalities one expects when getting to know someone via written communication: a brief first glimpse into his life, an account of his daily routines and a list of some of his favourite hobbies. Yet entwined within our amicable introductions were two sentences that stood out starkly from the rest.

“If it wasn’t for this place, I would be dead. Death row saved my life.”

This man feared for his life so greatly growing up that he found salvation in the place built to kill him. It’s an astonishing concept in our modern world. While these were some of the first words Jay* wrote to me, I didn’t know whether they might also be his last. That’s just one complication that comes with having a pen pal on death row; your correspondence, however pleasant, is always plagued by a haunting sense of finality.