Adrian Torres Update

Adrian is at Mule Creek State Prison.

His address is:

Adrian Torres T30064
D17-C204-2 up
P.O. Box 409089
Ione, CA 95640

Adrian covets your letters, and please continue to pray for him as he serves the Lord in a California State Prison.

The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**
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Baby Gophers and Sin

“Baby gophers for trade; $2 in Top Ramen; Beef-flavored only; See Big Chato

My cell mate had already told me about the sign, but I just could not believe Big Chato was selling his baby gophers.

“I think it would be fun to have a baby pet gopher in the cell,” my cell mate shared with me as we both saw a sad pet adoption commercial on our TVs.
I didn’t answer because I didn’t think he was serious. Plus, the sad commercial filled with sad puppy faces was making me cry a little bit.

I guess my silence was mistaken for agreement, because he then asked me to let him borrow $2 in beef-flavored Top Ramen. My cell mate doesn’t speak English very well, and can’t read it either, so I answered, “Sure, I’ll let you borrow the soups, but can you also give a note to Big Chato for me?”

He thought nothing of the request and agreed. Before going to work I pulled out the $2 in soups and wrote the note.

When I came back from work I was positive I would not be returning to a baby pet gopher. Why? Because in the note I wrote, “Big Chato, it’s me, Pastor Adrian. If you give the baby gopher to my cell mate, I’ll accidently forget to share some KFC with you when it comes in.”

Big Chato is, well, big. And he loves food. And I knew he would not dare pass up a piece of chicken, especially from KFC. So when I got back to the cell, my cell mate shared with me that Big Chato had already pre-sold all the baby gophers. I’ve yet to tell him that it was my note that got in the way.

You might be thinking that I did a bad or mean thing, but I would beg to differ. Having a baby gopher was just not good or safe for us. The harmless-looking animal will one day be grown. And grown gophers, outside of their natural environments, can be very dangerous.

My cell mate’s desire to have a baby pet gopher just wasn’t good for us. As believers, you and I desire things at times that are just not good for us. That little “no-one-will-ever-know” sin. That secret indulgence. That thing that looks harmless.

We take it into our lives. We feed it with our time. We secretly indulge it. And before we know it, we have a fully gown, hard-to-give-up, habitual sin biting at our heels. It started as a cute harmless-looking sin, but turned into an uncontrollable dark, ugly, transgression.

I wrote the note to Big Chato to avoid any headaches down the road, with an uncontrollable, ugly, grown gopher. We must do the same with harmless-looking sins. We must not let even one into our lives, to avoid something uglier down the road.

If you’ve already let one into your life, it’s time to get rid of it. No questions asked.

…..perfectly happy with my Pet-rock….

Adrian G. Torres

This blog was authored by Adrian Torres who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

For Sale

The pressure was strong. His sales pitch was impressive and tempting, yet I kept declining. “Come on!” he was upping the ante, “I’ll make it three and you choose the day.” I hesitated because the offer was great, but in the end I declined it, too.

Using the shower only happens three times a week in Ad Seg (the Hole.) Although the showers are filthy, a full head-to-toes cleansing makes a big difference, both physically and emotionally. Plus, the shower is the only place we are issued razors in Ad Seg, making showers indispensable.

The officers who run the Hole have to work very hard, physically, whether they like it or not. Anything and everything an inmate would do for himself in an ordinary facility has to be done by the officers in here. And because there are over 100 cells and three tiers, the officers do a whole lot of walking and stair-climbing. I can only imagine how exhausting this gets over the course of an 8-hour shift. What amazes me is how they do it for 16 hours.

For some reason I can’t figure out, some officers work overtime. Working overtime in a regular facility is easier because the inmates are assigned the heavy work. But in the Hole, the officer has to work hard, and do it for two shifts. The physical toll taken on these officers is easily seen in their body language.

One officer who works a lot of overtime had been given the “shower patrol.” This meant cuffing, escorting, uncuffing, and issuing razors, all while juggling three showers at once. The job is taxing and frustrating. So to avoid the work, this officer resorted to his sales pitch. Making use of the kitchen, he grabbed sack lunches and began going cell-to-cell.

“Anyone wants to sell their shower time for a lunch, let me know,” he said, as he walked the tiers slowly, showing the prize. He knew food was hard to resist for those of us in the Hole, since we don’t have access to any extras.

I began to hear the cries of “Me!”, and as he passed that cell he would drop a sack or two into the tray slot.  Then noting the relinquishing of the shower on that day by that inmate on a piece of paper, he continued his rounds.

I heard a lot of tray slots open and close, so I knew his sales were up that day. His reserve of energy was safe, since he had protected it by trading lunches for showers. The tone in his voice grew more cheerful as he got closer to my cell. But unknown to him, I had already decided that I would not sell, no matter what the price.

By the sound of his jangling keys I knew he was close, so I picked up something to read. I was hoping to avoid eye contact so he would not try to convince me. But I was played. I thought I had heard his keys pass by, so I waited a few seconds before looking up, sure that I was safe. And there he was, standing at my door. With a used-car salesman’s cheesy smile, lunch sacks in hand, he stood there looking. I almost yelled, thinking he was the clown from the “It” movie, but I didn’t.

“I’m good,” I said before he could ask. “I need a shower and a shave.”

“I’ll give you two,” he offered as he held two sacks up to the window.

“No, I’m good.” Not only did I want a shower and shave, I also didn’t particularly like the content of that day’s lunch sack, and somehow he knew that.

“C’mon,” he protested. Then opening his eyes wide with a new idea, he decided to up the value and change when I would receive the sacks. “I’ll make it three and you choose the day.” His pitch was getting interesting. Saturday’s lunches always included fruit. But then again, Sunday’s always had meat and cheese that weren’t of mysterious composition, as they often were on other days. His offer not only piqued my interest, but also my stomach’s. I knew in the end, though, I couldn’t sell.

“Make it five lunches on Sunday,” I bluffed.

“Too rich for me,” he said as he walked away, still offering lunch sacks for showers to the other cells.

This world, the one you and I live in, has plenty to offer. As Christians, we are given the grace and freedom to enjoy life’s pleasures. But not everything is beneficial to our lives – and those are the things that are most tempting.

How many times has life offered you something that is not particularly wrong, but it’s not something you should participate in? Small choices that don’t seem to make much of an impact are always in front of us, tempting us, but if we make the wrong choices consistently we will eventually be numb to what is right. No alcoholic becomes one with the first drink. No affair exists that didn’t begin with small incidents of flirting. We do not become unhealthy with one bag of candy, but with months and years of unhealthy eating choices.

Not going to church one day, or not reading the Word one morning, or not praying one night before bed, will never cause your relationship with God to fail. It’s a slow, ever-increasing pattern of choices that slowly make us cold, away from the warmth of God’s love.

It’s really easy to buy into what this world offers. I admit it, the world’s pleasures are tempting; but most of those pleasures will lead us away from our calling in Christ.

Yeshua was offered the world, by the great tempter himself, Satan, yet He refused all offers. His purpose in coming to earth would not be thwarted. None of us will ever be called to do what Jesus was called to do – to die to save the world from sin – but we each have a calling from God.

The pressure to sell out is great, but the Power within us is greater still. Don’t let temptation rob you of your high calling, because in the end you will end up unshowered and hairy.

Be wise – don’t sell out.

……..clean and well-shaven……..

Adrian G. Torres

This blog was authored by Adrian Torres who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

Like A Bird

I don’t like doing it, but I have to. In the end, the mess is more trouble than I like. But the fact remains that if I don’t pretend to be a bird, I’ll be way too stinky.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays Ad Seg (the Hole) gives us the opportunity to shower. The high-pressure cold water really does help, along with the soap and shampoo that lather under the steady stream of H2O. But it’s what we do the other four days that is more important. We call them “birdbaths.”

I prepare by moving anything off the floor that might get wet. Next I place a bath towel on the floor, right where I know the water will try to escape. I then plug the hole in the sink with a piece of milk carton and begin to fill the sink. Once it is full, I balance my soap on the rim of the sink and turn off the lights.

In the dark I don my birthday suit and sit on the toilet, facing the wall. The sink is about one foot away from the toilet. With one hand I use my half-pint milk carton to scoop water from the sink, splashing from head to toe. With the other hand I use my soap to lather up, then go back to my milk carton for the rinse. About half of the water lands in the toilet while the other half ends up on the floor. I then dry off, put on boxers and a shirt, and begin the part of the routine I truly hate – picking up all the gray water off the floor.

With the towel already on the floor, I begin to herd all the water into one large pool. Slowly and deliberately I wring the water out of the towel into the sink until it’s nearly all gone. Then I clean the soap scum from the toilet and sink. From start to finish, my birdbath takes about thirty minutes.

Did I mention I don’t like this activity? But if I want to stay clean and healthy, I must be like a bird between shower days. This also applies to every believer in Christ.

As believers, we faithfully attend church. Some go on Saturdays, some on Sundays. Then we might add another night, for a Bible study. These services are great. We hear God’s Word from a minister. More often than not, the sermon causes us to examine our walk with the Lord. We leave, renewed. But it’s what we do in-between these services that is equally important. We must take “Wordbaths.”

I’m risking sounding too religious, but I truly believe we need to bathe in God’s Word daily, and not just in a hurry, with a sideways glance, as we think about other things. We can’t just splash water on our faces and call ourselves clean. We must take the time to prepare, by consciously washing our souls, minds, and hearts with the powerful and oh-so-personal Word of our living Lord. We must remove the protective covering and allow His Word to absorb into us.

The world is so polluted; surely we need a daily touch-up. Even if we don’t participate in worldly things, our minds still get bombarded with them. The radio, internet, and work leave their dirty marks on us. If we don’t take the time to purposely renew our minds, on a daily basis, that dirt will build up. Eventually our lives begin to stink. We try to blame others for our own dirt build-up, but in the end, we are the ones who carry the odor.

There is a solution; take a “Wordbath” every day. If you do, you will begin to see how easily the pollution of the world can be washed off.

……..suddenly craving some sunflower seeds…….

Adrian G. Torres

 

 

This blog was authored by Adrian Torres who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

Zombie Fly

He is sneaky and persistent. He swoops in from the right, then from the left; from above, and below. His speed gives him an advantage. If his mission is to drive us crazy, he succeeds every time.

Just like this prison, Ad Seg (the Hole) is very old. The cells here are not airtight. Cracks around the doors are common things. Toilets and sinks dangle off the walls. The grill on the vent is large enough for my index finger to fit through. So it’s not uncommon for uninvited guests to visit us.

Many of our daily attendees are little tiny flying “thingies.” Smaller than flies and gnats, they are bold beyond their size. I’ve never seen these tiny bullies come in; they just do. I have to assume that when they enter our cell they sit and wait until we are comfortable and relaxed. That’s when they make their move!

These Kamikaze bullies take off from their hiding places and aim right for our heads, my bald spot lighting the way better than any runway lights. At full speed they fly, each scoring a direct hit before he flies off again. We now consider this first landing a warning, because we know he will be back.

Focusing our eyes in the direction he flew, we try to spot him. But as we scrutinize his landing spot, he comes with full vengeance from the other direction. We begin to flail our arms about our heads, hoping for a hit, but it all comes to naught. He is just too fast, and too sneaky.

I imagine him laughing at us as he escapes to a shadowy corner, watching us waving our arms in a panic. Futile, he knows, because he isn’t there. Just as we settle down again, he strikes; but this time he aims for our mouths. He makes contact with our lips, making us think we have swallowed him. As he flies away, we cough, but there’s nothing there. He’s safe, back in his corner. Frantically we guzzle water, trying to wash the phantom down. Once he sees us make this desperate move, he knows he has us, because we think he’s dead.

Knowing that we think he is dead, he becomes even more annoying as a Zombie Fly. With his tiny wings rivaling those of a hummingbird, he zooms again for our heads. This “bully war” lasts for hours. So we finally decided to try to outsmart him; we came up with a plan.

Allowing him to strike once or twice is part of our strategy. Once he believes we are calm, we patiently await his next strike, pretending to be unaware of his location. This time we don’t react, we just follow him to his resting place. It takes a little training to pick up his flight pattern, but eventually we succeed. Once we see him land to take a breather, we use whatever Ninja moves we possess, sneak up on him, and with a giant hand send him to bug heaven.

The next day his cousin or brother comes to check us out, and the routine begins again.

Have you ever had a peaceful time; a time when all seems to be going right and life is just plain good? It often seems to happen during those times that someone, out of nowhere, begins to annoy you. They seem to have a vendetta against you. They aim their venom in your direction. This person shatters our peace. He or she could be a neighbor or a coworker; a church member or family. For seemingly no reason, he or she decides to rock your boat. You try everything to try to fend them off, but nothing seems to work.

Defense is always my first reaction. It’s normal to protest what seems unjust; unfortunately, when the darts of an enemy come from unexpected directions, defending becomes impossible.

So, what to do? No, don’t squash the person, like we do our bully Zombie Flies. Practice patience. I believe that in the middle of an unjust onslaught, patience is the ultimate weapon. And while waiting, seek God. Let Him know your frustrations with these bullies. He can remove them from your life. Learn to trust fully in His will; and in His perfect timing, He will remove the bully, or change Him into a follower of the Creator.

We all have them, but we don’t need to panic, or give in. The only One to Whom we yield is our Father God.

……….best Ninja ever……….

Adrian G. Torres

 

This blog was authored by Adrian Torres who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

Double Double

“Two For the Price of One” is always an attention-grabbing offer. It’s hard to ignore getting seconds free, just because you wanted firsts. “Two-for-One” works well for retail, but not for reflections in a mirror.

Here in Ad Seg (the Hole) I get an opportunity to look in a mirror only when I receive a shower. The shower has four slim windows so the officers can look in, for security reasons, and on the outside of one of those windows is a 6”x 6” acrylic mirror.

The convenient mirror is taped there so we can see when we shave (I check my wrinkles too, but that’s a whole nother blog.) Trimming around mustaches, sideburns and beards is very difficult to do blind. The mirror is essential, unless it is taped on the outside of a double-paned prison security window.

The double-paned windows in prisons are nothing like residential ones in which, when well-made, one would never notice the two panes back to back. They are made so one has no distortions when looking through them. Prisons don’t care much for that. Their windows are made to take abuse, and to keep inmates inside. The gap between the two glass panes is wide, and cushion of goo frames the two panes from within.  The installers of prison glass are never worried if the two panes cause double reflections.

My shower location, located on my tier, the third tier, has just such a window. It doesn’t matter what angle I use, I see me twice. Seeing two MEs makes it very difficult to shave, especially if I’m trying to properly line up my facial hair. The result is always askew – one sideburn is higher than the other, and my goatee is unbalanced. The look is just so un-GQ.

The Bible tells us about a double mirror that God gave to the children of Israel. The Ten Commandments were given to Israel, from God, so that they would see how impossible it was to meet God’s standards of purity and righteousness. By reading the Ten Commandments, Israel would be able to gauge the distance their sin separated them from God. Yet, the Ten Commandments also showed God’s love, through the access granted to Him through them. In those laws one could see the good and the bad; a double image in a single mirror.

Yeshua, however, came to fulfill the first mirror, and to give us a second. This second mirror, used regularly, will in the beginning reflect your image. But the longer you use it, you will also see a reflection of the Giver of the Mirror – Jesus, Himself the Word of God.

The Word of God is not meant to be read as just a source of catchy, one-time verses when life gets hard. The Word of God is meant to be read and studied, and our goal should always be that it is absorbed into our hearts, minds, and souls, so that eventually what you see when you look into a mirror is Yeshua Himself.

The mirror of God’s Word not only shows our flaws, but it proves that what was once impossible has been made possible through the blood of Yeshua.

Are you looking into the mirror – the Word of God? Do you read it every day, praying that God will open your heart and your mind to absorb it? I hope so, for it is there you will stop seeing you and begin to see your Savior.

……loving BOGO……..

Adrian G. Torres

 

This blog was authored by Adrian Torres who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

The Choice

No warning is given. The instant brightness burns through my eyelids. I only have two options: open my eyes to the light, or cover up and try to avoid it.

Here in Ad Seg (the Hole) there is little over which I have control. Although I can flush my toilet when I use it, the gods limit me to only two flushes every thirty minutes. I’m allowed to shave when I shower; however, I only receive three showers every seven days. And although I have a light switch, the wizards behind the steel curtains can override it at their whim.

The cell I’m in is actually the last cell in the building. There are three tiers (floors) and 34 cells per tier. I’m on the third floor, the 34th cell. All windows in this ancient building are located toward its center. Most windows are covered with plywood, but a little light from outside does squeeze through. From my cell it’s very difficult to see.

My cell faces a solid wall and a set of heavily-caged stairs. Looking directly outside of my cell, I see only a wall and a diamond-shaped grill. By sight alone I can’t tell what time of day it is. When I switch the cell lights off, it’s dark.

Of course, I turn the lights off to sleep. With the penetrating darkness it’s not hard to lie there praying and meditating on God’s goodness before falling asleep. The absence of light, all night long, facilitates my slumber.

Since I never know the time I never know when it’s morning. My clue is when the morning shift officers arrive, but I don’t hear them because they aren’t close. My clue is their forcible lighting of all the cells.

The abrupt, bright light startles me awake, and forces the darkness to hide beneath my bunk, awaiting night once again. Because the lights are turned on by the officers, I can’t turn mine off; I am left with two choices. I can embrace it, open my eyes, and get up, or I can grab my sheet, pull it over my head, and block the light.

I always make the same choice – I open my eyes and get up. I embrace the light, even if my sleep of the night before was poor. Then I wash up and begin my day. I do this because it is reality – the light is on. I can hide my eyes from it, but it is still there. I’m on a fool’s errand if I think I can eliminate the light by blinding my eyes with my sheet.

I was a spiritual fool for many years, hiding from the Light of God. Before I came to prison I knew God was calling me, but I hid my eyes from His Light, covering the eyes of my heart so I could live for the pleasures of the world. Time after time I thought I had fooled God; but the truth was, I was the fool.

God finally got tired of my games and allowed me to end up in prison. Only then did I see that, all along, the real fool was me. I still had the same choices – embrace the Light or continue as a fool and try to cover my eyes.

Obviously, I chose to embrace the Light, but it isn’t always easy. At times I find myself on very rough patches of road, but I, with God’s help, and through His Word and prayer, continue toward the Light, because even as a fool I know it is what guides me and give me life….and so much more.

Has God been calling you, yet you’ve been hiding? Don’t be a fool; you can’t hide from God. You have two choices – embrace the Light or continue to hide. Embrace the Light and live, or hide from it and death awaits you. Stop being a fool.

I know. I was once the biggest fool in the world.

…….does anyone have the time?……..

Adrian G. Torres

This blog was authored by Adrian who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**

Trust the Process

The process is very aggressive. Some might even classify it as violent. But no one in the world would ever try to stop it. It’s a process that needs to be endured to achieve the essential result.

Dunking it into water, and keeping it submerged until the very last air bubble escapes, is only the first step. It must immediately be pulled out of the water, then dunked back into it. After this second immersing, it is yanked back out and thrown on the floor.

Lying on the ground, drenched and lifeless, a solution is poured onto it. The wet fibers mix with the chemicals; instantly the Aggressor begins to manhandle it. It’s grabbed by its sides, then folded back onto itself. Heat is generated by vigorous rubbing.  The motion of back-and-forth, using the surfaces as washboards, goes on for minutes. Just as it winds down – the end is coming – it gets picked back up and flipped over.

The aggression begins again; the banging and rubbing are non-stop. The solution in the fibers creates suds. The violence continues for more minutes. Once the Aggressor is satisfied with his work, it is plunged back into the water. But this time he doesn’t hold it under. He dunks it, over and over again until the added solution disappears. It’s not a pleasing sight; the water turns brown, and draining and redrawing the water is a must until the water is clear. Only then is the Aggressor – me – satisfied.

There is just no other way. This is the process. How else can I wash my sheet in Ad Seg (the Hole)?

It’s no secret; I’ve written about it before. The Hole doesn’t provide very clean laundry. It is never white and the musky odor is not pleasant. My only solution to avoid using it as it is issued to me is to wash it myself.

I wash my shirt, boxers, socks, and towel almost daily; but this is not possible with my sheet, so once a week I strip it off the so-called mattress and wash it.

Although the Hole at California Institution for Men is old, and most cells still have the old-school-ceramic-deep-bowl sink, it’s still not deep enough to scrub the sheets. Knowing I will be scrubbing my sheet on the floor, I first make sure the floor is clean. Then I soak the sheet in the sink, remove it, soaking wet, and plop it onto the floor. The water in the sink is enough to lather the mixture of shampoo and bar soap I pour onto it. I work the mixture into the fibers, then use the sheet itself to wash itself. I meticulously scrub every inch of it, then flip it over and do it again.

Satisfied, I dunk it over and over into the sink water until the water is clean and without suds. Wringing it out as well as I can, I hang it, but because the cells in the Hole provide little air flow, it takes all day to dry.

Once dried, I’m able to use it as it was intended – for my body to lie on. Washing it myself makes the sheet 100% more clean than when I received it. Only I can wash it like it should be washed.

The sheet reminds me of….well….me. See, if the sheet could talk it would surely protest the abuse I inflict upon it. The process of cleaning, just to be used, would be unpleasant to the sheet; it would not enjoy it.

I don’t like being in the Hole. In fact, I hate it. The process of having to live in such horrible conditions is not an attractive one. The third-world living seems unfruitful, and the mental challenges are exhausting. But God knows I need it.

He must put me through the process because He is preparing me to be used by Him. There is not a second that is wasted during this time; He is molding me into the vessel He wants me to be. The pressure He uses during the molding is unpleasant. The friction caused between His fingers and my life creates heated complaints. But He doesn’t stop.

His process for me is not because He hates me; it is because He loves me. That love is preparing me for what is ahead. Once ready, He will use me exactly for what He pleases. Only He can put me through this process; nothing out there could ever prepare me like the molding of the Creator’s own hands. Only the One Who intends to use me knows how to prepare me.

You may be in a similar situation. You might wonder why you are experiencing such difficulty in your life; feeling like you are being put through a laundry cycle, including the wringer. Your life is tough right now, and you truly know that you did nothing to reap this result. If you know Him, you know that He is preparing you for His next task for you.

I know, it’s hard to surrender to such a process. Humanly, it’s just plain hard. But God sees beyond our weakness and into our souls. He would not be putting us through this process if He knew we could not handle it. We do not serve a harsh, unloving God. We serve a God Who knows us much better than we know ourselves. And because He knows us so well, He will prepare us perfectly for His plan for us.

Surrendering is never easy, but when it is accompanied by trust you will be at peace. Trust Him, knowing He loves you.

Trust the process.

…….planning on attacking my shirt next…….

Adrian G. Torres

 

 

 

 

This blog was authored by Adrian who is incarcerated.  Adrian sends the blogs via US Mail to Friends of Adrian volunteers who post the blog.
The website is owned and maintained by Friends of Adrian volunteers. Due to his incarceration, Adrian Torres has no access to the website and is unable to respond to any comments posted.
Comments are answered by Friends of Adrian volunteers.**