The Press: From Jailhouse to Journalism

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Deadlines are nothing new to newspaper reporters, but for Sidney Cassese of the Richmond Times-Dispatch they are double trouble. Cassese must not only get his copy in on time but he must also get home no later than 7:30 p.m.—on pain of arrest. Home for him is the Richmond city jail.

Born in Harlem, Cassese, 32, has served eleven years of a 30-year sentence in the Virginia State Penitentiary for armed robbery. When free from menial prison jobs in the bookbindery and pants factory, he nurtured a longtime interest in writing by taking a correspondence course in English literature and teaching himself touch typing. Last spring, because of good behavior and the fact that he is within a year of parole eligibility, Cassese was transferred to the city jail and placed in the state's "work release" program.

Learning the Business. A friend on the outside recommended Cassese to Times-Dispatch Publisher David Tennant Bryan, who agreed to give him a trial last month. City Editor Earle Dunford is pleased with Cassese's work: "He's still learning the business, but as things stand now, we hope to take him on if the parole works out.''

Cassese earns a regular trainee's salary of $87.50 a week, which is paid directly to the state's department of welfare and institutions for his account. Each morning at 6:30, he dons the mod clothes that he has bought with his newspaper earnings and walks to the Times-Dispatch building. There he either works on features and does a rewrite stint or is sent out on stories with a veteran reporter. Normally, the veteran writes for the paper while Cassese—like other interns —writes for city desk criticism. But Cassese has already had several stories in print, including a byliner on an urban development meeting and a signed movie review of Black Jesus.

The paper has had no complaints from people Cassese has interviewed. "They accept me,'' he says. "If they ask where I was trained for journalism, I say I attended the University of the State Penitentiary. Most people say, 'Glad to know you. I hope things work out well for you.' " Nights and weekends, when locked up in jail. Cassese dons jailhouse denims and spends much of his time reading.

Cassese's double deadline pressure builds up each workday evening, and there have been several close calls at the jail. A fellow reporter, Laurence Hilliard, usually drives Cassese home in his car. "We roar up to the jail entrance," says Hilliard, "and Sid hits the ground running." Cassese is grateful for the ride. "It's a tough neighborhood to walk through at night," he says. "One guy was stuck up on the way back to jail from work release. Isn't that a kick?"