Yesterday....at work...I supervised a community service work crew at the Old Salem Courthouse. The crew we had yesterday were kids...ranging from 13 to 16. The Courthouse is connected to the old jail as well. The jail is no longer used to house inmates...so it is now mainly used for storage. They now have Christmas decorations, paint, cleaning supplies, etc...all stored in the jail where inmates used to spend their time.

We got a tour of the building when we first got there...and let me tell you, that jail is creepy. You just know that some serious shit went down in there. It looked old...and beaten down, much like I imagine the people were who used to spend their days and night there.

We had to go into the jail from time to time...to get things we needed to finish cleaning one of the rooms of the court house. The kids at first thought the jail was pretty cool...they would put themselves into one of the cells and read some of the things the inmates wrote on the wall. But...even as they thought it was cool...none of the kids wanted to be in there alone. I had to go in there from time to time by myself...in order to grab something or another...and I got in and got out as quickly as possible. I couldn't shake the feeling...the undeniable feeling...that someone just didn't want me there.