Timothy Powell

Visiting Room Correspondent

Trying to determine the most significant impact my father’s influence had on me is and always will be a work in progress.  This is because I naturally incline my determination to good aspects of his life with good aspects of my life.

I should begin by telling you I was adopted. I have had very little contact with my biological father. I was a very ill infant, creating financial burden on my biological mother of three which she could not maintain.  She sought the help of a childless couple asking them to take me in temporarily.  Mr. and Mrs. Powell opted for a more permanent arrangement fearing the likelihood that they would become emotionally attached to me making separation overwhelming on them.

Both of my adoptive parents were hard workers who went to work everyday.  My 

mother’s employment record was very spotty almost entirely due to my repeated recalcitrant behavior in school, my father was at work most of the time.  There was even a time when my father took on a second job as a janitor at a downtown (Boston) office building in order to stay ahead of the bills.  I never went a day or evening hungry; I slept on a good and comfortable bed in a warm room. 

There is nothing in my criminal history which is attributable to either of my parents.  Though my father was from South Carolina and lived through Jim Crow, neither he nor my mother taught me to me to be racist.

 My father died of cancer in 1982, while I was serving a lengthy sentence at MCI-Norfolk.  In those days, inmates were allowed to attend the actual funeral service with an escorted furlough.  The highlight for me was being asked by mother to deliver an eulogy for him.  It was a proud moment for my mother and a relief for my father’s family whose major conflict was that I would embarrass the family.  Despite the chain restraints the effort was well received when it was over and I think he would have been proud if he could have heard it.

 

Timothy Powell
Visiting Room Correspondent