Billy Hayes - The Midnight Express Letters: From a Turkish Prison 1970-1975

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Also by Billy Hayes:

Midnight Express

Midnight Return: Escaping Midnight Express

The Midnight Express Letters: From a Turkish Prison1970-1975

By Billy Hayes

Copyright 2013 Billy Hayes

All rights reserved. No part of this publication maybe reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in anyform or by any means without written permission from the publisher,except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages inconnection with a review written for inclusion in a broadcast,magazine, newspaper, or other media.

The people in this book are real. However, in somecases names and other identifying characteristics have beenchanged.

Portions of the following were previously publishedin Midnight Express 1977 by Billy Hayes: 10-8-1970 Letterto Mom and Dad, 6-15-72 Letter to Norman, 4-23-74 Letter toBarbara, and 9/28/75 Letter to Dad.

Published by Curly Brains Press at Smashwords

License Notes

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To the people who Ireached out to through these letters, who allowed me to express myhopes, fears, and needs, each providing unique outlets andconnections to the world beyond the bars. To those still here andto those gone, I send my love and deep gratitude. I never wouldhave made it without you.

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About the cover art: On my first day of freedom inAmsterdam, I wandered into the Rijksmuseum and came face up to ahuge print of this painting, Van Goghs Prisoners Exercising, withthe blonde convict in the foreground staring out at me.

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On October 7, 1970, I was arrested at the Istanbulairport with two kilos of prime Turkish hashish taped to my 23 yearold body. Looking back now, the idiocy of that move is hard tounderstand, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I spent thenext five years in several prisons. Then through desperation,determination, blind luck, and fate, I managed to escape off anisland in a rowboat one stormy night. Three days later, I swamacross the Maritsa River into Greece and freedom, eventuallyreturning home to New York. The story of my time in prison is toldin the autobiography, Midnight Express, and its sequel, Midnight Return, which picks up where thefirst book leaves off.

While most books about prison are written from theOutside, looking in or looking back, this collection of letters iswritten from the Inside, in the immediacy of the moment; a lifelineof words extending out beyond the bars in a desperate search forsanity and meaning. A series of letters to my family and friendschronicle how the early bravado and naivete that led me to thatprecarious position dissolve beneath a weight of years and tears,as I struggle to come to grips with the madness and innerconfusion. Everyone kept my letters and gave them back to me in1975 for research in writing Midnight Express. Later the letters wentinto cardboard boxes, where they remained for 25 years. I actuallyput them out with the trash once before my wife made me bring themback in.

When I told this story to my attorney and friend,Michael Donaldson, he was fascinated and had me bring him a few ofthe old moldering letters. As he read more and more he insistedthat I organize and annotate the bunch of them. It was hard tobelieve that anyone could care about 40-year-old letters, butMichaels advice is always good, and so I began. As I read them Iimmediately realized the emotional implications of this project.The words on the paper instantly sucked me back to the moment oftheir creation, back into that kid I used to be, sitting on thecoarse blanket of my bunk with that smell in the air and thosesounds in my ears. Id have to wrench myself back to the presentand clear my eyes to continue typing. Ive tried to convey theseletters verbatim, as embarrassing as it sometimes is to read what Ithought I knew about life, being so young and foolish. Apart fromtheir obvious value as a cautionary tale, I leave it up to thereader to judge this collection. I only hope it provides aninteresting portrait of an unusual experience and Im grateful tohave had the chance to live and survive it. That which doesnt killus

Billy Hayes

December 2012

Los Angeles, CA

A BRIEF DESCRIPTION

of the People in These Letters

Dad got a job at Metropolitan Life Insurance Companywhen he was 17 and worked there, moving up the ranks, for the next42 yearstalk about steady. A man of great honesty and integrity,he was the guy everyone turned to when in need of advice. Born andraised in the Bronx, he loved his family and the New York Giantsfootball team. Our political views were worlds apart, as I embracedthe leftist, hedonistic spirit of the 60s, but I never doubted hislove.

Mom didnt know much about politics and the world,but she knew people and her heart overflowed to everyone aroundher. My earliest memories are of her sweet voice singing Irish folksongs as I slid into sleep. The pain I caused her hollowed my heartand was the hardest part of prison.

Rob, my ever-steady brother and Peg,my dynamic young sister.

Barbara (Lillian in MidnightExpress) was my beautiful high school friend, sometimes lover,and kindred spirit, who became my eyes to the world through herletters and adventures. A brilliant and sophisticated woman, shecut her long crimson fingernails down to working length, and gaveup cities and society in favor of forests, mountains and openskies. An extreme athlete, she traveled alone to third worldcountries, raced dog sleds in Alaska, and climbed mountains aroundthe world. She was my connection to the feminine in the harshmasculine world of prison. Barbaras book, Dangling Without aRope, chronicles her intrepid life.

Norman was a laughing elf with blazing eyes,who spouted Irish poetry and had women swooning with his blarney.He, Marc and I were the Three Musketeers in high school.