All language subtitles for episode_7_-_black_place_of_horrors

I went to Peru to smuggle cocaine.

Little did I know that decision was
going to change my life forever.

They said it was the hardest prison in
North America.

It was a living hell.

Then I fell in love.

I thought, I've got to get out of here.

I made a plan.

Okay.

In 1970, I went to Peru for adventure.

I was 24 years old.

I had a degree in psychology and
mathematics with anthropology, but I

to have always wanted to do exciting
outdoor things.

I had always wanted to see Machu Picchu.

Seeing these incredible stone runes.

This was a dream come true.

I was young, I was free, and wanted to
live life to the

fullest.

I arrived in Lima, and I met a person on
the street.

I'd heard about cocaine.

I had never really done cocaine.

We chatted. He seemed educated. He spoke
English.

And I asked him about cocaine.

And he said, yes, he could get me some.

We did not think of coke as a bad thing
then. We did not see it as a plague.

And so I bought a gram of cocaine.

And I took my first step.

I had tried other drugs, but it was
something about cocaine, the way it hit

pleasure centers in my brain.

I loved it.

It just felt wonderful.

I thought life was good, but things go
better with coke.

I went back to California.

I was working as an emergency medical
technician, but I came back different.

I started buying grams of cocaine, going
to work and then going to the men's

room and taking a sniff.

I was enjoying the high more and more.

And at a certain point, my nose got
bigger than my wallet.

And I was objecting to how much money I
was paying for it in the United States.

And so I kept thinking, I ought to go
back.

to South America and get some more coke.

I had put casts on people with broken
limbs.

And while I was doing it one day, I
thought, why couldn't

I put cocaine in a cast?

No customs agent would ever check that.

And I thought, yes.

It has to work.

My plan was to fake having a mountain
climbing accident with a

broken shoulder.

I would then put the cocaine in my arm
under a shoulder cap.

I also had four x -rays.

I had... false medical receipts showing
that I had paid money to the doctors.

So if anything ever came up in customs,
I would just show them all the medical

papers. I thought, no one's done that
before.

People told me you had to be calm coming
through customs.

Maybe I should take some Valium.

I thought, I'm way ahead of the game.
I'm smarter than them. They're not going

to catch me.

In retrospect, this was a
phantasmagorically complex plan.

But under cocaine, it all seemed so
clear and unique and original.

First time I went to Lima, I was there
to visit the city. This time, I came to

smuggle cocaine.

I found a cheap hotel downtown, and I
called up Rene.

He's got the cocaine.

We sniff it, and I feel the numbing,
sensuous clarity

of the rush of cocaine.

I showed him my plant, and he said,
Dwight, this is brilliant.

This is original.

We put my cocaine on up here.

I show Rene how to put the cast on.

I put a brace on my leg and crutches for
walking.

And he says, he's brilliant, man.

I thought, I trust this guy. This is
going to work.

I was taking an overland bus to Ecuador.

This was the first phase.

Then I would fly from Guayaquil, Ecuador
to Mexico and travel to where I could

just walk across the U .S. border.

Finally, the bus pulled up to the Peru
-Ecuador border.

I was here three years ago. This was a
cakewalk.

You showed them your passport, they
stamped it, and they let you through.

I saw them searching Peruvians and
Ecuadorians, patting their bodies.

Body searching.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Were they going to body search me?

The customs man came aboard.

Then he said, take your luggage out.

And this attractive young traveler sat
next to me. He said, I bet you have a

kilo of cocaine under there. What?

I had a total panic reaction.

I am paranoid.

I realized I couldn't be inconspicuous
with this cast.

I came up to the guard. He looked at me.

He looked at the cast, said, ¿Qué pasó?

And I thought I had a climbing accident.

He was opening the suitcase, and he sees
mountain climbing gear in there. And I

grab it with my hand, I move it around,
I explain.

He came out of the wall, and I fell.

I felt dread and panic.

If they body searched me, they would
find the cocaine in the cask.

Every little thing, I interpret them as
knowing what's going on.

But they just waved me through. Yeah?

I asked him to help with my suitcase,
and he did.

Everyone was treating me like the
injured person that I was portraying.

I had made it from the first board
across to Ecuador.

I thought, this is working.

I got to the airport in Guayaquil,
Ecuador.

I wasn't sniffing coke.

And my straight self began to say, this
is pretty dangerous.

I took two Valium to calm myself down.

They take their effect

I am tranquilized.

Little did I know that decision to take
some Valium was going to change my life

forever.

The plane lands at Benito Juarez Airport
in Mexico City.

I am in a Valium -induced fog.

I am numb.

I see my luggage.

I point to a baggage man to lift it for
me.

He carries it over to customs.

Everything is dulled for me right now.

The customs agent looks at me.

under the influence of Elion.

Time stopped.

I am paranoid.

Is he suspecting me?

I can't go back. I can't go forward.

But he just closes it and slides it off.

And I'm thinking, I made it.

And as I am walking through, a very
muscular man comes up to me, grabs

me and says, I thought I had already
cleared customs.

He had been sitting there watching
people pass through.

I'm thinking, this isn't supposed to
happen. This is not supposed to happen.

The customs agent took me into a back
room, dragging my suitcase with me.

He says, take off your shirt.

And then, what do you have under the
cast?

And I said, nothing.

I am shouting to him, oh, I'm injured.

He feels that I'm tightening my stomach.
And he says, loosen up, loosen up. And

I don't.

And he flaps me in the face.

I thought, oh, this is serious.

He gets out the pliers, and he feels a
rustle.

He shouts, Droga.

Droga. And a doctor comes, and he just
cuts the cast off.

And there are the two bags of cocaine.

Cocaine, huh? Cocaine.

I am caught dead, no doubt whatsoever.

They get the handcuffs on.

I pull my pants down.

Another man says, Who are you working
for? Nobody.

Who are you working for? Nobody.

They get out this metal rod and started
shocking

me with electricity.

They worked over my chest and waist and
then started going at my genitals.

I could

not endure the pain of electricity
flowing through me.

And then I said, At

this point, They said, sign

the statement.

And I am thinking, if I don't sign it,
they'll start the electricity again.

And so I signed some statement that was
in Spanish. I had no idea of what I was

signing.

I didn't realize then, but effectively,
my trial was over.

He said, now you are going to your new
home, the black...

Palace, Lakemberry, the dreaded prison
of Mexico

and thought to be the hardest prison by
far in North America.

I heard it was built for 800 people, but
now held 4 ,000.

Rumor had it that there were 200 murders
a year in Lakemberry.

You did your time or went out in a box
Immediately the

commandos put me on work detail The
commandos were other prisoners who

for the mayor of the dormitory They wore
white armband they

did the dirty work I

Had been in prison Three months.

And one day, there was a new American
prisoner really getting beaten up.

We jumped in and pulled off the
commando.

And then they began swinging at us.

The next thing I knew, there were guards
arching in.

The warden sees us, and he says to me,
you are castigado now, castigado, on

punishment detail.

They sent me to dorm A.

This was a dormitory of 400 prisoners.

who were recidivist murderers.

I am the only gringo in this door, and I
am panicked.

And they start going, money, we need
money, money, money.

I've got no money!

What are you doing?

Two guys grabbed each leg, and they bent
me over, and they kind of lifted me up

in the air.

Then I see a person, and in my position,
I can look down and I see he has

dropped his scores.

And I think, oh no, they're going to try
to rape me.

I start shrieking and kicking.

I am in complete panic.

He's moving up on me like a thick boar
in a rut.

And I am fighting like everything, and
he can't get close to me.

I manage to break an arm loose, and I
quickly reach back underneath him

and grab his testicles, and I hear him
scream.

I am holding and pulling, and he's
screaming, and everyone lets go

of me.

And I felt an arm going into my thigh.

I had my abdominal muscles cut through.

But I was lucky in that I hadn't any
organs punctured.

I would survive.

After recovering, they sent me back to
the maximum security dormitory O.

I led a hunger strike.

For 17 days, I did not eat anything.

I thought this could get enough
attention and get me deported to the

States, but it didn't happen.

They took me to the psychiatrist.

I had not eaten for several weeks.

I told them I did not want to eat.

You can't meet me.

We must begin the treatment then.

I said, what do you mean treatment?

And he said, I experienced a neural

panic.

They're going to take my mind away.

I could not suffer that possibility.

I saw some stale cookies.

And I started eating.

I've tasted better, but I'm eating,
right?

The hunger strike was finally over.

They won.

After nine months, they sent me to
Dormitory F.

I was able to pay $100 a month for
special privileges, and that included

a single cell.

I still hadn't come to trial, but it was
clear to me that I was going to do five

years anyhow.

I was starting to resign myself to the
long track of prison.

Then one day, I had a knock on the door.

My friend Stefan came to visit. And he
introduces his friend,

Barbara, to me.

And immediately we make eye contact.

I began talking about prison.

Barbara kept... looking at me.

I could not stop making eye contact with
her.

I thought, in another world, I would
like to find this person and know this

person better, but there was no sense
fantasizing about someone I could not be

with.

I figured I probably would never see her
again.

A few weeks later, I heard them
announce, I had letter.

And I didn't have one letter, I had
several letters that Barbara had

I began writing letters to her.

And we wrote and wrote and wrote.

I have never expressed myself more
fully.

The letters went on and on.

She was expressing herself, too, about
possibilities of life together.

And she wrote about her daughter,
Gabrielle.

Finally, she said, Would you mind if I
visited you again?

And I thought, This is great.

A few weeks later, she came to my cell
door.

We fell into each other's arms.

I felt a sense of joy and liberation.

I felt humane, warm, loving feelings
that I had not felt in years.

This woman was offering me a chance to
save my soul and my heart.

I felt alive again.

I loved this woman, and we agreed we
would spend our lives together.

But I could not see five more years of
this.

I could not bear the thought of her
going through that.

And I thought at some point I might lose
her just because it was too much.

And as the visits went on, we finally
talked about the

other alternative.

Barbara said she could escape from here.

The word about Lake and Berry is it was
unescapable.

Prisoners said that if the guards caught
you trying to escape, they killed you,

and that no one had escaped since Pancho
Villa did in 1912.

Barbara began formulating a plan.

She says, I think you can escape from
prison without women.

And we analyzed it. How could I get out
in drag?

Barbara was renting a room at a dear
friend's home who had a sewing machine.

She had my sizes cut out for me.

She would then smuggle in the clothes.

Where to hide the clothes?

Well, about the same time, I took some
kittens into my cell.

I took the dress and the blouse, and I
hid them as

lining for the cats.

glitter.

So when the guards did their periodic
searches, I would say, be

careful, don't hurt my gut deep.

But what about the other things, the
lipstick and the makeup?

One day, her daughter, Gabrielle, was in
my cell.

She's reeking of perfume.

And she pulled out of the top of her
bibs a partially opened vial of perfume.

At the same time, we had our eureka
moment.

We'll let Gabrielle smuggle in the
makeup.

Because if they searched her, well, all
little girls like to play dress -up,

don't they?

We had to bring in lipstick, foundation
makeup, eye shadow,

fingernail polish.

I hid them as best I could.

We could get the clothes in.

We could get the makeup in.

But the wig.

How did we get the wig in?

Barbara got a pillow and worked the wig
in with all of the foam stuff.

There was a method where people could
make deposits at the prison.

And she deposited the pillow at this
point.

We began formulating a plan.

I've been studying the system for
getting in and out of the prison.

Barbara knew a side of the prison I
would never see.

There were four checkpoints.

At the first checkpoint, she would get a
body search.

Then I go on to checkpoint two, here.

Here they would fill out a paper pass
and the guard signed his name.

These passes were made in eight
different colors.

They changed the colors randomly each
day.

I then go on to checkpoint three.

Here, I exchange the pass for a metal
tag.

These metal tags could be of four
different shapes.

The guard would write the number of the
metal tag onto the paper pass and file

it away and then give her that tag.

Then I go to checkpoint four, the double
gate, and I show the tag to get in the

dorm. When I leave the dorm, I have to
show the tag again.

At checkpoint three, she would present a
tag to the guard. He would go into his

file of paper receipts and find the one
that he had written that number on, and

he would hand it back to her.

At checkpoint two, I hand back the path
to the guard who built it up.

He would then confirm that was his
signature.

So we need perfect copies of the path in
all eight colors and we had a four

cigar signature.

From checkpoint two, she would go down a
ramp to the main gate

of the prison where two armed guards
stood.

She would then step out onto the street.

For me to escape from Leckenbury Prison,
this was the journey I would have to

make.

We took the metal tags and we did pencil
scrapings on paper.

We marked how thick it was. We observed
the type of metal.

We couldn't get a copy of the paper
pass.

But one day I was out, and I saw where
there had been a fire, and

I couldn't believe it.

Here was a stack of burned, semi
-burned, and unburned paper

passes.

This is my lucky day.

Now we had the template.

A few weeks later, Barbara returned
absolutely exuberant. I got everything

She had perfectly forged paper passes
and perfectly forged metal tags.

She brought the passes in in lining for
the book. Are you kidding me? And she

smuggled the tags in her sandals.

They had done a perfect job.

They are just incredible.

Now we had the metal tag.

And the paper passes.

But when do I walk out of my cell in
full drag in front of hundreds of

prisoners who have seen my face 20 times
a day for one year?

This was the most important probability
analysis project in my life.

We determined that every 42 days
conditions were optimal.

The next ideal day would be Wednesday,
December 17th, 1975.

But what was the right time to leave the
dorm?

We noticed that the moment 145 happened,
they blew the bugle and all the

commandos rushed to the door to check
the visitors leaving.

But in the few minutes before 145, there
were two commandos at the gate and

maybe a guard.

If I could leave my cell on Wednesday
between 1 .42 and 1 .45 p

.m., December 17th, we saw a window of
three minutes where there was a hole in

the system.

I had been in prison 21 months.

Barbara and I wanted to get married.

I love to this woman, but also Mexican
law states that wives could not be

charged with aiding escape, and this
would be protection for barbers.

We found an attorney in the prison. He
said, we're going to have a group

marriage, and we are going to have that
at 11 a .m. on December

17th.

17th? Our reactions were, oh, my God,
no.

That's our escape date.

We thought, well, this is it.

We're going to get married, and then
we're going to escape from prison.

Wednesday, December 17, 1975.

I know this was it.

I began plucking my eyebrows.

I shaved my legs.

And then I put toenail polish on.

This is a strange wedding.

I wait for her, 9 o 'clock, 9 .15, 9
.30.

It's almost 10 o 'clock when she comes
to the door.

She says, give me a piece of paper.

She begins writing the signature of the
guard who had filled out the paper pass

from memory.

She says, Then

we took the

correct color -coded card, and she
filled in all of the information,

his signature.

She shows me the metal tag that she has
with her right now.

And I find the one that matches
perfectly.

You are ready.

We wait for the 11 o 'clock call, too
nervous to do anything but just hold

other and intermittently cry.

We know what the stakes are.

11 .20.

11 .30.

If this goes on much longer, I will not
have time to come back to the cell and

do all of the necessary shaving and
foundation work.

Finally, at 11 .30, they call it.

But they separate.

I'm getting married.

For what reason, we don't know. No.

I am paranoid.

Why did they separate us?

Why? Huh? She looked at the gate.

I get to the wedding point before her,
and I think, oh, they know something.

They must know something. I'm truly
panicked.

But about ten minutes later, she comes
in.

And there's a number of other couples
getting married, and he lets us get

married first.

It's somewhat after 11 .30.

We signed papers. We signed this, this,
and this. And we turned to each other.

You may now kiss.

And we kissed.

More in panic than in joy.

But at least now I knew that she had
legal protection if they caught me.

He and I were separated at that point.

This was do or die.

I went into my cell with my heart
pounding, double locked the door,

and I quickly shaved and double shaved.
I did it again and again.

Then I put foundation makeup on.

I put eyeliner on.

I put everything on.

I look at myself and I think I look
garishly like a transvestite.

Time was moving. I had 30 more minutes.

I put my bra on and stuffed it with
socks.

Then I took a foam pad that I had cut
out and I sculpted it over my ass.

To give me more of the bell shape, in
the middle of this, there's a knock on

door.

My heart froze.

The guard said, who went to see the
kitty cat?

If he comes in, I'm clearly dead.

And I shot out. No busy gun you got.

It's my marriage day.

Conjugal visit. Get out of here. Have
you no respect.

And tell everyone to stay away from
myself.

And I hear someone say, oh, I'm sorry.

And then they left.

I put the skirt on.

And then I cut open my pillow and I pull
out the wig.

It's the first time I've ever seen it.

I put it on.

We had large sunglasses just covered my
face up in a legitimate

way. I was amazed at how much more I
looked like a woman.

I think, my God, this can work.

It's 140.

I am all dressed. I have everything.

I have my metal tag.

And my paper passed.

I have to be out of the dorm by 1 .45.

I look out the

door, and there's Maru.

I had beaten Maru up badly months
before, and he still hated me for it.

I closed the door, and I think, no, no,
no.

What are you doing in front of myself?

I knew when I opened that door and
walked out, I would never be in this

again.

It was only would I be alive and free or
would I be dead.

I walked out the door.

Maru looked me straight in the eye.

He had to know.

He didn't say a word.

I got to the stairway.

And I walked thinking, low center of
gravity. You are a woman. You are a

I kept repeating this to myself.

Checkpoint four. There were two
commandos.

I held my metal tag up.

The guy's narrowly looked at.

I walked through.

Checkpoint three.

This was where I exchanged the metal tag
for the paper path.

The most difficult checkpoint.

Right at this time, the bugle blew.

This meant that all of the pesetas had
to leave immediately.

What I had to do now was stall and wait
for a crowd.

I am paranoid at this point.

I fumbled around in my purse and acted
like I was looking for something.

I expected any moment for commandos to
come rushing after me, grab me, and drag

me back into the dorm.

I looked at my watch. It was 1 .53,
eight minutes after the bugle had blown.

This eight minutes had seemed like a
lifetime.

Guards were very busy now, switching.

to tag for the passes.

This was it.

Now or never.

There were women in front of me,
fighting, trying to get ahead and

their tags for a pass.

I turned toward one of the guards.

I pulled out my paper pass.

I held my pass in the air for the guard
to see, but he was so busy, he

didn't pay attention to me.

I was past checkpoint three.

I am now in a part of the prison I have
never seen before, where all prisoners

are forbidden.

I had rehearsed this a hundred times in
my mind.

But now it was happening.

Checkpoint two.

I entered dream state at this point.
Everything was in slow motion.

Everything was eerie.

I took the forged path.

And I showed the guard his forged
signature.

If he saw the forgery, he would most
likely kill me.

It was do or die.

He stared at it longer than he did the
others.

Rather than wait for his verdict, I kept
walking.

And I thought, phew.

Ahead of me, checkpoint one.

There were two guards.

One of the guards went like this.

And he reached over to touch my foam
-padded ass.

I put my handbag in between me and his
hand.

I was on the street.

There were a number of other armed
guards.

I walked on away from the prison.

If they knew, now they would shoot me in
the back.

I kept walking.

And ahead, I saw a taxi.

No gunshots.

No one chasing after me. I dared not
look back.

There was a woman in the back seat.

The angel who had saved my life.

No one had escaped from Lake and Berry
since 1912.

Both of us were so awestruck It had
actually happened

I had done it

What

have I learned from this that A
meaningful life is worth far more

than quick riches.

I can honestly say that in the 30 plus
years that I have been free, I have

woken up and not been thankful for the

freedom and the life that Barbara saved
for me.

Banged Up Abroad is back next Wednesday
at 9.

Stay tuned for brand new Doomsday
Preppers. This is the new face of

Geographic Channel.