My name is Thomas Moen. I am 58 years old. I have two daughters, six grandchildren, and one great grandchild. I also have two dogs that I love taking on walks, and I enjoy spending time playing with my grandkids. Family and the simple things in life mean everything to me now, but it was not always this way.
When COVID hit, I was 52 years old and began a long sentence at the Correctional Facility in Newton, Iowa. I had spent most of my life addicted to drugs, and I honestly did not know who I was anymore. At first, the prison almost felt peaceful. I walked every day and started to feel healthier. Then COVID reached the prison and everything changed.
We were locked inside for weeks at a time. No yard. No sunshine. Very little food. When they tested us, they told me I had COVID even though I felt fine. I was placed in quarantine with almost no medical care. A doctor would walk by to do a check once a day and that was it.
My body started to break down. Working long hours in the kitchen destroyed my knees, and I ended up in a wheelchair. Medical staff barely paid attention. I developed a tooth infection so bad that my face swelled up, and still no one helped me. Another inmate ended up saving me with the antibiotics he had hidden.
The prison itself was falling apart. There were mold, mice, roaches, and leaking pipes everywhere. Some guards made life harder just because they could. I quit drugs during all of this, but I still had to survive, so I sold tobacco. That was how I got by.
One day I made a joke that got twisted into an accusation that I was selling K2. I was sent to another prison. When I came back to CRC, things were even harder. But something inside me began to change. I was tired of hurting. I was tired of being angry. I was tired of the life I had been living.
When I finally paroled, I moved in with my daughter and promised myself I would never go back. I have kept that promise. I have been clean for seven years now. I got my driver’s license for the first time in twenty-five years. I got my own place. I rebuilt my relationships with my family.
I started going to church, and now I say the opening prayer every Sunday. I went back to school and earned a perfect GPA. I even received an award from the president of DMACC. My life today looks like nothing like it used to.
I tell my story because I want people to hear something real.
There is hope after drugs.
There is hope after prison.
There is hope after pain.
And if there is hope for me, there is hope for anyone.
