03/04/2026
Earlier this week I got a text from a prominent local businessman who owns a well-known regional shoe company.
Over the past year, our paths have crossed many times through nonprofit work and community projects. In the early days of Yarden Bridge work, when things were not always easy to get moving, he was one of the people who encouraged me and helped open a few doors along the way.
He asked if I happened to be heading into the Blair County Prison anytime soon and then added his son to the group text.
I already knew a little about his son. He runs a construction business and has made a habit of helping men who are trying to get their lives back on track, men who often live on the periphery.
A young man named Hunter at the Blair County Prison had asked if someone could bring him a Bible.
People imagine something like that is simple. You walk in, hand someone a Bible, and that’s the end of it.
Inside a county jail nothing works that cleanly. Everything depends on timing, correctional officers, whether a cell block is locked down, movement schedules, and a lot of uncertainty.
The best strategy I have found is simple.
Pray. Write the name down. Bring an extra Bible anyway. See what happens.
Tonight I walked in with my usual twelve-pound duffelbag. It’s full of Bibles, small notebooks, and loose papers. I never know who might ask for one.
On the way to the chapel you really only pass one cell block.
G Block.
A few months ago the glass in the block window broke and it still hasn’t been replaced. Now it’s just a cage window with a fan zip-tied to the bars, probably so the smell from inside doesn’t drift into the hallway.
I stopped there and asked through the opening, “Is Hunter in there?”
Someone inside said yeah.
A young man walked over.
I asked if he knew the person who had asked me to bring him a Bible.
He paused for a second, thinking.
Then he nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” I said. “He asked me to bring you one.”
One of the correctional officers let them out of their block and over to the chapel. It’s really just the next room down the hall.
I had brought an extra Bible for Hunter, but I didn’t know his friend or cellmate would be coming too.
That night I happened to bring three Bibles.
I usually bring two.
I handed one to Hunter and one to the man who came with him, along with a couple small notebooks.
Then we finished getting the room ready.
The chapel at the Blair County Prison is really just a room next to the block. Pastor Bill Ewing from Calvary Tyrone comes in every other week. On the other weeks my friend Jim and I lead the study and see who shows up.
That night only two men came over from G Block.
Hunter was one of them.
The rest of the group were the usual guys who attend most weeks. Many of them are housed in the gym, where around eighty men sleep in one open room with a single bathroom.
They make the room easy for new guys. They break the ice right away. There’s conversation, questions, sometimes debate.
Hunter stayed quiet, but he was listening closely.
That night we spent the evening reading through John chapter 20 together.
Afterward Hunter thanked me and asked if I could pass along a message.
“Tell him thank you for thinking of me.”
Later I sent a message back explaining what had happened.
It sounds simple when you write it down.
But inside a jail most things don’t happen in straight lines.
