Someone just told me, after reading my last blog entry, that he felt he knew all about my vacation.

Well, almost, but I omitted the fact that we took this 2,000 mile journey in a 1977 VW camper bus with orange flames painted on the side. Or that on the weekend that we left, Hurricane Hannah - by then downgraded to a tropical storm - had arrived, and it was a race to catch the last ferry out. The majority of us scrambled to get our cars and belongings out before all travel was canceled.

In St. John, on the mainland, many roads were flooded and some bridges were even down. Talk about excitement, more than I needed, but Mother Nature never counts her losses, she just keeps rolling. And frankly, as they say, nature is red in tooth and claw, but it's all impersonal.

That's not like the other kinds of teeth and claws I see on the Hill. I was dumbstruck today as I was driving by the county jail. I stopped to let a young girl and her baby in a stroller cross the street, and there standing in the doorway, at the visitor's door, holding open the door, was a small child. A little girl, maybe 3 years old, holding open a door to a jail and waiting for her mom and siblings to cross the street and come in.

This was not your usual Kodak moment, but for me, my mind went click and it left me with an imprint on my retina I will never be able to erase, one of those slow motion dramas that leave you shaken and disturbed.

I would like to know how many of our children grow up visiting their relatives and family friends, in jail. And why do we think it is OK? This is not a place for children to go on a regular basis.

You know those "Scared Straight" programs, where kids go through the prison system? This is supposed to frighten them enough to make them straighten up and fly right. Obviously, it's a misnomer.

Our street kids grow up going to jail. We all say, "but their daddy [or their mommy or their brother or whoever], this is what we do on Sunday or Tuesday or any other day, we go to jail and take our children."

And are they scared? Hardly. I would like to see some kind of study done on the adult lifes of these children. Something meaningful with teeth. I know quite a few kids who visited family and friends in jail simply as a matter of course. These kids grew up to fight and deal drugs and finally go to jail for themselves.

We all know that children who watch their fathers beat their mothers will grow up to beat their own spouses. They believe intrinsically that hitting someone you love is all right, normal, correct behavior. Some new findings are saying that later in life, when they care for their abused parent in old age, they will also physically hurt them. We don't know yet quite why this happens, but it does and it is a sad commentary on family and society.

I know I'll probably take some flak for this viewpoint, but I don't feel that a jail or prison is a good place for children. There is such a thing as supervised visitation. Why not take families to some place outside of jail, a safe and secure spot but away from the actual prison setting, for a supervised outing.

Frankly, I think parents need to forfeit some rights for the mental health and safety of their kids. I get so tired of hearing people urging their sons not to be sissies, "Be a man," they say to a 3-year-old child. Maybe to be a man means walking away, leaving the scene, not fighting. Remember the word "dignity"? Maybe that word should replace "respect" as an ideal state of mind.

I am constantly breaking up squabbles at Quest, and I hope I'm training the kids to do the same. Stop those quarrels, no play-fighting, because there is no such thing as play-fighting? "I can't stay hit?" the kids say - just what the hell does that mean?

Parents who come screaming to me that they are going to smash up this one or that one are teaching wonderful things to their children. The man (or woman) who can turn and walk away from violence is a man (or woman) of dignity and honor.

Remember Ghandi? Remember Martin Luther King Jr.? They preached and lived non-violence. They changed the course of two nations. They left legacies of peace which go far beyond those of warrior's, legacies of hate and retribution.

When prisons become what children know as a normal part of life, what does life as they know it become? Don't call me if you don't want to negotiate a truce. Don't call me if you wave a gun in my face or threaten to press charges.

Look to yourself. All kids push and shove, it is part of being a mammal. Watch young puppies tussle. Mama dog doesn't care who started what, she comes down on all her offspring. She tolerates no back talk.

I will say it again. To stop violence, you have to really stop violence. For real. Yesterday, I watched a 2 year old going around to a group of kids and sticking his little face in everybody's and screaming at them and shaking his tiny fist. He was imitating his mother. People were laughing and saying "How cute." But was it?

Fast forward 10 years. A 12 year old shaking his fist and screaming nose to nose with others is not cute; it's violent. And where was it learned? At home, with his family. As ingrained as walking and talking.

I stand here (actually I'm sitting because I'm writing.) and say "Enough!" Before we kick the dog, smack the kid, punch the spouse, smash the window, stop. Go for a walk, meditate in a corner, call a friend. Because someone is watching, someone somewhere is learning from you, learning now to behave when they grow up. Show them how real men and real women conquer all.

Use your head, brothers. Show your dignity, sisters. Leave a legacy to be proud of. Here's a new word - "restraint". Pass it on.