I PLUNKED MY keys and cellphone into the plastic tray. Two windowless metal doors separated us from the outside world. A third interior door was unbolted, and Lt. Chris Cook, the director of the Moral Reconation Therapy (MRT) program, invited us deeper into the bowels of the Bedford County Jail. I had never been inside a jail before. But the volunteers who carried bags stuffed with colorful yarn willingly spend every Wednesday morning here teaching women in the MRT program how to crochet.
The MRT program at the Bedford County Jail is a 16-step, structured cognitive-behavioral treatment program that teaches valuable life skills. Students are taught to understand the “why” behind past behaviors, to make personal growth an important part of recovery, and to take accountability for their actions — both past and present. Not everyone is selected to participate, but those who do count it a privilege. In addition to learning how to garden or crochet a blanket, members can join a writing class and a book club — all made possible by volunteers.
Another door opened, and we were ushered into a ladies’ “pod” that houses 23 inmates. Bath towels were draped over the second-story banister, and several picnic tables dotted the first floor. Pay phones and video phones lined one wall. The entire space was void of decorations except for multicolored crocheted blankets neatly folded on each of the ladies’ beds. These made the drab space feel welcoming.
We dragged metal chairs to the edge of the vegetable garden because the weather outside was the perfect backdrop for the crochet class. Buds were just beginning to form on the fruit trees for their forestry project, and their greenhouse was stuffed with tiny plants. All of the MRT ladies were abuzz about their newest addition to their garden — the beehives.
The MRT program began in April 2022 under the guidance of Ronnie Prince, Bedford County Jail administrator, and Lt. Cook, the MRT program director. Since this time, 220 men and women have joined. This program has been so successful that of those who participated, only 4.5% have been reincarcerated.
I was reminded of show-and-tell as the class began. “Look at this, ladies. Notice how neat she made the stitches? She has really improved since last week,” a volunteer said while parading each shawl, baby blanket, or item around the circle. With each “ooh” and “ahh,” the shoulders of the lady whose work was being presented straightened. Threads of shame were visibly erased as each lady realized that something they had done — something they had created — was valued. They were valued.
After everyone’s work was passed around, each volunteer settled into chairs beside the MRT ladies. Reminiscent of the old-time sewing circles our ancestors attended, the older ladies mentored and ministered to the younger ones. Questions were asked — and answered — about granny squares and Suzette stitches, but hard conversations also poured out freely.
Stitch by stitch, little by little, several in our little crochet circle revealed past struggles. One of the ladies said, “When I joined the MRT crochet class, I was angry. I had given up on life and was even homeless before I came to jail. As I crochet items for others who are cold, like I once was, it helps me find healing. It feels good to make something with my hands and pass it down to brighten someone’s day.”
Another lady sitting nearby raised the striped quilt she had been working on. With tears clouding her brown eyes, she said, “What better way to show remorse than to be able to give back to our community we once weren’t so kind to?”
They have donated blankets, hats, scarves, and mittens to the Shelbyville Soup Kitchen and other local organizations.
This crochet class began in February 2025, and by August, the volunteers had persuaded the ladies to display their items at The Fly Arts Center the following February. Many of the ladies didn’t believe their crocheted items could be considered art, so they were delighted by the feedback they have since received. According to The Fly, the February Muse & Mingle had the largest attendance of past shows. The items remained on display through March, and afterward, they donated everything to local charities. Because of the success of The Fly, many of the ladies plan to enter their crocheted items into the Bedford County Fair.
It was easy to see that this crochet class has united these ladies into a “sisterhood.” They shared donated yarn and patterns and taught each other new stitches. Two hours later, as we walked back through those heavy doors, I carried with me the quiet truth that hope really can thrive anywhere — even inside a jail.
The volunteers who teach crochet are Susie Kentfield, Linda Rucker, and Cindi Lindsey, who are retired educators; Carol Magnuson, a retired pediatrician; Andrea Moore, a retired surgical nurse; Ann Threet, who worked at the election office in Rutherford County; and Pat Bingham, “Peanut Butter,” also known as the “Quilting Guru of Bell Buckle.”
Regarding the program, Kentfield said, “I was ‘hooked’ after my first visit, and I don’t even crochet. But I found a sisterhood of women in need of good news. I’ve become their ‘encourager’ through books, chats, hugs, and conversations. My connection to MRT feeds my soul and brings hope to those in such great need. The skills we developed as educators are the skills we are using to help these ladies in jail.”
Rucker said, “We all have a past — we can’t change it, but we can change our path to the future. The women of MRT have made the decision to change their path. It is such a blessing to me to be a part of their journey.”
The village created by the MRT program is a safety net that extends past the iron bars. Not only do these ladies have each other while on the inside, but they have new friends rooting for them on the outside, too. GN
