Shawshank
Redemption

Good morning, inmates. Your daily scripture: "His judgment cometh and that right soon." — Proverbs. I trust you will reflect on this today. Also: no talking during meals, no contraband, and salvation lies within.

New fish today. Tall, quiet guy. Banker type. Doesn't look like he belongs here. None of us do, of course. That's what we all say.

I bet you a pack of cigarettes the new fish cries tonight. Fat one in the back. Easy money.

I'll take the tall one. The banker. He'll be the first.

I lost. The banker didn't make a sound. Not one sound. First time I ever lost that bet. Cost me two packs.

Posted in #hobby-supplies: Hey @Red, I hear you're the guy who can get things. I was wondering if you could get me a rock hammer. Small one. For shaping rocks. I like geology. It's a hobby.

A rock hammer? Sure thing. Tiny little thing. Took me a minute to figure out what you wanted it for. Making chess pieces? Man would need about 600 years to tunnel out with one of these. I thought that was pretty funny at the time.

Posted in #hobby-supplies: @Red, one more thing. Could you get me a large poster? Rita Hayworth, if possible. For my cell wall. I just like looking at something beautiful. That's all.

Daily scripture: "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness." — John 8:12. Also, anyone caught with contraband will spend a week in solitary. God bless.

I've started writing letters to the State Senate requesting funding for the prison library. One letter per week. They haven't responded. I'll keep writing.

Andy, nobody reads those letters. The state doesn't care about us.

Then I'll write two letters a week.

Posted in #guard-lounge: Just inherited $35,000 from my brother. Uncle Sam's going to take most of it. Makes me sick.

Captain Hadley, do you trust your wife? Because if you set up a one-time gift to your spouse, the IRS allows you to gift up to $60,000 tax-free. You'd keep every penny. All I'd need is a few forms and three beers apiece for me and my coworkers.

And that's how we ended up tarring the plate factory roof in the May sun, drinking ice cold beer courtesy of the hardest screw that ever walked a turn at Shawshank. We sat and drank and felt like free men.

Mr. Dufresne. I have some... financial matters I need handled discreetly. Very discreetly. Certain funds from the prison work programs need to be... redirected. You understand. This conversation never happened.

Of course, Warden. I'll set up accounts under the name Randall Stephens. A man who exists only on paper. Completely untraceable.

Only took six years. Now I'll write two letters a week and ask for more.

They're releasing me. After 50 years. I don't want to go. The world out there... I don't know it anymore. These walls are all I know. I've been in here so long I've become an institution. I can't make it out there.

Dear fellas. I can't believe how fast things move on the outside. I saw an automobile once when I was a kid, but now they're everywhere. The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry. The parole board got me into a halfway house. I don't like it here. I'm tired of being afraid all the time.

Brooks was right. These walls are funny. First you hate them. Then you get used to them. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That's institutionalized.

Posted in #hobby-supplies: @Red, I need an updated poster. Raquel Welch this time. Rita Hayworth is getting a bit dated.

Sure. Third poster in 16 years. Man just likes looking at pretty women on his wall. Nothing strange about that.

Locked the door to the Warden's office. Plugged in the PA system. Playing Mozart's Marriage of Figaro for the entire yard. The Duettino. Everyone stopped. Every last man in Shawshank felt free for a brief moment.

TWO WEEKS IN THE HOLE.

Easiest time I ever did. I had Mozart in my head. They can't take that from you. There are places in the world that aren't made out of stone. There's something inside that they can't touch. That's yours.

Hope? Let me tell you something, my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane. It's got no use on the inside.

Hope is a good thing, Red. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.

Red, if you ever get out of here, do me a favor. There's a hayfield up near Buxton. A long rock wall with a big oak tree. Find a rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. There'll be something buried under it. Something for you.

Andy, what are you talking about? You're being weird. Weirder than usual.

Remember, Red. Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well. Your friend, Andy.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE LEFT THE WORKSPACE. CHECK HIS CELL. CHECK HIS CELL NOW.

Sir... his cell is empty. There's a hole in the wall. Behind the poster. The Raquel Welch poster. He... he dug a tunnel. With the rock hammer. Through the wall. Through the sewage pipe. He's gone.

BUT THE POSTER. I LOOKED AT THAT POSTER EVERY TIME I INSPECTED HIS CELL. FOR NINETEEN YEARS.

Andy crawled to freedom through 500 yards of sewage pipe. 500 yards. That's the length of five football fields. Just shy of half a mile. I remember thinking it would take a man 600 years to tunnel through the wall with a rock hammer. It took Andy less than 20.

No. No no no no no no NO.

Wait. He asked for the rock hammer in 1948. He asked for the poster in 1949. He's been digging for NINETEEN YEARS? And NOBODY checked behind the poster? Not ONCE?

He put the rock dust in his pockets and scattered it in the yard during exercise. Every day. For nineteen years. During every walk. Right under our noses. Right under everyone's noses. Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of filth and came out clean on the other side.

I found it. Under the rock. A letter and some cash. Andy wants me to come to Zihuatanejo. A little place in Mexico on the Pacific Ocean. A place with no memory. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.