Morton Sobell’s On Doing Time

## Morton Sobell’s On Doing Time *February 5th, 2007* A few weeks back I received a letter from Alex Clemens at [Barbary Coast Consulting](https://www.barbcoast.com/). He wrote to express his support, but also to share the story of his step-grandfather, Morton Sobell, who stood trial with Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, for *conspiracy to commit espionage*. Sobell was found guilty but was spared the state-sanctioned murder that befell the Rosenbergs. He was sentenced to 30 years and was freed in 1964 after spending more than 18 years in prison. After his release, Sobell wrote [On Doing Time](https://www.amazon.com/Doing-Time-Morton-Sobell/dp/1883869536/sr=1-1/qid=1170665454/ref=pd_bbs_1/002-9221645-8793654?ie=UTF8&s=books), which Alex Clemens recently sent to me. The book documents his entire experience from beginning to end with stunning clarity, and he details the ordeal with raw emotions that deliver a visceral impact. Although my plight is insignificant in comparison, I empathized with a number of passages in the book. One passage stood out in particular. Sometime during the last period on the Rock, I began to play a little game with myself (one of many). I would ask myself, did I have to be different? Why couldn’t I be like everyone else? And save myself a lot of headaches and heartaches. I would allow myself the luxury of yearning to have been born a conformist of conformist parents, and not to be burdened with all these nuisance problems. I would have such an overwhelming desire to be like every other middle-class American that I figuratively bathed myself in the desire. Then I would begin at the beginning and explain to myself how it was that was how I was, how I became what I am, and how meaningless life would be for me if I had chosen any other path but the one I did. I, Martin Sobell, was doomed by whatever gods there were to go on playing the part as long as I lived, or until I saw a different light. Then I began to feel weary of playing this role, and I wanted so much for the play to end., so I could start all over again. And yet, I knew that even if I had the opportunity, I would probably play the same role, even if I knew what the consequences would be. This was me, this was the only role in which I felt comfortable inside myself. Oh yes, here and there I might have acted more cleverly, as hindsight indicated, but my fundamental moves would have remained essentially the same. I was content that I had not soiled myself at any time throughout the ordeal. This would have indeed made life unlivable for me. But I could yearn for that other life, a little. It didn’t cost me anything, and I knew that there was no danger that I might go astray. Entry Filed under: [Posts from Prison](https://joshwolf.net/blog/?cat=3)