
By Robert King Indy Star
CARLISLE, Ind. — For most of the men of cell house N, the quarter-mile walk around the prison yard to the chow hall and back is just the price they pay for breakfast. The heavy steel doors open, and they surge forward into the predawn gloom, compelled by hunger.
For Colt Lundy, the push into the brisk morning air is driven as much by other things — the chance to move freely, to leave the confines of a cell the size of a walk-in closet, to breathe air that hasn’t been recirculated among hundreds of caged men.
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