“When I see a prison, I ache,” medical doctor and humanitarian Patch Adams commented during a recent visit to San Quentin. “I see massive inequality and massive injustice.”
Adams visited San Quentin during the last week of March as part of the Arts and Corrections Program. He talked with staff and inmates about his mission supporting free global health care as well as enlightening the prison community on societal compassion.
Hunter Campbell “Patch” Adams is a world-renowned speaker who has spent a large portion of his life as a true humanitarian. His inspiring life story was the basis for the Hollywood movie “Patch Adams,” starring Robin Williams.
Adams was born May 28, 1945 in Washington, D.C., the son of a military professional. He spent most of his childhood growing up around the world.
“I grew up overseas on Army bases,” said Adams. “I was orphaned in 1961.”
After his father was killed in the Vietnam War, Adams moved back to the states where he describes being beat up by his peers and falling into a state of depression, leading him to hospitalization for two suicide attempts.
“At 18, I decided that I’m never going to have a bad day,” said Adams.
He attended the Medical College of Virginia where he earned his Doctor of Medicine degree in 1971. After graduation, Adams and some close friends founded the Gesundheit Institute in West Virginia, part of his dream to offer free medical treatment to anyone in need. The hospital, which according to Adam’s web site has served over 15,000 patients, has no support from health care insurance and doctors do not have malpractice insurance.
“One-fourth of the $2 trillion American medical budget goes to administration costs,” said Adams, who humbly takes pride in his career in helping others free of charge. “For 38 years, I have paid to be a doctor.”
Part of Adams larger-than-life character is what he calls “healing through humor.”
Adams, who considers himself a clown, bounced through the corridors of San Quentin sporting red clown pants, a blue and purple shirt and his hair pulled back in a waist length blue streaked pony tail.
“Put me on the yard, they’re not ready for me,” said Adams while holding what can only be called the world’s largest pair of underwear.
During his visit, his silliness infected every prisoner who crossed paths with Adams. If a prisoner didn’t initially think he was funny, he pulled out a slew of props including a dental cheek spreader and a nasty looking green booger which he hung from his nose. His props, vivacious personality, accompanied with hilariously funny faces, seemingly melted away the stress of prison from his audience of men in blue prison uniforms.
Silliness aside, Adams is a self-proclaimed liberalist and advocate for prison reform, a very forgiving position from a man whose best friend was murdered by one of his patients in the late 1960s.
Asked about what he thinks of San Quentin, he replied: “I didn’t see any criminals. I don’t even know what criminals look like. I saw a bunch of men with an over-abundance of time.”