They meet bright and early -- 8 a.m. -- in the venerable offices in front of the idle Holmesburg Prison.

The one-time warden's residence now serves as the training academy for the Philadelphia Prison System, where the men and women holding the keys to the city jails learn their trade.

During the eight-week training program, they also must decide whether they're cut out for the job. After all, it takes a special person to keep law-abiding citizens safe from the incarcerated, and to keep the inmates safe from each other.

And when the time comes to find new people to fill open positions within the prison system, a handful of training academy graduates are called back to the hallowed halls of the 104-year-old prison building.

They meet at 8, plan their pitches, then venture out into the community, armed only with clipboards, applications and their own salesmanship. Their task is to find potential corrections officers.

According to prison system figures, there are more than 1,500 officers on the force and 6,700 inmates in the system, a ratio of about 4-1/2 to 1. Six years ago, the ratio was 4,800 to 1,300, or less than 4 to 1. With the natural steady attrition in their ranks and the planned construction of a new women's detention facility (scheduled for completion by the spring of 2002), prison system officials plan to hire close to 200 new officers in the next year.

For the recruitment team, one of the main challenges is overcoming a not-always-flattering public perception of their profession.

"The image we're trying to project is a professional law-enforcement officer," said Lt. Michael Cruz, a training academy supervisor and head of recruitment.

"The perception is we're not a part of law enforcement. But our priority is public safety. We're making sure (inmates) are not going anywhere and we're also making them aware of the programs that are available to them."

what about the danger?

Cruz and the other recruitment officers -- who began their current outreach effort on Nov. 13, and will continue to accept applications through Dec. 29 -- characterize the profession as stressful but full of opportunity.

Like jobs with other law-enforcement agencies, the potential for danger is always there. But in some ways, they contend, it's safer being a prison officer than a police officer, even with about 6,700 convicts or accused criminals filling the four primary prisons in the system, all located along State Road in Holmesburg.

"We know who we're dealing with here," Cruz told the Northeast Times during one of those early-morning meetings last week. "But when a police officer goes out into the community, they don't know who's who."

None of the Philadelphia prisons are long-term holding facilities. Some inmates are assigned there while awaiting trial. The others are there to serve sentences of two years or less. According to Cruz, inmates are assigned to a facility based on the nature of their crimes or alleged crimes.

On the inside, prison officers don't carry guns. Instead, they rely on communication with inmates, and mutual respect. Essentially, they say, it matters who you are more than what you carry.

"We don't carry any weapons inside for obvious reasons," Cruz said. "One thing we do have is the ability to communicate effectively.

"Officers develop a certain relationship with the inmate population. (Inmates) rely on corrections officers for all of their needs, like three meals a day and a secure environment. We are service providers. We have to be consistent with services and we have to provide them across the board."

To foster the necessary understanding between a diverse base of inmates and the officers, the prison system actively seeks diversity in its ranks. Cruz describes the prison workforce as the most ethnically diverse in the city. That diversity is represented on the recruitment team, too. The team includes officers of African- American, Latino, Asian, Eastern European and Western European descent.

It also includes women. In fact, just like the prison workforce at-large, the recruitment team is more than half women. There are 800 to 900 female corrections officers in all.

Respect means a lot

One of them, Sgt. Latanya Stephenson, a nine-year veteran, believes that her gender is actually an advantage in her job.

"At times, it's a benefit to be a woman and work in a men's facility," she said. "I'm not a threat to them.

They'll follow my orders because they don't feel they have anything to prove to me. I give respect and I demand respect in return."

"It's the golden rule," said Officer John Boston. "Jails run on respect."

Unfortunately, whether it's a male or female officer giving the orders, that mutual respect sometimes falls by the wayside. Physical conflicts are a fact of life in jail. The vast majority of times, however, it's inmate against inmate, the officers say.

Luckily, it doesn't happen as often as often portrayed in the media. According to Boston, television programs like the HBO series Oz and movies like Animal Factory (which was filmed in the Philadelphia prisons) or Con-Air tend to exaggerate the frequency of real altercations.

A comparison can be drawn to the way the TV show Cops portrays police work, he thinks.

"They take a whole year's worth of incidents and boil it down to one show," Boston said. "If people have no (firsthand) idea of what it's like, they believe that."

When a fight breaks out, it's the duty of the corrections officers to break it up. Officers are taught various physical techniques to restore peace, but rarely have to use them.

"Most of the time, just by an officer's presence, the inmate stops," Cruz said.

"It's like in a boxing match or a wrestling match," Boston said. "In the first few seconds, one person usually knows they're going to lose and one knows they're going to win. Then they're glad we're breaking it up."

some valuable lessons

From Day One of training, Cruz explained, officers are taught how to handle whatever the job might throw at them. The regimen includes classes on communication, diversity, firearms, first aid and CPR, legal issues, physical training, how inmate classification works and how to transport prisoners. The starting annual salary for officers is $27,485.

The prison academy is staffed by 12 training officers and three sergeants. Maj. Judy Rushhold is the commanding officer.

But before officer candidates even get to the training phase, they must have certain qualifications and pass several exams. An individual must be a high school graduate or hold a GED, and must be at least 20 at the time of appointment.

The written exam is followed by other tests, including a physical exam, a psychological exam, urinalysis and lie-detector test. Candidates must pass a criminal history check and a background investigation. A Pennsylvania driver's license also is required.

For the majority of applicants, the hurdles are too much to overcome. From a pool of about 10,000 applications, the numbers dwindle rapidly.

"From my experience, we lose fifty percent right off the bat," Cruz said. "Then a certain amount will not successfully complete the written portion. As we go down the process, we'll start losing (at) each step."

"Getting the application is the easy part."

An application for corrections officer can be obtained at the city's recruitment center in the lobby of the Municipal Services Building, 1401 J.F.K. Blvd.Ý