JACKSONVILLE, FL -- Wild parties on state property, favoritism shown to friends and family members for jobs and promotions, that is how James McDonough says the iron triangle used to operate.

The iron triangle is a place where on both sides of State Road 16 a handful of prisons meet.

Behind the razor wire, "Everybody likes to use the phrase good ole boys club. That's what it is out there and they protect one another. There is a code of silence," says one former correctional officer who does not want to be identified.

The man was once a correctional officer at Florida State Prison. He says for years, what went on inside the iron triangle was kept a secret, that is until now.

"It's kept me on my toes. A couple of times, it's reminded me of being on patrol in Vietnam, says Department of Corrections Secretary, James McDonough.

The good ole boys club code of silence has been broken by McDonough, who is a retired Army Colonel and was Florida's drug czar. "There was a degree of good ole boyism that was negative and destructive," says McDonough.

McDonough is now the one responsible for cleaning up the iron triangle and the more than 100 other prison facilities in the Florida Department of Corrections.

"That sort of state of crisis that we were in in February 2006, I think has passed, and I'm watching over time to make sure we are not kidding ourselves; but I am here to reassure you, that I think it's passed," says McDonough.

On this particular summer day, McDonough gets a first hand look at how things are changing inside the iron triangle. His tour is part of his plan to keep an eye on the system.

A system that has had it's share of problems. In November 2005, the First Coast News I-team uncovered a secret city, where thousands of homes line state property.

Taxpayers shell out more than 23 million dollars a year in insurance on the houses. Taxpayers also foot some of the water and electric bills.

Only certain people are allowed to live on state property. The DOC outlines it is critical staff that has to respond in an emergency, everyone from correctional officers to wardens and superintendents.

First Coast News found Sherri Starling. "I'm a secretary, "says Starling. She is not on the priority list of people who are allowed to live in staff housing.

After seeing what the First Coast News I-team uncovered, McDonough says staff housing became his priority. "In all honesty, I've looked at it, I'm content that with a few exceptions housing is in good shape," says McDonough.

Starling is still in her home, she is one of the exceptions. She is divorced from a correctional officer who was allowed to live on state property. "There are some that technically should not be there at the moment, but because of the conditions within the family by which they ended up there, I don't have the heart to say get out of here."

When asked if he's checked out each and every case McDonough says, "I have and I am not a softee." McDonough says eventually they will have to go.

He's already removed some who should not have been in the homes or in their jobs. Since early February 2006, when he took the job, McDonough has fired or forced retirements of more than 40 key upper level corrections workers.

People, he says, that were part of a network of problems. Some problems were illegal and the First Coast News I-team uncovered them thanks to the help of correctional workers like, Mark a high ranking corrections worker.

"If you were having problems with your tv, carry it out to the institution and get a convict to fix it. Inmates are not to be used, not to be used to work on personal property, not for personal gain," says Mark.

The I-team uncovered several state investigations which looked into allegations of the use of inmates to refurbish homes.

The investigations detail some inmates added cabinets, even a bar to a high ranking official's house.

According to the investigation, the remodeling was done with equipment that belonged to the state as well as state supplies and money.

"I am aware of occasions where that has happened and every case where that has happened that person is no longer with us," says McDonough.

First Coast News also uncovered the forging of work rosters. The I-team asked the DOC for copies, we got them and we also got TJ, a correctional officer who says the work rolls don't add up.

"You go into work and you're shift is short, but you're roster shows you have people on your shift even though those people don't exist on your shift. You go lock yourself in the officers station and don't come out of it," says TJ.

McDonough responds, "I do believe based on what I've seen that there were people that were on work rolls that weren't working. In other words they were supposed to be on a shift and they weren't on a shift. Can I prove that in court, probably not, do I suspect that's so, yes, I do. Do I think that's still happening, no, I do not," says McDonough.

In less than six months, McDonough has turned the DOC around. He says he runs the iron triangle and the 27,000 people that work for him under the Department of Corrections, like an army. He has one basic rule, "If you're dishonest, you're fired.