“Sergeant Whearty was kind of intimidating, but only because of his hash marks. That's what I remember the most; those hash marks…” recalls Geno Whitehall, an officer at San Quentin State Prison in California.

After the passing of Sergeant John Whearty this summer, officers and inmates alike remember the hash marks on his uniform that lined his left arm from top to bottom. Every three years, officers in California correctional facilities are awarded one hash mark. Sgt. Whearty, after working at San Quentin State Prison for almost 60 years, was covered.

“He actually had to stop getting hash marks because his uniform sleeve had filled up,” Whitehall adds.

Whearty passed away on August 18, 2005. Whearty was 82 years- old and had been diagnosed with cancer. Officers at San Quentin have fond memories of Whearty and his service to the facility where he spent his entire career.

“He was known for being dependable, intelligent, and dedicated – and he was known for his cigars. He always had a stogie,” recalls Sergeant Eric Messick, who worked with Whearty for five years. 

Whearty was born on August 29, 1923. After being hired in 1946 as a Correctional Officer for the San Quentin Road Camp, he was promoted to Control Sergeant. The promotion made Whearty responsible for all inmate movement and transportation.

In the 90's, he was moved to San Quentin Level I Ranch, which is a minimum-security support facility. He was in charge of supervising 250 inmates, as well as all of the officers. Through his experience, Whearty built a reputation as a man who did his job - and did it well.

Whitehall remembers Whearty as one of the most respected officials within the facility, despite his somewhat odd forms of discipline for prisoners that stepped out of line.

“He used to come up with all of these crazy ways to punish the unruly inmates,” recalls Whitehall.

“The back lawn of the prison always had geese everywhere, and he would make prisoners go outside and name them all. Then they would have to walk around the prison reciting the names they had given the geese. It sounds weird, but it worked.”

Whearty was also known for his dependable nature. He was never late, and, according to colleagues, he actually accumulated more than two years worth of unused vacation time because he never missed a day of work. In fact, Whearty suffered two strokes while on the job – and after being treated by doctors, drove himself back to work without missing a day. 

“He loved his work,” Jeanne Woodford, the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation Undersecretary, remembered in a department interview she gave shortly after Whearty's death. “More importantly, he loved his correctional family. He was a pioneer in Corrections.”

Whitehall also remembers a day when another corrections officer came to San Quentin claiming to have served the longest in the corrections field.

“I put the officer in my car and I drove him right to Sgt. Whearty. The look on his face pretty much proved I was right – Sgt. Whearty had been older and had served longer.”

After working for 50 years within the Department, Whearty's service was commemorated when his employer named a park named after him. According to Messick, Whearty deserved the recognition – and then some.

“He was heavily involved in the evolution of San Quentin [prison],” says Messick. “He was here as the facility essentially went from Stone Age to high tech – and he took it all in stride. More than that, he was just a great person - efficient, nice, and he never said a harsh word.”

Staffs from throughout the department say they will miss him dearly. But the words of Messick seem to sum up the emotion felt at San Quentin:

“I learned everything I know about control from [Whearty] him.  There wasn't anything that he didn't know. Every movement he made was sure – he knew his job. We all learned from him. He was a great man.”