By Wright Thompson

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

ANGOLA, La. -- The prison dentist walks slowly down the gravel road past the warden's house. He is stooped, with a big belly, two white tufts of hair and a bald spot. He's got a bulbous nose and a creak in his step. But look closer. There are still pieces of the man he used to be. He moves with a subtle feline grace. He's got the deepest blue eyes, familiar somehow, like an old photograph. They seem only to absorb information, never giving anything away. He's alone, carefully making his way from the party to his white Ford truck. He's been on display long enough.

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