My dad always had an extra pack of cigarettes in the car and would throw them out the window to the prisoners as we passed by them. Dad was no liberal, far from it, but he was a heavy smoker and would tell us how more difficult it would make it to get through a day of hard labor in the Florida sun without smokes.
I don’t know if the times would make a difference, but I sure know what an impression it made and my friends and me when we would pass one of these prisoner work gangs on the road. It would be the topic of conversation for the next five miles or more as we speculated about what they had done to end up in prison. I think it was a valuable learning experience in the lives of young people back then, an example that is completely lacking in today’s society.
The guard was free, at the end of the day, to go home to his wife and kids. He was free to seek other employment.
I lived next door to a prison guard.