Can't Escape History At Old County Jail

It has the feel of an old-time prison flick. James Cagney in stripes. Surly inmates banging on bars. All in black-and-white.

Three weeks after the last inmate was moved, the abandoned Loudoun County jail in downtown Leesburg remains a chilling place with its low ceilings, dark hallways, maze of exposed pipes and cellblocks with thick iron bars that make a thundering noise when slammed shut.

There's also the too-small drunk tank, a relic from a long-ago era, that still reeked on a recent morning, even though days had passed since the transfer to the shiny-new adult detention center across town.

"It's the smell of years of dirty clothes and dirty people," Loudoun Sheriff Stephen O. Simpson said as he strolled through the once notoriously overcrowded facility, which was built in 1954 to house a dozen or so prisoners.

Simply put, they don't make jails like this anymore. That's why Simpson is opening "the dungeon" -- as inmates liked to call it -- for a farewell tour from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday. Simpson calls it a rare opportunity for Loudoun residents to see what their old jail looks like and why a new facility was sorely needed.

"This is history," he said, mindful that the red-brick building on Church Street is awaiting a date with the wrecking ball. "The county will build a parking garage here, which is badly needed. But losing this building will be sad, in a way, because a jail has stood on this corner of Leesburg for about 200 years."

The old pokey tells the story of a different era in Northern Virginia -- when development meant that a new hardware store, not a 300-house subdivision, was going up; when the sheriff and his wife lived on the top floor of the jail, the better to keep an eye on things (and save on rent).

"Yes, that's a church pew," Simpson said, standing in a holding area near the back door where thousands of prisoners -- from murder suspects to Washington Redskins players charged with DUI -- got their first glimpse of Loudoun justice.

"A church pew with seat belts!" Simpson added.

No one remembers the pew's origins, or how and when it became the spot where prisoners waited to be processed.

But the seat belts were a no-brainer.

"We added the seat belts for safety," said corrections officer Sgt. Mike Cox. "When the drunks would come in, this would prevent them from standing up and just falling over and hurting themselves."