<p>During the 25 years since her husband was slain in a deadly prison riot, Alicia McEachins friends and family urged her several times to give up.</p><p>They said if the state of Georgia hadnt already honored her requests for a permanent memorial to her late husband, prison guard Dan Harrison, it never would.</p><p>Ive had people very close me, relatives, who would look at me just like, `Youve lost it, said McEachin, 54, of Vidalia. I would never give up on it. Theres no way I would, knowing Dan died such a horrible death.</p><p>McEachins persistence in two decades of pressing state lawmakers and prison officials has finally paid off.</p><p>Georgia State Prison in Reidsville, the maximum-security prison where the riot erupted, will unveil a life-size bronze statue of Harrison during a memorial service Friday, which would have marked his 57th birthday.</p><p>Those who worked with Harrison during the July 23, 1978, riot agree its an overdue honor. The riot brought national attention to Georgias overcrowded prisons, resulting in sweeping reforms.</p><p>Its definitely a just thing. His death changed things so much, said Glenn Rich, warden of Rogers State Prison, who was then part of the prison assault team that quelled the riot. Dans death seems to be a way of measuring the old from the new. I dont believe you can separate it.</p><p>Harrison had been working nine months at the Reidsville prison, about 60 miles west of Savannah, when the riot began. He warned his family beforehand that trouble was brewing.</p><p>The prison, containing Georgias worst offenders, was packed with nearly 3,000 inmates _ compared with 1,300 today. Black and white inmates were angry over plans to integrate their dormitories. An increase in assaults and violence had guards on edge.</p><p>Guards knew inmates had seen the news of a recent riot at Pontiac State Prison in Illinois. Soon after, prisoners who served as the officers inside informants stopped talking.</p><p>We knew something was coming down, but we didnt know what, Rich recalled.</p><p>On July 23, guard Preston Foskey unlocked one of the dorms so prisoners could go to dinner. The inmates grabbed Foskey and began stabbing him. Harrison was the first corrections officer to reach him.</p><p>Probably them attacking Dan is what saved Prestons life, because they stopped stabbing him and went in on Dan, said Rich, who was the first to find Harrisons body.</p><p>Harrison was stabbed 61 times. Inmates dragged his body through the halls and tried to burn it, setting fire to mattresses they piled on top of him. Foskey has severe injuries, but survived. Two inmates also died.</p><p>Harrison became the first Georgia corrections officer killed inside a prison. He remained the only one until May 2002, when officer James Henderson Jr. was beaten to death by an inmate at the same prison.</p><p>The 1978 riot prompted a $100 million overhaul of Georgia prisons, including more officers, better training and tighter security.</p><p>It just highlighted how dangerous those conditions were, said state Sen. Jack Hill, R-Reidsville, whose district includes the prison. Every (inmate) at Georgia State Prison is there because they havent been good somewhere else. Theyre the worst of the worst.</p><p>McEachin, who later remarried, went about raising the three small children she had with her late husband. She also set out to ensure her husbands death would never be forgotten.</p><p>For years, the widow pushed to have Georgia State Prison renamed for Harrison. The state Board of Corrections told McEachin renaming the prison would take a change in state law. State lawmakers refused to do it.</p><p>Compromises were offered _ naming a building at the prison after Harrison, or another prison, or perhaps a memorial garden on the Georgia State Prison grounds. Until a statue was proposed, nothing satisfied her.</p><p>Former state Rep. Roger Byrd, who helped McEachin finally persuade lawmakers to allocate $47,000 for a statue last year, said a lingering sense of grief surrounding the riot likely contributed to the delay.</p><p>You know how you just dont want to deal with things sometimes that are just too painful? I think thats what it was, Byrd said.</p><p>Though she wont see the final statue until Friday morning, McEachin says she loves the design _ a 5-foot, 10-inch likeness of her husband in uniform, standing alert with a billy club in his hand. Inside the prison rotunda, officers reporting for work will pass it daily.</p><p>I think its going to bring closure to so many officers who worked prior to, during and after the riot, McEachin said. Im so excited.</p>
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