Albert Fox’s hands shook the first time the prison gate slammed behind him. He thought: what am I doing here?

At 22, he seemed too young and thin to make it as a prison officer.

“I never thought I would last a day,” he admitted with a laugh, more than 50 years later.

At that time, Bermuda was looking for people to work in government services. He chose the prisons because he knew some of the recruiters.

“I thought, if it gets to be too much I can always quit,” he said.

His first tour of the cell blocks revealed a building stuffed with inmates.

“It was overcrowded,” he said. “There were supposed to be about 75 prisoners, but it was more like 80 or 90.”

In fact, he lasted almost three decades in the prison service, working through some of Bermuda’s most turbulent times.

His first six months were spent at Casemates Prison, in Dockyard, but it was a long, cold ride from his St David’s home in the winter.

He grew up in the area. His parents Marvel and Albert Peter Fox ran the old Black Horse Restaurant.

He transferred to the closer to home Senior Training School, in St George’s, for offenders between the ages of 15 and 18.

Juveniles were both more difficult and easier to work with compared to adults.

“They would test you,” he admitted. “Many of them came from broken homes. There was violence, but the gun violence was not to the extent that it is today.”

Some of the people he worked with “graduated” to Casemates, but most typically received corrective training and went back into society within 18 months.

“Many of the boys did not have an education, so we did something similar to the General Education Diploma programme, or we did basic life skills,” Mr Fox said. “Some of the prison officers were father figures to the boys and that helped a great deal.”

He always tried to be firm but fair.

He was working at Casemates again in 1977 when Erskine “Buck” Burrows and Larry Tacklyn were tried for a series of murders, including that of Governor Sir Richard Sharples in 1973.

After being found guilty nearly 6,000 Bermudians signed a petition for clemency on behalf of both men.

The newly appointed Governor, Sir Peter Ramsbotham, referred the matter to the local Prerogative of Mercy Committee for their opinion, and for the second time they advised that both men should be executed.

“When Tacklyn was turned down by the mercy committee, I was one of the guyffed to him, along with another prison officer,” Mr Fox said. “Tacklyn was only a short little guy, but really strong. I remember he could stand on his hands.”

It was not an easy time in the prison; tensions were high.

The two men were hanged in the early hours of December 2, 1977, within a half an hour of each other.

“Once Burrows and Tacklyn were hung you could feel the tension,” Mr Scott said. “You could hear the drums beating on Court Street.”

Riots erupted across this island.

“Shelly Bay was on fire and so was the City of Hamilton and other places,” Mr Fox said. “Several people died in a fire lit at the Southampton Princess Hotel. Bermuda was burning.”

He believes Bermuda was ultimately saved by rain. It helped quench flames and sent rioters home.

Another memorable moment in Mr Fox’s career was a major prison break in 1985.

“Four inmates escaped,” he remembered.

They were Marco Puga, Maxwell “Eggs” Smith, Carlton “Butch” Minors and Patrick Edwards.

“They cut the bars,” Mr Fox said. “They were very clever. I think it was probably Minors who planned everything, because he was a smart guy. They studied the shifts that officers worked. They went to the roof of the prison, tied sheets together and lowered themselves down the steep drop.”

Smith was a prolific criminal with mental health issues, who had already escaped a psychiatric facility and prison on more than one occasion.

Early on in the hunt for the escapees, Mr Fox joined prison and police officers scouring the island. One of them was quickly rounded up and returned to his cell. Two more followed until only Minors remained on the wrong side of the prison walls.

Because Mr Fox was familiar with the missing prisoners, one of who had been quickly returned to prison, he was seconded to the police department for more than nine months.

To this day it is not known exactly how Minors escaped Bermuda, but it is thought he hitched a ride on a container ship. It was more than 18 months before he was recaptured.

Mr Fox thought he might never have been recovered if members of the police force had not followed Minor’s girlfriend to North Carolina.

Being a prison officer could be a dangerous job. One of his scariest times came when Mr Fox jumped between two men fighting, something prison officers are taught not to do.

“I figured I could handle it,” Mr Fox said. “I should have waited for back-up.”

In the middle of things, one of the prisoners suddenly pulled an enormous kitchen knife.

All of Mr Fox’s years of being a “firm but fair” came to his rescue.

“Another inmate walked up to this guy, twisted his wrist, then handed the knife over to me,” Mr Fox said. He had built up a relationship with his rescuer when he was at the Senior Training School.

“People rarely visited him, so I would often sit and talk with him, or share some biscuits or get him a pack of cigarettes,” Mr Fox said. “If I had roughed him up as an officer or threw my weight around, he probably would have left me to be stabbed.”

Mr Fox retired in 2000. “It was time to get out of there,” he said.

He became Sergeant-At-Arms in the House of Assembly for several years. He was the first Sergeant-At-Arms to be seconded overseas for a period.

He also coached baseball.

"I enjoyed baseball," he said, "but my favourite sport was soccer."

Today, he is completely retired.

He loves to travel and is often involved in advocacy work, particularly for his St David’s community.

He has a son, Corby Fox and a daughter, Khamani Fox.