Driving through Atoka County, you’ll see plenty of rolling hills and quiet Oklahoma landscape before you hit the small town of Stringtown. It’s a peaceful spot. But for a few thousand people, life centers around a high-security perimeter just off Highway 69. That’s the Mack Alford Correctional Center. It has been a fixture of the Oklahoma Department of Corrections (ODOC) for decades, and honestly, its reputation has evolved quite a bit since it first opened its gates.
It's a medium-security prison.
That classification matters because it dictates everything from the daily schedule to how much freedom of movement the inmates actually have. Unlike a minimum-security "farm" or a maximum-security "lockdown" facility, Mack Alford sits in that complicated middle ground. It houses roughly 800 to 900 adult males at any given time, though those numbers fluctuate based on state funding and system-wide capacity issues. If you’re looking for it on a map or trying to send mail, you’re looking for 1151 SW Highway 69, Stringtown, OK 74567.
The History Behind the Name and the Place
It wasn't always called Mack Alford. Back in the day, it was simply known as the Stringtown Sub-Prison. It served as a secondary site for the larger state penitentiary system. In the 1970s, things shifted. The state decided to honor Mack Alford, a well-regarded warden and corrections professional who spent his career trying to modernize how Oklahoma handled its incarcerated population.
The facility itself has seen some dark days.
In the late 1980s, specifically 1988, a massive riot broke out that essentially gutted several buildings. It was a chaotic scene—fires, hostage situations, and millions of dollars in property damage. That event forced the state to rethink how they designed the housing units. When you look at the architecture today, you see the remnants of that "post-riot" philosophy: more controlled sightlines, reinforced materials, and better-segregated units to prevent a repeat of '88.
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What Daily Life Actually Looks Like
You've probably seen movies where prison is either a constant brawl or a boring library. The reality at Mack Alford Correctional Center is usually a mix of mundane routine and high-stress environmental factors.
A typical day starts early.
- Count and Breakfast: Inmates are counted multiple times a day. If the count is off, everything stops. No one moves.
- Work Assignments: Most guys have jobs. Some work in the kitchen, others handle laundry, and some are part of the maintenance crews that keep the aging plumbing from failing completely.
- Education: This is actually one area where Mack Alford tries to stand out. They offer GED programs and some vocational training, which is basically the only real way out of the cycle of recidivism.
The facility also operates a significant "Oklahoma Correctional Industries" (OCI) program. This isn't just busy work. They produce goods that are sold to state agencies. It gives the guys a chance to learn a trade—like carpentry or upholstery—which, frankly, is more valuable than any "tough on crime" rhetoric when it comes to keeping them from coming back after their release.
Addressing the Safety Concerns
We have to talk about the elephant in the room: safety. Oklahoma’s prison system has been under fire for years due to understaffing. Mack Alford isn't immune to that. When you have a high inmate-to-officer ratio, things get tense.
In recent years, reports from the ODOC and local news outlets have highlighted "lockdowns" that can last for weeks. Why? Sometimes it’s a spike in contraband, like cell phones or drugs being tossed over the fence. Other times, it’s a response to violence between different factions inside the walls.
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It’s a tough environment.
But it’s also important to note that the staff there—many of whom live in the surrounding Stringtown and Atoka communities—are often working double shifts just to keep the lights on. It’s a community within a community. If you’re a family member of someone inside, the lack of communication during these lockdowns is easily the most frustrating part. You call the main line (580-346-7301), and often, you're just told the facility is "restricted."
Visiting and Keeping in Touch
If you are planning to visit someone at the Mack Alford Correctional Center, don't just show up. You will be turned away. Oklahoma has a very specific, somewhat tedious approval process.
- The Application: You have to fill out a background check form and wait weeks—sometimes months—for approval.
- The Dress Code: It's strict. No blue denim (because it looks like inmate clothing), no spandex, no hoodies, and nothing "revealing." If a guard thinks your shirt is too short, your visit is over before it starts.
- The Schedule: Visitation usually happens on weekends, but it is divided by the last digit of the inmate’s DOC number or their specific housing unit.
Basically, always check the official ODOC website or the facility’s "Vinelink" status before you make the drive. It’s a long trek for most people, and there’s nothing worse than getting to Stringtown only to find out the facility is on a sudden "operational pause."
Programs That Actually Work
Despite the grim nature of medium security, there are success stories. Mack Alford hosts faith-based programs and "Thinking for a Change" (T4C) classes. These aren't just "feel good" sessions; they are evidence-based cognitive-behavioral programs designed to help inmates manage anger and make better decisions.
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There's also the "Paws Training Center."
This is one of the coolest things about the facility. Some inmates get to work with shelter dogs, training them to be more adoptable or even preparing them for service work. It’s a win-win. The dogs get saved from being put down, and the inmates learn empathy and responsibility. You’d be surprised how much a tough guy's demeanor changes when he’s responsible for a Golden Retriever’s well-being.
The Reality of the "Medium Security" Label
People often ask what "medium security" really means. At Mack Alford, it means double fences with razor wire, armed towers, and electronic sensors. But inside those fences, it means inmates live in "open bay" dorms or cells with a roommate. It’s not "The Shawshank Redemption" with single cells and old stone walls. It’s more like a very crowded, very loud, very high-stakes college dorm—except no one wants to be there and the doors are locked.
The noise is constant.
The smell is a mix of industrial floor cleaner and too many people in one space. But for the inmates who are serious about getting home, the goal is to stay "ticket-free." Every disciplinary report (a "ticket") can push back a parole date or lose them their "level," which determines how many phone calls they can make or how much they can spend at the canteen.
Actionable Steps for Families and Advocates
If you have a loved one at Mack Alford or are researching the facility for legal reasons, here is how you navigate the system effectively:
- Download the GTL GettingOut App: This is how most messaging and photo sharing happens now. It's expensive—ridiculously so, some would argue—but it’s the primary lifeline for inmates.
- Monitor the ODOC "Offender Look Up": Keep an eye on their "earned credits." If their release date suddenly jumps, it usually means a change in their security level or a disciplinary action you need to know about.
- Use the Canteen System Wisely: You can send money through JPay or Access Corrections. Pro-tip: don't send a huge lump sum all at once. It can make an inmate a target for extortion. Smaller, regular deposits are usually safer.
- Verify Mail Rules: Everything is scanned now. Don't send "perfumed" letters, polaroids, or anything with glitter. It will be tossed in the trash, and the inmate might get flagged. Stick to plain white paper and black ink.
Mack Alford Correctional Center remains a cornerstone of the Oklahoma justice system. It’s a place of contradiction—harsh security measures sitting right next to programs designed to heal. Whether it's the history of the 1988 riots or the current success of the dog training program, it's a facility that demands a nuanced understanding. It’s not just a building; for the town of Stringtown and the families of those inside, it's a significant part of the landscape that requires constant oversight and attention.