https://townhall.com/tipsheet/miacathell/2023/01/20/zulock-case-pt-4-n2618324
Part 4: What's Jail Like for Two Accused Child Rapists?
Life Behind Bars
Since they're being prosecuted as co-defendants, the adoptive fathers are housed separately while in pre-trial detainment.
An out-of-county transfer placed Zachary "Zack" Jacoby Zulock in Barrow County Detention Center's "maximum" security unit "due to the nature of the charges." Zachary appears to be experiencing what's colloquially called "jail justice," part of an honor code amongst inmates and a brand of justice directed at offenders who would harm children in any way: child murderers, rapists, and molesters, a.k.a. "ChoMos." In terms of the lock-up's pecking order, they're the lowest rung on the hierarchical ladder.
Meanwhile, the most William Dale Zulock Jr. is contending with is his dietary restrictions in Walton County Jail.
Zachary told his relative, who exclusively shared their series of taped jailhouse calls from the fall of 2022 with Townhall, he's fearful that a fellow cellmate laced his drink. "Umm, I think someone put something in my drink," Zachary suspected in an October phone call, elucidating: "There was a comment made to me last night. Someone tried to give me something, and when I didn't, the way [the inmate] said it, like, 'You want another one?' And I was like, 'Another one? I never had another one before.'"
"It made my…arm and everything go numb," Zachary said. "I couldn't move my hands. My fingers were stuck." After experiencing "stroke-like symptoms," he implored the relative to get his lawyer to free him: "I can't have something like this happen again."
"[Haldi] needs to get me out," Zachary texted the family member through JailATM. The family member told Zachary the lawyer said his dilemma won't make any difference in being bonded out and that the judge would "laugh him" out of the courtroom.
A month later, Zachary still begged for his defense attorney John E. Haldi to "work a deal to get me out on some kind of bond."
"tell DA that I want an ankle monitor, and if required, a low bond," Zachary demanded in a message to the relative. "[H]aldi needs to try everything possible to get us out. i dont know if he can try to get William out too with this information, or just me."
"its not my fault that i got drugged," Zachary messaged his family member. "i still need to go to a hospital for stroke evaluation."
He had visited a nurse in the jail's medical wing, where staff took bloodwork, gave Zachary a Benadryl, and placed him on anti-inflammatory medication for several days. Zachary believes he was slipped his cellmate's prescription drug "for nightmares."
After alerting the jail staff of his ordeal, Zachary said he was threatened twice by the cellmate.
"i was just threatened again," Zachary said, "to physically beat me or have someone do it for him."
"I mean, I guess the only thing I can ask for is if you can just pray at least, regardless," Zachary asked of the family member.
At another point in one of the telephone exchanges, Zachary said he bought a Bible from the jail's bookstore:
In the meantime, William—like other jailbirds—has a tablet to text on with a digital library of books to choose from. One time the relative checked in with William, he was looking forward to an origami do-it-yourself book "to keep my mind off of things."
But it's not always a state of zen for William, who's also in maximum security and temporarily let out of the cell block for a four-hour recreation period in the "offenders rec," as it's dubbed. Gang members, drug dealers, and murderers bunk together in William's dormitory, "but they're not allowed in our rec because if they touch us, they get assault charges," he explained. (It just so happens that William is related to one of his cellmates by marriage.) "I'm one of the least troubled ones in here," William claimed. "They don't know how to talk normal. They like to yell," William said, when detainees were shouting in the background of the call.
William, who's lactose intolerant and cannot drink the milk at breakfast-time or any dairy products offered in the slammer, complained about the soy patties and bologna-and-cheese sandwiches for lunch, which he doesn't eat. "I don't even know a dog would eat these bologna sandwiches. That's how low-grade the meat is," fussed William, whose weight is down to 120 pounds.
"This place is a joke," William snickered, grumbling about the jailhouse's "decrepit" housing conditions.
"Pfft, yesterday was miserable," William said after seeing the indictment documents. "They called me up front again for fingerprints, and I saw the new charges that they're putting against—I'm assuming—both of us […]There's 17 charges."