Statistics show that reoffending is less likely if family ties are maintained in prison. Peter Barron is given permission to go into a North-East jail for a special family day

THE fair-haired little boy, two-and-a-half years old, runs down the path alongside the high metal fence. He’s wearing a bright red T-shirt emblazoned with the words: “My Daddy’s a star.”

With a beaming smile and unable to contain his excitement, he might easily be heading to the entrance of a theme park, desperate to be first in the queue. Instead, he’s going into a prison – his Daddy’s a criminal.

Today is a special family day at Kirklevington Prison, near Yarm – a day for prisoners to reconnect with their children.

Inside the gates, once the security checks are complete, the families are shown into a sports hall. The little boy in the red T-shirt spots his Daddy and runs into his arms, closely followed by his older brother.

Chairs have been set in small, neat circles around the hall. Toys, including giant Lego bricks, are laid out on the floor and volunteers are ready to hand out sweets, crisps and drinks. There’s a table full of Easter bonnets waiting to be decorated, and children’s illustrator Liz Million is standing by a flip-chart, poised to draw funny animals with the children.

The boys’ daddy – called Lee – stretches out his tattooed arms, gives them a big hug, and the clock is ticking on four precious hours of family time: play, fun and normality.

It is a condition of being allowed inside the prison on this special day that I’m not permitted to give Lee’s full identity, details of his crime, or the names of his children who have come with his uncle and auntie.

“It’s what keeps you going in prison,” says Lee. “Looking forward to days like this, being able to spend time with my boys – it means everything to us.

“When you go from seeing your kids every day of your life to hardly seeing them at all, it breaks your heart. It’s not just emotional seeing my own boys, I fill up watching the other dads getting to see their bairns too.”

Lee expresses his gratitude to the charity NEPACS for supporting the family days. “They make all the difference,” he says.

Angie Wilcock, NEPACS’ family support worker, welcomes the families into the sports hall, says she hopes they’ll have a great time, and lets them know there’s an Easter egg hunt to come later.

“It’s huge for the guys,” she explains. “It’s all about giving them family time and re-building relationships.”

Extra family days such as this are arranged during every school holiday and are much more informal than normal weekly visits, in which prisoners have to stay at a desk. With their dads unable to get up and play, children easily get bored, but the family days are different.

Prisoners have to apply to take part, with priority given to those who haven’t already had one. Today, out of a Kirklevington prison population of 268, there are 16 family men involved.

They include Paddy, a grandfather of seven. He’s behind bars for the first time and he’s quick to acknowledge that his punishment is fully justified.

“Look, I’m in here because I broke the law and I deserve it, but my family didn’t do anything wrong,” says Paddy, who’s being visited by his wife and three of his grandchildren. They’ve all had a go at a competition to guess how many cotton wool balls have been squashed into a sweetie jar.

“It’s important to keep the family ties together and days like this are priceless,” Paddy adds.

Caroline Senior, Head of Reducing Offending at the prison, has no doubt about the value of the family days.“When men finish their sentences if they have a strong family unit to go back to this can help to reduce reoffending if the men are motivated to change” she says.

“This is a resettlement prison where one of our aims is to prepare the men to return to society and restore some normality to their lives and that of their families. Days like this are, therefore, important building blocks to maintaining and building those family connections,”

During his years as a prison officer, Ian Currie has faced some tough challenges but he readily gives his own time to help organise the family days and he admits they’ve been known to move him to tears.

“I just love to see the faces light up when the kids come in. Whatever crimes have been committed, it’s not the children who are to blame. They suffer enough from their dads being inside so we have to do what we can to keep those family bonds intact. It can be really emotional.”

Outside in the sunshine, the high metal fence casts a shadow over an artificial football pitch. Prisoner Lee has left the giant Lego bricks behind and is having a kick-around with his boys.

“You go in goal now, Daddy” shouts his youngest son. He has a shot and Lee deliberately dives over the ball, allowing it to nestle in the net.

The little lad in the bright red t-shirt is laughing and has his arms aloft in triumph. For today at least, his Daddy’s a star.