CHARLOTTE - Meg Scott Phipps, daughter and granddaughter of North Carolina governors, tumbled from a political legacy to sleeping on the floor in a one-person cell shared with a mentally ill prisoner.

With her expected release Monday from a federal prison camp in Alderson, W.Va., she will have finished more than three years of incarceration. Phipps, the former commissioner of agriculture who pleaded guilty to public corruption charges, completed most of her sentence at Alderson, where her husband's grandmother once worked as a guard.

Phipps is prohibited from talking to the news media, but since arriving at Alderson, she has written a newsletter for family and friends sharing details of her prison life. As her release drew near, the Charlotte Observer obtained copies from a family member.

Phipps, 51, is to stop first Monday at a parole office in Greensboro. From there, she heads home to her family's farm near Haw River with her husband and teenage daughter and son.

She'll be confined to her home until August, other than working at her church. She will wear an electronic ankle bracelet.

There are far worse locations than Alderson, with its minimum security and Allegheny mountains setting. Still, Phipps was immersed in the tangible and psychological duress of imprisonment, from a 7-by-10-foot living space shared with drug dealers to inmate suicide attempts and her children living without her.

Her newsletters voice occasional frustration and some fears for other inmates struggling to gain skills to succeed outside the prison fence.

Mostly, though, the mailings highlight the comforts and blessings she could still grasp: a report on her daughter's 16th birthday, a friendship during Martha Stewart's brief stay at the camp or moving from a large dorm into one of the camp's cottages.

"We have a door to our room. I'm on a bottom bunk bed with a real mattress. My room has two 12-pane windows that look out on to trees and mountains." -- March 6, 2005

Three months later, the cottages were closed and all prisoners moved into a dormitory.

Phipps taught high school-level classes to other prisoners, including a popular course on women in U.S. history that she developed. She shared the rewards with her newsletter readers.

"One woman (who whines and complains a lot and who won't ask for any other teacher's aide) told me out of the blue, 'You know, God put you here to help me.' She said it so sincerely, and I was taken aback and didn't quite know what to say." -- Oct. 15, 2004

And the frustrations.

"It is hard dealing with the ones who don't want to learn or can't. We have women who suck their thumbs, eat toilet paper, are medicated or can't speak without a curse word. They can't do fractions when they don't know their multiplication tables. Limited vocabulary prohibits composition of a five-word sentence. I've been so tempted to switch jobs here! But I can't just walk away." -- Christmas 2005

Famous, infamous

Drug dealers and addicts populate the camp alongside bankers, doctors and lawyers, Phipps writes. Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme, who tried to shoot President Ford, was once imprisoned there. But no celebrity could match the media circus around Martha Stewart's five-month sentence at Alderson, starting in fall 2004. Phipps describes helicopters overhead and photographers in the woods.

"I was told I was on CNN and 'Good Morning America' this week, including a mug shot next to 'Squeaky Fromme'! Remember her? She was here some years ago. Several guards have said I won't be the most famous person here now. I didn't know I was." -- Oct. 15, 2004

Blessings, frustrations

Phipps corrected the record about Stewart's farewell, explaining that, contrary to a Wall Street Journal report, she and other inmates did not fix pineapple cheesecake. They made "punch pie," concocted from ingredients available at the camp store: vanilla pudding, French vanilla coffee creamer, cherry and raspberry-lemonade Koolaid, graham cracker crust and a little fruit.

"Some of you have walk-in closets bigger than my living space! Almost all of my possessions are kept in a 2-foot-by-1.5-foot-by-3-foot locker. No car. No cell phone. No computer. Wait a minute sounds like a blessing to me!" -- Christmas 2006

The government spent about $25,000 a year to house her, but Phipps' husband, Robert, sent $300 a month to an account to cover phone calls, mail and purchases at the camp store. Clothes, beyond her khaki-colored uniform, were purchased, and she bought food from the store as an alternative to starchy cafeteria fare. She splurged on Pantene shampoo and hiking boots.

Phipps shed more than 40 pounds from an unappetizing menu and regular exercise, switching from Richard Simmons to Kathy Smith aerobics tapes. The warden at one point restricted the areas on the grounds to which inmates could walk for exercise to make it easier for guards to monitor them.

"With limited staff, watching for illegal smoking and the gay activity is difficult. So, just like taking away the weight room, we all get punished for the actions of the few. Truthfully, the activity won't stop or diminish." -- Oct. 1, 2006

Frustration over her own experience emerges only a couple of times in the newsletters, such as when she encourages readers to pick up "Constitutional Chaos," a book by a Republican former judge arguing that civil liberties are eroding.

"If he really only knew and had experienced what many of us have been through, it would've been a much thicker book." -- March 6, 2005

But she mentions encouraging incidents, such as a softball game, a student's gift of a crocheted bag, "snowcream" made from snow and coffee creamer and a Christmas pageant where her unit won the decorating and skit contest two years in a row.

'For a purpose'

In the weeks before Phipps was shipped to Alderson, she was bounced around three county jails until Sheriff Steve Bizzell, a Republican in Johnston County, got the U.S. Marshal's permission to pull Phipps, a Democrat, off a transport van and let her stay until her final destination was determined.

Bizzell, reared as a farm boy and preacher's son, said he doesn't condone anything Phipps did. But he took the opportunity to accommodate someone who was in his jail, going through a bad time. Phipps didn't forget, and when her Christmas newsletter arrived in December, Bizzell found it inspirational.

"She's saying [God] has put me in prison for a purpose, to remember from where my strength cometh and it's not from politics, an office or a powerful job," Bizzell said. "It's my husband and my family and my faith."

Phipps' holiday missive read:

"Even though I'm in prison, I am blessed to have my health, my family's health and the love of family and friends. I refuse to be angry or bitter about my situation. I have dined with presidents and prisoners, prosecutors and prostitutes, preachers and a princess. I have shared meals in ball gowns and in ball caps, on china and in chains. Everybody holds his/her fork the same. I would venture to say that everyone ultimately wants the same thing -- to be healthy and happy, loved and respected. Thanks to you, I feel all of that." -- Christmas 2006