Christmas Day in L.A. County jail: Mass, carols and ramen

During the winter of 1940, when its jail was a single building with fewer than 2,000 inmates, the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department pulled out all the stops.

The Salvation Army led hymns under the supervision of the jail chaplain. Not content with one musical option, sheriff’s officials also let in choral groups and a five-piece band.

For dinner, the jail served a holiday feast complete with candy, salad, fruit, mashed potatoes and gravy, gelatin — or “gelatine,” as it was spelled in The Times — and even roast veal with sage dressing.

Though the jail population is now far bigger, with more than 12,000 people in custody, this year’s festivities were not quite as elaborate: baked chicken instead of roast veal, with a guitar player and vocalist providing the music.

About 200 men, some from the neighboring Twin Towers facility, crowded into the third-floor chapel of Men’s Central Jail for this year’s Christmas Mass.

(Ringo Chiu / For The Times)

But the roughly 200 men crowded into the wooden pews of the spartan third-floor chapel of Men’s Central Jail in downtown Los Angeles were still full of smiles — and some tears — on Wednesday as Archbishop José Gomez of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles celebrated the jail’s annual Christmas Mass.

“It’s a special day,” said Jeff Nestler, tearing up after the service as he struggled to describe his second Christmas behind bars.

Normally, the 68-year-old would spend the holiday with his daughters and grandchildren. But since April 2023, he’s been in the county jail awaiting trial for a murder charge he hopes will be dismissed.

Christmas in jail “sucks,” he said. But like everything else in life, he added, “it really is what you make it.”

Jeff Nestler, left, was among the inmates who grew emotional as they celebrated Christmas Mass behind bars Wednesday.

(Ringo Chiu / For The Times)

After more than a decade working on submarines for the Navy, Nestler knows how to make do in tough situations. Since coming to jail, he has taken two dozen academic classes and earned a high school diploma, despite already having a GED. Now, he’s hoping to become a teacher’s aide.

“You find things to do to get through,” he said.

And for Christmas, that means showing up for Mass.

The archbishop’s Christmas Mass has been a staple at Men’s Central Jail since at least the early 1970s, when Peter Pitchess was the sheriff and the Bauchet Street lockup was just a few years old. Five decades later, the facility is decaying and seemingly on the brink of closure — but the holiday tradition has continued.

The first time Gomez, then newly installed as archbishop, presided over the service was in 2011, when Lee Baca had just started his fourth and final term as sheriff. Baca’s successors carried on the tradition until the COVID-19 pandemic interfered in 2020. After a hiatus, Gomez returned in 2022, again presiding over an hourlong Mass before walking through the jail with Sheriff Robert Luna.

This year, Luna sat near the front of the chapel with his wife and a smattering of top jail officials in uniform.

“We’re here to give hope,” Luna explained afterward. “You come because you want to send the message that everyone matters.”

Gomez, at right at the front of the chapel, has officiated at the Christmas Mass since he became archbishop in 2011, with a two-year hiatus during the COVID lockdown.

(Ringo Chiu / For The Times)

After listening to Gomez’s sermon, the men — some from Men’s Central Jail and some from the Twin Towers Correctional Facility across the street — lined up for Holy Communion, then strutted back to their pews smiling, some stopping to subtly catch the attention of friends from other dorms.

When the music changed to “Joy to the World,” an elderly man started singing along softly, pretending to conduct an orchestra with one hand as the other rested on his wheelchair.

As the service wound down, softer songs melted into “Feliz Navidad” and the men grew animated, some singing along in raucous near-shouts while others clapped their hands and hugged their neighbors.

Afterward, they would go back to their dorms and housing units to watch movies, play cards or plan jailhouse feasts, apart from the official chicken dinner. Nestler said he planned to pitch in some soup packets to bolster his dorm’s meal.

The “spread,” he said, would include jailhouse burritos, a variety of creative ramen noodle recipes and a questionable version of kimchi that relies heavily on pickles purchased from the commissary.

Jail officials even pitched in — albeit unwittingly — by giving out care packages stuffed with carceral staples including ramen, creme-filled cookies and instant coffee.

Aside from whatever gifts his staff may give out to ease the pain of holidays behind bars, Luna said, he had one wish for the men who came to Wednesday’s service: “I’m hoping for everyone in that room that we won’t see them next year.”

Inmates received Holy Communion before the Mass grew festive with “Feliz Navidad.”

(Ringo Chiu / For The Times)