While at Goshen, Mr. Bosket learned about his father and began a writing to him at Leavenworth.

His father, by now a college graduate in prison, worried that Mr. Bosket was enamored with the revolutionary rhetoric of George Jackson, a former leader of the Black Panther Party who died during a controversial escape attempt from San Quentin in 1971.

''In your letter you seem taken with the ideas and writings of George Jackson most, and the need for confrontation with societal forces at large at some level of 'revolutionary suicide.' '' the elder Bosket wrote back.

''Frankly, that's a bit too much excitement for me, and it has been my observation that the energies from such a thought basis tend to dissipate unfruitfully before the onrush of hard pragmatic realities. But then, I'm just old folks.''

Since then, Mr. Bosket has attacked one guard after another.

Even Miss Honig has stopped visiting him. ''I couldn't go anymore,'' she said. ''He's living like an animal. The more they treat him like a monster, the more monstrous he becomes.''

The only lights are outside his cell door, which is covered with plexiglass to keep him from throwing feces or food. Video cameras focus on him.

He is allowed outside in a private area for one hour of exercise a day. But before he can come out of his cell, he must stick his arms and feet out to be manacled.

''He's getting mad again,'' said Miss Honig. ''I know it's just a matter of time before he tries to kill someone or kill himself. He has told me, 'If they kill me, then I can rest forever.' ''