Contest turns Menlo Park mall into 'prison'
Radio station sponsors contest that 'incarcerates' listeners to win prizes
BY TOM CAIAZZA
Staff Writer

EDISON - The phone rang for Jack Tirone.

The Jackson resident eagerly answered. It would be his only lifeline to the outside world other than gawking onlookers lobbing questions, their visages locked in confusion.

Tirone was languishing in prison, so to speak. He and four others had been given five days until they could break out.

The five "prisoners" were contestants in WPLJ radio's "Prison Break" at the Menlo Park Mall in Edison. As part of "Scott and Todd's Morning Show," the contest thrusts average listeners into the abnormal circumstances surrounding prison life.

The "prisoners" were forced to live for five days in a specially constructed prison in the courtyard near Nordstrom inside the Menlo Park Mall. They were allowed no phones, televisions, radios, books or newspapers and had to compete in challenges to gain points, competing against each other for prizes and the allowance of occasional luxuries.

Executive producer Joe Pardavila said that the purpose of the contest was to have normal people compete in one of the most frightening experiences imaginable - prison.

"We asked what would be the scariest thing a law-abiding citizen would have to survive," Pardavila said.

While it wasn't Folsom, the prison, an open-air cage made of wooden bars, was the only place contestants were allowed to go except for 10-minute trips to the bathroom and the occasional challenge such as eating bugs inside a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

They were in general population, meaning they shared living spaces, slept on floors next to each other and played games to pass the time. Some favorites included volleyball with a water bottle, and duck, duck, goose.

Those who survived the constant peering eye of the 24-hour live Webcam, the steady stream of onlookers, the relative discomfort of sleeping on the hard floor, eating "gruel" (unflavored oatmeal; this isn't "Oliver Twist") and a less-than-savory level of personal hygiene, were rewarded: the grand prize being a $5,000 Menlo Park Mall shopping spree and a "getaway" to Aruba.

It is a chance that Christian Ames, an architectural metal worker from Long Island, N.Y., said he was willing to take.

"Why not [do this]?" Ames said. "It's fun. How often do you get to do something like this?"

Ames joined eight other contestants at 6 a.m. on the morning of April 9 for the contest. By 3 p.m. the following day, the pack had been whittled down to five. Four dropped out during the first 24 hours or so, with one person lasting only eight hours.

Pardavila said some people didn't understand what a challenge like this really entailed.

"People don't know what they are getting into until they get into it," Pardavila said.

Linda Tancredi of Piscataway was one of those who dropped out early.

She said she did it because her smoking habit got the best of her and being out of contact with the outside world made her miss her cell phone.

"Everybody was great," Tancredi said, "I'm sorry now; I wish I would have stayed."

Ames, who won one of the earliest challenges, eating PBJ laced with insects, said that he was being supported by his family and company to try his hand at "prison."

Ames, who works in a family-run company, said that he approached his boss and said, "Talk me out of this." The response was obvious.

Trish Balinsky of Middletown said that passing the time was the hardest part, but by Tuesday the group had begun to coalesce, creating games to break the monotony and having an overall enjoyable incarceration.

"We're having a very enjoyable experience," Balinsky said at the time. "There are lots of well-wishers. We talk, ask each other if they have to go to the bathroom, count the light bulbs."

If she wins, Balinsky already has her prize money spent. The "prison" was within sight of a shoe store: she was eyeing up the merchandise.

Jessie Paszkowski, a 22-year-old college student from Parsippany, said the worst part about the experience was the constant bombardment of questions, the same questions, over and over again.

"It gets annoying when people ask you the same questions," Paszkowski said. "Most people ask where do you go to the bathroom."

Rounding out the five was Michele Reese, an officer manager, married, with one daughter.

Pardavila said that one representative from the station was on hand at all hours of the day or night to accommodate the needs of the inmates. They had taken all security precautions (there are no shivs under pillows) and the Menlo Park Mall had agreed to help with the safety of the contestants.

When Jack Tirone hung up the phone, he was whisked away for his 10-minute bathroom break. Upon returning, his spirits were high.

The registered nurse said his family was supporting him in this, and he wanted to take advantage of his work schedule to do something different.

Tirone said he used to watch "Fear Factor" and thought he could do some of the things the contestants were doing on that show. This was his chance to prove it.

As for his wife and children, "They think I'm crazy," Tirone said.

By Friday morning, there were three left inside. The two men, Ames and Tirone, had been eliminated that morning during a challenge, leaving only the women - Balinsky, Paszkowski and Michele Reese - to compete in the final challenge: the appropriately named "Don't drop the soap."

Contestants stood on milk crates with outstretched arms and balanced two bars of soap on spatulas. The one who kept her arm out the longest without dropping the soap was the winner.

Trish Balinsky took the prize.

"I feel very excited, very blessed and lucky," Balinsky said afterward while clutching her daughter in her arms. "I've never won anything before."

Reese came in a close second and said that the entire experience was something she was happy to have done.

"I had a great week," Reese said. "It was a good idea - I would do it again, no regrets."

Both Ames and Tirone said they were happy they got as far as they did and neither one harbors regrets over having competed.

However, Ames said he was not sure he would do it again.

"I don't know," he said, "a week away from my family was a long time."