The address on the front of the building simply reads 266 Water St. There are lots of Water Streets in America and even a few others in Kentucky, but this one is not exactly a place you want to call home.

At 266 Water St. in Eddyville sits the Kentucky State Penitentiary, where about 900 men of all ages reside.

I had the opportunity recently to visit the 125-year-old facility only as a tourist, and was it ever an eye-opener.

For most Kentuckians, the name Eddyville is synonymous with the prison, and for those who have seen it from the outside, it’s easy to see why it is referred to as the “Castle on the Cumberland.”

Built on a hill overlooking the Cumberland River, the medieval castle-like structure is quite imposing. I can only imagine how overpowering it must be when viewing it from a fishing boat or sailboat on the river below.

The huge blocks of granite were cut from the earth near the site in 1884 and it took a legion of Italian stonemasons two years to construct the original compound. Just to see this place from the outside is worth the trip.

Steep steps lead to the front door, which opens into a small foyer only a few paces from where the first set of iron bars is located. A sign on the wall in large red letters states that anyone who enters is subject to a body frisk.

Those among us taking the tour knew this was no laughing matter – it was serious. From the outset, I knew this was not going to be what might be referred to as a fun trip. But we weren’t there to have fun. We were there for the experience, to see what very few others get to see – how our state deals with the criminal population.

Doug Gibson, a former parole board member with the Kentucky Justice and Public Safety Cabinet from Elizabethtown, arranged the trip and his knowledge of the correctional system greatly added to the experience.

Make no mistake about it, Eddyville is a maximum security facility, the only one in the state. To enter we had to empty everything in our pockets, and I mean everything. The only thing we were allowed was our driver’s license.

After walking through the metal detector, we were gathered in a small area where two prison administrators gave us a briefing about what we would be seeing over the next couple of hours, as well as explaining the five distinct custody levels that make up the prison’s population. The general group, which is the largest, wears khaki; protective custody, Kelly green; segregated, canary yellow; a small group of minimum security inmates wears dark green; and death row inmates wear a bright scarlet red.

Our group moved from one area to another, stopping occasionally for our guides to explain what was around us and why these particular prisoners were located here. The segregated section was probably the most imposing. No cells with bars here; only steel-faced doors with a foot or so of Plexiglas to peer either in or out. We were told those here were not only threats to guards, but prisoners as well. For them it was 23 hours a day in a cell and one hour in what was described as an exercise area.

Death row, believe it or not, appeared to be the most modern, and temperature-wise the most comfortable of all the areas we visited. Still, it is not a good place to be.

The nearby death house brought it all together in that over the years this has been the final stop for a handful of prisoners.

The electric chair is still there, but no longer used. By law, lethal injection is used to carry out the maximum punishment. The last execution at Eddyville was Nov. 21, 2008.

Most of the prison population works. The woodworking shop, DVD recycling shop, auto body repair and garment plant were all in full operation. The garment shop is considered one of the best areas to work in as they make all the prison uniforms for correction facilities throughout Kentucky.

A bright spot of it all has been the recent introduction of a dog training program. And a couple of them could be seen as we walked across the prison yard among the khaki-wearing inmates.

It’s somewhat ironic that these dogs were saved from euthanasia, turned over to be trained by inmates and then released to the outside by individuals who may never have the same opportunity.

Our tour concluded in Warden Phillip Parker’s office, where he spoke about prison life and how, as bad as it is, it might be getting better: fewer fights, fewer disruptions, more rehab programs and more opportunities to become a better person, he said.

Working his way through the Kentucky Correctional System beginning in 1978, Parker seemed to have a good rapport with his staff as well as some of the inmates when he strolled through the yard.

As our group exited, we collectively took a deep breath, all agreeing that the visit had been a very sobering experience to say the least. It was educational while at the same time it had a depressing effect on us.

Inside one could not help but notice how clean the prison was, but we could never overlook what appeared to be the miles and miles of razor wire almost everywhere we looked.

For sure, the intention is for no one to leave unless escorted by a correctional officer through the front door at 266 Water St.

And thank goodness we were.

— Gary West’s column runs monthly in the Daily News. He can be reached by emailing west1488@insightbb.com.