THOMASTON – To inmates in the doomed state prison, this is the last Christmas at home.

The brick and stone fortress that first opened in 1824 is due to be demolished and bulldozed into the limestone quarry over which it rose as part of a major makeover of the state corrections system.

Their move early next year to unknown surroundings leaves many inmates – especially those serving long terms – stressed and worried.

“This place is one of the sweetest places in the country to do time,” Scott Waterhouse, who is serving a life sentence, said while working in the prison print shop. He said he would even miss the familiar confines of his present cell.

“You get comfortable after a period of time,” said Waterhouse, who has served 17 years so far. “You have that few feet of space you have some control over.”

The more than 400 inmates who typically live in the close-security compound were supposed to have taken residence in a new prison in neighboring Warren in November. But the process was delayed, perhaps until February, for several reasons.

Guards and prison staff had to be trained to run the new facility, and the elaborate security system has to be checked and rechecked, Warden Jeffrey Merrill said. Then, there are effects of Sept. 11.

The terrorist attacks created a sudden demand for bulletproof, shatterproof glass needed in embassies and other government institutions, delaying deliveries to the new Maine prison.

Corrections officials, realizing that the move to Warren will require considerable staff overtime, decided to scrub the transfer until after the holiday season so officers can spend as much time as possible with their families.

With the delay, inmates must wait several more weeks for the move, although some administrators have already transferred to the new site.

Even though inmates’ new quarters will be better lighted, better appointed for activities and up to the latest standards, some inmates wish the move to the new $75 million complex would never happen.

“There’s a presumption that moving to a new place might be less laid-back and less inmate-friendly,” said Michael Harrell, who has served 19 years of two life sentences. Overall, Harrell sees the move as a positive step because he will get a bigger cell.

With no parole allowed in Maine and a law that prevents sentences from being cut short, many inmates find themselves behind bars for the long haul. In many instances, multiple-year sentences effectively add up to life.

After years with the same cells, inmates grow accustomed to the space, which they view as their home, prison officials say.

Outside their cells but still within the razor wire-topped walls, inmates learn to live within a code spelling out where they can congregate and what they can do. Moving to a new location disrupts that, said state Rep. Stanley Gerzofsky, who sits on the legislative committee that oversees corrections issues.

“They’re very stressed-out,” said Gerzofsky, D-Brunswick, a former prison industries director. “They’re very nervous about this move.”

Waterhouse said his daily routine, which includes going to his printing job, will be disrupted. The new prison has woodworking but no print shop.

“Everything I’ve done for 17 years is being stripped away from me because someone said we needed a new prison,” Waterhouse said.

State officials have long pointed to crowded conditions and failure to meet corrections standards as reasons for vacating and replacing the aging landmark.

“This place is falling apart,” said the prison’s Sgt. Curtiss Doyle.

State officials have noted that prisoners are a low priority for taxpayers, who demand security and order but are not always willing to put up the money for the best of facilities to house them.

“If I’m going to take care of them, I would like to do it in a nice, clean, modern facility,” Doyle said.

Gerzofsky said the state has spent more than $10 million in the past decade upgrading the Thomaston prison with a new roof, control room and facade among the improvements.

He also questions whether spending nearly $4 million to demolish the old facility makes sense at a time the state faces a revenue shortfall estimated at nearly $250 million.

Gerzofsky would like the state to put off the demolition to see if the state can find a buyer. “We don’t have a prospective buyer, but we’ve never put the place up for sale,” he said.

Corrections officials say the cost of bringing the structure up to code would far exceed the cost of demolishing it.

The Legislature set aside $4 million to raze the building and bulldoze it into the former sandstone quarry within its perimeter. Then the site will be transformed into a park.