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As we entered the CIW — the California Institution for Women — and went through the sign-in procedure and metal detectors, we found ourselves in a large quad surrounded by low buildings, like a 1950s high school campus.

The CIW, located in Corona in Riverside County, is considered the Cadillac of prisons for women. It is where three of us from the Bay Area recently spent all day with Rabbi Moshe Halfon, chaplain for the few dozen Jewish women who are CIW inmates.

Jewish women in prison?

Yes, and they are there serving time not only for white-collar crimes and drug offenses, but also for murder. They are from Southern California, the Bay Area and other parts of the state. More than 90 percent of them have abuse in their backgrounds.

In fact, abuse — both mental and physical — is the common denominator among these women, rich and poor. Abuse!

Elaine Kaplan of San Francisco, Candice Gold of Fairfax and I were invited for a day that was dedicated to talking about domestic violence. Elaine, along with her husband, Michael, have been instrumental in establishing Dream House (for victims of abuse) at the S.F.-based Jewish Family and Children’s Services. Candice, on her own, has arranged donations of clothing to the prison release program.

The three of us walked across the grassy prison yard in the hot sun. The interfaith chapel is an air-conditioned building, which is nice, but what’s more important is that it’s a place of physical and spiritual comfort and solace.

Inside, about 30 women came to join in a very spirited service, filling the air with Hebrew songs, tambourines and dancing; some davened, some chanted. The Torah portion was discussed eloquently by one of the Bay Area inmates. She and another local woman will be sharing a bat mitzvah soon.

After an oneg Shabbat with rye bread and grape juice, the chapel was opened to the larger inmate community for a discussion on domestic violence. The women shared their sacred stories about being victims of violence, as did I. In a world where trust is not easily found, such a revealing discussion is rare and difficult. But on this day, all of that melted away as these women, and I, transcended racial and socioeconomic differences to speak candidly.

At that place and moment, we were all just women — there for one another.

When a woman is in prison for life or an extended sentence, looking forward is difficult, but there are classes in prison to get a degree. I spoke to one woman who had earned an advanced degree in philosophy while behind bars. She told me that looking forward to her classes and tutoring others have kept her spirit alive.

When I asked why she was in prison, a hood came over he sparkling eyes as she told me about the death of her child, who had gotten in the way of a domestic dispute. She had accidentally killed her child. How does a person live with that?

As we broke into small groups, we heard similar stories from other women. We also heard about their drug abuse and dealing.

One woman, incarcerated for a white-collar crime, looked as if she had stepped out of a Jewish federation meeting — well groomed and beautiful, even in her prison uniform. Another woman was a lifer who had been an attorney in her past. Some could have been women the three of us socialized with or had lunch with.

A Jewish spiritual center has been created at the prison, and many women have taken part. Friendships have formed, representing one of the most significant and powerful ingredients of any relationship.

Knowing that the women trusted us enough to share their stories was the most touching thing of all.

When some of them do leave the “safety” of the prison walls, often there is no place to go for housing, and because of state budget cuts, many rehab and job training programs have been eliminated.

What are they to do? Go back into a dangerous situation? Return to prison?

There are Jewish women in other prisons, too. None should be forgotten, because they are all part of our Jewish community.

We are going to try to help. We weren’t tourists. We will be back.

Nancy Goldberg of Tiburon is vice president of the S.F.-based Jewish Family and Children’s Services, immediate past chair of the Jewish Publish Affairs Committee of California and the 2009 Earl Raab Award recipient for outstanding leadership and advocacy on behalf of the Jewish community of California.