May 25th, 1990 - The Bad Days You Wish You Could Have Back

[Firebrand]

“I woke up early the next morning out at the lake as the sun came up. I”d slept in the bed of my truck the night before and as I looked out at the sun reflecting off of Lake Ray Hubbard, I knew that I’d made the one mistake I couldn’t walk away from some 12 hours before and….I was right. Some one had caught a glimpse of my license plate number as I’d sped away from the robbery I had committed that night. I think I wound up with $52 in the attempt to go score crack cocaine that I was fiending for. I was beyond the point of asking myself “was it worth it?” It was more like I was a slave to it and I didn’t know how to stop. Only death or prison can stop some of us in that shape and maybe the latter of those two is the only way out of it and yet still be able to say one of us is alive.”

There are days that we look back upon in our lives knowing that something for the worse has changed forever which we wish we could have back. May 25th, 1990 was one of those days for me. Twenty two years ago today, I committed an aggravated robbery that would land me in prison here in Texas for the first time. Sadly, it would not be the only time I went there. It was only the beginning of a journey on a road that is yet to end for me personally. Prison is not the end of it once you get out if parole is a part of the picture. The end of a prison sentence is in fact, the end of it whether it be in there or out here and……we’re not there yet; nor will we be until June of 2023. I was 29 years old when I committed this robbery back in the day. If I live this sentence down, I’ll be 62 when I can vote again, leave the state again without permission and know what it is not to have to report someone or pee in a cup upon demand at some district parole office.

I’m grateful for what I have in spite of the fact that at times I look back over my shoulder and know that it’s been a hard path to travel in making it to this point. I saw a man today who just got out of prison here in Texas after serving 10 years flat. Its people like that who consistently show me how much we have to be grateful for. The look in his eye, the humble thanks that he exhibited for the simple things out here that we can forget about or take for granted and the quiet appreciation of a thing called freedom; the newly released, they wear it so well when so many of us who’ve gotten out act as if we’re in a tattered set of clothes that have faded and lost their appeal to be worn.

Still….better the worn out attire of freedom than the look of bondage in a set of prison whites to be endured for all the endless days of one’s existence in a place that many consider to hell on earth located on the other side of a wall some place that is never far enough away.

I am the 3rd member of my immediate family to have to gone to prison here in Texas. My father made one trip back around the tail end of W.W. II when he was 19 years old in which he spent a couple of years at the Walls in Huntsville for being an accessory to aggravated robbery. My older sibling fell in the mid 1970s at the age of 23 for the same offense and spent two years at the Wynne unit which is located in Huntsville, also. I proved to be the late bloomer of the bunch and spent my first rodeo at Eastham for 2 ½ years back in the early 1990s for aggravated robbery.
Dad has been gone now for 12 years after enduring a 4 year battle with cancer that ended in the spring of 2000 while I was assigned to the Neal unit in Amarillo. My older sibling went on to pick up a 2nd degree murder charge in northern California in the early 1980s and he’s now been inside for almost 30 years while serving a 17-LIFE sentence. One of them I can only remember in the past tense and the other one I can’t seem to communicate with very long without some kind of problem always coming about. So…..I don’t know the day when things got of hand for either one of them that first go around, but I can still remember that day very well in my own life; it was today exactly 22 years ago.

And so, when did it begin for you? Do you remember the day that wound up being the one that sent you to prison the first time or maybe the only time? What was it that led to that moment and what was it like as you considered the road ahead in so far as the time to be served in prison? What is your story?

Thoughts from Firebrand

[OffenderNoMore]

I remember the day I wished I could take back. It was June 14, 1994. I had only been out of the Air Force for a few months and came back to Texas. I came back to this state per my mothers' request, which in hindsight was a poor decision on my part. At that time, she was going through a divorce, I was working two jobs and I had a small son to raise. I just could not make enough money to support the three of us. It seemed as though I was always exhausted. That's when I met my old ex friend, Meth. It kept me up, it kept me going, it strung me out. Before long I had a full blown addiction and just could not pay the bills and support my habit. I had long since learned that I had a couple of neat little abilities (well I thought they were neat). I could remember any string of numbers and I could mimic anyone's handwriting. Sooooo, I needed money and did what several before and several since me have done, I created checks, signed them, and then cashed them. I knew the very first time that I cashed one that I would get caught, I knew that I would go to jail but it was a choice that I made and I knew that I would pay for it, sooner or later.

My life spiraled out of control after that, then my grandfather died and I decided to get clean. It was twelve years before I would go to prison for those checks. I lost everything. Then I got strung out again and went back for the second time. I remember being released this last time and thinking wow the world has changed but then I knew it was me who had changed. Every day I am grateful for the very things that others tend to take for granted. I have learned patience, love, work ethics but most of all, I have learned to live life and handle stress drug free and crime free.

Several times, I have thought about the first time I picked up the pipe and the very first check I created and I have thought about all that I have lost, all that my children have lost, the fact that my grandfather died knowing that I was an addict on the run from the law and because I remember that I am content in the small things in life. The smile in my husbands eyes makes me know that I have finally made the right choice. The laughter in my sons voices, the love that I have given and am given lets me know that even though I have hurt so many, even though I have destroyed myself, I have been blessed. So every day, I am thankful to be able to open the screen door and listen to the children play in the daycare across the street. I am grateful to listen to the grumpy old man when he picks up his laundry and I am happy to be free.

[Firebrand]

Man…..that was a beautiful story. You are such a good writer. I feel your pain, too, as well as the joy you communicate. Happy Memorial Day, my sister.

[Real Checker]

I do not think going back to the point where I committed any particular crime and undoing that crime would improve things in my case. I would have just gone and done another crime or even a worse one instead because of the way my thinking operated back then.

On the other hand, after reading these couple of posts above it did get me to doing some serious thinking. I HAVE come up with an precise point in time where if I could go back to it I could have changed my entire destiny. That I can describe, but forgive me if I cannot remember the date ... it was over 4 decades ago.

I was riding a school bus to school one morning and riding with me was my sister Janice (now deceased) and we had just picked up a "new kid" named Joe who I did not know. I was 13 years old and in the 7th grade and I was a real square. I made great grades and only time I got in trouble was when I would do something outrageous in class to try and call attention to myself. I liked to be noticed.

When Joe got on the bus I thought what an interesting kid. He looked cool with a pack of cigarettes tucked under his sleeve and wearing aviator sunglasses. He sat down next to my sister and started flirting with her right away. ( I should mention there is was only a year difference in my sister's age and mine). I was impressed at first sight of Joe. I wanted to be friends with him and I wanted to be like him.

About half a mile from the school the bus started to sputter and spit and then just died on the side of the road. It was about a half a mile from school but about two miles from our neighborhood. Joe and Janice came to the back of the bus where I was sitting and Janice tells me, "Checker, I skipping today and am going over to Joe's house, do you want to come with us?" Then Joe chimes in with, "Say dude, I got some really good acid man, fuck this bus lets go blow our minds in my blacklight room."

Now anyone who grew up during the same period I did will appreciate the full impact of that offer. So up until that very point in time I was a level headed square kid who made good grades and did as he was told. I was outgoing and spontaneous and had all the characteristics I needed to reach my full potential in life. At that exact point in time I was being offered something different. I was being offered a chance to experience the taboo, to live on the edge a little, to fit in with the cool crowd, to become a popular kid via the crowd I hung with, and the temptation was overwhelming and permeated my brain with its seduction.

It was like I saw two paths laid out before me in vivid colors where one path led to the school and it was golden and straight ... predictable and boring. The other path led to Joe's house and it was colorful and winding, unpredictable and exciting where anything could happen and I could just let all my inhibitions go. I stood up and said, "What are we waiting for?" and together we all three when skipping down a path of Life's torment and destruction.

If I could go back to that point in time, I would have stayed on that bus and I would have sat on my sister and forced her to stay on it. I would have never been to prison and most likely would have never committed any crime. My sister would definitely still be alive ... but Joe would still be dead because he had already fallen into the abyss. He died of liver failure while living homeless on the streets of Austin a couple of years ago.

[cameronsgirl226]

I've never been to jail or prison or even been arrested, but thank you all for sharing your stories for all of us to read and be inspired by since a lot of us are dating offenders. Thank you.

[OffenderNoMore]

Originally Posted by Firebrand

Man…..that was a beautiful story. You are such a good writer. I feel your pain, too, as well as the joy you communicate. Happy Memorial Day, my sister.

I have heard the phrase "growing pains" constantly through out my life and even though I have wrought so much pain and destruction in course of my life, I needed to experience those "growing pains" Thank you for the complement, it means so much after having so much of your writing. Your writing is great. Deep and thought provoking is usually what I see when I read it. Have a great weekend brother.

[OffenderNoMore]

Thank you Real Checker! Although that was before my teenage years, I can remember hearing my dad and mom talk about that. The story that comes to mind has to do directly with my mother giving birth to me. My dad had been using Reds and LSD for several years and with the oncoming birth of yours truly, he decided to get clean. He was still detoxing the morning I was born but over the course of my life my dad has said that was the most rewarding moment and most defining moment that reinforced his decision to get clean.

[Firebrand]

Originally Posted by Real Checker

I do not think going back to the point where I committed any particular crime and undoing that crime would improve things in my case. I would have just gone and done another crime or even a worse one instead because of the way my thinking operated back then.

On the other hand, after reading these couple of posts above it did get me to doing some serious thinking. I HAVE come up with an precise point in time where if I could go back to it I could have changed my entire destiny. That I can describe, but forgive me if I cannot remember the date ... it was over 4 decades ago.

I was riding a school bus to school one morning and riding with me was my sister Janice (now deceased) and we had just picked up a "new kid" named Joe who I did not know. I was 13 years old and in the 7th grade and I was a real square. I made great grades and only time I got in trouble was when I would do something outrageous in class to try and call attention to myself. I liked to be noticed.

When Joe got on the bus I thought what an interesting kid. He looked cool with a pack of cigarettes tucked under his sleeve and wearing aviator sunglasses. He sat down next to my sister and started flirting with her right away. ( I should mention there is was only a year difference in my sister's age and mine). I was impressed at first sight of Joe. I wanted to be friends with him and I wanted to be like him.

About half a mile from the school the bus started to sputter and spit and then just died on the side of the road. It was about a half a mile from school but about two miles from our neighborhood. Joe and Janice came to the back of the bus where I was sitting and Janice tells me, "Checker, I skipping today and am going over to Joe's house, do you want to come with us?" Then Joe chimes in with, "Say dude, I got some really good acid man, fuck this bus lets go blow our minds in my blacklight room."

Now anyone who grew up during the same period I did will appreciate the full impact of that offer. So up until that very point in time I was a level headed square kid who made good grades and did as he was told. I was outgoing and spontaneous and had all the characteristics I needed to reach my full potential in life. At that exact point in time I was being offered something different. I was being offered a chance to experience the taboo, to live on the edge a little, to fit in with the cool crowd, to become a popular kid via the crowd I hung with, and the temptation was overwhelming and permeated my brain with its seduction.

It was like I saw two paths laid out before me in vivid colors where one path led to the school and it was golden and straight ... predictable and boring. The other path led to Joe's house and it was colorful and winding, unpredictable and exciting where anything could happen and I could just let all my inhibitions go. I stood up and said, "What are we waiting for?" and together we all three when skipping down a path of Life's torment and destruction.

If I could go back to that point in time, I would have stayed on that bus and I would have sat on my sister and forced her to stay on it. I would have never been to prison and most likely would have never committed any crime. My sister would definitely still be alive ... but Joe would still be dead because he had already fallen into the abyss. He died of liver failure while living homeless on the streets of Austin a couple of years ago.

I enjoyed your story, Checker. The fact that your sister was a part of it all and is now gone is very meaningful. I appreciate what you’ve been through as well as sharing that part of your past. Hope you are doing well.

[Mustardseed]

Wow!! Thanks for sharing guys. That was very touching. I wonder a lot what events lead my man down the wrong path. I have yet to ask though, I'm not sure even he knows. It's hard for anyone to put a finger on the moment in time that changed everything for the worse. I can only hope that my man is able to find the right path to go down as the 3 of you have. Life is just to short to be lost.