"Heroin made me walk again. You don't believe it? Let me tell you a story." Sidney was new to the support group. He was a stocky man in his late forties. His hair was beginning to turn grey but his voice was strong and clear. "I had a stroke a few years back. I was lying flat on my back in the hospital. I couldn't move the right side of my body. I couldn't speak very well. As I started to get my speech back, I kept asking for my wife. It was several days before she could understand what I was trying to tell her. Finally she got my message. I want some heroin, I told her. Now you have to understand, my wife is a churchwoman. She doesn't do drugs, she doesn't drink, and she doesn't tolerate people who do. She is my wife but she hates my addictions. I think she loves me but she doesn't like the way I live. She is a fine woman and I respect her. However, no one else came to visit me. She was the only one. I began to plead with her to get me some heroin. I begged her. I threatened her as much as a man paralyzed can do. Nothing helped. No matter how much I tried, she refused.
When she would leave the hospital, I would spend the rest of the day trying to move just one toe. it took me nearly two weeks but finally, I could move one toe. Little by little, I practiced moving that one toe, and finally, I got another toe to wiggle. By the end of three weeks, I could move my whole foot. From there and in a month, I could move my leg and then my arm. In the second month I was released from the hospital. My wife took care of me at home. Every day she was gone to her job, I forced myself to do a little more. Eventually, I could walk to the kitchen. Once I could walk to the kitchen, I could walk out the door. It was a short walk to cop some dope. I got my heroin.
I know that if it weren't for heroin, I would still be paralyzed. Of course I got arrested shortly after that but as you can plainly see, I can walk just fine. It was the heroin that made me walk. I didn't walk too far but I proved one thing. If you want to do something...anything bad enough, you can do whatever you need to do to get it."
Friday, March 19, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
Baseball, The Great American Sport
Yancey's hand has a huge bandage. His small face, large dark eyes, and slim body all seemed minimized by the bandage. "I lost three fingers in the dough mixing machine. I was working in the bakery. I was my first real job. I was pushing dough in the machine because it was going so slow. It ripped off three of my fingers. When I went to the hospital, the cops arrested me for a drug sale. Can you imagine? I was in the hospital screaming about my fingers when they came in."
That was two days ago and Yancey was recuperating from the accident. A few days later, Yancey asked me if there was a GED class in the building. "I'm twenty years old and I was studying for my test before I got arrested. I will get out of here soon and I want to pass the test so that I can apply to college. You see, I am a very good baseball player. I want to get a college scholarship so I can play. Then I will get seen by a baseball scout and I will play in the major leagues. I know that I an good enough. I was studying for the test before the accident and I am not going to stop now just because I got hurt. You know, there is a baseball player with only one arm. If he can do that, I can play with three less fingers."
If you ever hear about a baseball player who plays with three missing fingers, it will be Yancey. He is so determined. I hope he makes it.
That was two days ago and Yancey was recuperating from the accident. A few days later, Yancey asked me if there was a GED class in the building. "I'm twenty years old and I was studying for my test before I got arrested. I will get out of here soon and I want to pass the test so that I can apply to college. You see, I am a very good baseball player. I want to get a college scholarship so I can play. Then I will get seen by a baseball scout and I will play in the major leagues. I know that I an good enough. I was studying for the test before the accident and I am not going to stop now just because I got hurt. You know, there is a baseball player with only one arm. If he can do that, I can play with three less fingers."
If you ever hear about a baseball player who plays with three missing fingers, it will be Yancey. He is so determined. I hope he makes it.
Monday, February 22, 2010
It Is Always a Woman
Leo is very upset about being in jail. He cries copious tears and has a very difficult time controlling himself well enough to be understood. This is particularly unsettling coming from a 6'5", two hundred and fifty pound man who would honor a football team, at least in size.
Between sobs, I was able to learn that Leo had spent the last year, and the first year of being out of prison as a model citizen. He fully intended to stay out of trouble and stay on the streets. However, as may be expected, a woman was the cause of his problem. Actually, it was the woman's cousin who really caused the problem.
Troy, Leo's fiance's cousin asked him to drive him to New York to pick up his daughter. Leo had been living in New Jersey and came to New York as infrequently as possible. Leo said that he wanted to avoid trouble. Troy, newly arrived from Atlanta, had never been to New York but his ex-wife lived there with his five year old daughter. Marie, Leo's fiancee, asked for this favor. Leo was reluctant but was finally persuaded to go to New York to pick up Troy's daughter. Marie and Leo waited in the car while Troy went into the house to get Jesse, his daughter. About fifteen minutes later, Troy returned without Jesse. Troy said that Jesse went to visit her grandmother and the trip was wasted.
As the three started back to New Jersey, a patrol car signaled them to stop. Leo, always afraid of the police and worried about being in New York, a violation of his parole to leave the state, panicked and tried to out run the police. He was driving too fast and hit a parked car. The police pulled them over. Leo was arrested to hitting the parked car and refusing to obey the officer's order to stop.
Somehow a package of drugs was found under the car when the officer stopped the car. Although it would be hard to prove that the drugs had been in the car, it was hard to prove that Leo had not violated his parole by being in New York. It was also hard to prove that Leo has not obeyed the officer's order to stop the car.
The damage to the parked car was not in debate. Leo's tears of sadness were also not in debate.
When I asked Leo why he had been upstate, he said that it was a drug sale conviction. I wondered why Leo was so devastated by the news that Troy was buying drugs, because surely, having been in the drug business himself, he might have been suspicious of Troy's eagerness to go to New York. Leo's explanation made sense. "I thought Troy was too new to New York to have made any connection That's why I believed him." Leo continue to cry and nothing anyone can say seems to help.
Between sobs, I was able to learn that Leo had spent the last year, and the first year of being out of prison as a model citizen. He fully intended to stay out of trouble and stay on the streets. However, as may be expected, a woman was the cause of his problem. Actually, it was the woman's cousin who really caused the problem.
Troy, Leo's fiance's cousin asked him to drive him to New York to pick up his daughter. Leo had been living in New Jersey and came to New York as infrequently as possible. Leo said that he wanted to avoid trouble. Troy, newly arrived from Atlanta, had never been to New York but his ex-wife lived there with his five year old daughter. Marie, Leo's fiancee, asked for this favor. Leo was reluctant but was finally persuaded to go to New York to pick up Troy's daughter. Marie and Leo waited in the car while Troy went into the house to get Jesse, his daughter. About fifteen minutes later, Troy returned without Jesse. Troy said that Jesse went to visit her grandmother and the trip was wasted.
As the three started back to New Jersey, a patrol car signaled them to stop. Leo, always afraid of the police and worried about being in New York, a violation of his parole to leave the state, panicked and tried to out run the police. He was driving too fast and hit a parked car. The police pulled them over. Leo was arrested to hitting the parked car and refusing to obey the officer's order to stop.
Somehow a package of drugs was found under the car when the officer stopped the car. Although it would be hard to prove that the drugs had been in the car, it was hard to prove that Leo had not violated his parole by being in New York. It was also hard to prove that Leo has not obeyed the officer's order to stop the car.
The damage to the parked car was not in debate. Leo's tears of sadness were also not in debate.
When I asked Leo why he had been upstate, he said that it was a drug sale conviction. I wondered why Leo was so devastated by the news that Troy was buying drugs, because surely, having been in the drug business himself, he might have been suspicious of Troy's eagerness to go to New York. Leo's explanation made sense. "I thought Troy was too new to New York to have made any connection That's why I believed him." Leo continue to cry and nothing anyone can say seems to help.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Subways Are For...
Greg was a very neat, small man. He was immaculately groomed. I don't know how he managed to iron his clothes but his pants always had a knife crease and his shirt were perfectly pressed. Since there are no such services in jail and residents don't have closets, he was unique.
"I am an expert on the New York subways system. I have always lived for the subways since I was a young child. I read everything that was ever printed about them. I know the history of every line. I can tell you when it was built, how it was built, and why it was built. I can tell you the architect, the engineer, and the company that built the cars. I would rather talk about the subways than anything else in the world. Even when I am home, I would rather read about the subway than make love to my wife. Would you say that I was obsessed by subways?
All I wanted to do when I grew up was to work as a subway conductor. I am an expert. I have even written a book about the subway and it is published. You can buy it in stores. I have the best collection of memorabilia in the country. I spent all my money buying information about the New York subway. There are somethings that are not for sale. Unfortunately, I felt that I had to have them anyway. That is why I am in jail."
Greg is still in jail because the district attorney is trying to make a case for grand larceny. By law there must be a law library in every jail to help residents look for ways to help themselves and their public defenders. I asked Grey if there was any precident for materials stolen from non-circulating libraries. Surely this is not the first incident of stolen books and I wonder how many people had been jailed for eight months without going to trial.
Greg returned the books, refurbished them and has offered to pay restitution. So far, the district attorney had refused and apparently has decided to take the case to trial. I wonder if the expense of keeping Greg in jail for these many months and the cost of the impending trial was a good use of tax payer money.
"I am an expert on the New York subways system. I have always lived for the subways since I was a young child. I read everything that was ever printed about them. I know the history of every line. I can tell you when it was built, how it was built, and why it was built. I can tell you the architect, the engineer, and the company that built the cars. I would rather talk about the subways than anything else in the world. Even when I am home, I would rather read about the subway than make love to my wife. Would you say that I was obsessed by subways?
All I wanted to do when I grew up was to work as a subway conductor. I am an expert. I have even written a book about the subway and it is published. You can buy it in stores. I have the best collection of memorabilia in the country. I spent all my money buying information about the New York subway. There are somethings that are not for sale. Unfortunately, I felt that I had to have them anyway. That is why I am in jail."
Greg is still in jail because the district attorney is trying to make a case for grand larceny. By law there must be a law library in every jail to help residents look for ways to help themselves and their public defenders. I asked Grey if there was any precident for materials stolen from non-circulating libraries. Surely this is not the first incident of stolen books and I wonder how many people had been jailed for eight months without going to trial.
Greg returned the books, refurbished them and has offered to pay restitution. So far, the district attorney had refused and apparently has decided to take the case to trial. I wonder if the expense of keeping Greg in jail for these many months and the cost of the impending trial was a good use of tax payer money.
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Street of Fashion
Sean was the Madison Avenue Bandit. They even had his picture posted on pole in areas that had expensive antique stores. They even drew a small mask around his eyes. "I hate that poster. My mother saw it and I was very embarrassed. Just because I only went to the eigth grade in school doesn't mean I don't know about fine art. I can tell a fake, a reproduction, or a damaged piece in seconds. Sometimes a piece of fine crystal has been sitting in the sun too long. If you know what you are looking for, you see that the streaks are permanent. They won't come out.
I know which marks an artist uses and I can tell if someone is trying to pass some mark as if it is real. I can tell you what date silver was made and what it's worth. I can tell an original from a copy. I know about brush strokes and pigment. I could appraise a painting for other people but I don't deal in paintings too much myself. Painting is fragile and I would never hurt a fine work of art.
I was a consultant to other people. They would ask me what I thought they could get for it. Look, we aren't talking about people who are going to sell things at Christy's or Sotheby's. The people who brought things to me wanted to know what they could expect from our client/buyers. People bring me stuff. I know who will buy it and not ask questions. I used to hang around the diamond district. People knew where to find me. They knew I was an expert just like the diamond merchants. I was in good company...the company of experts. Sure I can talk to you. I am doing my time. I am out of business."
I know which marks an artist uses and I can tell if someone is trying to pass some mark as if it is real. I can tell you what date silver was made and what it's worth. I can tell an original from a copy. I know about brush strokes and pigment. I could appraise a painting for other people but I don't deal in paintings too much myself. Painting is fragile and I would never hurt a fine work of art.
I was a consultant to other people. They would ask me what I thought they could get for it. Look, we aren't talking about people who are going to sell things at Christy's or Sotheby's. The people who brought things to me wanted to know what they could expect from our client/buyers. People bring me stuff. I know who will buy it and not ask questions. I used to hang around the diamond district. People knew where to find me. They knew I was an expert just like the diamond merchants. I was in good company...the company of experts. Sure I can talk to you. I am doing my time. I am out of business."
Monday, January 4, 2010
No Credit Cards, Cash Only
"When they picked me up, I was living at the Waldorf-Astoria Tower. I always live well because no cheap place will take checks." Jeff is a very elegant, well-spoken gentleman. It is not a surprising considering that he was graduated from a first rate ivy university after attending a prestigious prep school.
"My first arrest came after a million dollar con. I can sell anything. That time I sold a manufacturing plant that hadn't been built. I spent less than two years in jail and most of that was used in trying to convince the court that I was not competent to stand trial. I can sell anything. I was the top car salesman in the company. I have had four Rolls Royces, two at the same time. I had a successful flooring company in Cleveland. I can do it legal and I can do it illegal. I do whatever comes along. Does that make me mentally incompetent? Can I use that defense again?
"My first arrest came after a million dollar con. I can sell anything. That time I sold a manufacturing plant that hadn't been built. I spent less than two years in jail and most of that was used in trying to convince the court that I was not competent to stand trial. I can sell anything. I was the top car salesman in the company. I have had four Rolls Royces, two at the same time. I had a successful flooring company in Cleveland. I can do it legal and I can do it illegal. I do whatever comes along. Does that make me mentally incompetent? Can I use that defense again?
Friday, December 11, 2009
Don't Bother Mr, I'm Working
Lloyd asked me for some bottle caps. "I'm losing me skill by being idle in here. I run a Three-Card Monte operation on 42nd Street. Actually, I use bottle caps and hide the pea." Lloyd is too fat, too sloppy, and too silly for anyone to take him seriously. The other residents, especially the younger ones made fun of him. They thought he was slow, maybe dim-witted. He wanted to be taken for a fool. He wanted people to think he was none too bright and that he could easily be taken advantage.
After he practiced with his bottle caps for awhile, some of the other residents tried to challenge him. For several days they took all of his cigarettes. When they were sure they could beat most of the time, Lloyd suggested a few small wagers. After he had taken all their money and their commissary, he had them doing his laundry, bringing him his meals, and running little errands for him, he stopped.
One day he took me aside and said, " Don't ever come watch if you see me on the street. When I'm working, I can't watch out for you. I know you are smart enough not to play me, but my partners will pick your pockets clean. They don't know that you and I are friends. Just wink at me when you go by and let me know you remember me."
I keep a watch out for Lloyd and I know that one day I will see him and I will wink as I go by.
After he practiced with his bottle caps for awhile, some of the other residents tried to challenge him. For several days they took all of his cigarettes. When they were sure they could beat most of the time, Lloyd suggested a few small wagers. After he had taken all their money and their commissary, he had them doing his laundry, bringing him his meals, and running little errands for him, he stopped.
One day he took me aside and said, " Don't ever come watch if you see me on the street. When I'm working, I can't watch out for you. I know you are smart enough not to play me, but my partners will pick your pockets clean. They don't know that you and I are friends. Just wink at me when you go by and let me know you remember me."
I keep a watch out for Lloyd and I know that one day I will see him and I will wink as I go by.
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