Days Like These

There are days in here that seem to pass by smoothly. Then, there are days that roll over in a tsunami of stress, prayerful reflection and trying to just hang on. I had a few days like that this week.



It started Monday. Guys had been hitting me up for legal help by the dozens. But, there are only so many hours in the day and, quite frankly, most guys don’t have a case. They’ve either waited too long or they were guilty and no amount of hours from me in the law library will change that.


But success breeds reputation and a week ago one guy for whom I prepared a motion to reopen his case (based on extrinsic fraud) was granted a hearing. Everyone wanted my help.


There’s one guy “TN” who had asked me to prep a Habeas Petition. I told him I would in a few weeks. That led to this exchange in front of my classroom.


TN: Look, either you do my work tonight or I’m wuppin your ass in the bathroom [TN, by the way, is a 6’5” black guy in for attempted murder and armed B&E].


Me: You’re gonna respect the way I do things. I’m helping you, not vice versa.


TN: To the bathroom MoFo.


Me: F--- You! Man up and hit me right here.


The result? TN backed down. In a quieter voice he said “Look man. I’m desperate. I’m beggin’ you. Please help me.”


I’d been threatened before – at receiving - and knew then you can’t back down. When a guy calls you out he’s “frontin” you. He’s looking for a way to save face. It shook me, but I know in here I have to demand respect or things will spiral out of control.


Tuesday night, almost 17 months from her last letter, my ex wrote. The contents of the letter are between us, but it shook me deeply. For almost that entire time I would pray each night for word from her. I knew how I’d react, knew how I’d respond.


When it happened, I did exactly the opposite of what I had meticulously planned. In short, I blew it. I became completely unnerved and reacted incorrectly.


The weird thing was, by the time I went to bed I was back at peace. I lay awake for a few minutes and then recited the 103rd Psalm. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. I had reacted without carefully weighing, thinking and praying.


The next morning, I read the story of Moses killing the Egyptian and then fleeing. In a commentary, the writer noted that Moses reacted impulsively. He failed to trust God. It would later turn out God wasn’t through with Moses. That entire day I thought “How can I undo what I did?” The answer always came back the same: You can only go forward.


Did I blow it? I don’t know. But, I do know God’s involved. He has a plan for my ex, my sons and me. It isn’t going to be what I want; it’ll be what He wants.


I was at work and Ms. H, the teacher I work for in the morning knew I had things weighing me down. She said this to me:


“You give the impression this is easy. You’re smarter than almost anyone here; you’re charming; you have all the teachers fighting over using you in class. Guys all over this place gravitate to you. And you have a blog.”


I tried to explain to her that’s the outside me. Inside I’m lonely, I’m broken.


“People don’t see that on the street. They don’t see the suffering.”


She was right. As Saleem told me, I’m living better in prison than a lot of these guys are outside.


Saleem is an interesting man. He is the leader of the Muslim community. Fifty-eight years old, he’s been locked up 30 years. He owned a business then got greedy. Taking money from his legitimate business, he began running illegal enterprises. He made a ton of cash. It was quick and easy, too easy. One night a deal went bad and he killed a man.


Saleem had never been in a fight his entire life and in one stupid, reckless act he was guilty of capital murder.


He heard me at my worst Tuesday night. Saleem said: “Larry you’re a very good guy. You have a bigger heart than just about anyone I’ve ever met. But, you have to realize, in here you can only do Larry.”


I looked puzzled. “You have no control over the street”, he said. “You can’t make your ex or your kids or the Governor do anything. I see you at 4:00 every morning praying. I believe you’re a man of God. That means, put it in His hands and trust Him.”


I realized that’s how Saleem, DC and Ty do their time, by remembering they have little control in their life. What they do is keep their minds and their faith strong. So I survived. I didn’t handle things the way I wanted, but I made it through. I went to the law library and typed TN’s Habeas Petition and waited for tomorrow.

Shelter from the Storm

I’ve had another lousy week. That’s not completely accurate. I had another terrible week through Friday. The constant bombardment of bad news received almost every day has been wearing me down.



In the last few weeks I discovered my attorney screwed up my 401(k) surrender (I used my 401(k) to make partial restitution). I had to hire an accountant to handle my 2009 income tax returns. He arranged a filing extension through October 15th. I learned about ten days ago I owe an additional $7,000 in Federal and State taxes. Let’s see, at 45 cents an hour . . . .


I had to file my appeal to the Virginia Supreme Court after the trial judge dismissed my initial Habeas petition. I had my initial “annual review” with my counselor. Just seeing my release date so many years in the future brought me down.


I read daily about embezzlement cases where the sentence is a mere fraction of mine. The most recent, a Federal Judge in Harrisonburg, Virginia sentenced a corporate manager who stole just under $1 million to 30 months in prison. I took $2.1 million but paid more than $500,000 in restitution the day I was sentenced, yet still received over five times that other man’s sentence.


Then there’s my ex and kids. I sent her a card telling her how sorry I was and how much I missed her and our sons. Did I expect a response? No. But then, I guess I secretly did hope she’d write back. As I have for the last year, I again heard nothing.


I couldn’t shake the thought that everything I had was lost and there was no way out. I’d been busting my butt trying to help guys in here to the point that I felt like a trauma room surgeon at the scene of a natural disaster. Hundreds of people are lined up and I’m alone, with no medication, no bandages, nothing but a rusty, dull saw. I go to chow and guys stop me. “Heh lawyer Larry (my prison tag) can you look at my papers?” or “Heh double L, can they really take my good time?” “Kites (notes)” are sent to me daily. Guys stop me on the boulevard asking for “just two minutes of time.” I was in a place for substantially longer than I deserved. I had been abandoned and betrayed by people I thought loved me. I had years left to do. Guys were pulling me in a hundred directions.


I had done everything I could to make this right. I protected my family. I stood up, faced the court and admitted everything, no excuses, no buts. And everything I did right was used against me.


The teachers I work for, the old heads I’m close to, Big S, all said the same thing: “you matter to people here and you did the right thing. You’re gonna get through this.” I had a hard time believing that.


As I’ve said before, I love Bob Dylan music. One of my favorites from Blood on the Tracks (an album Dylan wrote to deal with a painful divorce) has always been “shelter from the storm”. I always equated that song with my wife.


“I came in from the wilderness
A creature void of form
Come in she said
I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”


Over and over I would think of that song and others and feel down. I was close to giving up, ready to drop my case and just be like so many other locked up guys and just move from day to day not giving a damn about anyone or anything.


And just when you think no one’s listening, something happens to convince you otherwise. A guy in my building came by Friday afternoon with a card from his mom. This young black kid – late twenties – is in here on a serious crime. He’s been locked up nine years already and has seven more to go. I agreed to help him after sitting with him and talking about what happened. He let me read his transcript and see all the evidence. It wasn’t pretty, but he was honest and remorseful. The card his mom sent had one paragraph in it he wanted me to see. It said the following:


“Our prayer circle is praying for your lawyer fried. He’s the first man we’ve felt understood what this means. May God help and bless him.”


He told me his mom “knew in her heart” something positive would happen. “She believes God put you here for a reason” he told me.


I was stunned. My wife and kids gave up on me. Friends turned away. Yet here was this woman I didn’t know who felt moved to believe in me. I went out and ran and thought over and over what does it mean? I came in and read my afternoon Bible verse. Jeremiah 29, verses 4 through 14. God, through Jeremiah spoke to his captive people in Babylon. “For I know the plans I have for you . . ..” The whole passage is about God reminding his people that even though they’re in captivity He has not forgotten them. He will restore them. Let your life go on with faith. He will deliver you.


That night I made pizzas with Jerry Lee, Black and Big S. They know what I’d been going through. I asked them what they thought about my situation, the letter, and Jeremiah. Jerry Lee thought a moment then told me that sometimes we forget just how courageous, just how faithful we really are in the midst of difficulties. “Give yourself a break. You’re a tough, righteous man. You have positive energy. Guys see it.”


I still don’t know why all this is happening to me. But, I do believe that I matter, maybe not to the woman and sons I love, or the supposed friends I lost. I matter to a large group of people that society seems to have given up on. And, I matter to my God. One way or the other I’m going to get through this.


I’m still finding shelter from the storm. It’s just coming from a more reliable source.