14 November 2009

Facing the Embarrassment

It has occurred to me that I really can't go forward with this blog or any other part of my life until I make a statement about last weekend's disastrous turn of events. Some of you - possibly all of you - might feel it hypocritical of me to avoid the topic and continue living and writing as though it had never happened.

From Friday afternoon until early Monday evening I was in jail. This cannot possibly shock you more than it did me. By this time, everybody is probably aware of the circumstances and behaviors which led to my arrest. I recalled at the moment of the arrest the words I'd read so many years ago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn at the beginning of his famous book The Gulag Archipelago. He described how earth shattering and life-changing those simple words are: "You are under arrest."

For many years up to that point you have lived in freedom, because you have never done anything which could be used as an excuse by those in authority to interrupt or end your freedom. Then the words are spoken and your life seems to have ended. None of the things you could do before, none of the places you could go before, none of the things you could wear before, none of the things you could carry before, and few of the behaviors which might have been typical of you before are available to you any more. Literally everything you do, say, wear, and eat is controlled by others. Some of them are smug twenty-somethings who exult in their power to look down on you and control you and tell you where to stand and when to speak and where to go.

I was a jailer for 4 brief months back in 1980. I did not enjoy the work. I felt guilt all the time, even though I knew that many of my charges were absolutely guilty of the crimes with which they were charged. What I was doing to these people always seemed to me to be infinitely worse than what they had done. I simply couldn't justify it and was relieved to leave that job and start back to school under the old GI Bill.

In none of this language do I pretend that I have been treated unjustly. Neither do I pretend that I have been treated fairly. I simply express here the opinion that we as humans have a very warped and vastly imperfect notion of justice and no notion at all of mercy.

There were in the jail a number of men who clearly belonged there. They had no empathy for anyone. They could not look upon anyone's suffering and feel some of it themselves. I assume that they got where they are by a long, unbroken series of wrong choices, reaching back into their childhoods.

Others were clearly as mystified and bewildered as I was about the whole thing. Yes, we clearly understood the nature of the charges against us, but we had never believed that anyone would seek vengeance for days and days over a momentary failing, no matter how serious it was. And it was serious. One fellow there, named Mark, was from Arkansas. He was dangerously thin and said he couldn't put on weight no matter what he tried. I shared some of my food with him, but I'm sure he walked it all off, because he would walk laps around the common area after each meal. He asked at one point whether he could call me for a ride to Preston when he gets out in April. I quickly thought it through. If I didn't give him my last name or address and gave him only a cell phone number, I didn't see how he could use such information to my detriment. So I gave it to him.

On a later occasion, as I stood watching a boring football game which seemed to enthrall all the other inmates, he appeared quietly by my side. Then he said, "I can tell that you're a good man." He said it straight faced. I was both surprised and amused. "Mark," I replied chuckling, "I'm in jail! How good a man could I be?" But he wouldn't be argued out of his position. I sensed that, except for some weakness which he hasn't yet conquered, he was a good man, too. He knew the Nashville and Franklin areas and knew the temple there.

So I'm going to write to him and try to encourage him. I don't know just what to say. I'll have to depend heavily on the Spirit for that, I suppose.

At the arraignment I was told to get enrolled in the VA medical program and to take all meds faithfully which are prescribed to me. On the 19th, I'll go back to see the judge. He'll then decide whether to dismiss the thing or ask me to plead to something lesser. We've already since then been to the VA in SLC and I have an appointment with their pshrink for the 20th. The phrase at Lackland Air Force Base was "Cooperate and graduate." That is what I hope to do.

6 comments:

Autumn said...

We all still love you, you know. :) It is sometimes by admitting our imperfections we become more dear to those we love. And as you so often have told me in the past, if we learn from and grow from our mistakes, they can become true blessings. Our trials serve a purpose even if we do not fully understand, and even if we fail. I do not mean to patronize or placate. I can just relate. And as one who has frequently fallen, and fallen hard, I know how much it meant to look up expecting reproaches and only find love in my Dad's eyes. Love that never diminished for an instant, and love that somehow seemed to intensify as you saw my imperfections and struggles. It seemed however hard I struggled, you loved me equally that much more--cus you knew I needed it. And you were right. It's that kind of love that I and those who love you feel for you right now. We want you to be happy and we know you can be. I love you, Dad. I am still proud to be your daughter. I still look up to you more than you will ever probably realize. I learned last weekend how to love you more and deeper. I do not regret the lesson or the love. I never could or would.

Love you,
Aubey

James and Aimee said...

Dear Uncle Jim,

I want to thank you for writing this post. I'm not as good with words as Autumn is, but I will try my best to express my thoughts. I appreciate your willingness to talk openly about your experiences. It quickly removes speculation, which I don't think is very healthy to any family relationships. It shows us the courage you have and it also expresses your love to us. I don't think you would have written this if you didn't care. I've always felt that you do care. And I want you to know that I love you too. You are in my prayers.

Love,
Aimee

Sister Snoopy said...

I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry...

And that my respect for you has NOT diminished.

None of us are perfect, save One who understands justice and mercy completely.

Eve said...

This is the first I heard of your "unfortunate incarceration." We don't get the family gossip up here in IF. lol I'm sorry you've had a trial none of us ever expects to have. Glad it's inspired you to be more careful about your meds and take better care of yourself. Good luck with your return to see the judge.

nanajohanna said...

I appreciate your comments and the clarification they bring. I also want to compliment you and Sheryl on handling a difficult situation so well. You've come through it with your relationship intact, if not unchanged, perhaps even improved. I'm also happy that you found a way to make something good come of it all, by making a friend and helping another person; even in your own "darkest hour." Way to go, both you and Sheryl!

Joseph and Mary + Seven said...

WE LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT!!

My Favorite Books & Authors

  • Dale Brown
  • Mark Twain
  • Charles Dickens
  • Speeches both Historical and Hysterical
  • Damon Runyon
  • Jan Karon Mitford Novels
  • Clive Cussler
  • Tom Clancy Novels
  • Harry Potter
  • The Works of Ernest Thompson Seton