If you decide to read this (and it’s a lot). I ask that you finish it... My experience (my entire journey) may surprise you, it might not…. I hope none of you ever have to deal with our legal system in any capacity. Obviously this story is from my perspective (my opinion).
Am I embarrassed putting these pictures up and bearing my soul?....NO....I don't see the benefit in kinda telling my story. Its either all or nothing. No sense in diffusing a bomb after its already gone off.
I want to be clear about one thing: although I am going to write at great length about how our Justice system is broken…. despite this broken system... THIS SITUATION IS MY FAULT.
I purchased painkillers in Mexico and then attempted to bring them back into the United States, which is illegal. I also lied to the Border Agent about who the pain killers were for (more on that later). I was a mess at that point in my life and had no business being in Mexico. I feel strongly about being completely transparent on this matter. But please don’t confuse my transparency with any message other than I am to blame for what happened.
So if you don't want to hear my story & thoughts on what happened....stop here & know that I take full responsibility for my actions. I created this mess, it's on me.
Nobody wants to hear people complain. This is my story....from my perspective....covering a lot of ground.
My views towards the legal process and incarceration were challenged in such an extreme way that is almost unexplainable. In essence, I believe the process is a train wreck, and the legal system is broken. While I acknowledge my culpability in certain aspects, I was not guilty of the initial charge the prosecution insisted upon (meth trafficking). I am in conflict as I write this, as I acknowledge the need for punishment in my circumstances, yet dispute the specific government charges.
Some background is necessary: while you read this, you may find yourself shaking your head in disbelief multiple times. There are parts of this story that are that are so unbelievable they seem to be chapters taken from a fiction novel. Still, I promised to be completely honest about my whole experience.
As I tell my truth about what happened, I'm uncertain about what I can say to convince anyone of my version of events. I think people make up their mind on stuff like this before they even hear a word. I was indeed arrested for something I did not do, but I pleaded guilty to something I did do. I don't see the benefit of lying about that little distinction. Either you believe my story or you don't, but regardless, I've served my time. So, while I may argue that certain events in this experience were unfair, ultimately, it was my actions that led to my arrest. I messed up big time. It's not easy to admit that, and although prison was the worst experience of my life, it also may have saved it.
So, as you read this, remember that I am fully aware of how foolish my actions were. I had numerous blind spots when it came to serving an addiction to pain killers. Some of my actions were so dumb it reminds of the idiot things people do in horror films (like conveniently tripping when the killer is chasing you). But when you reflect on a period of your life where you handled things badly there’s a clarity when you realize there is nothing more to be embarrassed about. Telling the truth is the only play left.
So here goes:
I've struggled with painkillers since my mid-20s. What began as a need for pain control from a back injury evolved into using medication as a way to cope with life's challenges. Let me be honest about this subject…I enjoy the feeling that painkillers provided me. My ultimate quest has been finding something I care more about than the painkiller high. Ultimately, I did find something that I care more about…and I discovered it in the most unexpected place—prison.
In high school, I suffered a back injury in a car accident, setting the stage for constant, everyday pain, that just become part of life. After college, a rare pelvic floor injury added to my struggles, leading to years of substantial pain. Although I eventually found therapists who helped, I didn't stop taking painkillers. Suboxone, a useful tool against addiction, had not been invented yet (See a separate post on addiction). It’s my belief that most medications, even beneficial ones, come with a cost. Abusing medications made me sound, look, and feel like I was on drugs, affecting me profoundly even at acceptable doses.
So, what did I discover that was important enough to me to make me want to stop taking medications I was so clearly dependent on? The answer was the profound clarity and ability to operate at the highest of levels…. Levels I can only reach when I’m sober and/or off of medications. Prison, where drugs were more accessible than you can possibly imagine...I was forced to choose sobriety in the most challenging of environments. This focused my effort on rediscovering my capabilities.
I used pills to help with pain and avoid dealing with life…life felt easier when I was high. Before my arrest, I was at my heaviest (380lbs), in terrible shape, spending a fortune on my habit, and connecting with people who could supply pills. While I loved to party and had indulged in various substances, I had drawn a line drawn at meth (or drugs with needles)...as if that matters. Ironically, my perception of being addicted to a more acceptable drug was shattered, as addicts don't get to pick one drug over another. No let me be clear I am not in any positon to judge when it comes drugs. I loved partying (and since I hate when people sugar coat this topic)....let me be even more clear...I used cocaine, ecstasy, & weed (I even tried shrooms). But no meth. That's just the truth.
A preface to my arrest.
In 2018, a few years after California legalized cannabis I began working in the cannabis industry (Randomly through my music & movie contacts), I identified a personal goal of bringing organization to the chaos I saw in the industry. Sounds crazy rt? Well it was....but also the cannabis industry is such a disaster...if it ever got its act together there could be some scary players/money makers. About a year before my arrest, I worked with a worker/grower named Vince who had amazing connections to high quality cannabis. This encounter ultimately led to my arrest for importing methamphetamine, a substance I've never had anything to do with. My trial was the first time I had ever seen methamphetamine.
Vince introduced me to his cannabis sources, and our relationship evolved. I sought access to his bosses at the farms he worked with. This connection played a role in meeting the head of their Southern California farms, leading to discussions about a larger partnership selling their high grade cannabis. I visited various farms in Encinitas, Lake Elsinore, Temecula, Vista, San Diego, etc., all run by these guys. Some of Vince’s farms are near the Mexico Otay Mesa (Tijuana) border.
My primary interest was weed but I also learned they had painkiller connections, and I became interested in taking advantage of that as well. Vince’s boss indicated he had a doctor/family member in Mexico who could easily supply various painkillers if I was interested. Since I was in close proximity, I traveled into Mexico to meet with their doctor connection to purchase painkillers in bulk.
If you stopped there and are thinking what an idiot... YES, YOU ARE CORRECT. Going to Mexico to buy pain killers, what could possibly go wrong?
It gets worse. For these cannabis trips I drove a worn-down Lexus sedan, nothing impressive. I am terrible driver and treat cars badly (so for the purposes of driving, and not caring, this car was perfect). I had used my car in the pursuit of cannabis connections at various farms all over California. This poor car has been through it. It had to be towed out of a dirt lot in Chico, and pushed out of a ditch after it rained and got stuck in San Diego. As farms are mostly in deserted areas connected by dirt roads this car was not the ideal vehicle to reach those locations or to transport weed.
Considering the limitations of my car, I was offered Vince’s truck (this truck was purchased by Vince with commissions he received WORKING FOR ME) to use to visit their farms. I should have never driven any car other than mine into Mexico. I was applying for the sentry fast track pass (the fast track pass allows you to bypass the wait and just drive through the border). I figured it didn’t matter what car I drove until I got the sentry pass. We scheduled a trip to visit farms in the San Diego area and get pain pills from Vince’s/Oscar doctor relative in Mexico. Maybe it was my desire to get pain pills or sheer naivety, but I wasn't even a little bit concerned.
I drove down to Mexico and was supposed to meet Vince’s buddy Oscar at a local Rosarita Walmart. On the trip down, Oscar’s car caught on fire. (NOT A JOKE... I have an actual video... It was turned over at discovery in trial). So, he was late in meeting up with me. The trip to see the farms was put on hold as he arrived close to midnight. He still managed to get pain pills at a local pharmacy, which was my priority. I paid for these pills and drove home. When I passed through the border Checkpoint, I DECLARED THE MEDICATION (Tramadol) to the border guard, and they waived me on without any problems.
Because the trip was pretty much a failure, we agreed we would reschedule, and I would return in a few days. I went back less than a week later, again driving Vince’s truck.
Oscar was late again, and this time I was less forgiving. I waited so long I ended up checking into a hotel per Oscar's suggestion (he paid for the hotel since he felt bad about how long it took). While at the hotel, Oscar asked to borrow the truck since his car had caught on fire the week before. He had arrived at the meeting spot by Uber. This seemed like a reasonable request, besides it wasn’t my car. He told me he would be gone a short time, but this short time turned into several hours. I worked at the hotel while waiting. When he returned, I was upset, realizing they are flakes, and this relationship is not worth the trouble. But, if I’m being honest, lots of people in Cannabis are huge flakes, and their bizarre schedules made it seem inconvenient but not strange at the time (Also I wanted the pain pills). Oscar gave me more pills and offered to meet me at a nearby farm. I declined as it was late (actually early morning), and I just wanted to get home.
I drove across the border, and when asked if I had anything to declare, I declared the pain pills again ....Tramadol. While speaking with a junior border officer, a senior border officer came up from behind the truck (with a dog) and interrupted the conversation. At this point, I was tired, startled, and confused as to whom I was supposed to be speaking to. I had taken pain medication an hour prior, so I was concerned they would think I was high on pain pills (a potential DUI offense). With that in mind, I told the border agent the pills were for my mother. I lied... I ABSOLUTELY LIED... they were for me. Although a lie, I did declare them. Hundreds of thousands of people each year drive across the border to get medication. Although it is a crime to lie to a border agent, I did not know that at the time. I certainly did not know it was a felony.
If you drive across the border and say you went fishing but really went to a bar, you have potentially committed a felony, by the way (ask an agent next time you drive through if it’s against the law). Bet you didn't know that. It’s not something people get charged with, but it’s a felony – Bet you also didn't know it is punishable by up to five years in Jail. Its absurd.
I was holding up the line at border entrance, so an additional agent came up and asked me to drive the car through a secondary inspection (a huge x-ray machine). Not at all worried, I agreed to drive it through.
Afterwards, I was asked to go inside the station. I was handcuffed and held in a waiting room for the rest of the night. The next day, two agents pulled me in for questioning. I asked what I’m being charged with... they refused to answer me... simply telling me that I already know. I kept pressing until I’m finally told there was meth in the car hidden inside the floorboards. A funny side note - for as savvy as I think I was with the law; I really don’t know shit. But I did know I wasn’t going to say another word (I asked for an attorney).
It is hard not to bang on law enforcement…they are a rare breed. We all have had isolated experiences but dealing with them for a prolonged period is mystifying. Let me say this: if you are ever arrested, don’t say a WORD (I know most of you have heard some version of that on TV, but even the good cops play games...Don’t trust them at all.... about anything). There are absolutely good people in law enforcement, but unless you know them personally, it's to big a risk to trust them. What I have learned (SEEN WITH MY OWN EYES) over the past 3 years is far scarier than anything you can ever imagine (just ask for your attorney and keep your mouth shut).
While I had been waiting at the hotel, I assume (as I did not know), the car was altered, and the drugs were placed in the car. The car could have been altered earlier; I do not know. Clearly, Oscar and undoubtedly others put the meth in the car. I don’t know if my friend Vince was involved (I assume he was). I don’t know what major drug dealers look like, but these guys looked like farmers to me. To this day, I have no idea what happened. When I told my story in prison, people involved in that drug trade told me they did this to people in all different ways. They assumed that a “white boy/gringo” wouldn’t get messed with (I don’t mean that in any racial way AT ALL) ... I was obviously used as a mule... which is common at the border... and I am the last person who would knowingly be a mule.
So some of my friends have fairly commented "How could you not know?' Fair question....but if you know me, and how smart I think I am, do you think I like admitting I could be this big an idiot? If I did something like this, I would take credit for it. My friends know I’m not above doing crazy stuff (I can think of 10 friends rt. now that have been with me personally watching me showcase epic stupidity)…. but if I did, I would own it.
Also what did I get out of this? The only thing I got out of this was some pain pills THAT I PAID FOR (easily proved). Mules that do so willingly are paid money to drive drugs across. The only transactions that were established were ones I PAID HIM FOR COMMISSIONS on cannabis sales.
I spent 5 days in a federal health facility (that stay is a separate and horrid story) and another 6 days in the Metropolitan Federal Corrections Center in San Diego. It was awful, terrifying, and miserable. I was bailed out by my father on February12th and released on the 13th. I was detoxing so hard at this point; I barely remember any of it.
The amount of meth hidden in the car was substantial. The sentence I faced was based on the amount of meth in the car. The guidelines are 15-20 years.... 15 - 20 YEARS.... ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? Again, I didn’t even know what meth looked like.
My attorneys went to work, and the time from arrest to trial was almost 2 years – another story in itself. I initially assumed the delay was due to Covid, but now, with a better understanding of the process, it seems a long time between charge and disposition is common.
The prosecution originally offered me a plea deal, wanting me to acknowledge guilt for knowingly transporting the meth. In retrospect, I wish I had considered it. The plea deal might (likely) have ended with just probation, no prison time. I didn't even engage in discussions; I was committed to going to trial, even though I knew if I lost, I faced a long term in prison. Who, in their right mind, would think I was a drug mule?
While awaiting trial, I was on pre-trial release, living with my parents, subject to home inspections, attending psychological counseling, and regular drug testing. Federal prosecutors boast a 96% conviction rate – 96 PERCENT. That alone explains why most defendant’s plea out. I was convinced I'd be one of the 4%. Despite some trouble, my life on paper looked pretty sweet. They'll see this, and they'll eventually figure out what kind of person I am.
One of the many mistakes I made was not considering the plea deal. They loved my upbringing and the life I made for myself. Blaire Perez, an Assistant US attorney (a boss), took the case herself – rare; they usually hand it off to a junior prosecutor. These stories make headlines. They loved that I was on the Board of Directors of UCSB (which I resigned from), college-educated, from a good family. Now, it's a compelling story. You don't pay attention to this stuff unless your involved but federal cases/convictions are big news (they almost always run TV/news articles on these cases). Taking this to trial was a time for the prosecution to shine. I didn’t know any of this…. I thought the opposite. They will investigate the case and believe I did not know about the drugs.
Do you know what it costs to defend a situation like this? Without significant resources, affording it seems impossible. It costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. If you win you just keep your freedom (and your out your life savings). To give you perspective...we paid 25k on a new attorney, making ONE appearance for sentencing (just to wrap up my case). I'm not criticizing the fee; he claimed he was giving us a deal, which it probably was. That's the cost of fighting. The fact the trial and charge were 600 miles from where I lived also added to the costs of transportation, housing and other expenses. Being subject to a criminal prosecution is also not a good line for your resume and job prospects.
The US Gov is the ULTIMATE GANGSTER, outspending you, with unlimited resources – choosing to use them or not. They even had time and resources to track down friends interesting to them, using lies to scare potential witnesses. It worked, freaking out most of my friends (some of my friends considered hiring attorneys). They called a buddy of mine from San Diego as a witness because I listed him on a standard form to pick up items. If I hadn’t have gone through this experience, I would not believe it. What the federal Gov can and will do to secure a conviction is terrifying.
Would it surprise you that one of the prosecutor's go-to moves is to charge your innocent spouse/family member or even your KIDS to force you to take a plea? It's called "coercive plea bargaining," used more than you can imagine. Virtually anyone can be coerced into confessing their guilt under enough pressure – even the innocent. If the prosecution threatened to charge your family, just to mess with you.... your telling me you wouldn't consider taking a plea to spare them?
Plea bargaining, as practiced today, has turned our criminal legal system into a cheap backroom shakedown. Very few crimes are solved because of direct evidence. Deciding your freedom has become a game, where justice, innocence/guilt, and your freedom play an insignificant role.
Still, we were confident there was no way I'd be seen as a meth dealer. We also were confident I'd win at trial. Despite numerous character references and an all-star team willing to speak on my behalf, the prosecutor WITHOUT ANY CLEAR EVIDENCE was CERTAIN I was a meth KINGPIN. It's unbelievable. Not a meth dealer...A METH KINGPIN. A meth kingpin would have a network, connections – besides evidence of my work in cannabis, there wasn't a shred of any link to that world. If I was a meth dealer, I had managed to fool everyone.
NOW REMEMBER I'm not saying I didn't party at all (do drugs....cocaine, ecstasy....I absolutely did). BUT if I was involved in buying, transporting, selling meth there would be some history, some curious transaction.....some link? There was absolutely nothing.
The prosecutor didn’t care who I was, what had happened – no effort was made to hear my side of the story. It was mind-boggling how little she knew or if she even cared about anything other than winning the case.
What I know now is their job is to win, not find justice. I could have literally had someone testify that they were to blame (take full responsibility), and she wouldn't have accepted it. Their job is to win at all costs; justice is not part of the equation.
Among the reasons I'm angered is the prosecution did not competently investigate the case. You may think "oh CMON," I am sure they did. But everything I'm stating happened. Matter of fact I bet the prosecution, if asked, wouldn't disagree with any of this (they admitted as much when my fathers went to pick up my property). They don't hide their tactics ...they don't care & they know there is nothing anyone can do about it.
The owner of the vehicle, one of two parties, arranging for me to drive it, was never properly investigated. The government made ONE phone call to find the REGISTERED OWNER – it was pathetic. As they had seized my phone, we did not have the contact information on Vince until shortly before the trial and then our investigators located him on their first attempt (first call). In movies/TV, opposing attorneys interact commonly, but that's not how it works in the feds – mostly by email/phone. It was next to impossible to communicate with the federal prosecutor's office.
Vince and Oscar both reside and operate in the United States, working at cannabis farms in San Diego. Minimal questioning and investigating would have led to pertinent information. It would have taken such little effort to check on my version of events. Yet, the extent of the prosecution’s effort was one phone call.
One of my many faults is naivety. I trust people too easily. I trust others until a reason arises showing the trust is misplaced. Costly in this instance.
If I was a meth dealer what was my goal? Why would I have been the one to drive it across? Wouldn't a kingpin have other people do that for him? If I was a meth mule/kingpin wouldn't I have figured out a way to transport these drugs any other way then the stupidest fucking way in the history of mankind? Wouldn't I have made sure there wasn't any reason to stop me (meaning I wouldn't have had tramadol - I certainly wouldn't have declared it). Also would I have driven someone else's car knowing that not being the registered owner could be a red flag. If in fact I was a meth kingpin/dealer/whatever.... I picked the single dumbest way to transport drugs ever. If I knew, minimal/simple changes would/could have been made to help avoid detection. First and foremost I would have waited tell normal morning hours and driven through when the border is packed. I wouldn't have driven a beat down truck, dressed the way I dressed. None of it made sense.
We attempted to involve the prosecution, but they made no effort. Our investigator went to the house of the registered car owner/suspect (Vince), set up a meeting to give him a subpoena, but at the last minute, he refused to talk (he figured out he was going to be served). Despite knowing his location, we couldn't get law enforcement to act. They would not make any effort to investigate my version of events.
Imagine knowing you're innocent, cornering someone with answers (we literally located him, & had him inside his house hiding), yet law enforcement won't lift a finger. Instead, they warned us that if we were aggressive in our tactics there would be consequences for us. Setting this up took substantial time and resources, well-documented – the feds would likely not argue about anything I just stated.
I went to trial and lost. You need to understand the power a federal prosecutor has. Blaire Perez ignored limits on motions, lied, argued as if she could do anything – a sight to see.
What do I mean by the prosecution ignored limits on motions?
During the lengthy pretrial motions and stipulations phase, the judge ruled heavily in our favor. For example, border agents claimed I was barely lucid, combative, and anxious – a lie. I was watching "Rick and Morty" on my IPAD when I was waiting to cross the border. The video of my border crossing went MISSING (then FOUND but ACCIDENTALLY ERASED OVER) – what a spectacular coincidence.
As the video wasn't available, both parties agreed discussing the border exchange was off limits. This was a win for them since most of their statements were lies. A motion was filed stating both parties agreed not to discuss that part of the border crossing due to the missing footage.
The prosecution ignored these rules, making us lose focus. They kept violating the pretrial rules (in my opinion), and my confidence spiraled down. The prosecution put on a show.
Behind the scenes, my attorneys and I disagreed over strategy. They felt some cannabis industry witnesses couldn't handle the prosecution's questions. TV/Movies give a false sense of fairness; facing a prosecutor without legal knowledge is like navigating in another county without speaking the language. Prosecutors, armed with legal expertise, can make it challenging for even the average person to counter effectively. My attorneys thought my witnesses would hurt the case, and I went with their game plan.
With regard to friends, the Feds either scared them or gave them the false impression they were calling to help find out the truth (I had friends call me super excited telling me they thought the investigators were going to look into my version of events...."Scotty I think I connected with Agent X and he is going to help."). That's not what happens. They don't investigate objectively. They investigate the trial theory (find evidence to support a conviction of me).
My friends that were aware of my situation stood by me. They could have testified on my behalf. One thing was certain – I was not a meth dealer. In my opinion we made a massive mistake not calling some Friends to the stand. They could have testified against this ludicrous theory.
However, the only witnesses we called were my dad, our investigator, and myself. Ultimately, I deferred to my attorneys wisdom. In hindsight, I wish I hadn't on some of our strategies. In a trial, one should put on a show – juries are human; you need to make it personal.
We were soundly beaten without any direct evidence of my knowledge about the existence of the meth.
The prosecution's strategy focused on displaying the drugs found in the car, acting as if this seizure would single-handedly stop meth. They presented wild theories about my cannabis connections' involvement. Their theory was circumstantial but simple.
- Scott worked in the cannabis industry (yes, I did)
- I had and used pain pills (yes)
- I had debt (absolutely, who doesn't)
- I drove the car (yes)
- They're were hidden drugs (true)
• they were hidden in a complicated manner (most of my friends now I can’t even change a tire)
** somehow without any proof, his orchestrated moving large quantities of meth and for some reason decided to be the one to drive it that particular day. WHAT????
My cell phone & tablet were in government possession for over 2 years. Despite advanced technology, they couldn't fully access every bit of them, so they made wild accusations based on a couple pictures they found of cannabis and money I collected, but zero information on a meth operation. THEY FOUND ZERO evidence in my electronic devices that supported any connection to meth.
Challenges with COVID also made jury selection difficult, fielding a partial jury of 12 with no alternates. In addition the judge dismissed one juror. Potential jurors questioning the relative value of circumstantial evidence were dismissed by the prosecution’s peremptory challenges. False statements by the prosecutor were significant; she kept making them despite admonishments from the judge.
After the verdict, my attorneys sought to set aside judgment due to clear misrepresentations by the prosecution. The prosecutor had argued that no one would be stupid enough to transport drugs unknowingly; So essentially she was saying that there aren't really mules. That ALL people who traffic this much product know about it. A statement nobody can make because nobody could truly know if that is true. ALSO IT IS A FACT THAT THERE ARE MULES (people who know and who don't know they are trafficking)
So here's the irony not only was she stating something that's impossible to claim.....but her office just weeks before delt with a mule situation (where the accused had more product then me) & found them to be an unknowing mule (innocent). LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN…her office had worked on a case where exactly what she said couldn't have happened did. Whether she forgot, knew, or just didn't care it was beyond clear she was making definitive statements to the jury that were false (and these statements are powerful)
The Judge commented “I do think this is a serious issue that the Court is going to have to take into consideration on whether a new trial should be granted” and “encourage[d] [the defense] to have a conversation with the government about whether or not they would agree to a new trial in light of this issue.” The defense later consulted with the government and the government maintained that it has not committed misconduct and does not agree to a new trial.
My defense counsel submitted a motion for dismissal or for a new trial to the prosecutions reviews before filing it with the court. After reviewing the motion for a new trial, the prosecution agreed to a plea bargain where I would plead guilty to lying to a federal officer. As I had already admitted such when I testified at trial.... I accepted, however, now that I had taken it to trial, there was a good chance I was going to serve time (this is called a trial penalty).
Why did the prosecution agree to a plea deal after just winning a jury verdict? Our guess was there is no bigger story then a judge declaring a mistrial based on a prosecutorial misconduct. She would have had to explain herself. They wanted this to go away.
The government's lack of interest in stopping meth traffic is appalling. I did not own the transport method, and the modification was done by someone with those skills. The prosecution knew the vehicle and drugs were not provided by me. To not conduct a proper investigation is a defendants (or anyone's) worst nightmare
But the ultimate irony here is I went to jail for lying to a federal officer, & the lead prosecutor clearly lied to a court, to a jury, and to a judge & nothing happened to her.
I hired a new attorney for the sentencing, a little too late (it was pointless). This attorney came highly recommended and I was hoping for a miracle.
After over 2 1/2 years of battling, I was exhausted, the judge gave me a 24-month sentence. My strategy for sentencing was nonexistent. My new attorney knew little about this part. Attorneys may know the law but not much about incarceration, and that's a travesty.
For the money spent on legal fees, hiring a consultant for guidance through the whole process might be more beneficial. Most Attorneys focus only on the law part, the incarceration part is not sexy, however, sadly, it is very important.
When it came time to speak to my Judge during sentencing I said nothing. THIS WAS ONE OF MY BIGGEST MISTAKES. I had kicked ass during pretrial and had a great story to tell...but sadly my new attorney told me day of...something to the effect "if you want to say something to the judge prior to being sentenced you can." What???? that's terrible prep. Knowing what I know now that was a massive mistake. Sentences can be dramatically altered based on this statement. Its huge.
The judge, at sentencing, stated she didn't think I knew about the drugs, but was disappointed in the life I was leading. I should have never been in that situation, and my addiction affected my judgment. As hard as it is to admit, she was right.
My opinion on the legal system could not be worse. The saying every American knows and some believe “INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY" is a farce. Going against a head federal prosecutor, playing dirty, was a game I was going to lose.
BUT....Let's say I won my case. Do you think it would been over? Absolutely not. Most likely they would have came after me for my cannabis connections. Weed is legal in CA but not federally. They don't lose, they would have kept coming. I have friends who have gone multiple rounds (winning multiple times) only to realize this won't end until they get you on something.
So despite my feeling about the system & process. It's still my actions that caused all this.
I was now off to Leavenworth Kansas (the oldest prison in America) and enrolled in the Residential Drug Alcohol Program (RDAP), I acknowledge my role in the situation and accept responsibility. I fucked up so big. I've strained relationships and spent my life savings. I assume because of the prosecutor’s mistakes the US attorney’s office did not issue a press release. HAVING NO PRESS ON A FEDERAL CRIME IS INCREDIBLY RARE. I thus became one of the very few who are not subject to a news release and additional humiliation. I can’t imagine being more devastated. Without the news releases most of my friends and family didn’t know about my situation. Those that knew got a promise that I would be 100% transparent about my situation.
I wrote newsletters during my time in prison covering both the good and bad, being brutally honest and even embarrassing at times. Honesty became the only way I could rebuild trust with my family and friends (and trust myself again). I didn’t deserve the wonderful friends & family I had/have. Though devastated, I decided to not let this experience beat me. In prison, I've realized the best and worst of myself and hope for another chance. I also decided that although many did not know of my situation, I would make every effort to be up front about it. Thus this website and my story. I'm not going to hide from this part of my life.
Most of my friends have been amazing & supportive....but there are those I lost (which I understand). I hadn't been myself in years (decades) so I probably lost them back then. I have a long list of people I have some things to say to. But however this shakes out I'm fine with whatever people decide.
I wrote a ton in prison. I also identified the areas I was failing at. I then made every effort to improve on those areas. Before I left I wrote my own quote to describe what I felt when setting out to rebuild my life. I will end my story with that quote.
Over the years the hardest thing I have heard from friends is I miss the "Old Carper." Since I have been back and reconnected it has been wonderful to hear those same friends tell me I seem better. The true test of change is when you can show it over a sustained period of time. Although I have made huge strides that I am incredibly proud of... I also know I have along way to go before I can get back to being called "Carper," in the way that my friends used to mean (in the way that I loved and cherished). That will take some time.
"Rebuilding your life is not about fixing whats broken; its about creating something better from the pieces."
I made this mess and I will fix it.