The SCOTT CARPER Arrest Story

If you decide to read this (and it’s a lot), I ask that you finish it.  I ask because if you're going to judge me, do it right, have all the facts.   My experience may surprise you, or it might not. My experience with the legal system and the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) should at least educate you.  Most of us don’t care or know much about the justice system until it somehow affects our lives.

This story is from my perspective, and some of it is my opinion, but everywhere I can give the objective truth (verifiable in ways other than just me saying so), I do.

Am I embarrassed about putting this picture up and bearing my soul? YES…look at me. I look terrible. The circumstances of my arrest are awful and embarrassing. However, I have decided to own my behavior, not pretend it didn’t happen. No sense in diffusing a bomb after the explosion.

I will tell you our justice system did not work well in my case. But despite the broken system, my behavior alone created my predicament. 

What did I do? I purchased painkillers in Mexico and then attempted to bring them back into the United States. That was illegal. I was driving a Bronco truck I did not own. That was ridiculously stupid. I lied to the border agent about who the painkillers were for. That was illegal. I acknowledge the illegal acts. The pickup contained a large quantity of methamphetamine concealed (not sure where because someone else concealed them). This was illegal. However, while I admit I was the driver of the vehicle, I had no idea there were illegal drugs hidden in the pickup.

Two thoughts. First, how could I have been so stupid as to drive someone else's car across the border? Second, I do not blame law enforcement for arresting me.

My complaints center on the complete disregard for conducting a basic investigation, the absence of morality or honor in law enforcement, the inhumane treatment of individuals, and the stark reality of how broken our legal system truly is.

My story won't attempt to explain or excuse my mistakes, but it will present my perspective on how the justice system, instead of pursuing the drugs and the money, went after the easy target—the foolish driver. I know no one likes to hear complaints, but I ask for your understanding as I do have a few to share.

Why was I in Mexico driving someone else’s vehicle? The answer is both complicated and simple—though I wish it were just the latter.

Some background is necessary;  parts of this story are pretty outrageous.  I was a mess at this time in my life, and I had no business being in Mexico getting painkillers.

In high school, I suffered a back injury in a car accident, setting the stage for constant, everyday pain, the kind of pain that becomes part of life. After college, a rare pelvic floor injury added to my struggles, leading to years of substantial pain. 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. Opioids to solve pain issues were represented as being nonaddictive, although we now know that was untrue. I enjoyed the feeling that prescription painkillers provided, and I became addicted.

Although I eventually found therapists who helped, I didn't stop taking painkillers. Suboxone, a useful tool against addiction, had not been discovered yet (See a separate post on addiction). I believe 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. 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 weight, in terrible physical shape, spending a fortune on my habit, and spending time with people who served my addiction. 

While I loved to party and had indulged in various substances, I had drawn a line at meth (or drugs with needles)...as if that matters. Ironically, my perception of being addicted to a more acceptable drug was shattered when I went to prison, as addicts don't get to pick one drug over another.

No, let me be clear I am not in any position to judge when it comes to drugs. I loved partying (and since I hate when people sugarcoat this topic)....let me be even more clear...I did my share of drugs.  I used cocaine, ecstasy, weed & 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 (through my music and movie contacts). The cannabis industry was a total disaster with disorganization, chaos, and a lack of motivated talent. Very intelligent people working in the sector lack success because they can't find reliable people, workers, and partners. 

Naively, I thought I could figure it out and carve a niche.  Also, some early successes gave me unrealistic expectations.  

About a year before my arrest, I worked with a worker/grower named Vince, who had amazing connections to high-quality cannabis.  I wanted access to his connections since he was relatively low on the totem pole, and I wanted to work with the decision-makers. Eventually, I met the head of their Southern California farms, which led to discussions about a larger partnership selling their high-grade cannabis. Now, to give perspective, these farms sold products at cannabis shows (they had T-shirts and other products); they weren’t some tiny operation.  

I visited their various farms in Encinitas, Lake Elsinore, Temecula, Vista, San Diego, etc.. Some farms are near the Mexico Otay Mesa (Tijuana) border.

My primary interest was weed, but I learned they had painkiller connections. I was spending a fortune on pills, and finding a reliable supply of safe pills was time-consuming.  Through their connections, I was told I could pay less and buy a sufficient quantity of pills to meet my personal needs. Vince’s boss indicated he had a doctor/family member in Mexico who could easily supply various painkillers.

So a brilliant plan came together. 

I would travel to Mexico, where I would pick up Vince's boss, Oscar, and he would get me my pain medications, and then together, we would cross the border and visit their Cannabis farms in California near the Mexican border.

YES, YOU ARE CORRECT. Going to Mexico to buy painkillers, what could possibly go wrong?

It gets worse. For cannabis trips, I usually drove my worn-down, low-to-the-ground 2007 Lexus sedan that I absolutely destroyed making these trips.

Taking this into account, I was offered Vince’s truck (now let me explain how Vince got this truck, it helps explain my thought processes and why I might use it).  Vince purchased this truck using commissions he received WORKING FOR ME - I basically bought that truck.  So using it did not seem outlandish to me at the time.  

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 boss Oscar at a local Rosarita Walmart. While Oscar was driving to meet me, his car caught fire. It seems unlikely, but it wasn't; there was a video of it (the prosecution has it)

So, he was late. The trip to see the farms was put on hold as he arrived close to midnight. He still managed to get a few 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 PAIN MEDICATION (Tramadol) to the border guard, and they waved me on without any problems. At that time, I did not know it was illegal, and the guard did nothing but waive me through.

Once was dumb so lets get dumber

As the trip was a failure, we agreed to reschedule and that I would return in a few days. Oscar was late again, and this time, I was less forgiving. I waited for over 4-5 hours.  It was late, 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 - all verifiable facts). While at the hotel, Oscar asked to borrow Vince’s truck to get the pain pills since his car had caught on fire the week before. He had arrived at the meeting spot by Uber. I didn’t care, plus Vince was ok with it.  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 and eventually dozed off. When he returned, I was visibly upset; he clearly was a flake, and this relationship was not worth the trouble. 

Lots of people in Cannabis are huge flakes, and bizarre schedules are common.  I basically added him to the long list of people in cannabis I wouldn't work with again, but I still wanted the pain pills.  Oscar gave me more pills and offered to meet me at a nearby farm. I declined the farm meet 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 the initial border officer, a second border officer came up from behind the truck (with a dog) and interrupted the conversation. At this point, I was tired and just wanted to go home.  I was confused about whom I was supposed to be speaking to as they were both talking.  

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 ABSOLUTELY LIED... they were for me. Although a lie, I did declare them (which is not to jump ahead, but if I was knowingly importing illegal drugs, why would I declare pain pills? I would have hidden the pain medication with the drugs or not had them at all. 

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 then. 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.  It’s not something people get charged with, but it’s a felony – I bet you also didn't know that and that it is punishable by up to five years in prison. Its absurd. I was holding up the line at the border entrance, so a third 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 taken inside the station, handcuffed and held in a waiting room for the rest of the night. The next day, two agents began questioning me. I asked why I was being detained ... they refused to answer me... simply telling me that I already knew. I kept pressing until I was finally told there was meth in the car hidden inside the floorboards. I immediately knew this was a bad situation and I demanded an attorney.

It is hard not to bang on law enforcement, they are a rare breed. Among the interesting things I saw while I was in cuffs was a police officer walking into a lockup and yelling at his daughter (who was being arrested),

“Don’t say a word to anyone; you can’t trust these guys.”  

This was a cop telling his daughter not to trust his fellow officers. Even police officers know to tell loved ones to keep quiet (there is no trust there).  They know the game.  I am told there are good people in law enforcement, and I have met a few, but if you think you can trust them, I wish you the best of luck (that's a risk I would never be willing to take).

What I have learned (SEEN WITH MY OWN EYES) over the past 4 years is far scarier than anything you can imagine

While waiting at the hotel, I assume (as I do 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. 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. 

Later in prison, people involved in the 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 used as a mule... which is common at the border... and I am the last person who would knowingly be a mule.

Friends have fairly commented, "How could you not know?" Fair question—do you think I like admitting I could be this big an idiot? If I knowingly did something like this, I would admit it. My friends know I’m not above doing crazy stuff (I can think of 10 friends right now who have been with me personally watching me showcase epic stupidity).

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. There was no money paid.

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 February 12th and released on the 13th. I was detoxing hard at this point; I barely remember any of it.

Let me digress again

My apartment was broken into while I was gone. Likely someone taking advantage of the fact I was missing.  I had a safe stolen with thousands of dollars of other people's money and priceless sports memorabilia and assets, which were mine (easily 6 figures).  I was forced to borrow money to pay back the money that wasn’t mine (a huge cannabis sale paid in cash).  It was devastating. 

The thieves (who wore masks), still made numerous mistakes with concealing their identity.  The crime was caught on security tape, outside and in the elevator.  I asked Los Angeles police to investigate the crime. To come to the building  (or at least sign off on an insurance claim).  First, they claimed they came by multiple times, yet nobody was there (I was there).  Then they refused to come, citing COVID concerns, and claimed the building receptionists wouldn’t let them in (come on, when does staff say no to the police? Also, it was all on tape/nobody showed). Unbelievable.  I convinced a supervisor to make them come…..but it took so long (3 months) that the apartment company accidentally taped over the security tape. YEAH unbelievable. Multiple people had seen the video, so some identification was hopeful.  However, that would have required effort, so LAPD refused to investigate, citing COVID-19 (this was a fantastic excuse at that time).   The perpetrators could have been caught.  

What was in the truck that I drove across the border?  A substantial amount of meth.  You had to take the truck apart to see it; it was hidden very well. With this amount of Drugs found in the truck, the charge carried a sentence of 15-20 years....15 - 20 YEARS.... ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? I didn’t even know what meth looked like.  This was insane. 

I was charged with trafficking meth.

The time from arrest to trial was almost 2 years.

The prosecution initially offered me a plea deal, wanting me to acknowledge guilt for knowingly transporting the meth. Admitting something I did not do was not something I could live with. I was committed to going to trial, even though I knew if I lost, I would face a long term in prison. 

I thought, who, in their right mind, would think I was a knowing drug mule? I, of course, know what I did and didn't do, and I expected the prosecution to evaluate me and my circumstances and realize stupid, yes.... but meth dealer, no. Yeah right.

Sometimes we don’t realize how ridiculous something is until we have had time to analyze it. What do you do if the circumstances surrounding your crime are bizarre? When you start discussing even the simplest things, it can turn crazy very quickly.  It’s easy to second-guess things after the fact.  There is no doubt the circumstances surrounding the incident were bizarre.  Ultimately, however crazy my story was, it was still better than the government's version.

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 defendants 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. The prosecution loves a good takedown story.  They loved my upbringing and the life I made for myself (it would be a big story).  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 at UCSB (which I resigned from), college-educated, from a good family. It’s a compelling story.

Do you know what it costs to defend a situation like this? It costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. If you win, you will keep your freedom (and you'll be out of your life savings). I won’t go into the disaster this caused for me financially, but to give you some perspective...we paid 25k on a new attorney, making ONE appearance for sentencing (ONE APPEARANCE - 15 minutes tops).

The fact the trial and all consultations and court appearances were 500+ 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 government is the ultimate GANGSTER, outspending you with unlimited resources—whether you choose to use them or not. They have zero accountability and no out-of-bounds areas. They play by a set of rules that make them the scariest adversaries you have ever seen.

They can play it any way they want. The little effort they put into investigating this situation was highlighted by harassing my friends to track down other friends of mine, using lies to scare them (my potential witnesses). It worked, freaking out most of my friends (some of my friends considered hiring attorneys). They subpoenaed a buddy of mine from San Diego as a witness simply because I listed him on a standard form to pick up items they had taken from me at the border. They thought he was a secret witness. If I hadn’t have gone through this experience, I would not have believed 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, and 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 the entire world.

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 cared about anything other than winning the case.

What I know now is their job is to win, that’s it. 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 (I would argue they didn’t even investigate). You may think "oh CMON," I am sure they did. But everything I'm stating happened.

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.  I had plenty of friends who knew where they were.  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 call!!!! 

If I was a meth dealer why would I have been the one to drive the drugs 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 is a red flag. If 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 until 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 leave the house (he figured out he was going to be served). Despite knowing his location, we couldn't get law enforcement to act. 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, misrepresented facts, argued as if she could do anything – a sight to see.

What do I mean by the prosecution ignored limits on motions?

During 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 that discussing the border exchange was off limits. This was a win for them since most of their statements were lies (lies the video would have shown). Thus discussing the border exchange was off-limits.

The prosecution ignored the agreement. 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. My attorneys thought my witnesses would hurt the case, and I went with their game plan.

Regarding 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 happened. They didn't investigate objectively. They investigated their trial theory (finding evidence to support a conviction).

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. As the prosecution listed my father as a witness he could not attend the trial which lost him as an advisor for in-trial strategy. Ultimately, I deferred to my attorneys' wisdom. In hindsight, I wish I hadn't. 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 know I can’t even change a tire) ** somehow without any proof, I 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 and tablet were in government possession for over 2 years. Despite advanced technology, they couldn't fully access them, so they made wild accusations based on a couple pictures they found of cannabis and money (a picture pulled from an IG account) I collected, THEY FOUND ZERO evidence in my electronic devices supporting any connection to meth.

Challenges with COVID also made jury selection difficult, fielding a 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 made by the prosecution. The prosecutor had argued that no one would be stupid enough to transport this quantity of drugs unknowingly; So essentially she was saying that there aren't  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 dealt with a mule situation (where the accused had more product than me) and 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 happen. 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 had not committed misconduct and did not agree to a new trial.

 

My defense counsel submitted a brilliant motion for dismissal or a new trial. After submission to the prosecutor but before filing it with the court 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 than a judge declaring a mistrial based on 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 defendant's (or anyone's) worst nightmare and a failure of law enforcement to genuinely stop drug trafficking.

But the ultimate irony here is I went to jail for lying to a federal officer, and the lead prosecutor clearly lied to a court, to a jury, and to a judge and 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 would be more beneficial. Most attorneys focus only on the law part of the process, 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 working 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 in the federal system can be dramatically altered based on this statement. Its huge.

 

The judge, at sentencing, stated she believed that I was ignorant of the transported drugs but I should have not been in that situation and she 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.

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 have been over? Absolutely not. Most likely they would have come 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 doesn't end until they get you on something.

So despite my feeling about the system and 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.Without the news release 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 and 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 upfront 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.

"Rebuilding your life is not about fixing what's broken; it's about creating something better from the pieces."

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 a long 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.

I am uncertain about what I can say to convince anyone of my version of events. I think people make up their minds 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 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. It's not easy to admit that, and although prison was the worst experience of my life, it also may have saved it.

That is my arrest story if you got this far you are done.

However, I have a few thoughts about meth and drugs. Things I know now that I did not know when arrested.

In prison 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 the simple goal of getting back to being the person I wanted to be.  Prison was the first time I was ever around meth as it by far the most popular drug in prison.  It’s cheap and a large number of inmates use it.  

One of the scariest things is seeing how many people try meth for the first time in prison (Doctors, lawyers, white collar inmates) because of boredom and its availability.  Boredom is the biggest challenge in prison.  The addiction grip it has on people is terrifying.  I was enrolled in a program called MAT at Leavenworth (medically assisted treatment).  It’s basically people with long term pain issues.  It requires a lot of interaction with staff.   Out of all the people enrolled in the MAT program at Leavenworth I was the only inmate who didn’t get kicked out for using meth.  So this entire program is based on managing pain. The program has strict mandates regarding potentially dangerous substances because it’s illegal of course but also because you can die (the drug interactions are potentially life threatening). I was the only person who wasn’t taking meth (EVERYONE in this program except me got caught using meth).  Not to get sidetracked but this program required regular interaction with staff, psychologists, doctors….and all these inmates had the staff convinced they weren’t using.  They all were eventually caught and severely punished.  But can you imagine the embarrassment the staff felt being absolutely fooled by countless inmates.  I tell this story to illustrate the depth people will go to feed their addiction and how many people it affects.