A Life Wasted

New Beginnings

It was November 1975 when I was released from jail in Texas. A great deal would happen that month. The Coast Guard didn't know what to do with me when I showed up unannounced. Normally I would have been thrown in a high security military prison since I now had two military escapes on my record, but they didn't because I voluntarily turned myself in. Because I'd jumped bond on the drug charges in Cambridge, Maryland the Coast Guard told me I should go there. The officer who said this explained their logic: since multiple civilian authorities wanted to lock me up there was no reason for the military to waste their resources on me. I didn't have a car so the duty driver gave me a ride to jail.

The Sherriff in Cambridge Maryland had a similar mindset as the military: since I was wanted by so many jurisdictions he'd let someone else take the risk of having me tear up their jail to get out when I was ready to leave. He gave me a signature bond and let me go. I had to hitch a ride back to the base.

The next day the duty driver gave me a ride to the next closest set of charges. I neglected to mention earlier that after the accident on the stolen Honda I broke into the garage where it was stored and stole it again, only this time it was a pile of scrap metal, and dumped it in the Bay. I did it to get rid of the evidence the State Police had on me. For this I had burglary charges in Upper Marlboro, Maryland. Again, they were impressed with my voluntary presences and I was given an immediate no-cash signature bond. This time it was late so I rode the bus, then a cab to the base.

The CO called me a bad penny he couldn't get rid of. He called the place that had charges on me in Kentucky and they figured out I wasn't their guy so they removed the warrant. Next he called Florida and they said it was a mistake, those charges had been dropped as part of the change in juvenile age but they had neglected to remove the charges, which they did at that time. All that remained was Lynchburg, Virginia, burglary charges for the Honda dealer. When called they said they most definitely wanted me. The CO doubted I'd walk away from that one. He hoped I wouldn't because it was the last charge.

By this time I had received back pay from before I went AWOL, so I had some cash. I bought a Greyhound ticket to Lynchburg fully expecting to spend time in their jail. I spent two hours in the jail's booking cell before they let me go on bond. All I had to do was sign a pledge that I would show up for court when told to, and more importantly, that I wouldn't leave the State of Virginia until the proceedings had ended. I called the base and explained my dilemma. They told me call back in an hour. When I did I was told I had until noon the next day to report to Coast Guard division headquarters in Portsmouth, Virginia. The irony of this is that while I had been running around the country my step-dad had been promoted and transferred to Virginia. My family now lived in Chesapeake, Virginia, ten miles from Coast Guard division headquarters in Portsmouth.
When I reported for duty bright and early the next morning it was clear I was not wanted there. It began with a Lt. Commander calling me a convicted criminal, to which I pointed out that all I had been convicted of was a traffic offense. After being subjected to language only a career sailor could manage, I was ordered to report to a small Coast Guard Base in Chesapeake. A place so close to my parent's new home I could walk it in 90 minutes. The CO of that base restricted me to base while waiting for my paper work to arrive. When the paperwork arrived he explained that the Coast Guard was going to discharge me. The paperwork would take several weeks to go through, but he didn't want me on his base that long. So he restricted me again, but this time he restricted me off the base. When I asked him where I should go he said he didn't care as long as it wasn't on his base. All he wanted from me was an address where he could send my pay check and discharge papers when they came through. It had to be the only time in military history where a serving member of the military was restricted off the base and told to go away.

I was driven to the main gate and left there. I walked three miles to the nearest pay phone. (A pay phone is how phone calls were made back in the olden days. Google it.) I called mom and explained. She gave me the new address and said come home. After not being welcome at three different jails and as many Coast Guard stations, it felt good to be invited home. I hadn't explained that I was on foot, but no matter, it wasn't far so I walked home. Mom and Ken were surprisingly gracious after all I had done and all the worry I had put them through. I promised I would find my own place as soon as I could but they said to take my time. This was late November or early December 1975. Four months into being nineteen.

A few weeks into December mom asked me to pick up my baby brother from church choir practice. They attended a small Lutheran church just up the road so it was a small thing that ended up having a major impact on my life. I got there a little early so sat in the pews while they finished up. The girl supervising the kids got my attention right away. She was pretty, but she was also radiant in a way I don't think I've ever seen in a girl. I say girl, but she was twenty-four years old, five years older than me, and very much a woman. Sherry was from Washington State, a graduate of Oral Roberts University and to my surprise she was interested in me. As I've mentioned before, I'm not much of a ladies man, well, not at all. I like them, but have always been a little frightened by those mysterious creatures. But with Sherry I had no doubt she was interested in me because she asked me out. She worked at a Portsmouth TV station and wanted me to be her date for their Christmas party a few days away. 

I told mom and Ken about the date and they immediately approved. They liked Sherry so were pleased I had hit it off with such a wholesome girl. Ken pulled me aside to give me a heads up about older women. He didn't use the term "Cougar", but that was the foundation of the talk. After his warning I was both terrified and excited about the upcoming date. Assuming the TV station employees would be a wild I went into Portsmouth and bought a half ounce of pot for the occasion. I figured they'd have plenty of booze and drugs but I didn't want to embarrass myself by coming empty handed. 

The night of my first real date, Sherry picked me up at my parents house because I didn't have a car. She even came in and spoke to everyone. They all knew her better than I did, but it was still awkward. Before we left Ken whispered to me asking if Sherry knew my history. She didn't. Don't tell her until the second date, he advised. 

The TV station was WYAH TV, which was displayed on their sigh, but it also said CBN. I didn't know what CBN stood for and I didn't care enough to ask. The party was in Studio A, the largest of their two studios. Sherry started by giving me a tour which included her office. Everyone knew her and obviously liked her. But it was me they were all interested in. Curious about. As pretty as she was, Sherry didn't date, but they from the way she hung on my arm it was clear we were on a date. The party itself was festive and funny. Nothing but homemade food and snacks, no booze and no drugs, but lots of fun. Some of the senior staff did stand-up comic routines that were all funny. Before the night was over I had laughed so hard my mouth hurt. The bag of pot stayed in my pocket. 

The next time we saw each other I still had the pot in my pocket, which turned out to be inappropriate since she took me to the Lutheran church. The church was vacant this night, but Sherry had keys and was allowed access. After she had played her guitar and sang a few songs, which she was good at, we sat on the side of the alter and talked. I followed my step-dad's advice and told Sherry my history as well as how gloomy my immediate future looked. She was amazed at my story. Genuinely amazed that after two escapes one bond jumping and technically two AWOL's, that I would be released from three different jails on my word to show up, and that the Coast Guard would be helpful to the point of allowing me go home with pay while awaiting my discharge. I hadn't really thought about it that way, but it was an amazing string of events. Sherry's acceptance of this inspired me to tell her the rest of it. I told her about Iceland and the Russians, about Florida and the law change that made me a juvenile, about my time in Texas and Mexico, the stolen pot, the stolen motorcycle, the big chase and about being released from the Texas courthouse by accident. 

"It wasn't an accident," Sherry said. She held my hand and look deep into my eyes and said, "God has protected you for a purpose. You can see it as clearly as I can." She was right, I could see it. There had been a supernatural hand protecting me. I cried as she lead me to Jesus. 

Less than a week later I had a job at WYAH TV, which was the flag ship station of the Christian Broadcasting Network. I hadn't realized it before, but at the Christmas party I had meet two of the most powerful men in Christian Broadcasting: Pat Robertson and Ben Kinchlow. I would later learn that CBN is a very difficult place to get a job. Christians from all over the world wanted to be a part of CBN's ministry so they had their choice from the best and brightest in every field. I didn't know how to do anything, so I should not have been hired. When I started working there Pat Robertson already knew who I was, but it was Ben Kinchlow who became my mentor. Him and John Gilman, another great guy. Both took me under their wings and taught me the ways of my new faith.

December 29, 1975 I received my discharge papers in the mail. An honorable discharge, something I did not deserve. With those papers I was a free man. Free except for the two places in Maryland and one in Virginia I was on bond from.