A Life Wasted

Running Again

The first thing I did after they dropped me off in Orlando was find a pay phone and use my precious coins to call Mary. She already knew of my adventure, though I'm not sure how she learned of it. She had repeatedly called the prison for an update. Several times they told her I was surrounded and it would be over soon. A few hours before I called they told Mary I was surrounded and there was no way I could escape them this time. The Captain told my wife something to indicate I'd not likely survive my capture. They were pretty upset with me by this point. Something I'd already figured out by they way they tried to shoot me in the back. When Mary answered the phone she expected to hear news of my death so she was crying hard. She was shocked to hear my voice. She asked if I was okay and I assured her I was. A little tattered, but I'd heal. She said she thought they were going to kill me and that she was surprised they let me call. I figured out that she assumed I'd been caught. This made me laugh. No I told her, they didn't catch me. Nor will they. I'm a long way from Georgia. They'd been so sure I was surrounded in the woods it took my wife several minutes to accept the change of circumstances. Once she calmed down I told her I'd come for her as soon as I could get things together. We didn't talk long. I didn't think they could set up a trace that fast (not in 1979 anyways) but didn't want to take the chance. Plus I needed those quarters and dimes.

I was close to the Lutheran church mom and Ken attended. I didn't know anyone in that area of town so I walked towards the church. I'd only met the pastor there a few times so barely knew him, but my mom always spoke highly of him. (I can't remember his name.) Mom used to say, "When I die I want to hold Pastor so-in-so's hand because I know he's going to heaven." Maybe that's why I was drawn to the church. I really don't know. It was past midnight when I got there, so I found a thick bush to hide behind, laid down and fell into a deep sleep. I woke in the morning to see the pastor getting out of his car. I thought I was hidden pretty well, but he saw me and asked if I was okay. When I came out of the bushes he recognized me and invited me into his office.

We had an interesting conversation. I told him the truth. I hadn't realized how traumatic the experience had been until I told the story. As I did I started shaking and crying. There were times during the escape where I had been scared to death, but had suppressed it until talking about it. I think the pastor was astounded by my tale, but managed to remain professional. Being a professional he advised me to turn myself in. Even offered to drive me back to the prison in Savannah. I was disincline to agree to that and said so. He asked if I wanted to talk to my mom, and I said no. All I wanted was to see a friendly face, someone who wasn't trying to kill me, so that's what I told him. He offered me money and a ride but I turned down both. Mom was right, he was a good man. I wasn't willing to risk getting him in trouble helping me so I limped away after we prayed together. I was glad I talked to him, but wasn't interested in going back to prison.

I had a friend in Orlando who owed me $150 from several years earlier so I looked him up to collect. He was shocked to see me, but did remember his debt. I'd helped him when he needed it so he returned the favor. He'd been a small time drug dealer then, but was a real "player" now. He'd moved from selling small bags of pot to fencing stolen cars. He was near my size so the first thing he did was give me a decent set of clothes, even a pair of sneakers that fit. Then he gave me what he owed me plus $500 on top. Knowing I'd need wheels he also gave me a car that had been stolen a few days earlier. With $650, a car, clothes and shoes that fit I was wealthy. I had enough to arrange a meeting with my wife, which was all I wanted. I wasn't all that excited about driving up I-95 through Savannah, but that was where I was headed. That wasn't the only way to get to Ohio, but it was the most direct. To be safe I decided to take my time. Give things in Savannah an extra day to die down. Because my car had been stolen form somewhere in Orlando I stayed with him until dark then drove east towards Daytona Beach, then took I-95 north. My plan was to get a room somewhere south of the Georgia line, then fill my tank and drive all the way to Atlanta without stopping. I never made it that far.