A Life Wasted

July & August 2001

After June 27th the authorities lost track of me until September. During this time the healing of my body had turned the corner for the better. I no longer believed I was going to lose a limb or die from blood poisoning, but I still had some pain. Not nearly as much pain as I had experienced in the previous months, but more of a numb pain. More irritating than anything else. But overall I felt a great deal better. During this time a few interesting things happened to me. I'm not sure about the order of the events, but that doesn't really matter as the stories are designed to add color.

Now that I was well financed, I added a few toys to my tool chest. Being a geek those toys were mostly electronics. I had used police scanners from the beginning, which was something the FBI knew. Something I knew they knew. For this reason, I figured the FBI would instruct the police to avoid the use of police radios when closing in on me. Since everyone in the free world now had a cell phone I knew this would be their form of communication. At the time it was illegal to sell scanners that picked up cell phone frequencies, but a few were still available, one of which I had. From using this special scanner, I realized that its effectiveness was limited as there were so many cell phones in use and I couldn't hear digital cell phones, which were becoming popular at the time.

For a solution I visited several Ham Radio stores. For those that don't know, Ham Radio is the term used to describe amateur short wave radio operators. My father-in-law was big into Ham Radio so I had a passing familiarity with it. I knew enough that before I went into a Ham Radio store I went on line and located a Ham operator from another state and memorized his name, home city and his licensed call sign. I don't recall the call sign I "borrowed" but as example my father-in-law's was "K8DOH", which is easy for me to remember because it was on everything he owned, including his Ohio license plate.

In the store when I asked for specific equipment the first thing the guy asked me is if I was an operator. I responded with my first name, call sign and home city. He accepted this as if it were a passport. What I needed was a scanner that could pick up everything around me. When I explained this he said, "You mean a portable digital frequency counter." I had no idea what a frequency counter was, portable, digital, or otherwise, but what I said was, "Exactly. You have one?"

He did. It was called the Scout, made by Opto Electronics, was the size of a pack of cigarettes and cost $375. That cool little device would pick up every signal within whatever range I set, it would beep or vibrate to alert me to a signal and it would store the signal's frequency in memory. The only thing it wouldn't do was allow me to hear what was being said on that frequency. For that I'd need another scanner, one that allowed input from the Scout. The store carried that too so I gladly shelled out the extra $320 for another scanner. This was a great rig. My only complaint was that the scanner's speaker was too small to hear well while driving down the road so I ran its output through my car's stereo system. Now I had a great scanner.

Not too long after buying this new system it saved me from arrest. I was driving south on Interstate 85 in north Georgia headed towards Atlanta. Ironically I was going to a Ham store in Atlanta to buy a better frequency counter/scanner combo. As I always did, I had the Scout/scanner on and running through my SUV's sound system. In doing this, there was a constant string of cell phone calls that I would pick up. If the call was being made by a cell phone I'd listen long enough to quickly figure out the call had nothing to do with me then hit a button on the scanner for it to keep scanning. This was a constant distraction, but it was far more interesting than listening to talk radio. I don't really care for music. I will confess that some of the calls were interesting and I would listen to them. I know this is wrong, but what can I say. I was lonely.

So on this particular call it began with a ringing phone, which meant someone near me was making the call out. I had the range set at a mile, so they were reasonably close to me. Because I would hit the scan button on most calls I'd already positioned my finger on the button when the phone was answered. "911, is this call an emergency." So this had my attention. Next I heard the voice of a young woman and she said something to the effect of, "We're on Interstate 85 and we just saw a guy who is wanted." The 911 operator asked the caller to explain. "We saw him on America's Most Wanted. I don't remember his name or why he was wanted, but I do remember his face, and that's him." I'm looking around now, but doing so cautiously. Next the young woman accurately described the SUV I was driving and the license number. The 911 operator didn't seem too interested until she ran the plates and learned that the license plate had been reported stolen.

The caller then gave detailed information about my location. When she told the 911 operator the number of the mile marker I had just passed I looked at a car that had just passed me and saw two female faces in the back-seat duck out of sight. "Oh my God, I think he just saw us! He is looking at us." So now I knew who. Two young men in the front and two young women in the back seat. Apparently, they watched America's Most Wanted and had a great memory. I was trying to decide what to do as the 911 operator told them to remain calm and not to look at me. "He can't know you're talking to me so don't panic." Then the 911 operator said, "Just keep driving and stay on the line. The nearest State Trooper is twenty-five miles south of you and headed towards you. You should see him in about ten minutes."

Great. I was just coming up on an exit, so I waited until the car in front of me had passed the exit ramp then put on my blinker, which was immediately reported to the 911 operator. They must have pulled on to the side of the interstate because they reported me pulling into a Texaco station. What they missed was my leaving through the back of the station. Knowing exactly where the State Trooper was, allowed me to back road my way out of there. When I'd covered about thirty miles I used my bolt cutter trick to drive deep into the woods, where I camped for three days before coming back out. I did love my electronic gadgets.