Chapter 2 - They Were Looking For A Rapist

Once when I was in custody, I was taken to a lineup with a few other prisoners. We were told to repeat some phrases and it soon become obvious they were looking for a rapist. To my horror I heard a woman say "That's him". I hadn't been in that city long enough to rape anybody if I had wanted to. When I opened my mouth, a cop asked me if I would like to have my head rammed through a nearby locker.

This seemed to be an excellent time to exercise some discretion so I declined his offer and closed my normally loud mouth. I waited till opportunity presented itself and inquired as to the time of the alleged rape. When an officer informed me I could hardly believe my ears. I had been lost earlier in the day and had stopped (of all places to ask directions) at a police station. My visit to that station had coincided precisely with the time of the rape. To top it all off, I'm normally poor at remembering names, but this desk Sergeant's name I remembered. His name was O'Malley, a perfect stereotype name for a cop. Had it been anything different I doubt very much I would have ever remembered it.

I told the officer I had been at a station asking directions at the time in question and told him the desk Sergeant's name. He turned out to be a really decent guy and went to check my story instead of laughing in my face, which he could have easily done. Let's face it; the problem was mine, not his! He left and made some phone calls to confirm my story.

Upon his return the officer put an end to the whole rape business. Thank God for that officer. It is an experience such as this that so graphically demonstrates how easy it is to land in prison.

It was amazing that with all the trouble I had gotten into, and the friends I keep, that my record was almost clean! I had one "unlawful use of weapons" and one "minor in possession" from a while back. The second charge came one day when I was 19 or 20 years old. I was driving with a friend named Jesse Witt. We each had a beer in our hand when we were pulled over by the police. I didn't think much of it, because the car was clean and there were no warrants for either of us. Jesse however had an intense hatred of the law. He had served a few years in Ionia (A Maximum Correctional Facility in Michigan) and swore he was not going back.

Jesse was normally very quiet and laid back, but could be fearless at times. Once when one of the clubs from Detroit came to my place to visit, (I think they wanted to know more about us) Jesse went back with them alone to party. I think they had left before I even knew what was going on. A few day later he showed up and said they had given him an impressive tour. It was a crazy thing to do but Jesse wasn't good at backing down. I'm sure the police would have let us go with our can of beer, but normally "very quiet and laid back" Jesse couldn't keep his hatred inside, so I ended up with a "minor in possession" on my nearly clean record. I may have helped him acquire the pistol (I think it was a 38) that he used in a shoot out with the police. He was killed in that gunfight. He was a good friend that I trusted and still think of him often.

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