A Rude Awakening

As the first rays of daylight began to make there way through the very few small windows located near the ceiling in the Morgan Street Jail, and after a very long and uncomfortable night...I managed to close my eyes and escape into a half-sleep. I'm not sure how long I may have dozed, but it couldn't have been much more than an hour. It is amazing how one loses all sense of time in jail...minutes feel like days. I was awakened by the clanging of steel doors as some of the prisoners I was locked up with were notified that their bail had been paid...and they could leave. As the door clanged shut behind them...and I realized that nobody in my life even knew where I was...or what had occurred the night before...my heart sank. It is a pretty rude awakening...waking up in a jail for the first time. It is very cold and damp...there is no furniture of any kind...and it was a pretty filthy place...and I tried to put the thought that I might be staying there for a very long time...out of my mind. I had been given my one phone call the night before...and got no answer when I had called my house. The police had made it very clear that they felt they had complied with their Constitutional requirements...and there would be no other phone calls for me. A kind of low-level claustrophobia began to set in...as I realized that I had absolutely no choices about anything...not even about whether or not I could eat, sleep, or even use a toilet...things that I had never thought about as "privileges" before this...I had just always taken those things for granted. The reality of what being incarcerated really meant...was just beginning to register in my brain. I didn't like it at all. I started to really wonder how and when I was going to get out of this place...if ever. I knew I was going to be arraigned that morning in Hartford Superior Court...but I had no clue about what that meant...or what would happen...or when. I desperately clung to the idea that there would be somebody...some familiar face...waiting there...to post bail...once it had been set. But I also knew it was more likely that nobody would be there...and after being arraigned, I would be right back in the same cage...maybe for days...or weeks...until someone found out where I was. It was amazing to me how quickly my thoughts...turned to...and focused on only one thing....freedom. I began to realize that as far as the "world" was concerned...I was just a criminal...a "bad guy"...and I was right where I belonged. That was a pretty rude awakening too...because up until that moment...that was never how I had thought of myself. But as I pondered the seriousness of the charges against me...I realized that sympathy for me...and my situation...would be in very short supply...unless it came from people who cared about me...I began to put a lot of hope in the guy who had promised to call Don for me after he had been released. It was a pretty tough to realize  that my best hope for getting out of jail was a person whose name I didn't even know, whom I had only met for thirty seconds...while we were sharing a jail cell together, and whom I would probably never see again...keeping a promise to me that he made as he was walking out of my life forever...and who probably had many other things that were more important to him at that moment...than keeping a promise to a stranger in a jail cell. I began to realize how my circumstances were forcing me to count on total strangers for even the faintest glimmers of hope...and that didn't make me feel a whole lot better...because my life experiences had taught me that I was often very disappointed when I had counted on my friends...or even my own family...to follow through on promises. I vascillated back and forth between the distant hope that my new "friend" had made the call to Don...and the very real likelihood that he hadn't.

   What seemed like an eternity later...the guards came and loaded us all into a paddy wagon for transport to the Court for the arraignment. Even that felt like a welcome change...but in reality...I was also still feeling like a sheep...being led to slaughter. We were all placed in another cage...just outside the Courtroom...where we were all handcuffed, and we were all shackled together by chains...attached to our ankles. It was very de-humanizing and humiliating...and I realized again...how I would be perceived by the society I suddenly no longer felt I was a part of. I fought to get a glimpse into the courtroom every time someone from the group was called to be arraigned...but I never had an angle to see anything at all inside the Court...so I could only wait in quiet desperation...until my turn came. After about an hour...my turn did come...and as I walked into the Courtroom...I looked anxiously around for anything that resembled a familiar face. Just before I was about to go in front of the judge...I was notified that there was an attorney there that wanted to speak to me. As I walked around the corner...I recognized an attorney that worked in the office of my attorney...(my attorney was a close friend and a customer of mine)and I realized...with a flood of gratitude...that my new "friend" from jail had actually made the call he had promised to make...and had reached Don...who had contacted my attorney...who happened to have his offices in Hartford. The lawyer didn't have a lot of time...my case was being "called"...so he just told me to say nothing...and that he would arrange bail for me. I think the exact words were..."I'll have you out of here in an hour"...and they were music to my ears...and the best words I had ever heard.

Uncharted Waters

As I was driven to the Hartford Police Station for booking and processing, I felt like I was in a dream...but I knew I wasn't asleep. I was in uncharted waters...totally unfamiliar territory...and I didn't like the total loss of control I was feeling. I had never been arrested before...and I was experiencing a smorgasborg of feelings...most of them very disconcerting. I was unsure about what was going to happen next...and although I had played this possible scenario out in my mind many times over the years I had been dealing...and how I would respond to it if it ever actually happened...I was totally unprepared for how different it felt from my imaginary mental projections. This was the real event...and I realized very quickly that there was no way to adequately prepare for this. I had been involved in the drug business long enough to have seen many friends go through what I was now experiencing...and the one lesson that I had learned quickly was...that cooperating with the police wasn't an option. I was still involved primarily with lifelong friends...and fellow musicians...and at no time did giving any of them up to the police as a way of trying to avoid my own consequences ever cross my mind.

I was booked, fingerprinted and then brought back to the office of the detectives who had busted me, for questioning. The first thing they chose to do was to run a chemical test on the cocaine I had been caught with...and as the vial with the chemical agent for the test turned a very deep blue color (normally, a "positive" test result for the presence of cocaine produces a light blue color) ...the head detective looked at me with a grin and said..."you really are from out of town aren't you?" I knew he was sarcastically but triumphantly commenting on the amazing purity of the cocaine I had been caught with (it was a very good batch,  by any standards...ether-washed Peruvian cocaine...something that had become very scarce, as cocaine had grown in popularity). He started to tell me that I could help myself a great deal if I was willing to give him the name of my supplier...or I could just spend the next fifteen years in prison...it made no difference to him...but with the amount and quality of the product I had been caught red-handed with...already pre-packaged by me, and ready for sale...he made it very clear that the jail time was a certainty if I didn't cooperate. I made up some bullshit story that I didn't know my drug connection's last name...but that his first name was Carlos...but I had no way to contact him...because he would always find me. It was complete fiction...and I think the detective had no trouble recognizing that...because he said..."I hope you enjoy prison life...but if you change your mind after sitting in a cell for a little while...ask for me". He then got up...and left the room. A few minutes later, a uniformed officer came in and led me downstairs to the Morgan Street Jail...a notoriously unpleasant place...and I was thrown into a cage with about twenty other people who were there because they had been arrested for various other offenses that night. I was totally out of my element...wearing leather stage clothes, and in a holding tank with some pretty unsavory characters. I tried to keep to myself..but after an hour or two...a black guy who obviously recognized the situation for exactly what it was...came up to me and started to push me saying..."give me your money." I tried to tell him I didn't have any, which was true...all of my personal belongings had been confiscated and were being searched...but I had been allowed to keep my wristwatch...which  he promptly demanded from me. I resisted..but after a few quick blows to my head...I gave him what he wanted. About five minutes later...a Police guard who heard the commotion came up and asked me if I was OK...and had anyone done anything to me. I knew enough to say "Nah, I'm OK...everything is OK"...and the guard left. For the rest of the night I was left alone. I guess I had passed some kind of jailhouse test...and had surprised a number of my black cellmates with my response...because a few of them even ended up getting on the case of the guy who hit me...saying to  him "that was really fucked up, man." 

That was probably the longest night of my life. I had plenty of time to think about the repercussions I would soon experience as a result of this arrest. I wondered if my long held belief that I would now be arrested for my Mom's murder would become a reality. I wondered how the arrest would affect my relationship with my Dad. I wondered how it would affect my business relationship with my drug connections. I wondered about the fifteen years of prison time I had been told was now a certainty...and if that was really to be my future. I wondered about my friends, my dog, my house, and my life as I knew it...and I wondered about how all of those things would be affected. I wondered about the album that was almost finished...and how this event was certain to affect that project.  I wondered how this had even happened. I was furious with myself for being so careless...and for unnecessarily carrying around such a large quantity of drugs. Although burglaries and thefts had forced me into that routine...I now felt (for the very first time...and too late) that a theft was a lot better than being busted. And I wondered how anyone who I thought might be able to help me to get bonded out of jail would even find out about where I was...or even know about the arrest. It had happened in a different city from where I lived...over thirty miles away...and since I had never been arrested before, I knew that none of my friends or family would be looking for me in a jail in Hartford. The only person who could have told anyone about what had just happened was Jay...and he was sitting a few feet away from me...in the same cage. It was indeed...a very long night. As morning broke, some of the other guys who had been locked up with me started to get bailed out. One of the black guys who had spoken up after I had lied to the guard...came up to me just before he was sprung and asked me if I wanted him to call anyone for me...when he got out. I was amazed at the request...and although I wasn't sure if he actually would follow through as I watched him getting ready to be released...I told him my home phone number...and told him to ask for "Don"...and that my name was Michael. He promised me he would call as soon as he got out. As I watched him go...I realized I had no way to know if that was true...or how long I'd be in jail...and suddenly...I realized just how really long fifteen years in prison could actually be...and in my heart...I knew that wasn't something I would be able to do...and survive. As I realized all of these things...I knew that nothing would ever  be the same as it had been for me. I was definitely now in...uncharted waters.

Busted!

As I headed down the Interstate to Hartford with Jay, I had no idea that everything in my life was about to change forever. I thought I was going to enjoy a night out with some musician friends...I was relaxed and happy...I had just been paid some long overdue money which would be helpful in helping to pay for pressing costs for the album...which  was almost ready to be manufactured. I had no drug business set up for that evening...this was just me going out to hear a band that I knew well. My guard was down. I had survived being a prime suspect in two brutal homicide investigations, and had been using and dealing drugs with impunity for almost ten years without ever having been arrested or experiencing any legal consequences of any kind...and although I was usually very careful and alert...on this night...I didn't feel like I was doing anything that would put me at any risk. I had become so used to always carrying drugs around, and never having problems when I did...that I think I actually forgot for a little while that I was driving around in my "warehouse" full of illegal drugs. I knew I had the usual few grams of cocaine for my personal use on me...as well as the ten or so joints I always would roll in advance before going anywhere...but I guess I just didn't see that as an unusual event or a risk. I had become complacent...and complacency breeds carelessness...and as I neared the outskirts of Hartford with Jay...my thoughts were on the album, and the band I was about to see. Jay seemed relaxed, too...and the converstion was pleasant...and he did a great job of distracting me from my usually cautious attitude.

   The club we were going to was less than a block away from the Hartford Train Station, and that whole section of the city could have been considered the "entertainment district"in Hartford...because most of the city's live music clubs were all pretty much located within a couple of city blocks of there. There was usually a very casual and laid-back party atmosphere in that area...and as we approached the station, it was apparent that lots of people were out that night...because there wasn't a lot of available parking anywhere. I found a spot under an overpass that the trains travelled on, and as I pulled into the parking area,  I looked up and saw three of the guys in the band I was going to see...headed in my general direction. They hadn't seen me...but they obviously had just taken a break after playing their first set...and were going outside to get high. I pulled to a stop, and rolled down my window and called to them, and they all recognized me and came over to my car, and I invited them into the car with us. It was at that moment that Jay asked if he could borrow my lighter, and promptly lit a cigarette... something which would prove to be significant later on. As they opened the back doors, and got into my car...we exchanged greetings, and they immediately lit a couple of joints and started passing them around. Once the joints came around to me, I realized that this wasn't very good stuff...so I pulled out a couple of my joints and lit them up. As the joints got passed around, everyone in the car became engrossed in conversation...and I don't think anybody noticed that an old car was pulling up in front of mine, blocking me in. As I became aware of it...I watched  two guys jump out of the car and approach mine, until they were only a few feet away. As I saw them approach, I thought to myself "who are these guys?" I thought they were bikers, because that's what they looked like and were dressed like...they were disheveled and dirty...but as they walked steadily in the direction of the car, I thought to myself "what the hell do these guys think they're doing?" One of them walked directly up to the driver's door, and although the windows were up...I plainly heard him say..."Hartford Police...shut off the car!" Everyone in the car got very quiet, and I know at that moment I still didn't believe him. I thought he was joking, or that either I was about to be mugged, or that someone just wanted a few free tokes. But this guy wasn't very friendly at all...and without moving I replied with a little bit of attitude..."Yeah...right! Show me your badge." I couldn't believe my eyes when he reached under his shirt, and pulled a chain with a badge that read "Hartford Police Detective" out, stuck it in front of the window with one hand, and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol with the other...and aimed it at my head. As I slowly realized that this guy really was the Police...my door was pulled open, and he again yelled at me to shut off the car. I couldn't really comprehend what was actually happening I don't think...the whole thing happened very fast...and felt surreal...but I turned off the engine, and didn't move. I remember them being on each side of the car, and pulling open the back doors and telling everybody in back to get out....very slowly. As each guy from the band did, they were frisked for weapons and searched for drugs. That took a couple of minutes, but it felt like a lot longer than that to me. Then they told Jay to get out, and  went through the same routine with him. Finally, they told me to get out of the car, and as I did, one of the cops frisked me, while the other one went through the back seat. It only took a second before the one searching the car came up with a small amount of marijuana in a bag, and a couple of joints that were both obviously dropped on the floor of my car by my "friends." As the cop searching me got to my back pockets, he found the leather tobacco pouch I always carried, and when he opened it and found the large vial of coke...and all the joints that were still in there...his eyes lit up...and he smiled at me and sarcastically said..."I guess this must be the leader of the band." I knew I was screwed, but it still hadn't registered yet just how screwed...because I still hadn't remembered  about all the stuff that was still in the trunk of my car. I was actually thinking about the guys in that band...and how they had an audience waiting. I was really pissed that they had thought only of themselves when they had dropped their stuff on the floor of my car...but I understood why they did it. I'm sure it was almost a reflex. And since I knew that I was fucked either way...because everything had been found in my car...I looked at the cop who was obviously enjoying himself, and said... "these guys didn't do anything...and all this stuff is mine...so why don't you just give them a break and let them go...so they can finish their gig." He didn't say a word...but took my keys and opened the trunk. As he opened it up and I saw my leather bag sitting in there....my heart sank...because it was at that moment that I realized that this was going to be really bad. The cop opened up the bag...looked at his partner and said "Bingo!"...as he pulled out the six pounds of marijuana, and grabbed the thermos and opened it up. As he pulled out what was inside...over two ounces of cocaine packaged for sale in many different quantities...he just walked over to me and said "You're under arrest!" As I was being cuffed, and his partner was cuffing Jay, and I just looked at him and said "I'm sorry, man." The cop then looked at the guys in the band and said "go on...get the hell out of here!"...and as they quickly did...a few cruisers arrived on the scene, and Jay and I were put in the backseat of one of them and driven the twenty blocks or so to the Hartford Police Headquarters for booking.