When I first entered prison I was pretty much obedient to the rules. Two years later my appeal was denied. That really hurt. Shortly after that I started making home brew. Getting drunk was a good escape from the reality of my prison cell. Then I got busted a few months later. Then I found a better way to hide it. I had a half a gallon each week – a quart on Friday night and one on Saturday night. This went on for over a year before I got busted again. Then I started smoking pot at night. Very seldom would I smoke it during the day.



My appeal was going to be heard soon so I filed for clemency through the governor. I had pretty much lost trust in the justice system by then. I had a rope and hook and was transferred to the dorm. If all fails, I thought, I will escape over the wall. Then my appeal was shot down and my clemency was denied. At 3:30 in the morning I tried going over the wall. My rope broke mid air. I didn’t get hurt from the fall. Part of the rope was left hanging from the top of the wall. I rushed back into the dorm and slid into bed on the second floor without getting caught. This was a Friday. That afternoon I took the rope and flushed it down the toilet. That evening the toilets backed up so I went to recreation.

 Monday morning a guard had me striped searched but didn’t find anything. Another guard went through all my personal property and found $210 and a temporary driver’s license. I was thrown in the hole for the contraband. I found out that my friend snitched on me and got moved out to a prison camp. When I got out of the hole I determined not to trust anyone but my pot and my home brew. The reality of my life sentence weighed heavy on me. I believed my conviction would be overturned and now with my failed escape life was bad. My heart grew very cold and my need or want for pot and home brew increased. My next-door neighbor was on a special diet so he went to the kitchen early for meals. He’d bring me back sugar for my home brew. I figured that if the state drove me to drink, the least they could do is provide the sugar. I was getting drunk twice on weekends and had a little extra when I smoked pot. Now I started to smoke pot a few times a day.

I had one goal and that was to escape. After awhile I got some hacksaw blades. Now I couldn’t find anyone I trusted to escape with me. One guy was interested and talked of doing armed robberies and shooting people. I couldn’t accept him as a partner.

Then I got busted with some pot. I was locked in my cell until the disciplinary hearing that afternoon. Would the guards tear my cell apart when I went to the hole? I hated the thought of dumping my home brew. Then a guy from the print shop where we worked stopped by. I had him step away as I got out the home brew. We each had one glass and then another. After that I decided to take the risk with the home brew. A couple of months later I did get busted with three gallons of home brew.

I started smoking pot more often; I needed to get high to get my head out of the gutter for a couple of hours. I was sinking ever lower. I was full of hatred, hopelessness and despair. Every morning I woke up coughing and gaging and gasping for air. I struggled for each breath before coughing it all out. This was living hell for me. One day as I walked down the tier a feeling came over me like I had one foot in the world of insanity. If I didn’t escape soon, I would be going insane.

I began talking to God. At first it was more complaining, and then more for help. I told Him I was sorry and felt better. A few days later my friend said he’d escape with me. We set the day for Jan. 31, 1978 at 3:30 a.m. I thought it was an answer to prayer. We each sawed out two bars in our cells and crawled around to the end of the cellblock. Our plan was to get over onto the hearing duck, climb up onto the heating unit, remove the clean out door, climb inside, cut out two bars and climb down to freedom. Two years earlier I worked in the sheet metal shop and we cut in the openings and made the clean out doors and installed them. My friend climbed onto the heating duck and the lights in the cellblock started to go on bright. We hurried back to our cells and put the bars in. At first the guards were running their hands across the bars of cells on our tier. When guard came to my cell, one of my bars fell out. More guards then hurried into our cellblock with hammers and started pounding on each bar of each cell. Two guards took me to the segregation unit. As I lay down on my bunk I looked up at the ceiling and the words, “God is my Father,” were written there. Those words just burned into my heart. Somehow I felt something good was going to come out of this.

The next day we were given conduct reports and transferred to Waupun Prison and put in the seg building. It was here that God really starting working in my life.

When I was first arrested I read the New Testament. That was over thirty years ago. Now these words became fresh in my heart, “Come to Me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). I gave my life to Jesus and received Jesus into my heart. I experienced a new freedom with a heart full of peace and love.

A few months before our escape attempt someone threw a book into my cell called “God’s Prison Gang” by Chaplain and Walter Wagner and I threw it up on my shelf. Now I began to read it. It’s a book about several convicts who had given their hearts to Jesus. All of them experienced the love of God and His forgiveness. The Bible calls this being born again. Those convicts and I were all born again and have become children of God. We have His promise of eternal life.

Two weeks later we were taken back to Green Bay for a hearing on the conduct reports. They gave me Program Seg, which meant they could keep me in segregation for a year. As soon as I got back to Waupun Prison I made up a pitcher of home brew. A couple of days went by when God impressed upon me to dump it out. I told God I wasn’t going to get drunk, but only have a glass or two a night. This went on for another day or two and then I dumped it down the toilet.

A week later I was moved into North Seg, which is a step up in the world. A week after that I was moved into unassigned, three cells away from one of the strongest Christian there at Waupun. He gave me my first Bible and as I started to read it just came alive. It really is the Word of God. I spent over a year in unassigned studding His Word and get to know God better.

They gave away rolling tobacco in prison so I kept smoking. I noticed that tars were building up around the grove in the ashtray that held my cigarette. I thought if it’s doing that to the ashtray, what is it doing to my lungs? I asked Jesus to take away my habit and He did instantly. There were no withdrawals at all. My problem was I liked smoking. Each time I lit up after that I felt like I was sinning. After three days I completely quit. I’ve been out almost 35 years and never drank alcohol or smoked pot or cigarettes since. All thanks to my God. This is my story of deliverance or my faith based treatment program.

When a person becomes a born again Christian, they are a new creation with a new set of values. For some Christians, when they get released they may think they can go back and drink or smoke moderately. Some may choose to get totally drunk and commit new crimes. But a faith base treatment program with some training can bring great success.