Once upon a time, on October 21, 2012, I sat in a parking lot waiting to make an appointment to have my eyebrows waxed at this really nice spa in Brookfield, Wisconsin. At ten forty five a.m. I suddenly realized that I had left some very important notes five miles away in a coffee shop; the notes were about a very important man (important to me) that I was writing a profile about and I zoomed off to retrieve them.
In that space of time a gun man decided to shoot his wife at the very spa that I was attempting to acquire an appointment at. This situation left seven people dead at that spa so thanks to that magical man in Massachusetts and my carelessness I received the gift of life for another who knows how long.
A few months prior to this incident I had sat in the House of Correction for sixty three days for a silly, stupid crime (I had been caught driving without a valid driver’s license and my probation officer thought that I would be better off away from the hustle and bustle of normal life in a secure environment with 70 other hardened criminals who had done things like murder, 4 or 5 DUI’s, selling drugs and prostitution). You have to love the legal system it assumes we are all guilty no matter the situation. I went along without complaining. I sat on a very famous intake bench for ten to twelve hours waiting to be processed into the jail. I spent one night in a holding cell until it was time for me to get on a bus and be shipped off to the real jail, which was forty-five minutes away.
Being the first member of the Milwaukee junior league to ever end up in this situation, I wasted no time in getting to know my new environment. In the end, I helped two girls obtain their GED. I helped get some women into AA meetings. I also helped this other woman write a business plan for her future business entity.
Maybe it is all a coincidence; maybe this is all just one of those situations that can never have any answers. I think a guardian angel was looking out for me that day and I completely and totally worship and adore the thought that this man had some sort of connection to the paranormal and made my life a much better place to be. I consider him my angel.
The day I got out of jail this same man came galloping across my heart in a manner that I cannot ever explain. It is weird and freaky that I question maybe there is no such thing as coincidence.
But, things happen in the way they do, and I still have no answers. The stigma of being in jail has all but left me, thanks to my involvement in better things like helping people, and making other people’s lives better. Normally, I am the one who is cleaning up the messes, not causing the messes. I see myself as a parallel to Ray Donovan and Dexter and agent Scully, the characters who genuinely want to make a difference and help others without causing problems.
I went back to the junior league; I went back to the Azana spa. I moved to D.C. and went back to my life in charity work and fixing other people’s problems. Yes, I have an arrest record that would impress many normal people. Thank goodness, I am not normal and I am proud of that record no matter what.
I learned so many things from my jail incident, more important truths about life that are not taught to us in school or society. You have to experience jail to understand how important it is to you. I will carry that incident with me and hopefully use this experience to help others find their way into this world without fucking up their life in the manner that I fucked up my own.
The only horrible thing is that I now have a daughter who hates me, and there ain’t shit I can do to fix it. But she is self-absorbed and extremely selfish. I can only go on and be myself and hope maybe I can help others before it is too late.
I will always love that magical man who saved my life in so many ways. There is no communication between us as of late, and if he ever reads this I hope he knows how much I love him.