by Hanley, Don;
Father Kennedy told us that he wished more of these kind of words had been presented in his seminary studies. He also played the guitar and would be happy to teach some of the inmates how to play. He would also create a band among the inmates if he could find enough musicians. Dan said he would check to see how many musicians the prison held.
Rabbi Crouch said that he had volunteered years ago to teach inmates how to play chess, but the previous administration turned him down. Addressing Dan, he asked, "Would that be possible now? Chess does teach how to think ahead—something I'm sure many of the fellows need to learn." Dan said he was sure the warden would approve and he would personally check out the interest among the inmates.
Tom Overton informed us that he had helped with a meditation group a few years ago but the previous administration, the one before Bonhoeffer's, had asked him to disband it because it was teaching religion. If we liked, he would be happy to set another one up. Shirley Pressley, an MFA in creative writing, volunteered to work with some inmates on writing, if that could be arranged.
Dan said, "I like all of your suggestions and I'll ask all of you to write up a proposal that would include time, number of needed participants, cost, necessary space, and hoped-for outcomes. I'll share them with the warden and the prison board. Would you be able to get them to me by the end of the month?" They all thought that they could. I told them that it would take several months to introduce all of these programs, but I was very pleased with their interest.
So we had some creative people ready to help us develop a more creative and humane institution. Reverend Winston had depressed me, but these four buoyed me back up. They asked if they could meet with us once a month. We enthusiastically agreed to have them join us. I thanked Sonia and J.J. for taking the lead on introducing my ideas on the Field of Compassion.
Chapter 31
JERRY
Within three weeks, Father Jim Kennedy had assembled a rhythm and blues quintet out of our original four groups and had held several practices. Being that Kennedy was the only one with a guitar, Dan and the priest had found a second guitar, a bass, a keyboard, and a set of drums.
On a Thursday morning they held their first semi-public presentation in the conference room that had almost become exclusively ours of the reform project. The audience was to include Warden Bonhoeffer, Dan McGuire, and all members of our first team—leaders, guards and inmates, plus the twenty-four members of our second group. The band would introduce the new members to our project with a medley of three popular tunes. The band consisted of Father Kennedy; one guard, Alan Fisher from J.J.'s group; second guitar, inmate Romero Gutierrez from my group; keyboard, inmate Alex Summers from Jack's group; and Sonia's inmate, Valentino Cruz, on drums.
After the audience was seated, I introduced Father Kennedy and he, in turn, introduced the band members.
They were a bit ragged, but produced a pleasant rendition of two R&B songs and began a third up-tempo number. Valentino, the drummer, began well, but as the beat increased in tempo he began to beat the hell out of the drums, then the chair backs near him, and then began to beat on the two musicians nearest him. I turned to Sonia and asked her to help me calm Val down. Although he was using only drum sticks, he was getting out of control. I jumped up and moved quickly to the band area, turned Val around, and gave him a bear hug from behind, pinning his arms to his side. As I held him tight, I backed up to the wall and pulled Val with me as we slid down the wall. So there I was sitting on the floor holding Val in front of me. I was about six inches taller than him and outweighed him by thirty or more pounds.
Sonia knelt down in front of us and asked, in Spanish, "Val, what the hell came over you?" I knew by her tone that she was not scolding him but just wanted to understand what was going on inside him. I could feel him relaxing his muscles but I didn't let go.
Val said, in both English and Spanish, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh, please let me do better. I can do it." He would say each phrase in Spanish while looking at Sonia, then repeat it in English, turning and looking at me.
Sonia whispered to me that Val had a pretty severe case of ADHD. She asked Val, "Val, did you take your meds today?"
Looking like a scolded little boy, he answered, "No, I was afraid it would take, what you say? The edge off of me. I guess big mistake, I'm so sorry."
I looked around and everyone was watching us closely, especially Dan and Henry Bonhoeffer. I was regretting that I was the one who invited them. The two guards, with their hands near their guns, looked worried and were moving our way. I asked Val, "Would you like to go back and complete the last song?"
"Oh, yes, oh, please, may I?"
I let him loose and he turned and apologized to me and said, "Thank you, Doctor, thank you." I went over to Father Kennedy, the combo organizer, and asked him to start the last song again at the beginning and that Valentino believed he could do okay. I whispered that he was ADHD, loud enough so that the other musicians could hear me.
Val did keep it together and they did manage to smoothly finish the piece. The small audience applauded loudly. I smiled. Before leaving, the warden congratulated Sonia and me on the way we handled Valentino and added, "I think it is a good introduction to the new group of inmates that we are working to show a more humane treatment of our people. From what I hear, the old regime would have ordered poor Valentino shot for attacking a guard and chaplain."
We then began the workshop with a similar lineup as we had the first. I had the first talk about everyone's need to own his elephant and that the elephant was our own positive and negative power, energy, and history of using that power for good and for evil. Our inability to know and control our elephant was what gets people into prison. I shared my own experience of control and neglecting to know and control my elephant. We then broke into four groups with Jack, J.J., Sonia, and me leading each group.
I was pleased with my own group consisting of one black guard, two Caucasians, two Hispanics, and two black inmates. This time we could be more choosy as many more inmates volunteered for the program for it was better known now. J.J. gave her talk on her history and the need for all of us to rewrite our scripts as we move into adulthood, and especially after we have had a serious setback, like committing a crime and going to prison. After each talk we had a lengthy and lively discussion. We ended the day at 5:00 p.m. It may have been just wishful thinking, but I felt like it went more smoothly and better than our first workshop.
As we headed for Dan McGuire's place, I had a very heavy feeling that something was wrong at home. It was only a five-minute drive and Rebecca called just as I drove into Dan's driveway. I picked up my cell and Rebecca said, "Jerry, I just learned that Joe Carroll made bail and was released from jail. No one seems to know where he is but it has been two or three days since he left jail. I know you plan to stay in Booneville, but I would really like you to be here. I have a terrible fear about all this."
"I can understand your feeling. I'll see what I can do and call you back shortly. In the meantime, take every possible precaution—like lock all the doors. Oh, and call that detective you met at the hospital, maybe he can send someone to the house, okay?"
Jack was in the car with me and said, "That sounds bad, I think you should go ... and take me with you."
Before I could get out of the car, Rebecca called again, "Jerry, Julie just called from the high school and said she couldn't find Kathy. She was getting ready to come home. I told her to stay there. I'm taking Detective Lawson with me. I'll keep you posted."
"I should be able to leave here and head home soon. Do let me know what's happening." I turned to Jack, "Let's go in and see if we can work something out so we both can head for St. Louis."
J.J., Sonia, and Dan were all understanding of our situation and Dan said he could take my group and we decided that Jake Salmon, the tall black man from my group, could lead Jack's group. Sonia and J.J. could call him and give him a quick orientation. I told them that he would do well.
We climb
ed back into the Prius and Jack began to apologize, "Jerry, I'm not sure why I feel such an urgency to go with you, I just feel I have to be there, okay? Joe is my brother and Kathy is my niece, and, well, I ."
"Don't worry, Jack, I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes. In a way, I am already in your shoes. Maybe all this is a false alarm and nothing real serious will happen. Still, Rebecca is not an alarmist and when she feels something, it is always important. And anyway, we'll soon have to turn our first group over to the participants and so this will be a practice run for two groups, anyway."
We had just turned onto the Interstate when my phone rang. I was driving, so I handed the cell to Jack.
Chapter 32
REBECCA
April played with Legos on the floor and Plato napped. Jerry was staying the night in Booneville with the team as they were in the middle of their second group's first workshop. Kathy's head had pretty well healed and she and Julie had gone to the high school's graduation practice. Julie was so amazingly responsible, I never asked where she was going, but she did tell me about this one. She was a great role model for Kathy to grow into.
When Jerry left for Booneville, he was like a proud parent attending his children's first recital. In only four weeks, the first team had developed an R&B combo from their own ranks, three inmates, one guard, plus young Father Kennedy. Dan McGuire and Kennedy had acquired the needed instruments for the group. I looked forward to hearing how it went, but now I sat back and enjoyed the peaceful house.
The quiet didn't last long as the house phone rang next to me. I answered, "Hello."
"Is this Ms. Rebecca Brady?" asked a very polite and cultured voice. "Yes, it is, and who is this?" Ever since my third article on prison reform and my articles on pedophiles in the Catholic Church, I had gotten several hostile calls and so I got into the habit of hanging up on all impolite, harsh, or hateful-sounding voices.
"I'm George Stevens. I would like to talk to you about a Joseph Carson, also known as Father Joe Carson, or perhaps, Father Joe Carroll. You've written about him, right?"
"I know him. What do you want to know?" I was always cautious when Joe's name came up when I was talking to someone unfamiliar to me.
"It is something private and very confidential and I cannot talk about it over the phone. Could we meet somewhere? And soon, if possible." He sounded a bit desperate but not threatening.
"Where are you calling from, Mr. Stevens?"
"You can call me George, if you wish. I'm calling from Belleville, Illinois, but I could come to St. Louis."
"If this involves the law, I would like to meet at the District Attorney's office here in St. Louis. How would that be?" If he didn't want to meet me there, he could forget it.
"That would be fine. Just tell me the time, address, and the name of the DA."
"I don't know who is handling Joe's case here, so I'll get it and call you back." He gave me his phone number and asked if we could meet this afternoon. I called the detective, Dave Lawson, and he gave me the name of the assistant DA, Paul Jennings.
Dave asked, "If this involves Joe Carroll, may I attend the meeting?"
I said, "Sure." I asked our neighbor Agnes to take care of April until Julie got home, then I called Jennings. He could meet with us at 5:00, if that was okay with me, Lawson, and Stevens.
I was a bit nervous as I entered Jennings's small office near the courthouse. Jennings looked to be in his sixties and was rather rotund with salt and pepper hair and a pleasant smile. Stewart was rather young, probably in his thirties, nervous, slight, and had a fair complexion. He had anxious eyes, as if expecting someone or something to jump out at him from every corner. After we crowded into the office, I introduced him to Dave and Paul. All three of us looked at Stevens and I said, "Well, George, tell Paul, Dave, and me what this important thing is that you couldn't tell me over the phone."
He looked around nervously, "First, Joe Carroll has been released on bail."
I jumped up and yelled, "What the hell? Is he running around loose right now?" I was terrified that the scary bastard would already be in St. Louis and looking for Kathy and me—or any member of my family to hurt us. "Dave," I asked, "could you send a patrol car to my house? Right now, only our baby April is there with the babysitter, but the other two girls, teenagers, should be home soon. Jerry is in Booneville. Please?"
Dave nodded, pulled out his cell, excused himself, and left the room.
I turned to Paul Jennings, the attorney, and yelled, "First I heard that he was being held without bail, then I understood that he was transferred to Illinois and held with a $700,000 bail. So, what the hell happened?" Then I turned to Stevens, "And you! You tell us who you are and how you are involved in all this. And how did Joe get $700,000?"
I must have scared him as he grew even more nervous. "I'm George Stevens and the son of the late Ethyl Stevens. Ethyl is, uh, was my mother who died just a month ago, and, well, ah, my sister and I just learned that our mother left us with a much smaller inheritance than we had expected. My sister, Ruth, has been reading your articles in the women's magazine and that's where we got your name. Ruth thought you, uh, might know why Joe Carroll or Joe Carson received three million dollars in our mother's will. Now, I'm guessing he's using part of that to post a bail you just mentioned." He nervously looked at each of us, and said, "Do you, Mr. Jennings, know anything about this?"
"No, I'm afraid this is the first time I've heard all this. I'll call the DA in Belleview as soon as we are through here."
It was my turn to be nervous. Three million to that bastard! "Okay, sorry George for yelling, but Joe nearly killed our foster-daughter. So where is he now?"
"I, uh, I don't know. I thought you might know or someone here, like the police or district attorney, would have some idea. It, uh, seems like you are in the dark like us. But we thought you might know something. You know his brother, Jack. Would he, perhaps, have any ideas?"
"I'm sure Jack does not know anything because he surely would have told me. Again, I turned to Jennings, "Paul, would you make that call right now and find what you can about Joe's whereabouts?"
Stevens and I sat nervously quiet while Paul called Illinois. After about five minutes of 'yeses', 'nos', 'okays' and other monosyllables, Paul ended the call and said, "He had an item on his agenda to call me today and telling me that Carroll had made bail. The judge had been informed about his arrest here and the charge of attempted murder. The judge dismissed our charges and ignored our request that Joe be held without bail for some damned reason. The DA said that the $200,000 bail was the same as being held without bail as far as this judge is concerned. I told him that I'd learned that the bail was $700,000 and he said I must be mistaken. So, George, what do you say to that?"
"I, uh, I just know what our attorney said to my sister and me."
I jumped in, "I wonder if it has anything to do with the judge dismissing our arrest here and the charge of attempted murder? Five hundred thousand dollars might look pretty nice to the judge or an attorney ... or both." I was beginning to be suspicious of everybody and I didn't like it.
Paul said, "I'm sure as hell going to look into that, pretty damned soon. Now, no one seems to have any idea where Joe might be. He has been ordered to show up in court in two weeks, that's all my colleague knew there. Damn! George, how did your mother know Joe Carroll?"
"I didn't even know his name, but mother did talk about this wonderful priest who accompanied her to the Holy Land, to Rome, to all the places that the Virgin Mary was supposed to have appeared—like Lourdes, Fatima, and others. She told us that they stayed in the finest hotels and ate in the best restaurants. It seems that she paid for all their expenses. Often it sounded like she had a boyfriend. Our father died seven years ago and I know mother was very lonely. Ruth and I thought that the priest was doing her, and us, a favor. I'll ask Ruth if she knew if it was this Father Joe Carroll."
I looked at my watch. It was a little after 6:00 p.m. As if on cue, my pho
ne rang. I dug it out of my purse and heard Julie scream, "Mom, I can't find Kathy."
Chapter 33
REBECCA
My heart was racing and I had to force myself to breathe as I listened to Julie explaining how she kept glancing into the audience section of the auditorium because she was worried about Kathy wandering off. We both knew that Kathy had to work hard to be fully conscious ever since she left the hospital. "I was distracted for about twenty minutes and then I looked out and I didn't see her. I ran off the stage and looked into the bathrooms and didn't see her. That's when I called."
"Keep looking and I'll drive over. I'm downtown now and so I'm not far away. Don't leave, wait for me, okay?" I didn't want to scare her too much by telling her Joe Carroll was on the loose, but she needed to know, so I added, "Julie, I just found out that Joe Carroll made bail and is out of jail. So be careful, okay?" I looked over at Dave and said to Julie, "The detective, Dave Lawson, that you met at the hospital will come with me, okay?" Dave nodded. I called Jerry and told him that I was worried about Joe and everyone's safety. I was relieved when he said he'd try to get home as soon as possible.
After I hung up, Dave said, "I'll send another patrol car and then I'll go with you, the uniform can bring me back here. Who knows where the girls are?"
"No one, oh, the babysitter, Agnes, would know. I'll call her right now to see if anyone called asking for Kathy or me." I called and Agnes answered. I didn't want to sound too worried, so I asked, "Hi, Agnes, how's April?"