ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story)

by Glenn Langohr

  Joe Costello came to the rescue again. He let me move in. They only had a two bedroom condo and his Mom was in one room and he and his wife were in the other room. There was a bonus room upstairs where I had the choice of sleeping on a couch or a ledge eerily similar in size to a prison bunk. The couch cushions slid off too easily, so I chose the ledge. He also had Siamese cats. They were used to the bonus room and let me know by spraying everything.

  The preacher said to give all the glory to God so I did and Prestigious Transport and the Italian restaurant gave me 80 hours of work a week. I called my parole officer and reported the progress to him. “Mr. Heimrick, I can prove to you by the amount of hours I’m working that there just isn’t enough time for me to do anything else.”

  CHAPTER 138

  Being locked in a cell taught me about the saying “Out of sight, out of mind” so I made my prestigious presence felt by perching in front of the Marriot so they could see me at all times. When business was slow I read the newspaper. Articles about the three strikes law appeared and I learned that proposition 66 was a draft to help define the strike law to target violent offenders and give the non-violent offenders relief. I remembered what Shotgun had said and read about the senator from Santa Maria, Mr. Claus. Even though his daughter was the victim that got the ball rolling on the three strikes law he was admitting that the law was targeting too many non-violent offenders. He pointed out that a large percentage of those non-violent offenders were drug users and that he felt it was more humane to give them treatment rather than incarceration. His opinion was that if we incarcerated them we could expect them to get built into bigger, more violent criminals. I thanked God for such a smart and caring man.

  Another article I read was against Proposition 66. It was pure lies and propaganda. It was endorsed by the California Prison Union, parole, probation and the Sheriffs. They were using terror tactics on the public and warning that if the three strikes law changed, CHILD MOLESTORS, RAPIST AND MURDERER’S could be released! I reread the other articles and verified that only non-violent offenders would be affected! I went inside the Marriot and looked at their T.V. in the bar and watched the T.V. ads start.

  Mr. Claus represented that Proposition 66 was only meant to take two non-violent felonies off the strike-able list. One being ‘Petty theft with a prior’, and the other one being certain residential burglaries where the burglar just went into a garage and there wasn’t a chance of violence. He pointed out that the law was targeting a class of drug addicts whose crimes weren’t violently inclined. He pointed out that if we institutionalize them we’ll be responsible for building them into bigger, more violent criminals. He pointed out that the prison union in California was so big that they had enough control to give themselves raises to the point they could make up to $130,000 a year and that it was in their interest to keep the three strikes redefinition from passing. He pointed out that they were going to try and terrorize the public with many more ads on T.V. than theirs.

  I watched him proved right. For every one of his ads, there were ten against the law getting redefined. In one dramatic commercial that seemed to come on every ten minutes it showed prison guards walking with gun towers behind them, with a caption that they walked the toughest beat, then prison bars closing dramatically and the bars clanking shut, then the governor’s face saying, “If this three strikes law changes, CHILD MOLESTORS, RAPIST AND MURDERERS will be released.” Then there was the caption that said the California prison union, Sheriffs, parole and probation department endorse the ad. I walked back to my car shaking my head.

  Sitting in my Lincoln Town Car I thought about it and did some math. With close to 250,000 incarcerated souls in California’s prisons there had to be four times that amount who had been incarcerated at one time. I considered their families and imagined a pretty substantial voting bloc. Then I considered how big California government was with the prison union, parole, probation, Sheriffs, D.A.’s and their families. I decided their voting block was just as substantial. So who could lead the rest of the sheep on the side lines to vote their way. Whoever spent the most money on ads. I knew the terror tactics by big government that CHILD MOLESTORS, RAPIST AND MURDERERS being released was going to win more support.

  Over the next few days I watched the poll numbers go from 65% in our favor of defining the law more clearly, to 60%, and then to 55% on the last night until the polls closed. The next morning I read that it had gone down to 49%, big government won in the bottom of the ninth inning! The sheep were led astray. I kept reading the article. A chairman for a big chip maker, Chipcom, local to our area was responsible for funding the ad with the lies. He lived in a gated community nearby.

  Another newspaper ad that got my spirit restless had to do with the top law enforcement official. His son, Hadley, had video footage of him and his friend’s gang raping an underage girl the media referred to as Jane Doe. In the video, the article said it looked like Jane Doe was on drugs to the point she didn’t look completely conscious. She was positioned on a pool table and the son and his friends took turns using her with their own bodies and foreign objects. The article said they were making a party of it with rap music in the back ground. Other evidence came out that the junior Hadley admitted to slipping date rape drugs in Jane Doe’s drink. The articles that followed mentioned the son getting in more trouble while out on bail and law enforcement getting caught trying to cover for him. In one of a couple run-ins with the law after being released on bail, the junior Hadley was arrested with some pot in his pocket with his car keys and drivers license. Then, when some of the department realized this was the top official’s son they tried to cover up the pot charge, but, it was too late because the original deputy had already reported the incident on the police airwaves. Other articles mentioned the father hiring a team of high powered attorneys to defend his son. These attorneys hired a team of investigators and medical experts and came up with a defense. Investigators interviewed Jane Doe’s friends and stated that Jane Doe had claimed to want to be a porn star when she grew up and that she was just living out her dream. They stated that she was already a promiscuous girl and hinted that what happened on video could only be expected. The medical expert stated that in the video Jane Doe might not have been completely unconscious and noted that her eyes seemed to slightly open a few times. In his expert opinion she probably knew what was going on and wasn’t completely unconscious.

  CHAPTER 139

  The next time I reported for parole at the Sheriff’s substation to drug test, while waiting in the line of other parolees, I saw detective Pincher staring at me. He was standing next to the open door to the bathroom with another gang detective. The line moved and I stood next to him awaiting my turn to pee in a cup. I saw my parole officer wave me in.

  He handed me the plastic cup and said, “Benny you’re doing really good. Keep it up and you’ll get off parole and this will be behind you. I spoke on your behalf in our Tri-County briefing. You’re not going to get harassed as much.”

  I walked out and passed detective Pincher. He followed me to my Town car and stood on the curb.

  “B.J. you picked a fight that I’m going to finish.”

  I looked at him and said, “Man I’m just trying to survive, why don’t you leave me alone.”

  CHAPTER 140

  Business picked up enough and I realized I had enough coming in to shop for a condo. At first I couldn’t find anything I could afford, and then I found a one bedroom studio in San Clemente going for $106,000 in a H.U.D. complex. I checked it and was sold before even seeing it when I realized it came with an unattached garage to put my Town Car in to keep it out of the weather.

  At the same time, while picking up a client at the Saint Regis for the first time, I saw Sarah, A.K.A. Piper! Sarah approached me and I was instantly intoxicated by her long brown hair, exotic eyes, pretty face and sexy bone structure. We started seeing each other and our passion pulled us closer and closer.

  I found a real estate agent and we
nt over my documented income via my credit card machine. The thing I was worried about was my credit so I put all of my cash together that came to $25,000 for a down payment. It was enough to get a loan processed! My mortgage was only $598 a month, a few bucks less than my Town car. I thought back to the advice Joe had given me about credit, I thought about the preacher’s advice to be bold and was overwhelmed with emotions that I was making it. I ran around giving the glory to God like my preacher had said and counted my blessings. That Sunday I was too busy to make it to church for the first time.

  I managed to talk Sarah into moving into the condo with me. As soon as we entered, She pointed out that I’d bought a cave. It was only 600 square feet. From the front door you could see the whole condo cramped together with an open bedroom, the bathroom didn’t have a window and on and on. I looked at it through her eyes and realized she’d grown up in a mansion on the top of hill overlooking Laguna Beach, Dana Point and San Clemente before getting raped and going on a run that took her to hell and back until she made it back to her Dad’s. I laughed to myself that to me the condo was the Promised Land; I was off the ledge the cats were spraying.

  My first 13 months of parole came and I had my fingers crossed that I would get discharged from parole. I thought, I haven’t turned in a dirty drug test and I work 80 hours a week, maybe I’ll get blessed. Then I told myself, don’t count on it with all of the noise in my file, expect to stay on parole for three years no matter how clean a program I run.

  My parole officer confirmed that the board of prison terms denied discharging me. I got over it and got lost in a blur of 80 hour work weeks. My Dad showed me some love by actually encouraging me for the first time and paid for six months of advertising in our local yellow pages. My limo business picked up so much that I had to quit my job at the restaurant. I learned that the only way to make the limo business worthwhile would be to go big and buy an extravagant Hummer, Navigator or Expedition limo. They brought in rates of $150 an hour, whereas regular limos only brought in $65 hour. With all of the overhead and California “fuck you” fees you couldn’t scratch much profit.

  For the next year I drove clients all over Southern California in a perpetual blur of my version of Nascar Town Car and put over 100,000 miles of pavement pounding on the limo. Sarah stopped getting any satisfaction out of her job at the Saint Regis and I noticed the transition for her from a mansion to our cave was taking its toll. I also noticed what a rad girl friend she was in that she understood how hard my life had been and supported my efforts, spoke up for me and enthusiastically responded to my sexual hunger from being locked up for five years. I wasn’t complaining.

  Then Sarah had a string of things go wrong. Trouble at work, a D.U.I and then her car broke down and she was stuck in our cave. I came home from a long day and she let me have it.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into moving in with you! I wish I wouldn’t have let myself fall in love with you!”

  I was stunned. I’d never seen Sarah’s strong and independent spirit getting this emotional. I’d always looked at her like an incredibly attractive tomboy. I watched her cry and felt my heart opening and realized I’d kept it closed this whole time. Then she confirmed it.

  “You don’t even treat me like a girl friend. You never take me out to dinner, we never go anywhere or do things couples do. You’re just using me for sex and to help you out with your mortgage!”

  I thought about her words and that she’d fallen in love with me and didn’t feel like I had with her. I thought about how chaotic my financial struggle to operate my business was, dealing with so many bills and realized I was just like my Dad. I was a miser. I told her, “I’m in love with you too. I’m just lost in a sea of bills and can’t keep up with how much money is coming in and how much is going out. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can…”

  After that fight I felt Sarah pulling away from me and closing her heart. I tried to hold on to her by doing everything I could think of to bring her pleasure in bed to the point her pleasure was my pleasure and I got really creative. The incredible highs we reached in bed weren’t enough; it was just mind blowing sex to her and didn’t have anything to do with love. I still felt her sliding away and looked at it like it was the suffocating feeling of poverty she couldn’t handle. I realized I didn’t want to be in the cave all alone and fought to get her back in love with me with flowers, candy, lingerie, stiletto heels, dinners, movies, trips and even more creativity. I felt her coming back to me and responding to my creative ways with more and more unbridled passion. Then poverty reared its ugly head even harder.

  CHAPTER 141

  We were given notice by our community that the builders were coming for reconstruction. I had noticed in my escrow papers that a law suit had been won to deal with faulty drainage that was creating mold. The condos were situated underneath a prominent hillside that drained into our pit bowl. I read the details of the law suit and saw that money had been allocated for hotel accommodations while the builders were reconstructing. I convinced Sarah it would be good for us to get away and live in a hotel, it would be like a vacation, and we could get really creative.

  Then the builders came to our unit and apprised us that the money allocated for hotels was being used elsewhere. We were going to have to make our own living arrangements for up to a month and a half. We started hearing stories of other condo owners who were already having work done in their units living in their garages. A school teacher with kids was hit so hard she attempted suicide. I sweet-talked Sarah as much as I could, hoping she’d buckle down and survive some hard times to make it to the glorious ones. She was responding to our increasingly erotic, carnal exploration of salacious ecstasy I was creating and I convinced us both it was love.

  CHAPTER 142

  The next domino to fall happened on 9/11. The tragedy that sent shock waves around the world was going to directly affect the economy and even more directly every transport business from the airlines to my business. I went from having twelve hour days to nothing. The hotels were dead. I got so desperate I went to L.A.X. to try and poach rides and the always busy airport was like a ghost town with speculation the terrorists were focusing on it. I tried to do the same thing at the Orange County airport. I stood by the curb holding a sign with a pretend name on it right next to the cross walk to the taxi mart. I felt so desperate and hinky telling people under my breath walking to the taxi mart, “I’ve got a town car for the same rate as the taxis, right this way.”

  It worked! I walked a customer to my car and thanked God! This string of volume might get me through!

  The customer was only going across the street to a hotel and I got five bucks. I drove back across the street to the airport to try again. Another customer must have heard me poaching because the taxi mart had security posted up. I tried my fake sign again willing to wait for an opportunity to open up, saw one, had a customer walking with me and saw security coming. I had to race out of the airport. I researched how much trouble I could get in for poaching and learned I would lose my limo license, get fined and go to jail. A couple of days later without any business, I tried again without my PRESTO 1 plates. I got chased out and this time I had to break all kinds of driving laws to get away.

  The weeks passed without any business. I sat at my condo alone while Sarah was at work. I evaluated things. A sinking feeling of despair started developing that I was going to lose everything. It felt like I wasn’t capable of keeping up. I wasn’t financially good enough for Sarah. I couldn’t afford my business anymore. I magnified on it until it felt like I was sliding down another black hole similar to the one I remembered from my past. I felt those desperate times that brought those desperate actions knocking at my door. I didn’t want to answer it so I prayed about it and thought things out.

  I finally had time to do my accounting properly and learned my average month’s overhead was $5,000. I learned that my average month’s income was $7,000. I had a nest egg to cover three months. As the days p
assed without any business the feeling of impending doom grew. I knew what I needed to do; I needed to end Prestigious Transport to eliminate 75% of my expenses. I couldn’t do it. Thoughts entered my head that business could pick back up again pretty soon.

  CHAPTER 143

  My second year of parole came and I again hoped for a discharge. It didn’t happen, but I got released from high-control parole down to regular supervision. My first thoughts were, I just had a caring human being with an open mind in charge of my freedom, what if my new parole officer isn’t like that?

  The next morning there was a loud persistent knocking on the door that was obviously law enforcement. Sarah had just got out of the shower and was putting on make-up and getting ready to go to work at the Saint Regis. I closed the bathroom door and walked to the door and heard her reopen it and say, “There isn’t a window in here! I have to keep the door open so it’s not a sauna in here!”

  I opened the front door and saw a skinny lady wearing brown Dickie pants, a badge attached on one side of her hip, a gun holstered on the other side of her hip, with a white tee shirt tucked in, a focused pretty face and brown hair. She had detective Pincher right behind her and too many gang task force detectives behind him to count or fit in my patio.

  The skinny lady said, “I’m agent Stepwolf and your new parole officer. I’m doing a home visit.”

  I reluctantly stepped inside knowing everyone wouldn’t fit in my tiny condo. I said, “My girlfriend is trying to get ready to go to work at the Saint Regis.”

  Agent Stepwolf squeezed through the space and said, “I’m going to need her to take it out of the condo so we can conduct a thorough search of your residence.”