Not long ago, I received a comment that it seemed like I had changed during the writing of the book. She was right. All the research, the hours of interviewing Jerry in prison, had changed my views on many things. I became aware that the prison system is a blight on humanity that will never go away; I concluded that in many cases justice is not only blind, but deaf and dumb as well; that trying to stop drug use is a lesson in futility; that the CIA rules the world and there is nothing to be done about it; that while the poor might one day inherit the earth, they will never get the mineral rights—and so forth.
Yes, I have changed. The book has taken on a life of its own, and I have to restrain my feelings when I write. It is no longer just a great story about Jerry LeQuire, but has become my journey as well. I became involved in his life, his family and friends. When he told me about fellow inmates who had no one to help, who needed shoes, couldn’t afford to buy soft drinks, I sent them money. I did it because they were his friends. Their response was great because, even though it was a small amount of money, no one had shown they cared. But I did it because Jerry said they were deserving. I tried to help him make peace with his family. We talked about love and forgiveness. Yes, I changed.
Jerry showed my just how nice it was to have real friends, how we on the outside take that for granted. He showed me in a big way the consequences of bad decisions. From my visits, I saw that prison is not the answer to almost any question posed, except in those circumstances where people have to put away to protect society.
Prisoners ask the same questions as us, sort through similar issues. They wonder about God, about political strife, about economics---all things that puzzle us. They are people. Jerry was more than just a number; he was a person. So, yes, I have changed.
Yes, I have changed. The book has taken on a life of its own, and I have to restrain my feelings when I write. It is no longer just a great story about Jerry LeQuire, but has become my journey as well. I became involved in his life, his family and friends. When he told me about fellow inmates who had no one to help, who needed shoes, couldn’t afford to buy soft drinks, I sent them money. I did it because they were his friends. Their response was great because, even though it was a small amount of money, no one had shown they cared. But I did it because Jerry said they were deserving. I tried to help him make peace with his family. We talked about love and forgiveness. Yes, I changed.
Jerry showed my just how nice it was to have real friends, how we on the outside take that for granted. He showed me in a big way the consequences of bad decisions. From my visits, I saw that prison is not the answer to almost any question posed, except in those circumstances where people have to put away to protect society.
Prisoners ask the same questions as us, sort through similar issues. They wonder about God, about political strife, about economics---all things that puzzle us. They are people. Jerry was more than just a number; he was a person. So, yes, I have changed.
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