Greed. Survival. Redemption. How Dying in Prison Saved My Life:
I started to pray. “Please save me, God. I have a loving family and loving friends. They need me! I did bad things but I’m not a bad man. I will change. I will be productive. I humbly throw myself at your mercy, God. Please save my body and save my soul.”
Unfortunately, the devil wasn’t finished with me. He was not about to leave my body without a fight. There was a place in hell reserved just for me, courtesy of my jilted investors. The devil wanted me as his servant. My thoughts turned dark, evil and pessimistic.
Maybe I should just give up. Maybe I should let my guard down and let death take me. I’ve got a 15-year sentence. I don’t want to serve all of that time. Look at me. I’ve spent all of two months in prison and look where I’m at. My life is too difficult. How will I ever show my face again in the Denver community? All I need to do is let my guard down and will myself to die.
I realized the pledge I made on my death bed would mean nothing if I couldn’t survive the rigors of prison. Before I could rehabilitate myself and improve the lives of my fellow inmates, I had to learn how to be a good inmate. I knew how to conduct myself in free society (my prison sentence said otherwise), but I realized I had little idea how to act in a prison society.