f2point8

Bob Beamer - True confessions? Sure, why not.
I have a great story for you…

I got out of prison on Nov.20, 1975 – at The Walls Unit in Huntsville, TX. I had served 28 months at the Gladiator School for …let’s just say, (6)felony charges – mostly drug related or drug robbery related – including an old bust from high school, aka, a three year sentence for 1/4 ounce of marijuana.

The prison issued clothing. They gave a me a pair of pants and a shirt that, based on the style and colors, appeared to have come from a 1952 Montgomery Wards discount basement store – along with a new pair of underwear and socks, a bus ticket to any city in Texas, and $40 cash. Oh yes…and a new pair of “state shoes” that obviously were left over from the TX DPS supply room – they were without a doubt, military issue dress shoes.

I had heard from old boots to be on the lookout for a used clothing store guy named Jewboy, who hangs outside and will buy your jail issued clothes, then sell you new clothes that are not so conspicuous. I sold all my clothes, including the shoes, for $12 and spent another $12 on the new duds…circa 1970.

My parole required me to visit anger management and drug rehab twice a week. (One of my co-workers saw me pulled over on the freeway recently and wanted to know why they had me handcuffed… even today, I still sometimes get a red flag “assault risk – may be armed”) — so of course, I went straight to the bus station and bought a ticket to Houston… then I went around the corner to the convenience store and immediately broke the conditions of my parole – I bought a beer and sat in an alley out of sight with a half dozen other cons and drank it like a free world man, waiting for my bus departure.

The trip to Houston was a bit surreal, to say the least. I had just stepped out of HELL (this was before Texas prison reform) and into a world that had changed so much I could not recognize it. The price of gas had tripled, the Oil Crisis of the 70′s had come and gone and I missed it, Watergate happened and I had missed it (note – we were not allowed newspapers or magazines or to watch the news on TV back then, like I said, before reforms) and the President (Nixon) was not President anymore. There were these new machines called a microwave, a VCR, cable TV, the drinking age had changed from 18 to 21, there was “disco”, etc, etc.

When I stepped off the bus in downtown Houston, the SOUND was overwhelmingly LOUD. The prison farm had been quiet, this was URBAN NOISE. I looked around the station and I could recognize the ex-cons, even though I didn’t know any of them…we recognized each other, with a slight nod. I even saw one guy wearing the “state shoes” they issued him. The local cops were eyeballing his ass with intensity…poor sucker was probably going to get popped before he even got home.

My dad picked me up at the station. I smoked my first Free World joint, then found all my old friends who had been with me in prison – many of my high school friends had come and gone while I was still there. I met with my parole officer, went to my drug rehab session… and four days later, I had Thanksgiving dinner in the free world.

What followed, after I got off parole, was the adventure I took… in search of myself… that’s another great story…

Carol - My wish for you is complete freedom of choice…even to get back together with your one true love of two wheels!