Escaping Homelessness: June, 1998 to March 10, 1999: "In The Belly Of The Whale" My Darkest Days
Before I start here let me add a couple of points to the story. In 1990 I obtained a US passport and transposed the last two digits of my Social Security number on the passport application. When I came to California in 1996, I absconded from two years of probation that I still owed in Houston.
From 1994 to my arrival in San Francisco I researched and started to write the life story of a Brasilian drug dealer named Paul Lir Alexander. While engaging in drug dealing he was an Israeli Mossad agent and on the CIA payroll to the tune of $1,000,000 US per year. He had substantial evidence of CIA involvement in drug dealing.
Around six in the evening one week night, the phone rang in my room. I answered. A man introduced himself and told me that he was a lawyer. His words were: "I work with a man named Oliver. He's not a bright guy. But he's made a lot of money in the movie business." I froze and knew immediately that he was talking about the film maker Oliver Stone. This lawyer knew all about Paul Alexander. We agreed to meet in his office in Oakland at nine the next morning.
I rode my bike to the meeting. My world was changing again. A serious movie producer was looking at my material. This could be my ticket out of poverty.
I was living off my severance pay. I was renting a room in a luxury home from a woman who was wealthy and had a romantic interest in me. I had no romantic interest in her. She got bitter and angry. She served me with an eviction notice. I could have fought her in court for a couple of months. But I was a wanted man. I could not afford the attention. I loaded a lot of my property in my car and fled to San Jose. I found myself back in the homeless shelter. I would sleep at different churches each night.
On September 11, 1998 at five in the afternoon I was eating dinner at the Crown Plaza Mexican Restaurant in San Jose,California. I had my dinner and Margarita on the table. A man came up to me and asked me: "Are you Jack?" The next thing I knew I was thrown to the floor and handcuffed. Six heavily-armed US Marshals surrounded me.
It was Happy Hour. The restaurant was full of customers. One of them laughed and said the the US Marshals: "You mean it takes six of you to arrest one harmless old man?" Three of the US Marshals got embarrassed and walked out of the restaurant. A collection plate was passed around to collect money to pay for my dinner and drink. I was hauled in irons to the Santa Clara County Jail.
I got my legal paperwork. I was facing 18 months in jail after being hauled from San Jose to Houston. I had one of the worse weekends of my life.
On Monday morning I was taken to the US District Court for my first court appearance. I was put in a holding cell with other prisoners. Then a miracle happened. The Chinese-American US Marshal named Wayne who had led the team of six who had arrested me appeared at the holding cell.
I was taken to his office. He said the following:"Jack I had you under surveillance for several weeks. You weren't breaking any laws or doing anything bad. I couldn't see why I had to arrest you.My boss saw things different. All six of us feel bad about this. We have found you a lawyer."
Wayne escorted me to a visiting room. I was introduced to a tall and distinguished looking man name Nicholas Humy. He had once been a literature instructor at my college Tulane. He was also one of the finest Federal criminal defense attorneys in the San Francisco Bay area.
Nicholas took over my case with the goal of getting it heard in San Jose where I would get far less jail time. He pulled off this miracle.I ended up with a six-month jail sentence. I started in a county jail with some dangerous inmates. I ended up in Los Angeles at a low-security facility.
My release date was March 10, 1999. On the morning of my release, I read my Bible passage for the day. The words were: "Go home to your friends and tell them of the gifts that God has given you."
Before I start here let me add a couple of points to the story. In 1990 I obtained a US passport and transposed the last two digits of my Social Security number on the passport application. When I came to California in 1996, I absconded from two years of probation that I still owed in Houston.
From 1994 to my arrival in San Francisco I researched and started to write the life story of a Brasilian drug dealer named Paul Lir Alexander. While engaging in drug dealing he was an Israeli Mossad agent and on the CIA payroll to the tune of $1,000,000 US per year. He had substantial evidence of CIA involvement in drug dealing.
Around six in the evening one week night, the phone rang in my room. I answered. A man introduced himself and told me that he was a lawyer. His words were: "I work with a man named Oliver. He's not a bright guy. But he's made a lot of money in the movie business." I froze and knew immediately that he was talking about the film maker Oliver Stone. This lawyer knew all about Paul Alexander. We agreed to meet in his office in Oakland at nine the next morning.
I rode my bike to the meeting. My world was changing again. A serious movie producer was looking at my material. This could be my ticket out of poverty.
I was living off my severance pay. I was renting a room in a luxury home from a woman who was wealthy and had a romantic interest in me. I had no romantic interest in her. She got bitter and angry. She served me with an eviction notice. I could have fought her in court for a couple of months. But I was a wanted man. I could not afford the attention. I loaded a lot of my property in my car and fled to San Jose. I found myself back in the homeless shelter. I would sleep at different churches each night.
On September 11, 1998 at five in the afternoon I was eating dinner at the Crown Plaza Mexican Restaurant in San Jose,California. I had my dinner and Margarita on the table. A man came up to me and asked me: "Are you Jack?" The next thing I knew I was thrown to the floor and handcuffed. Six heavily-armed US Marshals surrounded me.
It was Happy Hour. The restaurant was full of customers. One of them laughed and said the the US Marshals: "You mean it takes six of you to arrest one harmless old man?" Three of the US Marshals got embarrassed and walked out of the restaurant. A collection plate was passed around to collect money to pay for my dinner and drink. I was hauled in irons to the Santa Clara County Jail.
I got my legal paperwork. I was facing 18 months in jail after being hauled from San Jose to Houston. I had one of the worse weekends of my life.
On Monday morning I was taken to the US District Court for my first court appearance. I was put in a holding cell with other prisoners. Then a miracle happened. The Chinese-American US Marshal named Wayne who had led the team of six who had arrested me appeared at the holding cell.
I was taken to his office. He said the following:"Jack I had you under surveillance for several weeks. You weren't breaking any laws or doing anything bad. I couldn't see why I had to arrest you.My boss saw things different. All six of us feel bad about this. We have found you a lawyer."
Wayne escorted me to a visiting room. I was introduced to a tall and distinguished looking man name Nicholas Humy. He had once been a literature instructor at my college Tulane. He was also one of the finest Federal criminal defense attorneys in the San Francisco Bay area.
Nicholas took over my case with the goal of getting it heard in San Jose where I would get far less jail time. He pulled off this miracle.I ended up with a six-month jail sentence. I started in a county jail with some dangerous inmates. I ended up in Los Angeles at a low-security facility.
My release date was March 10, 1999. On the morning of my release, I read my Bible passage for the day. The words were: "Go home to your friends and tell them of the gifts that God has given you."
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