My Personal Journal

This will be my last blog on the subject of Ron's incarceration and our journey since his release, on July 27, 2011. The journey is never over, as recovery from any traumatic incident is always ongoing, but we are doing so well that what I have to say is probably boring. So, I will move on to my own surgery, which took place on July 9, and write a bit about my recovery. Surgery of one sort or another is something we all face eventually, so my fears and apprehensions may be relevant to many of you.We were sitting in the movies several weeks ago watching Jersey Boys (loved it), when Ron said to me that his PO popped into his mind because it was a Friday. Rather than get the typical stomach ache that ordinarily went with any thought or correspondence with her, he immediately dismissed it, realizing that she was no longer part of his life. The freedom that he enjoys most is hard to verbalize. I guess it's just knowing that at anytime we can take off for Dana Point to play bridge (something we haven't been able to do for years), meet our family in Orange County for dinner without having to plan weeks in advance, or just take off and drive to Palm Springs, or Phoenix, or wherever we want. You can't imagine what that feels like until it is taken away from you. The next best thing that Ron appreciates is not having to be accountable to someone every month for financial matters. I think the lack of no longer having to report is saving him many hours every month.Still, hardly a week goes by that something doesn't remind him of the past dozen years. He sees someone that reminds him of what he's gone through, hears about an old friend or client, or remembers an incident that brings back painful memories. He still struggles emotionally with the effect incarceration and recovery has had on his family, especially our children. Shame and embarrassment are what he thinks his children have felt for these years, but he also believes they are proud of him, and how he has responded to adversity. He recently reconnected with a longtime friend/client of his, and is pleased about that. He tries everyday to make his family proud, and I think he's doing a great job. I have written more than 110 blogs titled "My Personal Journal," so if you're a new reader or are curious about all we've been through, you can go back through the archives and check them out. I've enjoyed writing them. They've helped me a lot, especially the ones I wrote weekly for the 19 months Ron was incarcerated. Now, it's on to my current journey: surgery and recovery. I'll keep you posted.

My Personal Journal

There has been a lot of coverage lately of the prison system. Frontline recently had a big story on the prison system, and there have been various other stories that have hopefully educated those that know little about it. Most stories have focused on the long sentences being served for minor drug offenses. Some stories deal with the financial reasons that so many men and women are in jail. Prisons are big business, and many prisons have been privatized. The more men and women incarcerated, the more money the private enterprises make.One aspect that is not talked about much is the division of inmates, by race. This was one aspect of prison that Ron was not expecting. During his first week at Taft, he sat down for dinner at a table with four African Americans. As soon as he pulled out his chair, the four men asked him if he knew what he was doing. He was not supposed to sit there, but was supposed to stay with the "whites." He did not move, and some of the African American inmates became his closest friends. In the state system you often hear about the "white prison gangs" to which most whites that are in for a long time must join. In the state system it's a matter of survival, of protection. At Taft, men divided themselves by race, religion, and education. There were three TV rooms. One was for the black inmates, one for the brown, and one for everyone else. The Jews also seemed to stick together, as did the Mormons. The doctors, most of them Asian, also stuck together. I find it interesting how in the larger society we want everyone to get along, integrate, accept one another, but in prison there is massive segregation.Among Ron's bunk makes in the 19 months he was a Taft were a big hunk of a man originally from Pasadena (in for drugs), a farm worker from Bakersfield (in for drugs), a Muslim man from Stockton (white collar)and a man from San Juan Capistrano (white collar). He got to experience all kinds, all races, all religions, but when they left their sleeping room, they segregated. Lucky Ron was in a federal prison where violence is unheard of, because he broke the color barriers all the time. He spent time tutoring Hispanic young men in accounting, he watched football and basketball with the blacks, and he had interesting intellectual discussions with the doctors, lawyers, judges, and mayors. Yes, prison is a cross section of life on the outside in just about every way.

My Personal Journal

Friday, May 23, was one of our happiest days in the last decade. Around 4pm Ron received a phone call from his probation officer. She was calling to tell him that since he had been a model citizen and had been compliant in every way for the past 2 1/2 years, he was for all intents and purposes, finished with probation. Ron was stunned. He had heard of people being released early from probation, but never when there was a monetary restitution due. He is officially still on probation until October 8, but he no longer has to do lengthy monthly reports, itemizing his wages and explaining how he spends his money. He no longer has to request permission to travel. He can go anywhere in the U.S. whenever he wants, for up to a month at a time. Foreign travel will have to wait until after October 8, but that's ok. Just to be free to go to LA to see David umpire a college game, visit our grandchildren, my mother, or a client, without having to report to someone, is a big deal. Also on our agenda is a trip to Colorado to see Phil, Deborah, Lennon and Elsa. Ron hasn't been there in years, and summer is the perfect time for us to visit.

In the mean time I have scheduled knee replacement surgery for July 9. We will have to work around that date, as I won't be able to travel for several weeks after surgery. More about me at another time. This is a time for celebration. None of us can ever really know how Ron feels tonight. Not having to look over your head, wait for a phone call from probation asking you to pay more money, being told that you should move to a cheaper area because you are paying too much rent, are all things that will not happen anymore. A big weight has been lifted from Ron's shoulders, and mine as well. All I can say is that tonight Ron is all smiles. He's the happiest I've seen him in a long time, and for good reason. Knowing him, he's busy planning for the future. That's just the way he is.

My Personal Journal

I don't know if I'll ever get it. Maybe now, after our kids wanted to meet us in Irvine for lunch, and Ron and me had a long talk, I might finally get it. What IT is that I haven't gotten until just now is how stressful certain parts of probation have been for Ron. The mere thought of having to go through the process of requesting permission to leave the jurisdiction is painful. An ache in Ron's stomach, followed by several sleepless nights, wondering why his probation officer hasn't answered him immediately, followed by stress until he finally hears from her, or more likely, has to send another request or two to her. It's not a complicated process, and in the two years and seven months since Ron's release, she's never said "no" to a request, but that doesn't lessen the anxiety. I have not realized all this time the stress this simple event was causing. It's partly Ron's fault for not explaining to me long ago the anxiety he goes through each time he makes a request.

It seems perfectly rational for Ron NOT to feel any of these feelings, based on what's happened in the past, but he still does. As his friend Richard tells him, this is something that will probably never go away. Ron can understand intellectually that his thoughts are not rational, but that doesn't diminish the feelings he has.

I remember years ago when my kids were in high school. They had a curfew of 11:30. They might call and say they were on their way home, but would arrive later than expected. Those minutes that they were late were terribly stressful. I would get a stomach ache, anxiety would follow, as I would create a scenario in my mind as to what had happened. Dead in the street, car accident, or some other craziness would run through my mind. I have no idea why I thought any of this, as nothing bad had ever happened, but I couldn't stop the feelings. It's similar to what Ron is going through, and all I can say is this stress will stop on October 8 when he has no more dealings with a probation officer.

Knowing Ron, he will find something else to worry about, as that is his nature. I don't think one can change their nature. I'll have to ask Richard about that.

My Personal Journal

It's April already. Time to get you get you caught up on our progress. This past month has been a great month, as it not only brings us closer to early October, when Ron's probation will be over (yippee), but it also brings Ron closer to feeling 100%. I'm thinking that maybe that's why they make probation three years. Does it take everyone three years to feel whole again? It certainly is taking Ron that long. He said to me the other day that he feels so confident, so happy, so glad to be alive. It's tax time, and Ron has been busy working for Brian, in addition to the numerous new tax clients he has gotten on his own. It's so great to see him working again at something he's good at and loves. I am so proud of him!

One of the requirements of probation is to produce a report every month, that shows every financial transaction you have made. Income must be accounted for and all expenses must be itemized. It shows the probation department that you are living within your means. Although Ron was always a planner and a budgeter, this experience has heightened that ability. However, I do think he'll be happy to stop doing it come October.

I continue to do my mystery shopping and some travel agent work, and between the two of us, we are making it. Will Ron ever have the kind of business he had before? No, and he doesn't want it. The pressure of such a practice was horrible for him, for me and for our kids. He hopes to continue to increase his business to a comfortable level, where he can work without stress. That is the key. Right now life is good for us. We take trips to Los Angeles to see my mom and our children and grandchildren every month, and plan for the future to go see Phil and Deborah in Colorado. It's been a long time since we've traveled together, and a trip to Boulder will be one of the first things we do, when we can.

My Personal Journal

It's that time of the month again, the first of the month, when I try to update you on my thoughts and feelings and memories about our journey since the government first entered our lives in a big way, about 12 years ago. This is a great month, with the celebration of our 44th anniversary on March 8, and the realization that on that same day, Ron has exactly 7 more months of supervised release. Yippee.

Our friend Richard had to drive to Bakersfield last week for a training seminar. He asked me how long the drive was, as after 80 trips to Taft, I knew exactly how long it took, which route to take, and what time to go. His questions also brought back a lot of memories of my drives there. I told him you had to be careful of ice on the road in winter, as the temperature in the grapevine can get down to freezing. There are even times when you need chains to get over the hill, but with the drought we've had this year, that is not the case. I remembered the Truck and Travel Stop at the bottom of the grapevine that I stopped at almost every week. There was a gas station, a Subway, another fast food restaurant that I can't remember, and a big store. I would stop for coffee and a snack sometimes, before driving the last 20 minutes to see Ron. The best thing I can say about Bakersfield is that Linda and Rod used to live there (they moved back to Washington after their son Corey was released) and that I got to visit them and overnight at their house several times while Ron was at Taft.

All this talk of Bakersfield and Taft brought up a lot of memories for Ron, too. He said he really hadn't thought much about the camp much in a very long time, but he did the night we talked to Richard. He remembered that personal hygiene was of utmost importance to the inmates at Taft, and they had their own way of making sure everyone was clean. Here's what they did. Washing one's hands after using the toilet was mandatory (prisoners set of rules)and here's what happened to those that didn't wash their hands. First, they were talked to. Next, someone poured a bucket or cup of water over them at mail call. This was done to embarrass them. Finally, if they still didn't wash their hands, they found a cup of urine poured on their bed. I guess after that they would get the message.

There was a local dog named Sprocket, a Jack Russell, that came into the prison often, and Ron just loved him. He would find Sprocket curled up on his bed sleeping, and it was a little reminder of home. Most of the inmates thought it was terrible that he allowed a dirty dog to lie on his bed. So many of the men there were clean freaks, but I think that was just because with so many men in close proximity they were worried about disease. I doubt if they were all so clean when they left Taft.

It's funny how one conversation can trigger so many memories. For myself, the conversation with Richard reminded me of the drive, the stops I made, the cold, the hot, the fruit pickers I saw along the way, the beautiful trees loaded with blossoms in March, and the long days. For Ron, the same conversation brought back memories of the camp he was in for 19 months, and some of the crazy rules. Seven months left to go.

My Personal Journal

It's the beginning of the month, and time to write the blog that I seem to find harder and harder to write. It has now been 31 months since Ron was released from Taft, so long ago. Yet, the effects of a felony conviction are life changing and long lasting. For example, Ron is applying for a new passport, as travel is hopefully in our future. Since he turned in his passport to federal authorities in 2008, it was neither lost or stolen, the two possible boxes on the passport application. There is no box for "destroyed by the federal government." So after several hours on the phone, I found out how to proceed. It's just that there seem to be roadblocks at every turn. I finally have the passport issue resolved.

Several weeks ago new rules were implemented at Costco, which required Ron to stand for his entire 5 hour shift. He simply can't do that, with neuropathy from diabetes. He was forced to quit his air conditioning job at Costco, one that we depended on for additional income. But, out of something negative, some good has come. Ron has gotten several new tax clients, and a potential monthly account. This should make up for what he lost in the air conditioning job. These situations create stress, and we all know about the negative effects of stress on the body, both physically and mentally.

The Superbowl was yesterday, and on Friday night, Ron was thinking about where he was three years ago during the Superbowl. He remembers vividly the excitement and anticipation of the big game from the inmates at Taft. It was the highlight of the first part of any year. Football was what the men lived for. Anyway, Ron was feeling very melancholy about the men he knew that were still in prison. Big Dave, Ron's Bunkie for much of the time he was at Taft, a brute of a man, as gentle as could be, but a meth user and distributor who could not stop, probably has 5 more years. David, an ultra conservative Jew serving a 25 year sentence (2 years to go)for a complicated case involving importing illegal drugs in a load of bricks, being punished by the feds for going to trial and getting an enhanced sentence, will soon be home. His wife and grown daughter from Los Angeles visit him every weekend. Mark, a real estate developer from Beverly Hills who was involved in mortgage fraud of some sort, who, after three weeks at Taft, was served with divorce papers and ignored by his daughter because of what he did. I knew all these people too, and could feel his pain. Although Ron has moved on, and rarely thinks about the men he left behind or the ones that have been released, certain events, like the Superbowl, trigger emotions and memories.

2014 is the year that Ron's probation will be over (October 8, but who's counting?)and he will be finished doing tedious monthly reports for the probation department. He finished January's report last night, and I reminded him he only has 8 more to do! Then no one will tell him whether or not he can go to Los Angeles to visit his children, or go to Orange County for dinner, and no one will tell him how much to spend for rent, and how to spend his money. What a beautiful feeling.

My Personal Journal

At 6:45am on an early December morning, I left the house to take Pepper for a morning walk, and was greeted by a friendly process server, looking to serve Ron with a subpoena. You would think after 13 years it would be over, but it's not. There is a lawsuit by some victims against a bank, and although Ron is not involved in the case, he has knowledge of what happened. He had met with the attorneys the month before, and had been assured he would not be called to testify. Well, someone didn't get that memo, and he received an early morning subpoena that ruined his day, and was yet another reminder that it's not over until it's over.

Things have been straightened out now. The law firm that subpoenaed Ron apologized profusely. No subpoena was supposed to be sent. Someone screwed up. Getting the deposition reminded us again of how many lives are effected by a single act. Without getting into Ron's case, I often think how many lives were changed because of this case. Not only did it effect hundreds of people personally, but it effected decades long friendships and family relationships.

We recently went to Phoenix to visit Ron's friends Phil and Ellen, both of whom he has known for 58 years. Phil had some business to discuss with Ron, and Ron had another client to see. Prior to our trip, Ron thought a lot about being in the same city with the man who had caused him so much grief over the last decade. The question he kept asking himself was, "I wonder who he's scamming now." The answer is, "Probably someone."

Of course Ron never went to see the man, never would, but just knowing that he would be several miles away from him, made Ron a little uncomfortable. We live far away from Los Angeles, where all Ron's troubles started and ended. We have a wonderful life in San Diego, with new friends and where Ron's past problems are pretty much in the past. Ron's partner Jack chose to stay in Los Angeles, where I guess he has made a life for himself. I think that would be difficult, with people and places as constant reminders, but I guess it has worked for him.

It's easy for people to say to Ron, "It's over, just move on." It's not that easy. The process of being pursued by the government, threatened and having your family threatened, and ultimately incarceration, changes you. When people know your history, many look at you differently. People are not lining up to give felons a second chance, unless you have a famous name. Then you will get your book deal or another chance at what you were previously doing. (Michael Vick, Martha Stewart). So everyday you are reminded of what you've been through, and at some point, it wears you down. I marvel at how Ron keeps a positive attitude. He just got an opportunity to do more umpiring in Carlsbad and La Costa. He's happy for that opportunity. He just got a new tax client, too. Not much, but each little bit builds his confidence. I remember what his criminal lawyer told him when he was first charged. He said that once you're in the system, you in for life, and it will change your life forever, because you're never getting out. He was right.

My Personal Journal

I'm writing this blog on Thanksgiving Day, and feeling I have so much to be thankful for. Yesterday, the day before Thanksgiving, we went to Los Angeles to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah, and Thanksgiving. David and Tracy were there with freshly baked pecan and chocolate pumpkin pies for dessert, Beth, Brian, Spencer and Ryan were there with all their energy, Ken, Dey and Brooke (Tracy's brother and family) were there, Matt (Tracy's other brother)was there, and Barbara (Tracy's mom) was there, laryngitis and all. We had a wonderful time. The three kids ran and jumped and played like three year olds, and we all ate. Oh, did we eat. Mom, along with assistance from Chayo, had made a delicious Thanksgiving dinner which we enjoyed, just after lighting the Hanukkah candles. Our family has never done things in the traditional way, but it works for us. I thought yesterday afternoon about all the craziness in the world, all the heartbreak that some families experience, and despite all we've been through, felt we're pretty lucky. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Ron has a lifelong friend Phil, who lives in Phoenix. Ron has an opportunity to potentially do some work for Phil, but it requires a trip to Phoenix to look at the business and discuss things face to face. We planned to drive there in December to check it out, so Ron put in his a request to his PO. She has been very reasonable and more than fair throughout this whole experience, always allowing us to travel to LA to see family. An out of state request was something new, and we were a little nervous about her response. Although the goal is to do whatever it takes to help Ron get work, we weren't sure what her reaction to a road trip to Phoenix would be. We were pleasantly surprised. She was extremely thorough, as she called Phil and grilled him on the purpose of the trip. In the end she approved Ron's travel, and we'll be off to Phoenix for a few days in December. It doesn't sound like much to all you travelers out there, but this will be Ron's first trip to anywhere but Los Angeles in over 6 years!

We talked about why Ron was so anxious about getting or not getting approval for our trip to Phoenix. I think it all has to do with control. Ron kept saying that if the PO said "NO," it would be no big deal, but I don't think he really felt that way. If she said no, that would be the end of it. There is no trying to convince her otherwise. It would just be another example of the control the government holds over you long after incarceration is complete. It reminds me again of something a therapist said to Ron many years ago when he first faced his problems with the government. She said that most of the things you worry about never come to pass. She was right then, and she was right again. I remember that all the time when a bad situation comes along. Your worst thoughts rarely materialize.

I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving and took a few minutes to think about all you have to be grateful for. Sometimes we get so caught up in life that we forget this. It's a good time of year to remember.>p>

My Personal Journal

I'm finding it more and more difficult to write my once a month personal journal. Time has definitely lessened the hurt of Ron's incarceration for him and for me. Most of the men he befriended at Taft have gone home and moved on with their lives. All the talk in prison about getting together later on rarely materializes. When Ron first came home he wrote, through me, to friends that were still there, but over time, he stopped. Last week Corey was released after serving 9 years of a 12 1/2 year sentence for a non violent (first offence)marijuana conviction. He is now 37 years old and trying to pick up the pieces of his life. I became very friendly with his parents, Linda and Rod, whom I have written about before. I spent a memorable Christmas with them in Bakersfield, and although they have moved back to Spokane, I still feel very close to them. When I told Ron about Corey's release he was very happy, but quickly moved on to another subject. Hearing about prison is just not something he's interested in. On the other hand, Michael Santos, who was released in August of 2012 after serving 26 years of 40+sentence, also for drugs, has made it his life's work to reform the prison system and keep at risk youth from going down the wrong path. I became very close with Michael's wife Carole the first summer Ron was at Taft. We drove to Taft from LA every Friday for several months, and learned a lot about each other during our drives. Michael is now a teacher at San Francisco State University in the criminology department, among other things. He's a writer, motivational speaker and all around great guy who truly turned his life around. You can check his website for more information on his amazing story. Most men, Ron included, want to move as far away from the prison system as possible. Michael chose a different path, and it has led him to fulfilling career. Last night we had dinner with Laura and Richard. Richard is a forensic psychiatrist, who has worked with prisoners over the course of his career. We always hear the negatives about the prison system, but he told us about a program that sounds very productive. Apparently prisoners who are deemed incapable of standing trial because of mental incompetence, linger in jail, rather than a mental hospital for years sometimes. They get limited psychological services and little chance of becoming competent. However, there is a program in Riverside and San Bernardino, where prisoners who are incompetent, are given a chance to get the psych services they need and a chance to get better. He is going to check out this program soon, and I will tell you more when I hear from him. Well, that's all I have for now. Life moves on, we are healthy, we are busy, and we are happy. We talk often about the future and the possibility of travel. Ron has not been out of Southern California in six years, except for the wedding of Phil and Deborah in Colorado. He's ready to go somewhere, anywhere. It will all happen soon.

My Personal Journal

Another month has rolled by, and Ron is that much closer to living life without looking over his shoulder. (366 days to be precise). I should say that at this point he doesn't feel he has much restriction because he has settled into a comfortable life in San Diego that doesn't require going anywhere else. However, I know he will be so much happier when he doesn't have to account to anyone for a trip to LA or Newport Beach. Having to do that is a minor inconvenience, but it's a constant reminder of his limitations. Won't it be grand to go to Colorado to see Phil and family, LA to see David and Tracy, Brian and family, and mom, on the spur of the moment? How about a trip for the two of us? I can't wait to go somewhere together. Our first trip may be in the fall or winter of 2014. Ron wants to go to Chicago to see the Bears play, and spend a few days in his hometown. That sounds fantastic to me. I'm ready. From time to time I get phone calls from people Ron met at Taft. I got a phone call from Ron's closest friend at Taft around the Jewish Holidays, and when I repeated the conversation to Ron, he wasn't terribly interested. He was happy to hear that this man is doing well, but he just wasn't interested in reconnecting, even if he could. (he can reconnect with anyone after probation is over) Prison friends are just that. They fill a need while you are incarcerated, and after that most inmates move on. Ron enjoys telling stories to new friends about his experiences at Taft, yet he has moved on. Thank goodness. He and I both feel that rehashing the past is not healthy. I may be over generalizing, but I think the men who want to keep in touch with "prison friends" have not put the past behind them. They may not have a strong support system, may not have a job, may be stuck in a stagnant life that's not going anywhere, so they want to stay connected with people from prison that accepted them and helped them stay sane. There are very few men Ron met at Taft that he would ever have befriended on the outside, so he feels, as I do, it is best to move forward and remember them as friends at a time when they needed each other.

My Personal Journal

Things are going better than expected, as we approach the one year countdown. Ron will be released from all supervision on October 8, 2014. He was released from Taft on July 27, 2011, so you might wonder why, with three years of supervised release, he is not finished until October 8. That is because from July 27-October 8 he was in a half way house, and under different supervision. When he finally came home, on October 8, he became the responsibility of the department of probation. In the meantime, Ron has been left pretty much alone, goes about his business, and no one bothers him. The inconvenience is not being able to travel, and having to get permission for any travel out of San Diego County, and frankly, for being accountable to someone for what you spend your money on, how much you work and how much you earn. It's something he's learned to live with, and not complain. Complaining is something he NEVER does. When he hears about this friend going on a wonderful trip, or that someone is off to visit grandchildren, he just listens, but never complains. We have both learned to enjoy the relatively simple life we have, enjoy our small circle of friends, and appreciate what we have and where we live. If health permits, we will have time to travel in the future, to go to Colorado to see our grandchildren, or to LA to see our other grandchildren (and their parents), David and Tracy, and mom, whenever we want. Last month I told you that things from Ron's 19 months at Taft surface occasionally and remind him of that time. There were a number of unwritten rules that every inmate learns quickly and follows completely. Here are some of those rules: 1. First and foremost, were the shower rules. Privacy was of utmost concern. Ron often described the bathroom and shower area as like that of a nice health club. The difference was, that no one ever walked around naked, went to the showers naked, or looked at another man. This was not done. Although they had a row of double showers, only the showers on one side were used. The other side was closed off, so that when you showered you had complete privacy. When leaving the shower, always look down. That was the rule. 2. Respect each person's space. This refers to waiting in line, and not crowding, getting really close to each other. This was of great importance, and to this day, when we're waiting in line for something and people start pushing and getting really close, Ron feels extremely uncomfortable. 3. The TV room. This was where fights, if any occurred, would happen. Control of the TV channels was by seniority, so in the 19 months Ron was there he never chose the program. Thus, he had to endure Swamp People, Jerry Springer and other enlightening shows. The men that had been at Taft the longest controlled the TV's. Seating was also by seniority. Those who were there the longest sat up front. Each inmate brought in their own chair for watching TV and newer inmates sat in the back. There were also two other rooms (other than the main room) for watching. These were called the black room and the brown room. One room was for Hispanic inmates, one was for black inmates. Ron was friendly with everyone, and was often invited to watch TV in the black room. It was by invitation only. I don't know what the Asians, Hawaiians, and Caucasians did. I guess they just used the main room. 4. While sitting at dinner, if you wanted the salt that was across the table or made you reach across someone else, you must ask for someone to pass the salt. The same thing applied to handing something to someone, like a newspaper. If you were obstructing someone else while reaching for it, you would always ask to have it passed to you. Their rules were all about respect. These men have a need to feel respected, as they aren't respected by the people that work in the prison. It's their way of keeping a bit of dignity. Also, seniority is the basis on which you get the best seat in the TV room and the best bunk location. Ron never got a great seat for TV or a great bunk location. Thank goodness he wasn't there long enough to earn that.

My Personal Journal

Last week Ron celebrated two years of freedom. It was on July 27, 2011, that he was released from Taft, after serving 19 months. Initially there was great anticipation, great excitement, and great expectation about what was to come. A coming home party, lots of phone calls and visits from well wishers for the first few weeks, and then reality set in. No one will hire you when they do a background check on you, some people that were friends before Taft, are still friends, but from afar. Others don't understand what you've been through, and if your behavior is unusual because something sets you off, they give up on you. But others embrace you and realize how hard life is after incarceration. There are plenty of new friends too, and we learn to cherish all friendships, old and new. Since Ron's been home, one of my jobs has been "Chief Cheerleader." Here's what I mean. For the past 40 years Ron has had many important jobs, been well respected and always was the "go to" man when something had to be done. Since he has returned from Taft, getting back his confidence has been his biggest obstacle. We were discussing this the other day, and he was commenting on how many jobs he had applied for (maybe 50) and how many he had gotten a call back from (0). He fell into his air conditioning job purely by accident. Our computer expert Kevin, was here and mentioned that he worked part time selling air conditioning. I said, "Ron could do that." Kevin recommended him for the job, and he's been working there for over a year. His other work, umpiring, was something he was doing before he went to Taft, and luckily they took him back. A few small accounting jobs have come his way, but really, no one wants to hire a felon. So, my job is to try to boost his confidence and encourage him to keep trying. Overall, life is good. We are both healthy and very happy with each other. The roadblocks Ron faces in getting work are difficult to get by, but with perserverance perhaps something will turn up. I have always thought of America as the land of second chances. I look at politicians, actors and athletes that do reprehensible things and are soon back at work. If you're famous and do something wrong, you are soon forgiven and given another chance. If you're not famous, a different standard applies. I was watching CNN a few days ago, and listened to Marion Barry (former politician from Washington, D.C.) talk about second chances, referring specifically to Andrew Weiner and Bob Filner. If they weren't in the spotlight, you'd never hear from them again. I have always likened our lives to a roller coaster ride. Our life has been filled with lots of ups and downs, twists and turns, highs and lows. We are still chugging our way up a steep incline, and although the ride is slow, it is a gratifying ride, a journey we're both happy to be on. I just decided I'm changing my life analogy from roller coaster to stock market chart. Look at a stock market chart and tell me that isn't a chart of how life goes. Each day has highs and lows, and most of the time the chart is trending upward. Sometimes, however, life takes a bad turn and you spiral down. Ron's life is on an uptick. Our new friend Richard was over last week and Ron was lamenting the fact that he had lost 19 months of his life to incarceration. He and Richard both said the same thing, "Ron will just have to live 19 months longer." (to make up for lost time). Next month I plan to tell you a few of the little unwritten rules that prisoners have, that become so much a habit that after they're home, they still surface. This is what I meant by unusual behavior, and everyone doesn't know or understand that they were caused by incarceration. For right now, let me tell you briefly about Steve Czifra. Steve Czifra was a young man when he was arrested for drug use and distribution, and received an 8 year sentence. While incarcerated, he spit on a guard, and was given an additional 4 years to his sentence, and 4 years of his sentence was to be served in solitary confinement. He is out of prison now, is 36 years old, and a student at UCBerkley. He was on the Chris Hays show "ALL IN" last week. He is working toward abolishing solitary confinement, as inhumane. He talks about his time in prison, and likens his current condition to PTSD. He never touched another human being for 4 years, his sleep patterns were disrupted, he lacked physical or mental stimulation, and was completely dependant on guards for food. That does something to the psyche. He was saying that learning is so difficult for him now. Whereas normal people read a book once, he has to read things 2-3 times to get the meaning. His mind wanders, he can't focus. It must be very frustrating. He is remarkable, and I hope he can make a difference, because I too, feel for most inmates, solitary is not called for. So much to say on the subject of prison reform, but I'll leave that for another time.

My Personal Journey

It's the first of the month, and time for another update on our journey since Ron's release from Taft almost 23 months ago. Time is flying by, and my 19 months without Ron seems in the distant past. Ron's PO stops by occasionally (that's her job), as she did about a week ago. Her attitude toward Ron has changed so much. She has lightened up, and really tries to be helping him. She is going to help him find out how to get a new passport. She also has interest in his work and how everything is going. Ron no longer thinks of Fridays as the day the PO might stop by. There's no stress associated with her visit. I got an e-mail from a woman I met several years ago named Toni. Her husaband was an acquaintance of Ron's (actually they just had a mutual friend) who was in a lot of trouble and was facing a very long prison term. Ron and I met with him prior to Ron's incarceration, and aferwards, I continued to meet with Toni and her husband while he was going through the sentencing stage of his case. In addition to a long prison term, Larry did not have a supportive family (kids were very angry) and his wife Toni was having a hard time emotionally. Anyway, I met with them every few months for about a year, until he was finally sentenced. He got a 10 1/2 year sentence, and is now at Terminal Island (in Long Beach). She e-mailed me to let me know how things were going. She has settled in to a new apartment in Sherman Oaks, and goes to visit her husband twice a week. He is doing fine, and plans to spend the rest of his sentence at Terminal Island, rather than transfer to a camp. The point of my telling you about the e-mail from Toni is that it brings up a lot of old feelings and experiences for both me and Ron. One of the things we both feel is great empathy for the men that are still incarcerated and their families that deal with it on a daily basis. It's hard to understand what it's like unless you've been there. I can tell you all the stories in the world, but you won't truly understand the loneliness in the middle of the night, the helplessness when you can't get something done or the sadness you feel when leaving a visit, unless you've been there. I cannot ever understand what Ron went through either. It's funny. As time passes, things come up in daily life that remind him of Taft, things he never told me about before. We were in line somewhere recently, and Ron got very uncomfortable. The people were extremely close to each other, and Ron had to step out of line and let me stand there. Why? He told me later that in prison, one important rule is to respect a person's space. Do not get too close, in their face, or stand too close in line. This is an unwritten law. Our experience in line recently reminded him of this. Our son David married his beautiful bride Tracy on June 1 in the garden at UCLA Faculty Center. What a wonderful beginning for them, to be surrounded by family and friends in a beautiful setting, at the start of summer. As testament to David's strong friendships, he had friends attend his wedding from New York, Oklahoma, Colorado, Columbia (South America) and Australia. What a reunion it was for his college friends from the University of Denver. David and Tracy planned most of the wedding themselves, and things went off without a hitch. Great job, guys. I wish them a long, happy and healthy life together. It was great to see all my sons, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren together this weekend. I wish it could happen more often. So, all the kids are married (to wonderful women I might add), my mom is in good health, my sons are all happy and doing well in their careers, my husband is working hard at his many jobs, and I try to pull my weight, between travel agent work and mystery shopping. As the distance between Ron and Taft grows, the memories fade, and a happy, healthy Ron has emerged. Things are so good right now. What am I going to worry about?

My Personal Journal

I recently read a story in the newspaper about a man who was held in solitary in a New Mexico jail for 22 months. During this time his physical and mental health deterioriated, and numerous pleas to see a doctor, lawyer, judge, anyone, were disregarded. He ended up getting a $15 million settlement from the county, but that will not bring back the time he lost or the damage that was done to him. (he was waiting for a hearing). This reminds me of Ron's first 2 weeks at Taft, and for those of you who either didn't know me then or don't remember what happened to him, I will tell you here and now. Of all the things Ron is, at the top of the list is Planner. He always prepares for every situation, so when planning for incarceration he made sure that all his ducks were in a row. The most important thing, he'd been told, was to have your paperwork in order, your orders from the judge, your medical papers, etc. Our lawyers assured us that everything was handled, and that upon arriving at Taft, after a day of filling out more forms, he would be transferred to the camp. Not so. It was almost 2 weeks before Ron was finally transferred to the camp, and no matter how he tried, he could not find out what had gone wrong. They threw him in a cell (SHU-Security Housing Unit) by himself where he remained for almost 2 weeks. He had no idea what was happening, nor did I. I expected to hear from him by Thursday. (I had dropped him off on Monday). He came to Taft with money for the commissary and phone, so I knew it wasn't that he didn't have any money. I couldn't figure it out, and as the days went by, I got more and more concerned. I called Taft, and of course they could tell me nothing. I called my attorney, and she couldn't do anything either. She said to just wait, that they'd had people who'd gone to prison and had not been heard from for several weeks. Easy for her to say. She never told me that beforehand, and she assured us that the transition would be smooth. Apparently because Ron arrived on the Martin Luther King holiday, they were short staffed, but that still doesn't explain the 2 week delay. Fortunately an orderly took pity on him, and gave him paper and pencil to write me a letter, and got him a stamp. After about a week, I got a letter telling me that he was in solitary, had no idea why, and was getting more frantic by the day. I got 2 more letters from him while he was in solitary (I can never thank that orderly properly for giving him paper, pencil and mailing his letter), and each one sounded more desperate than the last. He was in the cell for 23 hours a day, out for an hour of exercise only. They would wake him up at 3am to give him breakfast. It was so dark he couldn't see what he was eating. He was sleeping on a metal frame, with no mattress. No one came to tell him what was going on. He was feeling desperate. He would sing to himself, recite poetry, read if they gave him something to read, and think. Finally, on day 13 someone came and told him he was moving to the camp. He was never so happy in his life! The guards took him to the camp on a rainy night in January, and when he arrived, he felt he had just checked into the Hilton. People were friendly, helping Ron get settled, get his bearings, and recovering from 2 weeks of hell. To this day we don't know exactly why he was held in solitary for 13 days, and probably never will. I do know that whatever your lawyer tells you may not be true. They know the rules, but when you get to prison, anything can change at anytime. You are no longer in control and if things aren't right, there's really no one to help you. The story about the man from New Mexico reminded me how difficult things can be in prison. I can totally relate to the feeling of helplessness this man in New Mexico felt, as in just 2 short weeks, I could see Ron's mental health quickly deteriorating. The first 2 weeks of the prison experience was definitely the worst. I kept the letters Ron wrote to me at that time, and looking back, I can hear the helplessness in his words. It's a feeling Ron will never forget.

My Personal Journal

It's been more than 19 months since Ron was released from Taft, but the hurt he feels from those that contributed to his incarceration doesn't end. It's easy for people (me included) to say, "just let it go." It's just not that easy. Everyday there are cruel reminders of what Ron's been through. Once we were at a party that one of our son's was at. During the party, and loud enough that a large group of people could hear, one of the men asked Ron if he liked the food at the party better than where he'd been, at Taft. This was a clear attempt to embarass Ron, and it did, even though many people at the party knew where he'd been. The man thought he was being funny with his comment about Taft, but it wasn't received that way. Comments like this make it difficult for Ron to just "let it go." How hard it is to move forward after incarceration depends on your personality. Some people are less confrontational and have an easier time letting things go. Others want to confront those that have wronged them. Some even want to get back at these people. Moving forward is hard when you're still stuck on what someone did 10-15 years ago. How often do you hear about a daughter who can't move forward because she's still blaming her mom for what she did years ago? Ron has moved forward in so many ways. He has a new circle of friends, and probably a better relationship with his children than he's had in years. Yet, he still thinks about a few people from the past that he hasn't been able to make peace with. I don't think he ever will, as he will most likely not speak to them again. Over time the hurt will lessen, and it will become less important for him to know why things happened as they did. Some things in life just don't have any answers.

My Personal Journey

Another month has rolled by, a really great month at that, which leaves 20 more months until Ron's supervised release is over. February was a month full of lots of celebrations, a little sadness and lots of work. The celebrations included my neice Alison's birthday and my birthday. My celebration began on February 20 with a trip to Pizzeria Mozza in Newport Beach and ended with another trip to Newport Beach at the end of the month to meet my mom for lunch. In between there were 2 lunches with friends, and a lovely afternoon and evening with David and Tracy. Of course there was shopping for my birthday present from Ron at Lululemon. What a perfect gift for me. The sadness I refer to was February 2, which would have been my parents 69th anniversary. I guess we always remember those dates. Ron is working hard. It's tax season, so he has some accounting work to do. He loves to be busy. His job at Costco still exists, although for the life of me I can't figure out who buys air conditioning in the dead of winter. Soon he will be able to go back to umpiring. He continues to recover from the November 27 removal of what turned out to be a non malignant mole. After two weeks, when the wound started to get bright red and tender, Ron went to a wound doctor. He has been seeing this man ever since, and the wound is almost closed. In mid February he had a piece of pig intestine implanted into the wound. It was put there to replace the skin that has not yet filled in, and speed healing. We're almost there. One thing that I never focused on was something Ron and I talked about yesterday. Everyday Ron gets up and realizes he is accountable to someone else. If he wants to go to LA he must ask, if he wants to go to Balboa or Newport Beach he must ask, and he needs to have a good reason for going. We take our freedom of choice for granted, but when you're on supervised release, not only the way you spend your money, but where and how you spend your time, is the government's business. In other words, you've always got someone looking over your shoulder. For someone who has spent their professional life helping others to manage their money, it's hard to have this restriction. Ron takes it all in stride, and he has a very respectful relationship with his PO. He trusts that she knows he is doing all he can, and she knows that he's doing his best. We can't ask for more than that. It's hard to imagine a time when we'll be living without supervision.(I say WE because the PO looks at what I'm doing, earning, spending, too). It's been such a long time since Ron has lived without the fear of lawyers, prosecutors or creditors trying to get a piece of him. He feels happy now that all the legal stuff is behind him, and knows that it's just a matter of months before he will be free of any restriction. I never hope for time to pass quickly, because life is too short as it is, but I can't help hoping that the next 20 months pass uneventfully.

My Personal Journal

It's the first week in February, and Ron has been home from Taft for 18 months. We don't talk about that period too much anymore, although both of us think of it. Different experiences remind him of that time than me, but it's always going to be in the back of our minds. Another Friday passed, and Ron did not hear from his PO. That means it's been five months since she's called or visited. This is a good thing. Ron is a low priority for her, and in 20 months she'll be out of the picture. We can hardly wait. In the meantime, we had one of our middle of the night talks last week. We woke up at 3am, couldn't get back to sleep, so we talked. I was telling Ron that Linda and Rod's son Corey, will be released from Lompoc in October. They are all very excited, as we are for him, and hope that everything goes well for him when he gets home. Talking about Taft gets Ron thinking about his 19 months there. Which of his friends are still there? Which have been released, and how is everyone doing? Ron said he couldn't believe how long ago it all seemed. Ron's got a great memory, but struggled to remember the names of some of his closest friends there. The mind is so interesting. It blocks out unhappy memories and people, even though you may try to remember. It's a mechanism our body has for dealing with adversity, I guess. Ron's closest friend at Taft was Richard, the CEO of a public company, due to be released in February, 2013. Although Ron has no plans to contact Richard, he can't and would never violate that rule, he hopes he settles back into life in LA and is happy. There will be so many obstacles in Richard's way, as there were in Ron's. The difference is that Richard doesn't have a wife to help him out. He also doesn't have a job, and this is the most challenging task for anyone returning from federal prison. No one wants to give you a second chance. One funny story we reminised about the other night was about the assistant warden. I liked her very much, and she was somewhat helpful in getting Ron released on time. Anyway, after Ron left, she evidently got herself in a bit of trouble. She was out at a bar in Taft and was drinking and carrying on with one or more ex Taft inmates. Apparently the "affair" with one of them had begun while he was in prison. How they managed to do that is beyond me, but they did. Perhaps she called him into her office, so they could have some private time. This is frowned upon. She was immediately removed from her position, and no one seems to know where she went or what happened. My guess is that she was moved to another facility where no one knew her past. These administrators who are in charge of enforcing the law are breaking laws all the time. Sometime I'll tell you about female guards and the carrying on they did with some of the inmates. I don't think it will surprise you. All in all, things are good. Health is most important, and we both work on that everyday. Work and business is not what we want, but we're always trying. Great mom, children and grandchildren, what more could we want?

The Good Old Days

We all look back on "the good old days," usually with fondness. I recently had a chance to reminise about the 1990's the decade that we were deeply involved in horseracing. The Daily Racing Form, the horseplayers bible, published an article by Bill Christine about the 10 most eclectic silks in racing. Ours were number 4! In the article Bill talked about the many horses we had owned and raced, how we acquired them, how we named them and how we came up with the Cubs logo on our silks. His writing brought that era back to life for me, as I remembered the highs and lows of horseracing, the men and women who came in and out of our life during that time, and the few long relationships that developed. Horseracing is an industry where you're as likely to know the president of a foreign country as you are a homeless man. We knew both. Unfortunately, most of the people involved in racing are only interested in what you can do for them: give them a winner, give them a job, do something for them. Thus, when you get out of the business or fall on far times, most of those people are long gone. So when I think about the good old days, I have both good and bad memories. The friends that have survived our departure from racing, Roger, Alfredo and Angela, and Jose and Renee are true friends. We cherish their friendship. The good old days for me also means stress. There is tremendous stress to win, as feed and vet bills are very expensive. It costs upwards of $3,000 per month to keep a horse in training. That means they must run and earn money every month to pay their way. If they get injured, they still have to eat. We had horses that had to be laid up for a year before returning to racing. The anxiety of the actual race is a huge adrenalin rush. Big race or small race, it's all about winning. We loved our involvement in racing, but looking back on it, I am glad we've moved on. I'm not sure my heart could take it now. Below is the article from the DRF written by Bill Christine. I got a kick out of it, and hopefully you'll enjoy reading it too. 4. Ron Anson Adrian “Cap” Anson was a 19th century star first baseman for the Chicago franchise that became the Cubs. A hundred years later, Ron Anson (no known relation) campaigned a California racing stable noted for silks patterned after a Cubs’ uniform. Anson comes from Chicago’s South Side, which by rights should have made him a White Sox fan. He campaigned mostly claimers, but took shots with horses in Japan and won the Oak Leaf Stakes at Santa Anita with the you-have-to-explain-the-name-of-this-horse Tali’sluckybusride − something to do with Ron’s wife, Susie, who befriended a puppy thrown off a bus and named her Tali (“lucky” in Chinese). The Ansons once won the same race twice on the same day, when their entrymates, Gomezmerize and Onepowerful Bullet, finished in a dead heat at Hollywood Park on Nov. 18, 2000, Ron Anson’s 58th birthday.

Christmas, 2010

It's been almost two years since I spent what I thought at the time was the loneliest Christmas ever, but in retrospect was one of the best. That was the year Ron was at Taft. Christmas was the eleventh month of the nineteen months we spent apart. I met some amazing people in the nineteen months I was alone. Carole, Linda and Rod were three of the special people I grew to know and love during this time. Carole is married to Michael Santos (released in August, 2012, after over 25 years of incarceration.) We drove together to Taft every Friday during the summer and fall of 2010, and became very close. Through Carole I met Linda and Rod, whose son is serving a nine year sentence at Taft. Linda and Rod live in Bakersfield, about 30 minutes from Taft. They visit him weekly, although now he has been moved to Lompoc (about 2 hours away), and will be released in 2013. Anyway, back to the story. Because of Linda and Rod's proximity to Taft, Carole and I would often overnight at their house when there was a free visiting day. Free visiting days were usually Mondays, like MLK's birthday, so we'd go up on Sunday, spend some time with Linda and Rod, and visit our hubby's on Monday. Carole and I were invited to spend Christmas Eve with them, then visit our husbands on Christmas Day. We did, and it was one of my most memorable Christmas' ever. It was a wonderful Christmas for me, even though I was without my children, grandchildren and mom. The five of us had a spectacular dinner, cooked by Linda, and a decadant dessert, also made by Linda, that I can still taste. It was a recipe from Ina Garten, which consisted of meringue, whipped cream and fruit. After dinner we watched movies, opened gifts and stockings, again prepared by Linda, and talked about our families. It was a happy time, a sad time, a nostalgic time. I still think about that Christmas often, and am thankful that I was able to meet these three wonderful people that helped me through a difficult time. Carole and I are both with our families this year, and Linda and Rod will have Corey home next year. I know that can't come soon enough for them. Christmas day, 2010, I left Bakersfield at 7:30am and headed to Taft. I wanted to get there before the crowd, as Christmas is one of the busiest visiting days of the year. Ron and I talked for hours. I didn't want to leave that afternoon, but knowing this would be the one and only Christmas we would spend apart made it easier. Finding the good in a bad situation is sometimes difficult. Luckily I met good people to help make the bad times better, and Christmas, 2010 turned out to be one I will never forget.