Two months before I left prison, I found a frog in the yard. I knew if I left him there, he'd be stomped to death. So I saved him. And, in return, he saved me. This is our story. It's one of many stories and is also the reason I am starting a blog. I haven't talked to anyone about the things I care about in twelve years. That changes today. I also have big plans for using my freedom for good. I want to help the rehabilitated people still facing life without parole. I also want to sell the art of some of the amazing artists I met inside so that they and their families can have a better life (and also so people can enjoy their amazing art). I also want to reach out to animal lovers because I love animals. I will share all of this journey here. More on all that soon. Let's start with the frog...
I had just recieved notification I had made parole and I was playing racquetball in the yard to work off some pent up excitement. Well, our version of racquetball. This entailed hitting a ball off the wall of the prison then letting another person take their turn hitting the ball. Usually we'd have six people playing -- two against two and two line judges who'd also chase the ball. I had just lost and I was meandering about checking out "a christmas tree" that had been growing out of a crack in the cement. It was about two feet tall and beautiful but it had stopped growing, probably because it was growing out of that tiny crack, so I thought I would dig it up and transplant it behind the activity shed where some of the guys grew onions and mint. This was not an authorized garden but it was a place of green that was allowed to grow and I thought the tree would do better there.
As I dug around the tree and started pulling on it it became apparent that the roots were deeper than I imagined. I was placing the extra dirt on the concrete and trying to figure out how to get it out without breaking the tap root and then ... the pile of dirt moved! There was a frog under the Christmas tree!
I wiped off the little guy and all the guys came over and were checking him out and we started talking about what to do with him. We couldn't put him back in that tiny crack and there was no natural habitat or water. The entire area was concrete.
He was a fat little guy and we decided to keep him. One of the guys tucked him in his underwear and snuck him in. He was just a small little meaty thing in drawers already holding a small little meaty thing. I wanted to keep him in my cell but I had just made parole and was waiting for a bed in a halfway house. If I got written up for this little frog, it could jeopardize my parole! Instead, one of the guys doing a longer sentence, Shane, took it with him.
Shane is an artist who does origami so when I got a plastic wash basin to put this little guy in, Shane fixed it up nice for him. For him, since he didn't have access to a t.v., this little guy became the Discovery Channel. We dug up some grasses and dirt and built a habitat and put it by the window so it could get some light. We tried putting some spiders in there with him (another one of the guys had a wolf spider so he was good at catching little spiders to feed him) but the frog wouldn't eat them. He would flick his tongue at them but he wouldn't eat them. He wasn't eating at all and we started to worry about him. I went to the library and looked him up. Turns out he was a toad, not a frog, and toads eat worms so we went into the yard, near the boccie ball court, a sand court lined with plastic yellow railroad ties, pried up one of the ties and dug up worms from underneath. We'd put them in a chewing tobacco can, tuck them in someone's underwear and sneak them back indoors. It turns out this little guy really did like worms. Weirdly he'd take them to the water source (like a little moat) and drown them before eating them.
This habitat had a little rock in there and he'd sit on the rock and we covered the top with a thin sheet of acetate we'd bought from the inmates art supplies. He lived like that with us feeding him for about two months. He looked fat and I'd like to think he was happy but sometimes he'd hunker down and then jump, trying to escape through the acetate. He was smart too. He'd even climb the spider plants so he could get higher so he could try to jump over. We'd take him out to play on the floor and he would take off! Every day it was becoming more and more clear he wasn't happy not being in his natural habitat. He needed to be free. Also, his habitat didn't smell good and if was discovered in a shakedown, they'd take him away and, worst case scenario, kill him. Also, we'd go to the hole. So Shane, Jason, Miz, and a couple of the other caretakers all got together and decided -- when I got out, the frog was getting out too.
Getting him out became the next problem to solve. One guy brought at plastic Keefe peanut butter jar from the commissary. Keefe is one of the vendors that charges inmates twice as much as something would cost on the outside for a product that was half as good. Still, they had plastic jars and that was what we needed. We heated the lid with a lighter til it was soft and then poked holes in it with a pen. One of the guys joked I was going to have to stick this jar with a frog in it up my butt to get him out but, in reality, people sneak things into prison, not out, so we thought if we covered him with material we could hide the whole jar in the trunk that would be going out with me.
The night before my release I put him in the jar with worm and a tiny bit of water and he stayed with me in my room because releases happen early in the morning, before everyone else gets out for breakfast, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get him there. I packed up my typewriter, my legal papers, my books, my socks and underwear, some toiletries (which I kept in a plastic bag away from the frog. I didn't want any chemicals to hurt him. I used to work in a grocery store and I know to keep detergent away from the bread!) and I put him in the footlocker and left it open til morning.
I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I found myself worrying about how I was going to put a roof over my head, how I was going to make money to buy stamps to write letters to the guys. Finally I just gave up. Instead I finished the book I was reading, "The Four Hour Work Week". I had big plans when I got out, once I got on my feet, and that book was going to help me get there.
http://fourhourworkweek.com
In the morning, I woke up, brushed my teeth, grabbed my blue towel to give to Miz (they don't sell those in the commissary anymore, only tan, and that little splash of color that matched my footlocker had meant a lot to me while I was there. It looked nice and I wanted to pass it on). My friend Robert helped me carry all my worldly possessions, 83 pounds worth plus frog, all tucked into that blue foot locker, down that long hallway. About 1/8th of a mile of cells. 100 in all, just on that hallway. You couldn't even see from one end to the other. On my way out of Graterford Correctional Institution we stopped by my friend Miz's cell and told him I wouldn't forget him. To keep his chin up and stay positive and stay on top of his legal affairs, and stay involved with the Lifers organization. I reminded him to do positive activities and to have hope and told him that I would write. I also promised I would try to reach back and help him and others like him.
Miz was one of my best buddies. We'd met four years earlier and it was Miz who lifted my spirits and taught me about exercise, which was very good for my mental health, and talked to me about spiritual things. Miz was in for murder. He used to be addicted to cocaine and during a paranoid episode got into a fight with someone and killed them. He'd just turned 30 and he'd already been in for nine years. We met in church and often hung out together in the Law Library. We played racquetball together and before I left, I gave him my racket. It was a nice one and you couldn't by them anymore. Had to check out one of the beaters from the locker and they were pretty beat up so having your own racket was great.
Miz had the bible memorized and he knew the things to say to help you when you were feeling low. He was reclusive and quiet, not like me, but once you were his friend, you were his friend. Miz is one of the people who, if he ever got out of prison, would never go back to prison. He's been clean for a long time and he took his sobriety and trying to be a good man seriously. He still has nightmares about killing that man.
As I walked out, I talked to a lot of the guys. Told them, "Keep me in your prayers." "Be positive." "I will never forget you." I had other close friends I was leaving that I didn't get to say a final goodbye to because they were not on my tier.
I feel lucky that I got to leave without a deep check of my trunk. That was the scariest thing. I guess they are more worried of prisoners taking stuff in than taking stuff out.
And just like that I was out. No, "Here's a bus schedule or a map". Just a, "Be at the halfway house in Pittsburgh by midnight or a warrant will be issued for your arrest for violating probation."
They gave me $75 in cash and a check for the money I had in the bank (I didn't have a bank account so couldn't cash that), gave me a pat on the butt (methaphorically) and said, "Have a nice life". We loaded my trunk in a minivan with three other released prisoners and were driven to Norristown to the Central Rail Station where they basically dumped us off.
It was pretty intimidating, I'm not gonna lie. I didn't know where to go from there. I slung my trunk over my shoulder and followed the other guys who said they knew were they were going -- up steps, down elevators, through turn styles, buying tokens, and finally on a train...all three of us dressed exactly the same -- blue jeans, blue jacket, carrying trunks -- looking just like exactly what we were, three newly released prisoners.
Finally we got to Philly and that's when I figured out they were all going in different directions than me. Thank god that is when I met my Amtrak Angel. Her name is Eileen but she will always be the Amtrak Angel to me. I even have her in my phone that way, as "Amtrak Angel". She saw me standing there looking bewildered and asked if I needed help.
This Amtrak Angel is actually a very nice black lady in her 50's who, I found out later, is a social worker when she's not rescuing people, which might explain why she was so willing to help me.
I was operating on about six hours of sleep over three days. Those last days had been full of decisions and giving away things. I get now why rich people hire people to give away their money. I was giving away my art supplies, colored pencils, paint sets, my mechanical pencil, and there were some tough decisions determining how to give the right thing to the person who needed it most. Especially that mechanical pencil. That's another thing you couldn't buy at the prison anymore. I wanted it to go to the right guy for right job.
Anyway, she said, "Sir do you need help?"
I said, "Yes maam. Yes I do."
She asked where I was going and I said Pittsburgh. The she asked if I had money and I said, "Yes maam. $75."
She used her phone and started calling around to find the best way to get from Philly to Pittsburgh. Remember I had to get there by midnight or a warrant would be issued! I ended up following her on a bus, then a trolley, then a train. We tried to get my cash checked but we couldn't because I didn't have a bank. Still, we made our way to Center City in Philly, to the Amtrak terminal. It was a gorgeous train station. It was surreal after leaving a prison built in1930 but falling apart and going to this building that was probably also built in the 30's but was modern and beautiful. There was Christmas music playing and people giving shoe shines. It was surreal. And there I was, carrying an 83 pound foot locker, with a frog in it, thrown over my shoulder.
The ticket price from Philly to Pittsburgh was $118! Also, you could only check luggage that was less than 50 pounds. There I was with my overweight luggage, not enough money and a frog and not enough money to get to Pittsburgh by midnight.
Eileen, the Amtrak Angel, was upset. She said, "It seems like the Department of Corrections are doing what they can to make you fail at re-entry!" and I have to agree with her about that. She talked to the attendant at the station and said, "This guy just got out of prison and he doesn't have enough money to get to his halfway house and he has to be there by midnight. What do we do?"
A manager came over and reduced my ticket to $60! They also gave me a box so I could take some stuff out of the trunk so it would be less than 50 pounds. That was when FreedomFrog got his first breath of fresh air. I took him out, hiding the peanut butter jar under a shirt (I didn't want to get in trouble for traveling with this frog) stuffed some clothes into a laundry bag. They checked the trunk and the box and prepared to send it, sans frog, onto Pittsburgh. (While that was happening, another small miracle happened. A light-skinned black man in a suit, maybe 40 or 45) whose name I can't remember ... there was a lot going on ... came up and said, "I heard you need some help. I am here to help." and he pulled out five $20 bills. I tried to turn them down but she said, "You go on now and take this" and tucked it into my jacket and walked away. I couldn't believe it. (I tried to give some Eileen but she wouldn't take it either. She said it was her blessing to help.) I am really grateful to all the people who helped me in that moment of turmoil.
Before we parted, I asked Eileen if she would help me with one last thing -- releasing the frog. I wanted someone to film it because I really wanted the guys back at Greater World (which was what we called Graterford because it was such a circus) to see it one day.
She said she would, we walked across the Schuylkill bridge to the riverbank and I found a nice little area and I got out my little black folder with the flyer about the LIFERS program that I had taken from the bulletin board at the prison and she got ready to film with her phone and I started talking and...her phone stopped recording. Her memory was too full. Despite repeated tries, we couldn't get it to work and had to pack it in but she did send that bit of video to my sister so I have gotten to stay in touch with her and I am grateful for that. By then, she had to go and I said, "You've been a blessing to me. Thank you" and I gave her a book "Your Life - Why It Is The Way It Is And What You Can Do About It ....Understanding The Universal Laws"
Your Life: Why It Is The Way It Is And What You Can Do About It
I read this book for the first time in 2005 and it changed my life forever. The book explained the universal law of cause and effect and how to use it to understand and achieve your life's purpose. It meant a lot to me and made my life better and I hope it makes her life better too. She was so positive and loving with me. Her parting words were, "God has special plans for you."
After she left, I stayed in the park for a while. People probably thought I was a little crazy, wondering around with that laundry bag, chasing people running on the running trails and saying, "Sir! Sir, would you like $20?" In retrospect, that probably wasn't a good idea. The ladies especially, I could tell it scared them when I said, "Maam! Maam! Can I talk to you for a minute?" (said the man in prison clothes with a frog and a laundry bag...) I was undeterred but getting hungry and I still had a little bit of time so I decided to get some food before letting the frog go.
I went back over the bridge. It didn't take long to figure out that food has gotten really expensive! I have to be really careful with my money so I went to Wendy's and got a burger and some fries and a cup of water. While I was paying, the lady next to me tried to buy her lunch but it turned out the $20 bill she had was not real. She walked out crestfallen. I followed her and said, "I'll give a real $20 and we can tear up that fake $20 if you will shoot this video for me real quick. (I have to say, I wouldn't have thought that 20 was fake but then, the last time I saw money it was Green! This was pretty colors and had holograms! It looked real to me.) Her name was Kay and she was on her lunch break from working at the food court in the Amtrak station and at first she didn't want to take it but I explained, "This is how the universe works! I was meant to help you!" Turns out she is four months pregnant and really struggling and, with tears in her eyes, she accepted and was so grateful.
We walked back across that bridge to the exact place me and the Amtrak Angel had been and she shot the video on her phone in one take. It felt good to let that frog go. Both of us free and starting new lives on the same day. I hope he does okay.
We watched the video as we walked back across the bridge. She texted it to my sister and then had to get back to work. My sister uploaded the video to youtube that night. And I caught a train and headed to Pittsburgh, me and that frog, both starting a new life.
This is that video:
This video has already been seen over 10,000 times! It has been featured in two news stories and picked up by the Dodo where it is being seen around the world. I really hope to use the momentum of this moment to help the friends I am leaving behind and other rehabilitated Lifers who still have a lot of good to offer the world.
I want to use the momentum I have right now to educate people about Lifer's Inc., a program working to help people facing Life Without Parole (LWOP) as well as Prison Legal News, PAsentencing.com, and The Coalition to Abolish Death By Incarceration. I will be writing more about all these efforts soon. Thank you for reading.
Here we go...
