A Life Wasted

Prison Again

It was June 18, 1979, still dark and early morning when the Ohio State Troopers delivered me to the county jail in Bryon, Ohio. The county Sherriff waited for me at the jail and he was upset. The Sherriff had read my file before I arrived. He didn't want anything to do with me and my escape history. Rather than put me in the jail proper the Sherriff placed me in a holding cell and assigned someone to watch me constantly. The Troopers wanted to charge me with possession of stolen property (the Honda) but the Sherriff prevented it. He called the county prosecutor at home and convinced him that having me in his jail long enough for charges to be processed would break the jail's budget. No charges were filled. All before 7:30 that morning. At 8:00 the Sherriff used a phone in front of me, told me who he was calling, then called Cuyahoga County (Cleveland, Ohio) and told them that I was in his jail and that he was holding me for them. (I'd jumped bond in Cleveland so they had a warrant out for my arrest.) He outlined my escape history, then said his jail couldn't hold me, so he wasn't going to give me the chance to tear up his jail. They said something he didn't like. He then said, "I'll hold him until 3:00 this afternoon. That'll give you seven hours to get here. But at exactly 3:00 this afternoon I'm going to put this guy in the back of my car and drive him to my county's western border, which is also the Indiana State line." They said something else to which he said, "Try me."

After he hung up the Sherriff asked me if I heard the conversation. I had. I asked him if he meant it. He assured me that he did. He said, "Nothing personal, but I will not let you spend the night in my jail." I told him I'd been kicked out of better places, to which he laughed. He said I should try to get some sleep. Tonight I'd be driven to Cleveland or on the run in Indiana. He left after posting an armed guard. I took his advice, laid down on the steel bench and went to sleep. To my disappointment two experienced and very careful deputies from the Cuyahoga County Sherriff's Department arrived at 2:30 pm, cuffed me and took me to Cleveland. I was never charged with anything related to the stolen Honda.

The Cuyahoga County Jail was the largest jail I had been in at the time. It was a high rise of ten or twelve stories (I don't recall how high). I was taken to it's high security floor at the top of the building. I was the youngest there and without a doubt the least dangerous. There was a huge guy so loaded with medication to keep him under control that he moved zombie like, but still the guards feared him. I found it a bit disquieting that the guards wouldn't go near the guy with less than six of them present, but I had to share an open common room with him. Can't remember his name, but he was reputed as having killed several people with his hands "because they were there". There were also two famous mob guys on my pod, there for trial in the well known "Danny Green" mob execution. I recall the mob guys names but wont mention them out of respect and fear. Both those guys are dead now, but another mob guy sits a few feet from me as I write this. Those guys take name dropping personal. So, these two unnamed mob guys had a great deal of pull on the top floor. If they wanted to make a phone call the guard passed them the phone. If they wanted something special for dinner, they ordered out and the guards delivered. Just like you see on TV. Real deal mob guys.

When I was brought to the floor the mob guys wanted to know who I was. Or as they explained to me, needed to know who I was. They were understandably weary of federal agents. All guys in that pod were so notorious that all of them were known for the crime. Everyone except me. That's why they needed to know who I was. I told my story, which they didn't believe half of. In front of me they called one of the guards over and said, "Check him out," with a thumb pointed at me. Two hours later the guard returned and whispered with the two mob guys for several minutes. When that conversation was over the mob guys invited me to their "reserved" table in the day room. "Welcome to the top floor, Houdini." Now that they believed my story they wanted every detail. They were fascinated by my escapes. Until they explained it too me I didn't realize how rare it was that someone would try to escape let alone succeed. When they asked me if I'd try to escape from the top floor I boasted and said of course, though I'd not actually thought of doing so. Climbing down the side of a skyscraper didn't appeal to me, but after the heady conversation with two famous mob guys what else could I say.