A Life Wasted

On to Alaska 1989

Had we driven straight to Alaska it would have been 4,370 miles from where we lived to Anchorage, but we made the drive three hundred miles longer by going to Ohio first so Mary could spend a few days with her parents. If there was any doubt that Mary's family hated me it was gone when we announced we were moving to Alaska. I didn't realize how upset they were with me over this move until the last morning before leaving for "The Last Frontier." Mary, Emily and Cody the infant had used our tow car to have an early breakfast with her mom, so I had the rest of the kids in the two adjoining hotel rooms we'd rented. I had Clay, Becky, Luke, Kelly, and Janie. Mary left early so I woke to a wrestling match in my bed. The kids were all excited about going to Alaska so were wired up and ready to go. They were also hungry.

Mary was due back soon so I told the kids to hang on for breakfast. I couldn't easily feed them because there wasn't a restaurant we could walk to, and to drive the van I'd have to remove the car hauler attached to it, which I didn't want to do. A half hour later Mary still hadn't returned and the kids are singing "Feed Us." There was a convenience store in sight, but Clay was the oldest present and he was only seven, so I really couldn't leave them alone to go to the store, and walking them all there was out of the question, so again, I said wait for your mom.

As we waited there was a knock on the door. Outside were two uniformed police officers. Someone (one of my relatives) had called the police and accused me of child abuse and possession of illegal guns. The child abuse was related to our kids not being in school and that we were "dragging them across the country to Alaska." The cop explained this at the door and asked if he could come in. I sent the kids into the adjoining room and let them in. I explained that we homeschooled our children, which, though not legal in Ohio was legal in Georgia, our official residence. I also explained that some of my in-laws didn't like us moving to Alaska, which, though I understood, was not their call.

The cop was sympathetic, but he had to follow up. He asked if he could talk to the kids and I said sure. So I called the kids and they all marched into the room. The first question the cop asked was directed to Clay, the oldest, "Are you hungry?" Clay didn't hesitate, he said, "Yes, I'm starving but dad wont feed me." This was not a good start. It's made worse by the fact that Clay's heart condition jacked up his metabolism to the point that he was always ultra-thin. His normal look is that of a kid being starved. Fortunately the cop had kids of his own so he asked when was the last time he'd eaten and what he'd had and other stuff like this. At my urging Clay explained that we were waiting on mom to return. Our children have always been open and friendly. We encouraged them to think and say what was on their mind, which comes through when you meet them. This was apparent so the cop didn't get the feeling our kids were abused so he sent them back into the other room.

When they were out of earshot he asked me about the guns. I asked why that was his concern. He explained that the report said I had guns in the van. He said he knew I was a convicted felon, then explained it was illegal for a convicted felon to posses guns under Ohio law. When I didn't answer he asked if he could search the room. I said no. He asked if he could search the van and I said no. He said he could get a search warrant. I said he probably could but the charge wouldn't stick. No probable cause. The call he received was anonymous and there wasn't any evidence to support the allegations. He looked at me funny after I said that. I said, "This isn't my first encounter with the law. I know my rights. You can't search my stuff."

The cop really was a decent guy trying to do what was right. He wasn't trying to harass me, but he wanted to be sure everything was okay here. So he asked if I knew anyone in the area who would vouch for me. I don't' know why, but I gave him Mary's dad's name. I knew other's in the area, but Mary's dad popped into my head first and I'd learned to trust my instinct. The cop said, "Is he a ham radio operator." I answered by saying, "K8DOH," which was Art's ham radio call sign. The cop pulled a portable ham radio from his belt and called my father-in-law using his own call sign. I am certain that Mary's dad didn't like a lot of what I had done, nor did he like the fact that I was moving his daughter and grandchildren to Alaska, yet my father-in-law vouched for me. He told the cop I was a good guy who loved his family and would never abuse them. The cop said he had been told that I had guns, including an AK-47, so he asked Art, a Methodist pastor, if he had seen me with an AK-47. I had in-fact showed my father-in-law a superb Sako bolt-action hunting rifle the day before, but not an AK-47. So he told the cop, "I've never seen my son-in-law with an AK-47." That was good enough for the cop so he left us alone. Had my father-in-law been there I would have kissed him on the mouth.