Notes from the Land of Oz

Time Machine

While doing some carpentry for a customer last week I saw a photo of a family on a ski slope. The guy looked a lot like Dave. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about him.

Just One of the Bad Guys

In February I went to see my parole officer.  He gave me an appointment for March.  He said it would be my last.


Within two weeks of telling my wife about my crime, my life was imploding. I was indicted for sexual assault. I spent $10,000 to retain a lawyer. There was an ugly article about me in the newspaper. I was losing my job. I was no longer welcome at church.  Many of those I had called friends wouldn’t speak to me.


It was a Monday. My wife and I sat in the lawyer’s office as I told my story.  It wasn’t pretty. Three times over the past year, I had crossed physical and emotional boundaries with a 15-year old girl, the daughter of family friends.

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