Dear John,

First of all, I apologize for the shock I know this may be to you. I am sorry, but there was no way to warn you ahead of time. I apologize in advance for the old wounds it will re-open but it is my hope that you have healed enough to make this pass quickly for you.

Second, I picked you because for one, I realize with the passing of your father that you have unfortunately become the patriarch of your family and I think it is best for you to decide if this should be shared with your mother and sister or not.

I also apologize for my timing. There hasn't been a good time in the last 27 1/2 years and there never will be, but I have decided it is the only time because you and your family deserve something directly from me and it's way overdue.

I am also sorry your Dad won't get to read this because he certainly deserved it too. I unfortunately lost my Mom while I was in prison after having not seen her for ten years. I never knew anything could hurt as much as losing a parent, and I am sorry for your loss.

The third reason is that I recently (well, if you can count January as "recently" ) found all of the articles that were written back then and I re-read them after all these years, with completely different eye's and understanding than I had back then. There was one where you said that you just never wanted this to happen to anyone again because of me.

You weren't mean or vindictive, just firm in what you wished for.

I appreciated that because regardless of what anyone said or even my actions during the trial, I felt horrible about what I had done and the pain your family and Andy's friends were feeling.

I wanted to write to you and not only apologize personally, but also to show you, if possible, that your wish has been granted and much more. Also, that though this happened and I did what I did, Andy's life and needless death have actually made a big difference in the world.

Besides my own apology for my actions, I also want to apologize for the actions of my attorney in trying to make Andy look bad to try to get me out of the consequences of my actions.

At the time I had no clue and just remembered everything the way he told me to remember it.

There was no need for him to talk about things Andy had done or was accused of doing. That had nothing to do with Andy being a victim of what I did.

I apologize that your brother was portrayed by my lawyer as a predator. There was no reason or basis for that.

One of my many regrets is that I was a coward then and agreed to anything the lawyer came up with that might get me out of trouble. Even though I knew it wasn't right.

I also hope I can answer any unanswered questions you may have about what happened that night and how your family lost Andy.

27 1/2 years ago, writing this letter would have seemed like I was trying to get something out of it, like getting my sentence reduced, so the time was wrong. Anytime during my incarceration would have been viewed the same. Especially around the ten year mark when there was an article in the paper that your Mom thought it was too soon for me to get out.

I have always wanted your family to know how sorry I am for taking Andy from you. But it wasn't the right time.

So I would wait till I was out so it couldn't be said that I was apologizing to get out early.

When I got out, I felt that I should do something. I should get involved in helping kids who were getting in trouble at young ages like I did. I thought too to write you then. Well, I was just out, it could be perceived as trying to get off parole early. As for doing something to give back, well, I didn't have any experience or history of being an example, so I decided I should wait till I had a couple of years of doing well before trying to give back.

The same with writing. I wanted a couple years to show a track record of doing the right thing before I wrote you.

Once that rolled around it still wasn't good enough.

I'd have to wait until I was off parole to establish myself as a good individual, a contributing member of society and a good guy who did some bad things.

That time has also passed and I have done nothing.

Until now.

There will never be a right time. The only time is now and I don't want it to keep slipping by without me doing what I know is right for me to do.

John I am so sorry and I apologize to you and your family for the loss of Andy at my hands.

It is not something I would have ever wanted to do, but I did and I am sorry.

The things I experienced in prison I won't talk about because those were part of the punishment that I willingly accept for what I did.

What I will talk about is what has happened since and how Andy makes a difference even today.

And I will try to keep it as condensed as possible.

I got out and began the re-adjustment somewhat roughly but never really got in trouble.

Over time I eased back into life. Became a husband and father. Had a career. Got divorced. Changed careers.

All the while, no one except my family knowing about my past.

Last year right about now that changed. I had been out quite awhile and living with this secret and doing nothing I should be doing.

And I met someone who opened it all up for me.

Last year at this time I was telling everyone in my life what I had done, and what little I could tell them about Andy.

At this time last year, nobody knew what had happened.

Now everyone does. My family, my children, my employers, co-workers and all of my friends.

I came clean.

I had been keeping myself in another prison for years and it had to stop.

And they all know this was my fault.

And still I am accepted because I worked very hard to make a new me after what had happened.

Because I didn't want this to happen in the first place and I was with you on never wanting me to be responsible for such a thing again.

I also wanted something good to come from Andy's death.

So he was (and is) in my mind everyday and I worked toward building a life that would be respectful to the loss of his.

I wanted everyone to know that there was a person responsible for this me that they all know and think so highly of. And his name is Andy Davel.

So I told the entire story all the way back to the first time I got in trouble to all of these people.

I've got some things lined up for speaking to some people. Nothing set yet, but I'm working on it.

I want to do what I can to stop this from happening to other families. The violence in the world today is scary.

Andy influences me all the time. I work hard to be a good family man, friend, and in my work help people make their dreams come true. I am inspired by the gift I received, to make the most of it.

John, I am so sorry to you and your family for my careless, stupid actions that night. There was no excuse for my behavior, and contrary to the way my lawyer portrayed it, Andy was completely innocent in this and was not being a bully or any of the other things that were implied.

It was 100% me being careless, reckless, irresponsible and out of control.

I apologize.

I mentioned being able to relate to the loss of your father as I had lost my mother after not seeing her for tens years. Car accident.

I thought nothing could be worse than losing a parent.

Until, like you, I lost a sibling.

My sister was killed two years ago. Not like Andy, but by a truck driver texting while on 41.

Losing my sister was way worse than my Mom, and I still haven't gotten over that.

And your loss of your brother was even worse, because of me.

I also sort of experienced the loss of a child. My son that was born shortly after this, I haven't seen him since he was 18 months old and he has no desire to change that. It's not the same I know, but it does give me a small sense of that loss.

I am sorry. I tell you these things so you know I have a small understanding of your feelings.

I thought to tell you everything that happened that night to the best of my knowledge, but decided I will leave that to you if you have any specific questions and I can answer them for you.

I am sorry that the person I was back then took Andy away from your family.

The person I am today is using the worst experience of our lives to be the best person I can be.

Even I sometimes, when I think about it all, think it's not fair that I was given an opportunity to turn around the bad life I was living, while Andy was denied the chance to continue the good path he was following.

It has been very hard in a lot of ways. There were many times I wanted to give up, but something always told me I had to keep trying.

One of the articles I found was called "Paradox" and it contrasted different ways people saw me. On one side it was positive things and on the other, very negative things. I guess it was to show that there were two wildly different versions of me.

I know and can admit that everything bad said about me was very true.

However, until I read that, I didn't realize the article had really been stuck in my head since I first read it all those years ago.

All of the positive things and things that were listed that I had potential or talent in, I focused on bringing them to the front and developing them. The bad things, I made sure that I was not that person. It keeps me very aware of how lucky I really was.

Without having ever thought about it, I see now that the "Paradox" is gone. There's no longer two wildly different versions of me.

Just the one I should have been and wish I would have been, all along.

I do not know why things happened the way they did, other than my carelessness and bad attitude. In these situations people like to talk about "God's Plan". I don't have anyway of knowing what that is, but what I do know is God did not tell me to stab Andy. This was nobodies fault but mine.

I apologize, sincerely for the pain I caused you and your family.

And I apologize for taking Andy's life from him, and you.

I won't take any more of your time.

If you have any questions or anything you want to say, please feel free to do so. I will answer any questions as best as I can.

If not, I thank you for taking the time to read this, and again I am very sorry.

Reverend Reggie was not a Reverend, though it was his goal to become one. We
didn't call him Reverend Reggie either. We just called him "Rev."

He was a very Christian, young, yet mature black man and I no longer remember what his crime was.

He was a bit of an odd duck in the environment we were in. He was distinctly black in his skin color, use of language and other stereotypical traits. However, his demeanor was rather middle of the road white guy. So he didn't quite fit in.

Everybody liked him though. We just messed with him a lot in a humorous fashion. At least it was humorous to us. May not have been for him, though he seemed to be laughing with us.

Reggie was a tall somewhat nerdy guy with glasses so that didn't help his cause. But he was as nice, honest and sincere as a guy could be. His conviction to his faith was never questioned. Nobody thought it was a typical game which gets played from time to time.

Reggie was real and it was reflected in the way he lived, even in the less than desirable environment within which he found himself.

Reggie was well liked, got a long with everybody and took the teasing like a
champ.

Reggie was a co-worker at a job.

Reggie was happy and full of love and forgiveness.

Until Reggie made a decision to tell on some people for some activities that were against the regulations of the fine establishment.

Reggie was happy and full of love and forgiveness.

Until we set Reggie up.

It was a horrible thing and I was probably the most involved. I haven't thought about this incident in many, many years but I did today and I wish I could get a hold of Reggie to apologize. Maybe crack some jokes at each other's expense.

But I can't even remember Rev.'s last name.

Even with the advanced technology of the day and my adeptness in it's use, without remembering his last name, there's no way I could track him down.

I don't remember what the illicit activity that Reggie reported was either. I remember
it was a member of a particular group of guys that I generally associated with,
and I remember it being early in my stay and I guess it had a lot to do with
trying to be a stand up guy and show I was worthy of the company.

In a situation like that any company that comes in numbers is good.

So Reggie told and it was found out. Whispers everywhere till it was confirmed.

Reggie had a good job as it goes. Reggie got regular visits from his wife and family. Reggie never once got in trouble, not even a warning for an improperly made
bed.

Reggie was ready to move out of the current residence and into something a bit less
restrictive.

Someone melted a razor blade into a toothbrush.

I spent several days arguing with Reggie. Starting a confrontation every time I could until he was heard by reliable witnesses, threatening me.

A few days later the homemade weapon was found deep inside his
mattress.

Everything that Reggie worked for was gone.

I felt horrible then, I feel horrible now.

No, he shouldn't have been sticking his nose in other peoples business.

But he didn't deserve that either.

My sincere apologies Rev.

I pray that what I heard and/or dreamed later is not true.

I hope your free and the well loved Pastor of a well attended and loved church.

I hope you have forgiven us.

The heading picture in this story should give you a clue where this is headed.

The interesting thing is that this picture was taken well before I was born. It was taken well before my parents were born.

It was taken before my grandparents were born.

This picture was taken in 1913. Nine years before my grandfather was born.

Thirty-three years before my mother was born.

Fifty three years before I was born.

At the time this picture was taken, no one had a clue that my grandfather would be born in October of 1922.

Nobody knew my Mom would be born in September of 1946.

Nobody knew that I would be born in March of 1966.

The picture you see is a place known as "The Walls". It was initially a Territorial Prison, constructed under the orders of Wisconsin Governor Nelson Dewey in 1851.

If you were to stand in the exact position of the photographer who took this picture, with your handy-dandy Smart Phone in Camera mode, you would take virtually the same picture. There's changes; but not from this angle. It's virtually the same. Except that the street is now paved, and the road is no longer that wide. There's houses on the other side of the street now.

While no one could anticipate my arrival fifty three years later, when this picture was taken, "The Walls" already had a place for me.

What you see in this picture is what is known as the "South Cell Hall", and the "Administrative Center". Just past that, which isn't clearly visible, is the "North Cell Hall". Identical to the South in every way. Later the South West and North West Cell Halls would be added adjacent to the North and South.

I spent the majority of the eight years I was there in the North Cell Hall.

Above is a picture of the North Cell Hall. The first cell you can see on the bottom is numbered 66. Straight above that is a number that is obviously 100 something but indistinct.

In my time, they were numbered differently.

Straight above the 66 you see, was known as B-3.

That was where I lived.

Prison tries to mimic straight society. B-3 was my address. It was my "house".

It was allegedly 6ft by 9ft, though I think I was much smaller.

It had a bed that was chained to the wall and could be folded up to the wall for extra space. People need exercise. How many regular guys like me who took a wrong turn slept on that bed? How many bona-fide bad seeds and legitimate psycho's slept on that bed? There's no way to know but I bet the number is high.

It had a toilet, a sink, a mirror that was like one at the Funhouse. It also had a small book shelf on the wall that wouldn't actually hold books because it was too narrow. It had a vent hole with a bar next to the toilet.

Thanks to the Clint Eastwood movie "Escape from Alcatraz" many, many nights were spent thinking that if you could cut that bar and lather yourself with Vaseline, you could get into the maintenance walk way that could possibly lead to freedom. It had a small desk that was so small that once your few possessions were on it, you had to use your bed to write a letter.

Once a week the tier tender would come by with some Comet and a scrub brush and hand it through the bars so you could clean your cell. Twice a week the door would slide open so you could go to the bathhouse and take a shower.

The toilet and sink served double duty, as did the chains on the bed.

See, you would order a tiny box of Tide (like the vending machine's at the Laundro-Mat sell). You would then wash your clothes in the toilet right after the tier tender brought the Comet.

Then you would try to rinse the soap out in the sink. Rinse, wring, rinse, wring. No matter how much you rinsed and wrang, you could always smell the Tide and another smell that is in describable. I can smell it now. Then you would drape your clothes over the bed chains to dry. And once they were dry, they were hard as a rock until you wore them for awhile.

Contrary to media propaganda, there is no cable TV, no golf course and the "elite health care" that is thrown around by people who know nothing of what goes on inside those walls does not exist.

I lost my hearing because of that "elite health care" system. I know several people who lost their lives.

Everything you've seen in the prison movies is alive & well at Waupun Correctional Institution.

My all time favorite movie is Shawshank Redemption. Because it is the most accurate portrayal of prison life I have ever seen.

In the beginning I was as out of place and naive as Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins). By the time I left I was more like Ellis "Red" Redding (Morgan Freeman) The man who could get anything. We also had our "Bogs" His name is Kenneth Jaworski. Feel free to look him up on the Wisconsin Sex Offender website to verify his existence. (Normally I protect full names here, but he's not worthy of that respect).

We once smuggled in puzzle for a guy named Otis. He was 97. He came into Waupun on a Stage Coach.

Lifer.

He put it together. We had a guy named Rick in EMC ( Electrical, Maintenance & Construction) make an ornate frame from scrap wood. We moved it from the Northwest cell hall to EMC. We smeared paste on the back, framed the puzzle and smuggled it back out, netting Otis a hundred and fifty bucks for his Canteen account for a joy he hadn't had in years. I had two carton's of Marlboro's in my possession for arranging the transaction.

Marijuana was also a hot commodity. One joint about the size of a toothpick would net two packs of "tailor-mades" . Those being factory cigarettes like Marlboro's. Alternatively a carton of roll your owns would work too.

For me it was income, but also a chance to get over on the "screws" (aka guards) because I could get it and be astounded at their stupidity and blindness in allowing me to bring it in.

Captain Thomas Borgman (yep, that's his real name too) knew I was doing it and harassed and pursued me for three years and couldn't prove it or find any evidence. I was strip searched after every visit and he never found a thing.

It came in the mail via the Appleton Post-Crescent that was delivered to my cell weekly via subscription.

The fact that I used to be a carrier and had friends who were carriers, was something he never thought of. My guys would take a newspaper, cut out the biggest ad's. They would then get another paper, find that ad put a bunch of weed on it and glue the ad they cut out from the other paper over the top. They'd open the paper, shake it, nothing suspicious and give it to me. I would then distribute.

Lock's in sock's exists. Rape exists. Drag Queens with Kool-Aide for make-up exists.
 
Guards abusing inmates exists. Guards killing inmates, through action or inaction, exists. Inmates killing inmates exists. Inmates inuring or killing guard's exists. Riot's exist and rubber bullets hurt like hell.

I've seen it all with my own eye's. I've lived it and I know reality inside the Walls.

How I got there is another story.