Advent Home Learning Center, Inc.

As a freshman in high school I would attend only three of 8 classes. My behavior was now catching up with me. By the end of the first semester, my GPA plummeted from 3.5 to 0.5.

At this stage, my sense of responsibility was pretty much gone. I didn’t care about anything, not even myself. My family was the last thing on my mind. My life was slipping right through my fingers.

At times, I would keep my mother up all night wondering where I was. I would stroll in a couple of days later as if nothing had happened, totally insensitive to the emotional pain I was causing my mother and grandparents that I claimed to love so much.

At this point cancer was eating away at Grandpa, but I didn’t have the sensitivity to pay him any attention. He meant everything to me, and yet, all I was doing was disappointing him and the rest of my family.

My parents saw what was happening to me. In desperation they intervened and stopped me in my tracks.

On Wednesday morning, June 16, 1999, at 5:00 a.m., my Dad and a family friend came to my bedroom and woke me up.

My dad stood over me and told me they were taking me to Tennessee . With two big men standing over me, I felt trapped and shocked.

I soon realized I was not getting anywhere and when I saw a pair of shiny handcuffs dangling from my father’s hands, I knew it was not going to be a democratic process.

My father told me to put my clothes on and go willingly. I refused. He gave me the option to cooperate or be handcuffed.

Standing in my new pair of handcuffs, they walked me to my Grandpa’s bedside to say good bye. I knew I was seeing him for the last time.

As we embraced, we were both crying. In his tears he told me he supported the decision. “Son”, he said, “it is best for you to go”.