Thank you for your comments. I have had over 900 emails on this craigs list posting. Some were not so nice, some called me a liar. It pretty much shows thier IQ level in calling me a liar if they cant even do an advanced google search to see if there is a foundation to my story. These people who called me a liar, told me to drop dead etc...remind me of the cell warriors in prison who would call you dirty names and spit at you behind a closed cell door. A few times in my 16 years in prison I saw a guard hit the open switch to these cell warriors doors to let an inmate at them. Oh boy was it fun to see these cell warriors piss thier pants when they couldn't hide behind a locked door anymore. Seen a few get their asses handed to them. Remember one who used to go wack off at cursing at other inmates behind his door.
Really trying to figure out how I am going to do this project. Its amazing all the helpful information I have received and encouragement. Yes there will be naysayers (whats the catch? who cares? how is it different then other drug stories? my blog writing sucks!) so be it. The blog was wrote in 30 minutes. Sorry it wasnt of novel quality! Thats why I want a gifted writer to write it!!! There will be an update to my craigs listing in about a week for those who submitted a decent reply.
On a last note: do you know a kid who is having trouble-is a little different-has a difficult home life-is being abused-has alcoholics/drug users for parents. What can you do for that kid to help him/her a little in life. Sometimes just a little encouragement or praise can go along way in helping a kid. Can you take the time to do this? Can you ask the authoriities for some intervention for an abused kid-even if it wrecks your friendship with the parent(s)? Look in your heart.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
BOBBY CONVICT LIFE SYNOPSIS
LIFE SYNOPSIS
Born 01/06/58 in Anchorage, Alaska, dad was in the military and mom came to Alaska after him. Parents, grandparents and great grandparents from the N. Idaho area. Dad was the 11th of 11 boys from a strict catholic family.
Mother was the first of two daughters; grand father ran liquor during prohibition and gambling at the Stateline, Idaho
I am the first of five, four sisters. All raised in Post Falls
First encounter with police: Six years old at school in the cafeteria. Hated what was for lunch and started walking the 3 miles home. A cop pulled up to me by the local junk yard that I always played in (with two dogs named Caesar and Brutus). He asked what I was doing and said he would give me a ride home. I told him I would go if he turned on his siren. When he reached in to turn it on I ran and scaled the fence to the junk yard. He followed me. I was screaming like crazy and the dogs went after the cop. I got away and he was stuck with the dogs.
In school I couldn’t sit down or concentrate. I was put in a special education class. They gave me some tests and found out I had an extremely high IQ. They took me out of the class and put me back in regular schooling. It was so slow for me that I couldn’t concentrate. I would be called on in class and wouldn’t know where the class was because I was so far beyond them. I would be embarrassed by not knowing what was going on. I became the class clown. A teacher told me I was stupid and would never amount to anything. My desire for education stopped right there and I flunked 6th grade.
During high school I drank a lot with my friends. I always had girlfriends. I had a 1969 Pontiac GTO in high school. My friends and I would go out drinking in it. The cops would pull us over. They wouldn’t call our parents because my uncle was the mayor and everyone knew my parents from their bar, Bob’s 21 Club, which I now own with my sisters. When the cops would stop me they would make me pour the beer out.
I had a motorcycle in 9th grade. Came home one afternoon after riding and my eyes were blood shot from riding. Dad gave me a beating because he thought I was smoking pot. I had never smoked it but did after that. Figured if I got beat for it I might as well try it.
Got a lot of beatings growing up. My parents couldn’t handle a kid with ADHD. Plus they owned two bars and would come home drunk and the fight was on. Took it until the end of 9th grade and then I fought back. I was 105lbs against a 250lb man. I learned how to fight well! I retaliated by starting fires as a child and wouldn’t eat. If I could take a beating at that size from a big man, you really had to be a tough kid to beat my ass! I also wrestled in school.
Got the high school cheerleader pregnant. Was completely lost in my life - out of school with no job skills. I worked in body shops. I ended up working out of the labor union and was appointed to be on the loan committee for the union.
Tried cocaine at 20. Being ADHD they prescribe Ritalin, a stimulant, to slow you down. Cocaine was a new world to me. It slowed me down where I could think more focused. I was self medicating and didn’t know it. Wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was 37 years old and facing life in prison.
Second time I did coke I was dealing it. Quit work, took over the drug world in Idaho. Found out cops were on to me and I moved to Montana.
Worked on the oil rigs and dealt coke, pot, acid on the side. Took over that area’s drug business. The biker gang for the area were my main customers for the big stuff. One time the local competition cornered me and told me if I dealt again I was finished. The biker gang came to me to stock up and I told them I couldn’t deal because of the competition. They went and beat the hell out of them and scared them to death. I was back in business again.
Working on the oil rigs my lead tool pusher (boss) didn’t like me and jumped me in a bar and I beat him senseless along with his two cronies. Two of us went through a plate glass window of a store. After that incident I was black balled on the oil rigs.
I bought the rights to the poker room in the VFW of Sidney, Montana. The manager was my friend and I lived at his house. We partied all the time. Had a couple of people that were winning too easily at the cards. I knew they were cheating. I contacted an old professional gambler friend of my grandfathers. He came over and we cold decked the hell out of them until they went away broke. Got in a few fights in the poker room. Dealt a lot of drugs from the poker room. I also scammed some other gambling joints using loaded dice, taught to me by a friend of my grandfather.
A connection I had got in a jam and I bought his ‘connection’ from Miami. I started dealing with lesbian Cubans and Colombians. They took me under their wing. I would go out to the lesbian bars in Miami with them. I would get completely blitzed. No use trying to catch women in a lesbian bar!
I helped do some big deliveries for their boss. Had a trunk full of coke in a car I was following and a cop was starting to pull it over for no apparent reason. I drove by and threw a beer out right when he was getting to the car. He ran to his car. I took off, ditched the car and got away. I showed up a couple hours later at my connections place. I was their hero. Took a number of car loads of coke to Denver. They would give me a kilo for doing it with them. I would take it to Montana and Idaho. I also took some pickup trucks/motor homes full of pot to Big Fork Montana for some other people I knew. I would be given a bale for that. The house we put it at would be loaded from the floor to the ceiling in the basement with all the pot they had.
Had a connection in Eugene, Oregon, where I would get all kinds of different pot and would buy 40,000 hits of acid to take to Idaho and to the oil fields of Montana. Also sold a lot of chocolate mescaline.
Found out the cops were on to me in Montana and came back to Idaho to live. Took over the business in Idaho again. By then I was making trips back and forth to Miami for kilos of coke. Would walk right thru the airport with kilos of coke in my carry on.
Partied all night at the Play Boy Club in Miami. Took two women to the hotel room with me, jacuzzied and sexed it up. Took three pounds of coke to the airport with them. Put it on a Northwest Orient plane to Spokane. At the last minute I decided to get on the plane to Spokane because I needed to collect some money. Had my new red Corvette delivered to the airport in Spokane. Got off the plane and knew I was under surveillance. Took the coke from the DEA agent and ran over another one. Called 911 and reported that a black guy just tried to rob me and that he ran into my Corvette. (I actually ran into him) He sued me and I represented myself and beat his dumb attorney. This made the ‘10 most embarrassing moments for Spokane, Washington’ for 1984 for taking the coke from the feds and then reporting them for trying to rob me. Went to prison for this and other charges in later years ; 3 kilos of coke and 75lbs of pot. I was lucky that’s all they caught me with.
In prison I became the jail house lawyer. While other guys were watching television or playing cards, I was studying law books. I retained what I read and became a highly skilled ‘lawyer’. I won a number of cases including one at the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals and one at the Idaho Supreme Court by overturning the Idaho State Bar, reprimanding an attorney and winning a $26,000 judgment against him. This attorney wrote the Idaho Attorney General and the parole board about me going to the parole commission. He said “releasing Wilhelm is like releasing a wild beast upon society, violence is a mechanical reaction for him, he will stalk and kill me, he is a pathological liar, a sociopath etc…” He got caught screwing me over and treid to cover it up.
In federal prison I hung out with mafia members Charlie Iannache and Anthony Pungitore from the Philadelphia Scarfo Gang, and Gene Gotti - brother of John Gotti - from the New York mafia. I used to do their letters to their attorneys and read their law work to see that their attorneys weren’t screwing them. We also used to drink jail house wine together. Charlie and I were moved to the same 2-man room one day. Both of us wanted the bottom bunk. We decided to wrestle for it. We were huffing and puffing and the guard came and said “what the HELL are you two doing?” Charlie says “were wrestling, what the fuck does it look like?” the guard tells us to knock it off. Charlie makes me a deal; he will keep the room clean if he can have the bottom bunk.
I was in the chess club in prison. The Tylenol Killer was in the chess club. This guy is like an idiot savant on knowing characters in books. But he can’t play chess worth a shit. I beat him consistently.
Timothy McVeigh (Oklahoma Bomber) came through the federal prison in Littleton Colorado when I was there. They would shut the whole prison down when he was there. They would make such an issue out of him that you would think he was Hannibal Lecter and if you looked at him you would go insane.
Learned how to power lift in prison with the ‘gorillas’. I had never lifted before and I went to the rec yard and got a bench. I didn’t know it was the biggest guys in the prisons bench. They came and said they worked out at this time and on this bench. I didn’t know any better and told them they could work out with me. They worked my butt into the ground. The next day I was there before them and we went again. One day I was late and they were there. I came up and they said “where you been? “ I was part of the team and got a good lifting education. All balls and no brains!
In prison I finished a Bachelors degree in Business Administration, learned law, dental lab school (made Charlie Iannache an extra set of dentures on the side) welding, electronics, machinist training, computers and every rehabilitation program you could think of. I got so good at the programs I co-facilitated them. Years earlier, the Idaho school system let me slip thru the cracks but in prison I had inmates encouraging and helping me get an education which I took advantage of. Except I could never find anyone to help me with statistics, so I just tested out of it.
I have owned a gambling room, classic auto restoration shop, dental lab, a limousine business, and a property development firm.
On one of my weekend furloughs from Geiger in Spokane I went to Miami and got a kilo of coke before they knew I was gone.
I have pistol whipped, pool stick whipped, stabbed and beat people up many times in the business.
In prison I made from scratch model ships out of pop sickle sticks, corn dog sticks and match sticks. The last one took 560 hours and was published in Country Side Magazine. The guards and the warden used to come to my cell to watch me make them. They couldn’t believe what I could make with what I had. The inmates and guards used to find me materials for the seven ships I built.
I have dealt with Colombians, Cubans, Mexican federalies, sociopaths, killers, pillars of the community etc…
Had a woman in the prosecutor’s office, who hated her boss, give me information on what was going on with the drug world investigations. We had a little fling going.
Two guys jumped me in my Dad’s bar and I stabbed them both and hit one with a cue ball. The cops arrested me. While I was in jail I found out these guys were in the drug world and I had them told not to testify or they would never deal in the Northwest again and gave them a $5k worth of the dope to lose their memory. The case was thrown out when they couldn’t recognize me in court.
My wife’s cousin was an officer on the drug task force here. He would come over to my house with his kids. We would look at each other over holiday dinners and just shrug our shoulders. She was a model in Los Angeles and did a Playboy spread. Prior to our involvement and marriage she dated famous rock stars and was a successful model.
I had a friend that partied with me in the 80’s, , and eventually turned his life around 20 years ago to become an important legislator. Over the years he would try to talk sense into me about changing my life. When I was in prison the last time I had went to the parole board twice without any luck. Finally, I wrote him and told him that if he helped me I would not let him down. He helped me and I got out and I haven’t let him down.
The local County Sherriffused to work for my grandfather. I had 120 acres next to his property at Rockford Bay when I got busted in 95. I believe that property is now part of Black Rock – one of the most exclusive resort golf courses in the world.
The assistant U.S. attorney here now is the Kootenai County Prosecutor. He was my friend in high school and we worked together at the North Shore Hotel (Now the famous Coeur d’ Alene Resort). Once during my drug days we ran into me and said “what am I suppose to do when your file goes across my desk?’ he passed my file on to someone else.
I used to do counter surveillance on the drug task force. I knew what they drove and where they lived. When they were watching me I was watching them. I used to see them and would chase them down with my car. Had a few Mexican stand offs this way.
My partner, Vito Tombari, who was actually kicked out of the State of Washington, was killed in January, 1996, in Spokane. I was in Spokane County Jail then. They shut the whole jail down to bring in the killer. They thought I was going to have him wacked in jail. They let me out of my cell at 9:00 at night to make a call thinking I was stupid enough to call someone to do something about it.
A Frank Tamaz was busted at his car lot in Yakima. They brought me to testify against him. By the time I was finished with the prosecutor and the DEA agent he beat the case. The lawyers came to see me the next night and left me money on my books in the county jail. Frank gave me a truck from his car lot when I got out.
Took over the meth business in N. Idaho in 3 weeks. Learned how to cook and figured out where to get the stuff – all from my local library... The biker gang out of Spokane wanted me to cook for them. The Mexicans out of Tri Cities also asked me to. I declined.
I served a total of 16 years in Federal and State prisons. In 2006, after doing 8 years in state prison I went to the parole board two times with no luck. I contacted a friend of mine who is an important legislator and gave my word I would behave if he helped me. He got me released. He also helped me be able to run my bar on parole. I think its worth noting that a felon cannot even be in a bar while on parole.
In order to make parole, I needed to get a job. It had been 26 years since I had worked for anyone. It didn’t bother me being in houses full of people who didn’t speak English holding machine guns, being in knife fights and 16 years in prison. But scared me to get a job!
Dave Smith took a chance on me and gave me a job selling cars. My first month, after 8 years in prison and not knowing the makes, models or brands of cars, I achieved 5th place out of 17 sales people. After 18 months they put me in charge of half the sales force.
There are stories upon stories I can tell. I should be dead! God had his hand on my shoulder to get through all of this.
Born 01/06/58 in Anchorage, Alaska, dad was in the military and mom came to Alaska after him. Parents, grandparents and great grandparents from the N. Idaho area. Dad was the 11th of 11 boys from a strict catholic family.
Mother was the first of two daughters; grand father ran liquor during prohibition and gambling at the Stateline, Idaho
I am the first of five, four sisters. All raised in Post Falls
First encounter with police: Six years old at school in the cafeteria. Hated what was for lunch and started walking the 3 miles home. A cop pulled up to me by the local junk yard that I always played in (with two dogs named Caesar and Brutus). He asked what I was doing and said he would give me a ride home. I told him I would go if he turned on his siren. When he reached in to turn it on I ran and scaled the fence to the junk yard. He followed me. I was screaming like crazy and the dogs went after the cop. I got away and he was stuck with the dogs.
In school I couldn’t sit down or concentrate. I was put in a special education class. They gave me some tests and found out I had an extremely high IQ. They took me out of the class and put me back in regular schooling. It was so slow for me that I couldn’t concentrate. I would be called on in class and wouldn’t know where the class was because I was so far beyond them. I would be embarrassed by not knowing what was going on. I became the class clown. A teacher told me I was stupid and would never amount to anything. My desire for education stopped right there and I flunked 6th grade.
During high school I drank a lot with my friends. I always had girlfriends. I had a 1969 Pontiac GTO in high school. My friends and I would go out drinking in it. The cops would pull us over. They wouldn’t call our parents because my uncle was the mayor and everyone knew my parents from their bar, Bob’s 21 Club, which I now own with my sisters. When the cops would stop me they would make me pour the beer out.
I had a motorcycle in 9th grade. Came home one afternoon after riding and my eyes were blood shot from riding. Dad gave me a beating because he thought I was smoking pot. I had never smoked it but did after that. Figured if I got beat for it I might as well try it.
Got a lot of beatings growing up. My parents couldn’t handle a kid with ADHD. Plus they owned two bars and would come home drunk and the fight was on. Took it until the end of 9th grade and then I fought back. I was 105lbs against a 250lb man. I learned how to fight well! I retaliated by starting fires as a child and wouldn’t eat. If I could take a beating at that size from a big man, you really had to be a tough kid to beat my ass! I also wrestled in school.
Got the high school cheerleader pregnant. Was completely lost in my life - out of school with no job skills. I worked in body shops. I ended up working out of the labor union and was appointed to be on the loan committee for the union.
Tried cocaine at 20. Being ADHD they prescribe Ritalin, a stimulant, to slow you down. Cocaine was a new world to me. It slowed me down where I could think more focused. I was self medicating and didn’t know it. Wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was 37 years old and facing life in prison.
Second time I did coke I was dealing it. Quit work, took over the drug world in Idaho. Found out cops were on to me and I moved to Montana.
Worked on the oil rigs and dealt coke, pot, acid on the side. Took over that area’s drug business. The biker gang for the area were my main customers for the big stuff. One time the local competition cornered me and told me if I dealt again I was finished. The biker gang came to me to stock up and I told them I couldn’t deal because of the competition. They went and beat the hell out of them and scared them to death. I was back in business again.
Working on the oil rigs my lead tool pusher (boss) didn’t like me and jumped me in a bar and I beat him senseless along with his two cronies. Two of us went through a plate glass window of a store. After that incident I was black balled on the oil rigs.
I bought the rights to the poker room in the VFW of Sidney, Montana. The manager was my friend and I lived at his house. We partied all the time. Had a couple of people that were winning too easily at the cards. I knew they were cheating. I contacted an old professional gambler friend of my grandfathers. He came over and we cold decked the hell out of them until they went away broke. Got in a few fights in the poker room. Dealt a lot of drugs from the poker room. I also scammed some other gambling joints using loaded dice, taught to me by a friend of my grandfather.
A connection I had got in a jam and I bought his ‘connection’ from Miami. I started dealing with lesbian Cubans and Colombians. They took me under their wing. I would go out to the lesbian bars in Miami with them. I would get completely blitzed. No use trying to catch women in a lesbian bar!
I helped do some big deliveries for their boss. Had a trunk full of coke in a car I was following and a cop was starting to pull it over for no apparent reason. I drove by and threw a beer out right when he was getting to the car. He ran to his car. I took off, ditched the car and got away. I showed up a couple hours later at my connections place. I was their hero. Took a number of car loads of coke to Denver. They would give me a kilo for doing it with them. I would take it to Montana and Idaho. I also took some pickup trucks/motor homes full of pot to Big Fork Montana for some other people I knew. I would be given a bale for that. The house we put it at would be loaded from the floor to the ceiling in the basement with all the pot they had.
Had a connection in Eugene, Oregon, where I would get all kinds of different pot and would buy 40,000 hits of acid to take to Idaho and to the oil fields of Montana. Also sold a lot of chocolate mescaline.
Found out the cops were on to me in Montana and came back to Idaho to live. Took over the business in Idaho again. By then I was making trips back and forth to Miami for kilos of coke. Would walk right thru the airport with kilos of coke in my carry on.
Partied all night at the Play Boy Club in Miami. Took two women to the hotel room with me, jacuzzied and sexed it up. Took three pounds of coke to the airport with them. Put it on a Northwest Orient plane to Spokane. At the last minute I decided to get on the plane to Spokane because I needed to collect some money. Had my new red Corvette delivered to the airport in Spokane. Got off the plane and knew I was under surveillance. Took the coke from the DEA agent and ran over another one. Called 911 and reported that a black guy just tried to rob me and that he ran into my Corvette. (I actually ran into him) He sued me and I represented myself and beat his dumb attorney. This made the ‘10 most embarrassing moments for Spokane, Washington’ for 1984 for taking the coke from the feds and then reporting them for trying to rob me. Went to prison for this and other charges in later years ; 3 kilos of coke and 75lbs of pot. I was lucky that’s all they caught me with.
In prison I became the jail house lawyer. While other guys were watching television or playing cards, I was studying law books. I retained what I read and became a highly skilled ‘lawyer’. I won a number of cases including one at the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals and one at the Idaho Supreme Court by overturning the Idaho State Bar, reprimanding an attorney and winning a $26,000 judgment against him. This attorney wrote the Idaho Attorney General and the parole board about me going to the parole commission. He said “releasing Wilhelm is like releasing a wild beast upon society, violence is a mechanical reaction for him, he will stalk and kill me, he is a pathological liar, a sociopath etc…” He got caught screwing me over and treid to cover it up.
In federal prison I hung out with mafia members Charlie Iannache and Anthony Pungitore from the Philadelphia Scarfo Gang, and Gene Gotti - brother of John Gotti - from the New York mafia. I used to do their letters to their attorneys and read their law work to see that their attorneys weren’t screwing them. We also used to drink jail house wine together. Charlie and I were moved to the same 2-man room one day. Both of us wanted the bottom bunk. We decided to wrestle for it. We were huffing and puffing and the guard came and said “what the HELL are you two doing?” Charlie says “were wrestling, what the fuck does it look like?” the guard tells us to knock it off. Charlie makes me a deal; he will keep the room clean if he can have the bottom bunk.
I was in the chess club in prison. The Tylenol Killer was in the chess club. This guy is like an idiot savant on knowing characters in books. But he can’t play chess worth a shit. I beat him consistently.
Timothy McVeigh (Oklahoma Bomber) came through the federal prison in Littleton Colorado when I was there. They would shut the whole prison down when he was there. They would make such an issue out of him that you would think he was Hannibal Lecter and if you looked at him you would go insane.
Learned how to power lift in prison with the ‘gorillas’. I had never lifted before and I went to the rec yard and got a bench. I didn’t know it was the biggest guys in the prisons bench. They came and said they worked out at this time and on this bench. I didn’t know any better and told them they could work out with me. They worked my butt into the ground. The next day I was there before them and we went again. One day I was late and they were there. I came up and they said “where you been? “ I was part of the team and got a good lifting education. All balls and no brains!
In prison I finished a Bachelors degree in Business Administration, learned law, dental lab school (made Charlie Iannache an extra set of dentures on the side) welding, electronics, machinist training, computers and every rehabilitation program you could think of. I got so good at the programs I co-facilitated them. Years earlier, the Idaho school system let me slip thru the cracks but in prison I had inmates encouraging and helping me get an education which I took advantage of. Except I could never find anyone to help me with statistics, so I just tested out of it.
I have owned a gambling room, classic auto restoration shop, dental lab, a limousine business, and a property development firm.
On one of my weekend furloughs from Geiger in Spokane I went to Miami and got a kilo of coke before they knew I was gone.
I have pistol whipped, pool stick whipped, stabbed and beat people up many times in the business.
In prison I made from scratch model ships out of pop sickle sticks, corn dog sticks and match sticks. The last one took 560 hours and was published in Country Side Magazine. The guards and the warden used to come to my cell to watch me make them. They couldn’t believe what I could make with what I had. The inmates and guards used to find me materials for the seven ships I built.
I have dealt with Colombians, Cubans, Mexican federalies, sociopaths, killers, pillars of the community etc…
Had a woman in the prosecutor’s office, who hated her boss, give me information on what was going on with the drug world investigations. We had a little fling going.
Two guys jumped me in my Dad’s bar and I stabbed them both and hit one with a cue ball. The cops arrested me. While I was in jail I found out these guys were in the drug world and I had them told not to testify or they would never deal in the Northwest again and gave them a $5k worth of the dope to lose their memory. The case was thrown out when they couldn’t recognize me in court.
My wife’s cousin was an officer on the drug task force here. He would come over to my house with his kids. We would look at each other over holiday dinners and just shrug our shoulders. She was a model in Los Angeles and did a Playboy spread. Prior to our involvement and marriage she dated famous rock stars and was a successful model.
I had a friend that partied with me in the 80’s, , and eventually turned his life around 20 years ago to become an important legislator. Over the years he would try to talk sense into me about changing my life. When I was in prison the last time I had went to the parole board twice without any luck. Finally, I wrote him and told him that if he helped me I would not let him down. He helped me and I got out and I haven’t let him down.
The local County Sherriffused to work for my grandfather. I had 120 acres next to his property at Rockford Bay when I got busted in 95. I believe that property is now part of Black Rock – one of the most exclusive resort golf courses in the world.
The assistant U.S. attorney here now is the Kootenai County Prosecutor. He was my friend in high school and we worked together at the North Shore Hotel (Now the famous Coeur d’ Alene Resort). Once during my drug days we ran into me and said “what am I suppose to do when your file goes across my desk?’ he passed my file on to someone else.
I used to do counter surveillance on the drug task force. I knew what they drove and where they lived. When they were watching me I was watching them. I used to see them and would chase them down with my car. Had a few Mexican stand offs this way.
My partner, Vito Tombari, who was actually kicked out of the State of Washington, was killed in January, 1996, in Spokane. I was in Spokane County Jail then. They shut the whole jail down to bring in the killer. They thought I was going to have him wacked in jail. They let me out of my cell at 9:00 at night to make a call thinking I was stupid enough to call someone to do something about it.
A Frank Tamaz was busted at his car lot in Yakima. They brought me to testify against him. By the time I was finished with the prosecutor and the DEA agent he beat the case. The lawyers came to see me the next night and left me money on my books in the county jail. Frank gave me a truck from his car lot when I got out.
Took over the meth business in N. Idaho in 3 weeks. Learned how to cook and figured out where to get the stuff – all from my local library... The biker gang out of Spokane wanted me to cook for them. The Mexicans out of Tri Cities also asked me to. I declined.
I served a total of 16 years in Federal and State prisons. In 2006, after doing 8 years in state prison I went to the parole board two times with no luck. I contacted a friend of mine who is an important legislator and gave my word I would behave if he helped me. He got me released. He also helped me be able to run my bar on parole. I think its worth noting that a felon cannot even be in a bar while on parole.
In order to make parole, I needed to get a job. It had been 26 years since I had worked for anyone. It didn’t bother me being in houses full of people who didn’t speak English holding machine guns, being in knife fights and 16 years in prison. But scared me to get a job!
Dave Smith took a chance on me and gave me a job selling cars. My first month, after 8 years in prison and not knowing the makes, models or brands of cars, I achieved 5th place out of 17 sales people. After 18 months they put me in charge of half the sales force.
There are stories upon stories I can tell. I should be dead! God had his hand on my shoulder to get through all of this.
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