My Dad Taught Me How to Build Things. Now I’m Doing It in Prison.
“What neither of us knew was that coming to prison would create new worlds for me to build.”
My father, a recovering drug addict, counseled others during the day at our local community-service board. At night, he built and fixed things. He told me simply that he’d learned every trick of every trade, both legal and otherwise, during his addiction.
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He helped me build winning wooden derby cars for Cub Scouts. His dad had never helped him, so he made it a point to do so for me. I admired the way he could shape wood, often by feel rather than measurement. He once carved a mirror-stand so realistic it looked
