Only by True Repentance and Reform...

By Donald P. Long

In this book you will come to know my upbringing that details aspects of your son(s), brother(s) and nephew(s) life. An upbringing that maybe similar if not identical.

This book tells the journey of a young teenager growing up on the eastside of Detroit. Poor, drug addicted Mother, an absent of a Father. Like so many of our Black youth today. An upbringing that pressured me into a life of drug selling. Then eventually an assault with intent to rob and assault with intent to murder. I was later captured and sent to the Michigan Department of Correction for 18.7 years of my life.

This book will allow you into my 18.7 year journey as a prisoner. It will allow you to see the ups and downs and the good and bad that I had to struggle and cope with beginning at the age of 22.

In the midst of a dark period in my life. I was able to find a life giving teaching that lead to my repentance from a criminal way of thinking. And the reformation of a criminal way of acting.

The reader will see that there is an answer to the pain and struggles within our youth today. And that committing a crime, going in and out of prison, neither dying a premature death is not worth the value of their lives.

If you are in prison then this book will let you see how I made it 18.7 years trouble free. I am one of those who was fortunate to make it out alive, well and with a sound mind. To let my young brothers and the world know. That its never too late to repent and reform, and to be a blessing to yourself, your Mother, your family and the world!


--DONALD P. LONG

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493176519

Donald P. Long

The author of this book is a well-studied lover of truth, one whose desire is to see people freed from the lies and deception that has been programmed in us under the Christian doctrine and the King James Version of the Bible. And with this study, his desire is to aid in the free-dom of the people.

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Copyright © 2014 by Donald P. Long.

ISBN:           Softcover                       978-1-4931-7650-2

                    eBook                           978-1-4931-7651-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Rev. date: 05/12/2014

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Contents

Dedications

The Purpose of this Book

The Meaning Of The Title

Desensitized Mind

That Night

The Hamtramack Arrest—The Detroit Arrest

Day of Arraignment

Preliminary Examination Day

Out On Bond

Ignorance Of The Law Is No Excuse

W.h.y.? What Happen Yesterday?—

Jackson Quarantine —First 2 Months—

M.r.—Michigan Reformatory—Ionia, Michigan —Year 1—

Ryan Road —Year 2—

West Virginia —Year 7—

Adrian Michigan —Year 7.5—

Macomb Michigan —Year 9

JSC —Jackson Cooper Street

Kinross Correction Facility —Year 13

Rest In Peace

Walking Papers

Introduction: For An Apology Letter To The Victims of My Crime

A Letter To the Victims of My Crime

Guns

. . . . CAN WE ESCAPE THE CONSEQUENCES!

DEDICATIONS

Great Uncle Larry

Cousins:

Terrance, Andrew, Shawn-Barron, N’Mia,

Marcel, James Jr., Phillip. My Brother Darrell.

SPECIAL DEDICATION TO MY LIL’ SISTER

Nadine Sheree Long

THE PURPOSE OF THIS BOOK

The purpose of this book is to explain the root cause of my criminal behavior that sent me to prison for 18.7 years.

With the purpose of reaching as many people as possible. Especially the youth who are thinking or headed toward a criminal life style. This book also offers guidance to those who are living a life of crime. And even those that are currently in prison. This Book also gives a picture on how to ‘Serve Time,’ positively and not let ‘Time Serve You.’

THE MEANING OF THE TITLE

Only By True Repentance and Reform…

My 18.7 Year Journey In

Michigan Department of Correction

ONLY: Alone in kind or class. Without anyone or anything else. Exclusively; solely.

BY: With the use or help of; through

TRUE: In accordance with fact or reality. Rightly or strictly so called; genuine. Real or actual. Accurate or exact. Loyal or faithful. Conforming to. Honest. Truly.

REPENT: feel or express sincere regret or remorse about one’s wrongdoing or sin. View or think of with deep regret or remorse.

REFORM: make a change in order to improve it. Bring about such a change in (someone) so that they no longer behave in an immoral, criminal, or self-destructive manner.

JOURNEY: the act of traveling from one place to another. Travel somewhere.

*     *     *     *

The title of this book came from the Nation of Islam’s Rules of Conduct 16. That says: ONLY BY TRUE REPENTENCE AND REFORM CAN WE ESCAPE THE CONSEQUENCES. I only used the first 6 six words of this rule.

I chose these words because there are so many people that come to prison and began to express sincere regret for the crime that they have committed. We express sincere regret to the Judge in hopes of a lighter sentence. We express it to our children, family and in some cases to the victims of our crime. We even express it to the instructors of recommended programs; with the intention of getting good reports upon completion. That it may better our chances at the parole board hearing.

It was only by living around other prisoners for many years, which I am able to see the real person for who they really are through their language, attitude, and behavior. If we are in such a repentant state, then why do so many return back in prison for committing the same crime or other criminal activities? If we are truly in a state of repentance, then our language and actions should demonstrate just that. Why aren’t we correcting the wrong that we have committed?

When one has repented from past criminal acts, in the feeling of guilt and remorse, it should cause us to think and behave in a better way.

Because of the pain and suffering that we put our victims through, it will soon show itself in us as we begin to go through the repentance phase. That pain and suffering of guilt and remorse will cause one to work to prevent others from causing such pain and suffering to others.

It is through the mind and heart of the repented, that he or she is willing and able to teach the many lessons they have gained through ones journey in life. In our collective experiences we are able to prevent others from following in our footsteps.

When one has experienced what it really means to Repent; then in that state of Repentance it will produce in him or her a better way of thinking and behaving. Many have said, I have repented for my wrong behavior. But yet have not changed in the way that they think and behave.

The words, Repentance and Reform, come as a package deal, like a one-two punch if you will. You cannot have one without the other; for repentance is spiritual and mental and reform is physical and active.

We can only Reform from that which is wrong and hurtful to self and others. Throughout my 18.7 year journey, I have become totally remorseful over my criminal behavior to the victims of which I am serving time for and those whom I am not serving time for. This book will give my 18.7 year journey before and after my repentance.

When we have truly reformed ourselves from the way that we once behaved then there must be a desire to mentor others that have and are in similar circumstances by whatever means. That is part of the process of repenting and reforming, we must help others. People who are repentant and reformative, help others to repent and reform. We owe that to ourselves, families, communities, the nation, and the world

Prison is always thought of and looked at as the worse place to be. We often say that, I would not wish this on my worst enemy. Prison life for me started off like that, however, when the repentant and reformative process began, I was able to see prison as not being the worst place ever. In fact, I was in the midst of the most beautiful phase of the journey of my life. What some may consider hell, I considered as a place that was meant for purification.

But this journey was a journey within a journey; therefore, with this book I wish to describe my physical and spiritual journey in a chronological way of serving an 18.7 year sentence in Michigan Department of Correction.

DESENSITIZED MIND

DESENSITIZE: to make less sensitive; make less likely to feel shock or distress at scenes of cruelty, violence, or suffering by overexposure to such images, free from a phobia or neurosis by gradually exposing the person to the thing that is feared.

By studying this word desensitize and looking at the very life that a large percentage of young black males live, I can see how we were desensitized to murder, shootings, rape, robbery, assault, selling drugs, and the disrespect to our women and feeling no guilt or remorse afterwards. The violence that we were once sensitive to is now a source of entertainment for the desensitized mind.

The first violence that I witness as a youth was my stepfather fighting my mother on numerous occasions. I have seen him dragging my mother down the alley. I have seen him slapping and punching her. I have seen my mother with busted lips, black eyes, and no one did anything about it. A lot of the times no one ever knew about what was going on.

I seen the hurt, pain and suffering that my mother was going through. But when the news got out of what was going on, my mother’s brother told me that he was going to give me a gun to shoot my stepfather the next time that he put his hands on my mother.

There was a time when I grabbed a knife and told my mother that I was going to stab him. But she stopped me and told me that it’s going to be all right.

When I look at the mental state that my mother is in today, I wonder what if I would have stabbed, shot or killed him. Would my mother be in the condition that she is in today, but on the other hand, I believe all of that is what got me to this level of growth and development today?

As a youth, my stepfather would make me fight my male cousins. He would have us out in the front yard at 9 or 10:00 at night fighting. He would also have me fighting my older sister all the time and would say, Don’t stop until I see blood.

When I was growing up, my uncles were heavy into the drug game. So the tough persona was what I grew up under and influenced by. From seeing how they beat down a plain clothes police officer, to shooting up my grandmother’s next door neighbor’s house while they were in the house.

I recall how all of my uncles would come to my mother’s house to mix up their drugs. My room was in the basement, and that was where they would stay for hours. I would have to take the finished product to a guy parked around the corner. I was only about 15 or 16 years of age then. The fastest money that I ever made was when my uncle, whom was The Man would give me a big knot of one dollar bills, after I delivered a bag of drugs to a man parked around the corner. He would always promise me that I could hang out with him when I get older.

I recall one time when my cousin and little brother came in the house telling my uncles that some man down the street was cursing at them. So one of my uncles sent another older cousin who we thought was an uncle as well. He was sent down the street to see what was going on. Long story short. He ended up killing the man in broad day light and in front of everybody. Needless to say, he ended up doing 12 or 13 years for it; and all of this played a part in desensitizing my mind to violence and criminal behavior.

I recall my cousin who was a few years under me, he and I were given sawed-off barrels of guns and handles to toss in garbage dumpsters 2 to 3 streets over.

One of my uncles was what I would call a ‘Ladies Man’, and he would have all kinds of women. It’s just so much that I see now that influenced me into a life of the disrespecting of women.

I recall another time when the family was having a family gathering out at a park, and Bo who we always thought was an uncle, at the last minute changed his mind and didn’t attend the gathering. To our surprise, he ended up kicking in one of my uncle’s front door and stealing $50,000 out of the closet. When we returned back from the gathering, after my uncle discovered what happened, he and my others uncles narrowed it to Bo. When they caught up with him they literally tortured him; broke his legs and his arms and they even set his Jeri-Curls (hair) on fire. After they dropped him off at the hospital, he was brought to my mother’s house to recover for about 6 to 10 months. He ended up telling them where the money was at. At least what was left of it. And how he spent it all getting high on crack cocaine.

Just imagine growing up in a family like that. Don’t get me wrong there were good times in my family; however, the negative had more influence on me than the positive.

When I turned 16 or 17 years of age, I was heavily influenced by my uncles and the street life. I was living with my mother after she separated from my stepfather and she was still on drugs at the time. This is when I first began selling drugs, at the same time that my mother was using drugs. My siblings and I were experiencing poverty like never before. Due to our mother’s drug addiction, our water was shut off, there was no electricity and no food to eat at times. My little brother and I would steal water from the next door neighbors outside water faucet. This happened not once but numerous occasions. All because our mother was addicted to smoking crack cocaine. At this point, I was ready and willing to try and do what I can; so I started becoming exposed to the street life of selling drugs.

I said to hell with high school after I got kicked out of all Detroit Public schools. I was kicked out because my cousin broke my classmate’s nose. He said that we tried to steal his shoes from him, but all we did was throw one of them in the garbage can as a joke. My cousin and I ended up walking up in one of Ben’s classroom. After I checked him for lying on us. My cousin and I began walking out and as we walked out my cousin asked me if I want him to knock him out. I said yeah, so he did breaking his nose at the same time. A few days later the security guard at Denby High School came to our classroom and escorted us to the principal’s office, which is when we were kicked out of school.

There are those who say you didn’t have to sell drugs. You could have done good things with your life. Yes, that is true and some people have done just that in spite of their upbringing. But I just wasn’t one of them and I gave into the gravitational pull of the streets.

The ‘Onlookers’ are quick to say that the environment should not affect ones behavior, however, I beg to differ. I am sitting up in prison with thousands and thousands of people that was a product of their environment. And there is a larger population that grew up in a negative environment like I and many others did, but was able to navigate themselves through that torturous journey. That vast majority didn’t make it out are filling up America’s prison industrial complexes today. I guarantee that there are more in prison, and on parole or probation, in Juvenile Detention Centers or dead; then there are successful ones after growing up in a negative environment like myself and others.

What I am sharing is just the influence that my family and environment had on me, and others. Those are just some of the negative influences that influenced me growing up.

When any intelligent professional person study the condition of the so-called Black ghettos of America, they will come away with a problem that is rapidly growing. It is a problem which is herding thousands upon thousands of young black males into the prison industrial complexes and cemeteries throughout America. A problem that didn’t just surface by itself. But was and is made by design.

The negative influence of family and community is so overwhelming that it is mind altering. As I grew up around drug dealers and my mother being strung out on drugs was exciting and devastating at the same time. But for the majority, it caused so much pain and suffering to have experienced the things that I have experienced. Think about this for a moment. By watching my mother suffer caused my siblings and I to suffer as well.

What would make a child that have experience suffering and pain due to his mother’s drug addiction, grow up and become the very person that played a major role in supplying the drugs that brought on the pain and suffering? What mind set did I become pregnant with that made me grow up and become a dealer of drugs, which played a part in the destruction of hundreds of families. It was a mind that has been damaged and altered in such a way, that now he desires to share that suffering to others that very pain and suffering that he had undergone.

Everything that I have went through, such as going many nights without food, water and electricity, no heat in the house, and having to move from house to house. All because of my mother’s addiction to crack cocaine. I have become unconsciously dramatized, yet desensitized, that I now have become the agent in the cause of hurt and pain in the lives of hundreds of young children.

I cannot stress this point enough, how I had now become the reason why many children went to bed hungry, no water or shelter, and no adequate clothing or shoes to wear to school.

I remember one time as I was walking to catch the bus to Kettering High school. I didn’t really want to go because the shoes that I was wearing were in bad condition. As I was walking, my great-auntie Donnie was driving by in her blue or gray Mercedes Benz. She seen me walking and crying. She pulled up on side of me and asked me, "Where was I going? Why are you crying? I told her that I didn’t want to go to school with these raggedy shoes on. Then she told me to get in and she took me to buy a new pair of shoes. By me worrying about what others thought of my shoes, I picked out some shoes that resembled the stylish shoes that others were wearing. They were the imitations of the real thing. I still remember the shoes in which they were imitations of they were the white, red and blue Patton Leather NBA’s. When I got to school, some people didn’t know whether they were real or not. But when they got close up and seen that they were fake, they blazed me worse than they would have if I would have worn my old raggedy shoes. I think I never wore those shoes again.

I remember back in my neighborhood, majority if not all of the black males, were into selling drugs. And when there was a drought on drugs in the city or the drug game was moving to slow; those that once sold drugs move to something that would bring money much faster, which was stick-ups or what we called back in the early 90’s was Hitting a Lick. Remember these are the guys I grew up with. I hung out in the hood with, went to school with. So when one of us moved in another direction for money we all moved in that direction.

There were times when I wasn’t working, I went among the fellows in the hood to see what’s up on getting some money. The hood in which I lived was the east side of Detroit, near Harper and Dickerson on Wade Street. But leading up to me committing this crime, I would see the guys in my hood doing stick up guys, some I witness, and others I heard about. I even saw one of my uncles taking some of the young guys on a few stick ups, and they were getting lots of money in doing just that. This played a part in fueling me to commit this crime. This was a time when I wasn’t working, and really had too much pride to go and beg someone for a job; especially hanging out in the midst of guys that aren’t thinking about a job. I went along with a few of my cousins to get a few hundred dollars here and there and sometimes we got nothing.

I recall once me and my cousin borrowed one of my uncle’s guns, it was a 44 Revolver, which my uncle said was, his ‘baby’. We went to get this one white guy that always came in the hood to buy drugs and he always spent lots of money. So by us being broke, no drugs to sell him we decided to rob him. So we approach the truck he was in, in which we seen that he had no keys to it, and that the steering column had a towel wrapped around it. So we approached him like we had some drugs and my cousin got into the truck with him with the gun, when he seen the money my cousin whipped out the gun on him. The white guy pulled off with my cousin in the truck, I’m running alongside the truck telling him to shoot him… shoot him, but my cousin didn’t. Somehow he managed to get the money at the same time, drop the gun in the truck and as the white guy was turning on to Camden off of Parkside. My cousin jumped out the truck and rolled on the ground a few times, we ended up getting the money but we lost my uncle’s guns so we had to pay him for his gun and we only ended up with about $50.00-70.00 each. I shared this to show that sticking up wasn’t my thing, but I did it for fast money but most of all to let the homeboys know that I’m down, I’m cool, I’m a gangster and a thug. I did it so that I can prove to them that I’m one of them, I’m part of the in-circle. This is the kind of image that we saw in the hood as the kind of (Nigga) to be. So this is what we and I lived up to, trying to live up to the status of I’ll do whatever for money on the streets.

This is one thing that has lead untold numbers of the black males into prison, which is Peer-Pressure. Peer-Pressure is just another way of saying that, I’m allowing others to control and dictate how I should think and act. Pressure from one peers is one of the reasons why a large number of black male’s criminal behaviors was and is being influenced by or being pressured by those whom they look up to. Really oblivious that it is being done to them, and sometimes it’s even done out of fear.

There are a number of things that have a powerful influence on the black community. I know when I was growing up, or when I just became a teenager, one of the things that influenced me in a positive way was Rap music. In the mid 80’s, there was Run DMC and Jam Master Jay, LL Cool Jay, and one of my favorite groups was Public Enemy. And we cannot forget about KRS-1 and Boogie-Down Production, also there was the X-Clan. All of them gave so much clean positive music that everyone could listen to. If you go back and listen to their music it was clean, educational and most of all it was Black Powering music. These were just my favorite Rappers then and now. There were others like Doug E. Fresh and Slick Rick. We didn’t have a lot of violent music and videos back then. I remember when a change came in the music industry, such as, Niggas With-A Attitude (NWA), Luke Ski Walker and the 2 Live Crew, Ice T, etc. This ushered in the Gangster music with all sorts of violent descriptions and explicit lyrics. Luke and the 2 Live Crew gave so much sexual lyrics and their videos gave us a visualization of what they were saying, while Ice T was on the tip as well. Even though there were groups of people who fought and protested to have this kind of music banned. However, the music was allowed under the Freedom of Speech, but it went even deeper than that.

THAT NIGHT

Late in the year of 1992, it was past midnight, me and a few of the homeboys was hanging out at the spot on Camden. We were drinking all kinds of alcohol, mixed all together celebrating one of our home-girls break from college. A few of us later went down the street to where my little sister was living just too kick-it-around a little. After a while. Some of the guys and I were tossing around that we need to get some money. My younger sister lived at this house with her child’s father and it was a few other girls there as well. One of the girls was one of our childhood friends who lived down the street. I’ll just call her April, she was back from college, I guess on a college break. After a while she was ready to leave so I offered to walk her home. As we were walking she was telling me what she had up for the rest of the night, by having some of her male friends over to play cards and drink. So I asked do they have some money? she said yeah. So I asked her can I robbed them. I told her that I’ll split whatever they got with her, she said alright. We quickly had to come up with a plan. I told her I’ll be down at my sister’s house and to call me when they get there and I’ll come check them out. I went back down to the house where my sister was staying to wait on the call.

When I got back to the house, I put one of the guys up on this, ‘Lick’, it was cool because he had a pistol. I asked him if he wanted to hit this lick with me, he was down with it. I told him that I am waiting on her to call me when the guys got there. She finally called and said that the guys were there. We went down there to check them out, when we got there they had on their big flat gold chains, they was dressed like they might have some money. Now April who helped to set this up, her brother or cousin Doctor got in on it with us. I told her and him to call me when the guys got ready to leave. A while later they called and asked how can they get them out of the house so you can stick them up? April said that she would toss one of their coats outside, so I said cool.

My little sister is telling me boy you bet not do that, I’m telling her to shut up! Now at this time, I already have a son who was about 3 years of age. On top of that my girlfriend Missy was pregnant at the time. It’s in between 12:00 a.m. and 1:00 a.m. late at night, she’s calling me telling me to come home. I’m telling her that I’m on my way, Missy not knowing what I was about to get into. My little home boy, Doo-Man and I rolled out to lay on them. As we staked out across the street in a driveway, we saw the guys come out the house. Doo-Man had the gun but he was very hesitant, so I took the gun out his hands, and he said don’t shoot, I replied, I’m not gone shoot. I pulled the hood over my head and ran up on the driver getting into the car, Doo-Man ran to the passenger side. As I stuck the gun to his side, I notice a car driving up the street. As the car slowly rolled passed me I made eye to eye contact with the driver which was my uncle Bill, but he didn’t notice me. I turned my attention back to the business at hand, I said again turn off the car and don’t move! The passenger is telling him don’t pull off and all of the sudden he through the car into drive and sped off. I then aimed the gun at the car and fired 3 shots, I notice the car jerk to the left as they raced up the street. I then broke toward the alley and headed back to where my sister was living.

When I got to my sister’s house, we started getting calls from April’s house saying that Boo-Man shot that guy. I remember the first thing that I asked them, Was he dead? And they said no, but that they said, that they were going to Get Back.

I noticed that my wallet wasn’t in my pocket and I went to checking throughout the house. Something told me to go and check the spot where the shooting took place, and you wouldn’t believe it my wallet was laying in the street right up under the street light. I snatched it up and broke back to my sister’s house.

I got a call saying that my cousin came all the way from across town from Three Mile Dr. to Camden Street. I take it that April called her because they were somewhat friends. Before she got there, the detectives and police were speaking to people that was there to get information on what happened. I got word that April was giving them a different name from the person that she knew that did the shooting. When her Mother found out that she wasn’t being honest, her Mother pressured her to tell the truth because if she didn’t she wouldn’t be able to return to college. But on the other hand, her father who stayed around the corner and was from the streets, was telling her not to say anything. Tell them that you don’t know