Nightmare In Utah

By Brad Charles

Author Brad Charles had always dreamed of opening his own restaurant. In the fall of 2005, he made that dream come true and opened Curly’s Fine Dining in southern Utah. In Nightmare in Utah, Charles shares his experiences of planning for and operating this restaurant named after his stepfather.

But for Charles, the dream soon turned into a nightmare. In this memoir, he narrates the ups and downs and pitfalls of business ownership against the backdrop of his personal life. He discusses the many issues he encountered in trying to run a profitable restaurant, and he also describes the host of challenges life presented including his wife Sharon’s cancer diagnosis and subsequent death, his relationship with her children, and dealings with the FBI.

While sharing details of the rough patches of Charles’ experiences, Nightmare in Utah offers insights into his life as he presents commentary on issues affecting businesses and personal rights and offers solutions to help improve society.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Aug 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483414683

Book preview

CHARLES

Copyright © 2014 Brad Charles.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1469-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1467-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1468-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014912452

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 02/23/2015

Contents

Chapter 1    Descent Into Darkness

Chapter 2    When A Loved One Dies

Chapter 3    A New Environment: Southern Utah

Chapter 4    Special Rules Just For Us

Chapter 5    The Start Of The Fall

Chapter 6    Conspiracy By Town Leaders

Chapter 7    Town Leaders Change Tactics

Chapter 8    Banks Steal My Dream

Chapter 9    Town Gangs Up On Me

Chapter 10    Fall Of The Restaurant

Chapter 11    Avalanche Of Problems

Chapter 12    Who Really Is Ringo?

Chapter 13    Weekend Of Hell

Chapter 14    Hell Follows Me To Southern Utah

Chapter 15    Good-Bye, Utah!

Chapter 16    Starting Over

Chapter 17    Wendy—Fbi Or What?

Chapter 18    More Heartache

Chapter 19    Steven

Chapter 20    Thank You, God

Author’s Note

About The Author

This book is

dedicated to my son

and all families who have lost a child.

You will always be in my thoughts and prayers.

CHAPTER 1

Descent into Darkness

One beautiful spring day in 2001 in Las Vegas, I came home from work and found that my wife, Sharon, was already home and had prepared dinner. As usual, we ate dinner with the kids at the kitchen table, and then Sharon and I retired to the living room to talk about our days. Sometimes we would watch Jeopardy or play a game of Scrabble or cribbage. However, on this day, my wife was acting unusual and told me she would rather walk our dogs along a path behind our house.

Our routine changed over the next few weeks, and I noticed Sharon was in pain. When I asked her about it, she described feeling tired and achy from the waist down and said that the pain was increasing. I thought the pain might be because of our walks and the new exercise routines after dinner.

Two months went by, and her pain got worse. Deep-heating rubs like BENGAY and other ointments designed to help tired muscles were not working. Sharon hated seeing doctors, but because of the continued pain, I suggested she go see her personal physician, who was female.

Sharon’s doctor asked her several questions and took a number of tests, only to tell her that she could not see where or what the problem was. The doctor prescribed pain medication.

Sharon explained to the doctor that she’d had a troubled life since childhood. Her first marriage had lasted nine years, although she’d only lived with her husband for the first two years because he’d beat her. He had been in and out of jail numerous times during their marriage. She’d stayed married because Sharon’s mother had always taught her that once you made your bed, you had to lie in it.

Sharon was a religious person, raised as a Mormon. However, after nine years of marriage and four children, she left the church because when she needed help, the church refused to give it.

Sharon also explained that she had been living in Arizona at the time of her first marriage. Because the Mormon church had refused to help her then, she’d joined a small Christian church in Phoenix. Sharon had told its members about her life and her struggles. That Christmas, Sharon had had no job, no money, and no car, but she believed in God. The church had reached out without notice and delivered her four children Christmas gifts, and the visitors had even sung Christmas carols for the family! Sharon hoped that explaining her history would help her doctor understand more about her.

Even with pain medication, Sharon’s pain was increasing. She continued seeing her physician, who still did not know what was causing the pain, where its origin was, and why it was not going away.

By this time, the pain was so bad that Sharon went to other quick-care clinics for treatment. These doctors prescribed more pain medicine to enable her to get through the day. Instead of correcting the problem, the medication compounded it, because she was becoming dependent on the prescription medication and feeling guilty for popping pain pills. Sharon wrote letters to God, asking for forgiveness.

Though painkillers helped relieve some of Sharon’s pain, they were not solving the problem. After three months, Sharon’s doctor told her she could no longer prescribe painkillers and was going to have to refer her to a specialist. She referred Sharon to a male specialist; however, Sharon did not trust male doctors. She knew she had no choice, so she visited the specialist.

The new doctor ordered several more tests, and the results came back conclusive that Sharon needed a hysterectomy. According to the doctor, it was normal for her to feel this way, as she was approaching forty and experiencing a change in her life.

The new doctor scheduled Sharon for outpatient surgery and said she would begin feeling better in three or four weeks. Yet three or four weeks later, she still had the same pain in the same places.

Sharon had a short temper; she felt the doctor had lied to her. She went to the doctor’s office to confront the doctors and caused a tremendous scene, telling the waiting patients that the doctors had lied to her. She said they had made her feel worse and that she was still not getting any better after having a hysterectomy. The doctor’s staff, hearing this, hurried Sharon to a back room to speak with the head physician.

The doctor asked what the problem was. She told him she was not feeling any better even though her uterus was gone. The doctor responded by saying that this operation took time to heal. Sharon left the office crying and feeling wronged by the doctors.

After a few weeks, the pain increased. Sharon was having a hard time walking and standing up straight, and she was complaining more about increased pain in her lower back. We decided to make another appointment with a back doctor, who took more x-rays.

The x-rays showed that Sharon’s number-five and number-six lumbar vertebrae were pinching together and that the disk had slipped. The doctor showed her an x-ray of what her back should look like and then showed her the x-rays of what her back did look like. He told Sharon she needed surgery to correct the problem. The doctor explained that the surgery would involve a four-inch incision in front, and then he would turn her over for a ten- to twelve-inch incision on her back. He said he would do the procedure in one day but was not sure of the recovery time because every patient healed differently.

Sharon came home and told me about the procedure. She said the way the doctor had described it had made her feel as if she were a piece of meat. He was just going to slice her and then sew her back up. Sharon was not happy about all the cutting the doctor would have to do.

We wanted to wait to make a decision on the surgery, and during this time, Sharon became emotionally stressed and addicted to the painkillers. On weekends, Sharon would go to twenty-four-hour urgent-care clinics to get more pain pills. I became agitated with her to the point where I did not know what to do. We argued all the time. Though it was not easy, we kept peace in front of the children. Her pain and keeping peace became a continuing problem.

Sharon distanced herself from me and started gambling. One of her favorite games, video poker, was her escape from the problems she was facing. While I was working, she would sneak out to various casinos, where her quarter machines became dollar machines. I was unaware she was sneaking out to gamble. Our marriage became strained, and we fought frequently, saying words to each other we did not mean. I prayed to God for help in the situation, and I felt there was not a lot I could do or say. There are casinos everywhere in Las Vegas, and if a person has a gambling habit, it is an easy match. Although I thought of moving, Sharon would never agree to sell the house. It was her security blanket.

Sharon and I decided to refinance our house because of the equity we had in it. This would help lower our house payment and reduce our credit-card debt. It seemed to be the right thing to do. When we tried to refinance the house, we were declined because our debt ratio didn’t meet our income. It was then that I asked for a copy of the credit report and discovered that we were showing too much debt. I did not understand, because I was working two full-time jobs and had paid off all the debt I knew we had.

On the credit report, I saw that more than $40,000 in withdrawals had been taken out on various credit cards in Sharon’s name. She would then use her paychecks to try to pay them off. Until then, I never knew Sharon had any gambling debt.

Before all of the medical and gambling issues surfaced, Sharon and I had already been having marital troubles. We tried working on our marriage by going to the little neighborhood bar and grill at least once a week, where we would shoot pool and eat chicken fingers. On the way home, Sharon would start an argument, which usually had to do with nothing. One time, she snapped and hit me over the head with a beer bottle, causing blood to stream down my face. I grabbed her hair to keep her from hitting me again.

When we got home, I went into the bathroom to wash off the blood. Because the kids had seen us fighting, one of them called the police. I decided to leave the house before the police arrived, as things were heated. I then returned around one o’clock in the morning, and I went to the family room to lie down, only to be awakened by a knock at the door. It was the police, there to arrest me for the domestic dispute that had happened hours earlier. The police took me to jail, where I spent three days before being released. On the day before my release, I was served with a restraining order. I was not allowed to be anywhere around the house, the kids, or my wife. I hired an attorney, who advised me to agree to six months of anger-management classes, after which he would take the case to court. Sharon still had not had her back surgery.

I completed the classes and obeyed the restraining order. My attorney presented the case to the judge. I was sad and upset, and I missed Sharon. I still loved her and was confused with it all. My attorney told the judge that my wife had ignored the court orders while we were separated. When the judge heard the case, she agreed that Sharon had not complied. The judge told Sharon that she should be ashamed of herself for filing a restraining order against me. She lifted the restraining order and allowed me to return home, with a warning not to touch my wife or cause any additional problems. My attorney said the charges were dropped, and he advised me to get a divorce. I told him I needed time to think about it. The attorney advised me to file soon because the divorce court would side with me on the house because of how this domestic case had played out. Being a Christian man and still in love with my wife, I was not ready to go through a divorce.

Upon arriving home, I went to the family room to sleep. Sharon approached me in the family room and said, Brad, I don’t know why you came back home.

I said, Why wouldn’t I come home? It’s my house too. It was then she admitted having slept with two different people as one-night stands during our separation. Sharon said she could understand if I didn’t want to stay at the house.

Sharon and I had gone through worse than this in our marriage and both decided to try to make it work. She had signed up with a gambler’s help line during the separation and was receiving treatment for her gambling problem. I had nowhere to go and decided against following my attorney’s advice to seek a divorce. I stayed and worked it out with Sharon, believing that with God’s help, we could make our marriage work. We had gone through a lot. Except for her health, things were getting better.

Sharon was working for a bank full-time. One day, a customer, a man in his eighties, came in and told her she looked as if she was in tremendous pain. Sharon replied yes and told him she was supposed to have back surgery and was not happy with the doctor. She explained that her doctor made her feel like a piece of meat because he was going to cut her up. Sharon said she was still deciding what to do about her back pain. The old man responded with a little smile and dance and said, Look at me! I am in my eighties, I had back surgery, and in six months, I am feeling great. I do all kinds of fun things in life. Sharon asked who his doctor was. The man gave her the name of a doctor at Surprise Hill Hospital and told Sharon to make an appointment.

Later that night, Sharon told me about the man she’d met at her bank. Sharon believed he was a messenger from God and described his approach and what had happened. I told her to make an appointment and said that together we would see the doctor. The new doctor was attentive. He took notes as Sharon explained the pain she was feeling, and he reviewed the x-rays. He said he agreed with the first doctor’s diagnosis. He also told Sharon that an old car accident or an injury when she was younger had caused her back injury. He explained that he would make only one incision. The doctor cautioned her by saying, I do not know if I can one hundred percent restore your back, but I am sure that I can get you eighty percent better. The doctor told Sharon that she must have faith in the operation. He told us to go home, discuss it, and make a decision when we were ready.

Sharon and I decided together that this doctor seemed to be the better of the two. Sharon told me she had made up her mind and was going to have the second doctor perform the operation. I asked her why she’d decided to let this doctor operate. She responded, The doctor told me I needed to have faith. Sharon felt that this doctor knew God and believed in faith. We prepared all the insurance and disability paperwork and made the surgical appointment for August 2001. On the day of the surgery, I accompanied Sharon to the hospital. The staff checked her in, and the doctor performed the surgery. Following surgery, she was moved into recovery in the ICU wing. It was there that Sharon caught pneumonia. She was coughing a lot. As far as the surgeon was concerned, the operation had been a success and he could sign off as treatment completed. Sharon was placed in another room during the night. She kept asking me when she could go home, and I said the doctors had not released her yet because of the pneumonia and because they had to perform some more tests.

When I came in the next morning, Sharon was not in the same room she had been in the night before. She had been moved into isolation, where I would only be allowed in the room in full hospital garb, covered from head to toe. I asked why, and the nurse told me that my wife might have tuberculosis. Apparently, a man with tuberculosis had ridden a Greyhound bus from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. They thought Sharon had caught the disease from him. The hospital wanted to be careful not to spread the disease.

When I entered Sharon’s room, she kept reaching for things she thought were flying above her head. She was reacting to her painkiller medication. I went to find the chief of staff of the hospital to lodge a complaint about Sharon’s care. I explained that the back surgeon had signed her out to go home almost two days ago. The chief of staff said he would get back to me with an explanation. Sharon told me she believed the hospital was going to kill her. When moved to a private room, she kept hitting the call button, but no one answered at night. She begged me to take her home and said that if I didn’t, she was going to walk out of the hospital. I tried to get her to relax and explained that I was waiting to talk to the doctor.

A lung specialist from the hospital came to see me after the chief of staff spoke to him. The lung specialist told me that when my wife had had her back surgery, they’d noticed from some of the prior tests that she had white blood cells traveling through her body. He ordered a PET scan test, thinking she might have cancer. Our insurance would not pay for the test because Sharon was in the hospital for back surgery.

I told Sharon what the doctor said. Sharon was angry because the nurse wouldn’t acknowledge the call button, and she was not going to listen to the hospital staff anymore. Sharon was upset and demanded I take her home. She repeated her fear that the hospital was trying to kill her. I asked the doctor if he could sign the discharge papers, and he said yes, as long as I would set up an appointment to have her tested for cancer. I told him I would make the appointment in a couple weeks. When I got Sharon in the car, she thanked me repeatedly for getting her out of the hospital. She was happy to be going home and thankful for what she had in her life.

When we arrived home, I told Sharon we were going to the doctor’s office for a PET scan. She had reservations about the test and just wanted to get better from the back surgery. Although Sharon did not want to go to the hospital again, she agreed to take the test three days later, after the doctor’s office called and said our insurance company had approved the test. I drove Sharon to have the PET scan. The doctor told us that the results of the test would be available in about a week.

At that time, the doctor’s office called and informed Sharon she had lung cancer and would have to have an operation right away. I was stunned at the news. Sharon was angry. She blamed the hospital for giving her cancer. The doctor said they would try to remove all of the cancer. However, if they could not get all the cancer, they would also have to remove the lung. The doctors could only make that decision during the operation.

My wife was hesitant about entering the hospital for a third time that year. We did not know if Sharon should undergo this type of treatment for lung cancer. We called the American Lung Association and the American Cancer Society to get their advice. The American Cancer Society told us that this was a current accepted procedure for lung cancer. We asked the American Lung Association whether having only one lung would shorten Sharon’s life. I explained that my dad had lost one of his lungs fighting the war in Okinawa, when the enemy poisoned the river water he drank. When I was twenty-one years old, my dad died as a disabled veteran after having one of his lungs removed. The American Lung Association couldn’t answer the question. Still searching for answers, we called my aunt, who lived in Wisconsin. She told us that several of her friends had died of cancer and that it could be a really bad thing. She also said that the decision would be up to Sharon because it was her body. No one else would make that decision for her. Sharon and I decided to wait a couple days before talking about it. She made me promise not to tell the kids her diagnosis was cancer.

On September 11, 2001, Sharon was still healing from back surgery. We found ourselves watching the news that terrorists had attacked the New York World Trade Center. She said, What is this world coming to? We watched in disbelief.

Soon after the September 11 attack, Sharon asked for my opinion about the surgery. I could only say she already had two surgeries in a year, and this would be her third. At least we knew now what the cause of the pain was. I just prayed she could get better. I reminded Sharon what my aunt had said about cancer. Sharon told me she’d decided to have the surgery. She started scheduling the dates for the procedure. Sharon wanted to go back to work before the surgery. She wanted to get her life insurance ready. Sharon wanted things to be normal in her life and wanted to live one day at a time. Sharon kept life normal and calm during the month.

We had no children together, and three of Sharon’s four grown children had moved out of the house to a nearby apartment. We received a phone call from Sharon’s oldest daughter, Peggy. She said a gang member had beaten up her younger brother, Brian, who owed him money. Sharon and I found out the three kids were bringing friends to their apartment and smoking marijuana. The gang member had broken Brian’s jaw, crushed several bones in his face, and left him for dead. I told Peggy to call the police. Peggy said, No police, and hung up. Peggy called us again, saying she and her older brother, Willy, would go get Brian and bring him over to the house.

When the kids arrived at the house, we could see that Brian was in bad shape. We feared he might be bleeding internally, and his face was swollen. We thought his jaw was broken. We called the police, and an officer came out to take a report. He asked Brian, Did you learn your lesson? This is what happens when you hang around the wrong homeys. We tried to get Brian to talk to the officer, but he wouldn’t. He was afraid of retaliation from the gang member. The officer turned to Sharon and said he was going back to work and there was nothing further he could do. I asked the officer why he would not take a statement and file a report. He replied, It is your son’s fault that this has happened to him.

I said, Excuse me. Before you leave, I would like you to stand next to Brian so I can take pictures of what he looks like with you and your badge number. I can then report you to internal affairs. The officer changed his tune and said he would make a report. The officer drove Brian and me to where the incident happened. Brian would not help the officer; he was afraid to show his face in the police car. All he did was tremble and hide behind the seat. The police officer took the report, gave us his card, and dropped us off.

The next day, Sharon took Brian to the hospital in Henderson, where x-rays showed several fractures in his face. The doctors said he would also need to see a dentist, who needed to rewire his jaw to keep his face from becoming crooked. Sharon drove Brian around for all his appointments. She did this while she was recovering from her recent back surgery. I asked her why she was doing so much and not getting the rest she needed. Sharon replied that she felt she had to do this for her son even though she was tired.

CHAPTER 2

When a Loved One Dies

In the meantime, everyone in the family continued to carry on with his or her day-to-day lives. Sharon had still not told the kids she had cancer. The days dragged on, and every one of them seemed like a challenge. I was just trying to keep it all together. Sharon continued refusing to tell the kids about her cancer. The pending surgery hovered in the background of everything like a black shadow. I know it felt that way for Sharon as well. I frankly don’t know how she was able to hide her emotions as well as she did.

A few days later, in the afternoon, Sharon’s oldest son, Willy, and his fiancée came over to announce that they were getting married. All Willy wanted to talk about was his wedding gift. He was trying to figure out how much it was going to cost him to get into married life. Sharon and I had told Willy that we would purchase a living room set for their wedding gift. Sharon was annoyed at Willy for only talking about where to buy his wedding gift. She was still recovering from back surgery. Sharon was also bothered that the other kids had not visited much since her back surgery. Sharon’s youngest daughter, Marie, was fifteen years old and still living at home. She knew that her mom was not feeling well, but her siblings seemed not to notice. She spent a lot of time helping her mom at the house.

During the conversation with Willy and his fiancée, I could see that Sharon was extremely upset. I felt it was time Willy knew about his mother’s cancer. We told Willy how we’d found out that his mom had cancer. Shocked and not knowing what to say, Willy decided it was best that he leave, as he could see that his mom was angry with him. After he left, Sharon vented her anger by saying how selfish Willy had become. We had not raised him that way.

Willy told his sister Peggy about his mom’s condition. Peggy was hurt by the news. She immediately wanted to talk to her mom. Upon seeing each other, they began shouting at each other. Peggy was angry because Sharon hadn’t told her about the cancer right away. Peggy told her mom she would never talk to her again if she continued being secretive. Sharon promised she would never keep any more secrets from her kids again.

Sharon’s cancer surgery was scheduled for October 25, 2001, and we were living one day at a time. The Friday prior to surgery, at about ten o’clock at night, a phone call from my ex-wife awoke Sharon and me. Lucy said my only son, Steven, had walked into his grandmother’s house and found her lying on the kitchen floor. My mother, Helen, who was seventy-nine, was being transported by ambulance to the hospital. When my mother was admitted to the hospital, she was in a coma, and the doctors declared her brain dead. She had apparently suffered a massive stroke.

My brother, Nick, called after hearing the news and asked me why I was not allowing the hospital to remove Mom from life support. I told them I was not convinced she couldn’t make a full recovery. My sister, Mary, who could not make it from California to Las Vegas until the following Monday, wanted to see her mom alive before anything was done. Sharon suggested that we both go to the hospital to see Mom. I asked Sharon if she was sure because Sharon and Mom did not get along. She still wanted to see her, so we left for the hospital.

When Sharon and I arrived, we could not find my mother’s room, so we asked a nurse where she was. She said that because the hospital was full, we would find her in the emergency room. My mother was unconscious, so I asked the head nurse whether Mom could hear me. He said yes and walked over, calling her by name, telling her, Your son is here. He then motioned for us to talk to her.

Sharon told my mother that she was sorry this had happened, and she gave her a kiss on the forehead. I leaned over, grabbed her hand, and said, If you can hear me, squeeze my finger. When she squeezed my finger, I knew she could hear me. I told her not to worry about her grandson, Steven. I told her he would be okay and promised I would make sure of it. She squeezed my finger even harder.

Steven and his grandma were close. I had not been a big part of Steven’s life between the ages of fourteen and nineteen. He was getting in a lot of trouble, and his mother and my mother thought they knew what was best for him. On the way home, I thanked Sharon for going to see my mother. Sharon and I both had problems with my mother and ex-wife and their decisions regarding Steven.

On Monday, I went to the hospital to meet with my sister, Mary. After consulting other relatives, she and I decided that it would be best to allow the hospital to remove Mom from life-support machines. The