I’D Give My Right Arm

By Jeffrey Dale Wapp

This is a true story of the horrific impact an inadvertent use of an addictive drug had on my life over the period of nearly half a century. My story will provide insight into the life of an addict such as you've never before seen. The reason I'm confident you've never read a book such as this is because people who do the things I've done don't live to tell about them. Only by cheating death more times than any man has a right to have I remained alive long enough to be able tell the complete story of what addiction can do over the course of an entire lifetime. My personal experience and exposure to murder, disease, betrayal, amputation, and immeasurable loss of life will surely make you think of what can happen if you decide to try an addictive drug. My hope is that whosoever reads this will wisely take heed and not repeat the mistakes I've made.

I wrote it to all audiences and especially believe it should be read by every teenager in America.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781546201496

Jeffrey Dale Wapp

Jeffrey Dale Wapp is a man with a vision, dedicated to changing the destiny of those unaware of how dangerous it is to imprint the effects an addictive drug in the emotional and pleasure centers of the brain. As in his case, and other genetically predisposed individuals, a one-time use to satisfy the curiosity as to what it feels like, is all it takes to destroy a life. He willingly has put his life on display, exposing his mistakes, as a prophetic warning and example of why abstinence is the correct life-choice.

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© 2017 Jeffrey Dale Wapp. All rights reserved.

Feel free to contact the author at: [e-mail]

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/28/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5462-0150-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-0149-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017911526

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.

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.

CONTENTS

1958 FIRST MEMORY

1959-61 BROWN DEER SCHOOL KINDERGARTEN

- 2ND GRADE

1959 THE PLAYGROUND

1959 FIRST KISS FIRST FIGHT

1959 THE MEANEST TEACHER

1959 FIRST EMBARRASSMENT

1961 CUB SCOUTS

1961-1965 ICE SKATING AT THE BROWN DEER

PARK PAVILION

1959-66 FRANK THE NEIGHBORHOOD KID

1962-64 LIFE AND TIMES OF A 3RD-5TH GRADER

1964 GOOFING OFF

1964 THE APPLE THUMPING GANG

CHASED BY AN ANGRY MAN

1966 THE APPLE THUMPING GANG

CHASED BY THE SHERIFF

1966 THE APPLE THUMPING GANG

CHASED BY THE TOWN

1967 THE FIRST TIME I TOOK AN ILLEGAL DRUG

1967 THE IMPACT OF DIVORCE

1968 HIGH SCHOOL

1969 CHOOSING NOT TO FIGHT

1969 GOING SOLO

1969 THE TRAIN AND THE TEST OF COURAGE

1969 THE FIRST TIME I TOOK LSD

1969 POLICE BRUTALITY AND MY FIRST

ARREST

1969 A BUMP IN THE ROAD

1969 THE SECOND ARREST

1969 ANYTHING GOES

1969 WHAT LED UP TO RUNNING AWAY

1969 ON THE RUN

1969 EVIL IN DISGUISE

1970 ATTACKED BY A PEDOPHILE

1971 NEARLY KILLING A STATE PATROLMAN

1971 ENLISTING IN THE ARMY

1971 ARMY ENLISTMENT RUINED FROM THE

START BECAUSE OF DRUGS

1971 GETTING HIGH IN BASIC TRAINING

1971 BRUTALLY BEATING A MAN

1971 GETTING HIGH WITH MY SERGEANTS

IN ARMY SCHOOL (AIT ADVANCED

INDIVIDUAL TRAINING)

1972 MY FIRST SHOT

1972 ORANGE SUNSHINE AND THE RAZOR

BLADE

1972 FRAMED

1972 A GREAT OPPORTUNITY AT THE NEW POST

1972 THREATENED BY GERMAN DEALERS OVER

TURF

1972 ARMY DISCHARGE

1972 MY FIRST KILL

1972 QUAALUDES

1974. DECISION OF A LIFETIME

1975 STARTING SCHOOL

1975 SCHOOL MONEY

1976 THE HEART OF AN ATHLETE

1976 THE GREAT MISTAKE

1976 THE THEFT

1976 PASSING BAD CHECKS

1976 SHOOTING IN TRAFFIC

1976 ATTEMPTED MURDER

1976 FACING PRISON TIME

1977 HOSPITALIZED AT THE VA TO TREAT

ADDICTION

1979 FIRST JOB OUT OF SCHOOL

1979 TAEKWONDO: PEACE AND CONFIDENCE

1981 MIRACULOUSLY ESCAPING DEATH

1986 GROCERIES OR CRACK

1986 RUSSIAN ROULETTE

1986 LOVE AND THE RELAPSE AFTER 8 YEARS

1986 DRUGS AFFECT WORK

1986 MURDER FOR REVENGE

1986 MONEY AND A NEW START

1986 PURCHASED A MOBILE HOME

1988 BOUGHT SAMMY

1990 HELL ON EARTH: AN OPIATE WITHDRAWAL

1990 EXPERIENCING A HURRICANE

1990 COCAINE : A LIFE CHANGING DRUG?

1990 SHOOTING AT GHOSTS

1992 STABBING MYSELF

1994 HOSPITALIZED FOR COCAINE ADDICTION

1994 THE TRIP BACK TO WISCONSIN

1996 RETURNING TO CRACK AFTER 2 YEARS IN

A CHURCH CULT

1996 THREATENED WITH A KNIFE IN

CRACKVILLE

1996 GOT A 45 OR A 38?

1996 THE PIANO MAN

1996 BURNT

1996 GIVING UP MY CAR FOR A FEW ROCKS

1996 LOST IN THE GHETTO

1997 STOPPING THE USE OF ILLEGAL DRUGS

1999 HEPATITIS C CHEMO

2004 THE HIGHWAY HOBO

PROLOGUE

My early life began with all the advantages. Our picturesque home was located directly across the street from the main entrance of a beautiful Wisconsin County Park. In our living room was a huge 6' by 4' window which faced the park called the picture window. With it’s breathtaking panoramic view, we could see the park’s country club nestled amidst a forest of maple and evergreen trees. This setting provided a wondrous backdrop for our family home.

Due to my Father’s modest upper middle class income during one of our country’s most prosperous times, we were financially for want of nothing.

My father’s name was Louis F. Wapp Sr., my mother’s was Roberta L. Wapp, and my brother’s name is Louis F. Wapp Jr. As a family, we attended church every Sunday and lived together in relative harmony. Louie and I were both in the Cub Scouts, the Webelos, and the Boy Scouts affiliated with our local Methodist Church in which we were confirmed.

With Louie as the pitcher, myself as the catcher, and my father as head coach, we came in first place in the local baseball league.

With such a storybook beginning, how could I possibly have ended up a victim of attempted murder, clinging to life in the back of my car? The miracle of my survival, compelled me to write this book as a warning to those who are thinking of trying a dangerous drug.

1958 FIRST MEMORY

My very first memory is of kindergarten class during sleep hour at Brown Deer Grade School. The recollection is of myself and the entire class lying in rows on big stuffed animals of every type imaginable catching 40 winks.

1959-61 BROWN DEER SCHOOL KINDERGARTEN - 2ND GRADE

1959 THE PLAYGROUND

Perched on the edge of our seats, with every eye in the classroom glued to the clock, we’d watch the second hand slowly creep around the clock face waiting for the alarm to sound to release us for lunch and recess. We knew to the very second, exactly when the bell would ring. This made every second’s passing seem like hours.

No matter what the season, rhyme or reason, we were kids, and fun was the word for the day at recess. In the wintertime we played king of the mountain on a huge pile of snow that came from clearing off the blacktop. Fifty years ago there was much more snow throughout the winter to play in and we made use of every bit of it. I can still see the kids struggling to make it up the slippery slope, being tossed back down to the bottom only to get back up and try to reach the top again. Survival of the fittest and the law of the jungle clearly applied. The bigger and stronger you are, the better the chance of taking the top and holding it.

If by chance you obtained the prize, as conqueror for this moment in time, you’d stand proud and give a loud Tarzan yell, and beat your chest challenging all comers to try and knock you off, if they’ve got the guts.

The boys would of course, test the limits of what they could do at the swings by getting the swing to go as high as possible without dropping out of the seat. We’d literally make the main bar of the playground size swing–set bend so far that it looked like it was going to snap in two. It wasn’t proper back then for girls to do the things that rough and tumble boys did that might get their dresses dirty. In fact, all the girls in school exclusively wore a dress, never jeans or pants. When they got on the swing, they were the perfect picture of femininity. Most girls played hopscotch and jump–rope and were completely oblivious to what went on at the swings.

On the blacktop in the summer, we’d play four square which was four kids selecting 4 adjacent squares forming one larger square. One person would start the game by serving the ball to any one of it’s 3 opponent’s squares. The square the ball landed in, would hit the ball into one of it’s 3 opponent’s squares, and so on, until someone missed. Whosoever missed was out, went back in line to wait for another turn.

One of the reasons I remember this game so well, is because while playing one day, I had an unexpected surprise. I believe that all men can remember this Hallmark moment in their lives when their eyeballs pop out from getting hit the first time below the belt. Despite the possibility of having your breath knocked out of you, and nearly passing out from pain that will curl your toes, I loved the game and continued to play it with a healthy respect for the damage a bouncing ball can do.

Another game we played every day, weather permitting, was kickball which was simply baseball played with a big rubber ball. At the age of six, nothing could rival or even come close to the pride and exhilaration of kicking a home run and running around the bases with all your friends shouting and cheering you on.

One guy had a rather unusual name that almost sounded like belch. What’s even crazier is that he was the kid with the greatest amount of talent to give the longest and loudest belch I’ve ever heard before or since. The entire yard could hear him when he ripped one off.

We played every day right up to the bell. When the bell rang, we’d immediately quit playing and get in line quickly, calmly, quietly, and efficiently to go back inside. Believe it or not, there was no acting up or foul language ever.

Somehow the threat of being spanked made kids obedient and respectful of their elders. We followed the rules in part because the punishment might be applied with the use of a belt. If a child used foul language or was disrespectful to a teacher, they’d be sent home with a letter to their parents describing what they’d done requiring a signature to get back in class.

The most important reason for behaving was that we really wanted to impress our parent’s with how good we could be. In turn, parents would make it known to everyone that they had a good child. In life, one of the best feelings in the world is to know that your parents are proud of you. It would have been nice to get any kind of recognition or congratulations from my parents, but that’s not what happened. Neither my father nor my mother ever recognized anything I did. Just being my parents I guess, their love was implied, and that was that.

1959 FIRST KISS FIRST FIGHT

I’ll never forget my first love. I couldn’t keep my mind off of her whenever we were in class together. What made her even more special than just the first girl that awoke my passion for the opposite sex, was that it was fortuitous that it was to be with this lovely seductress of 6 that I would to steal my first kiss. The name of the girl that held my heart in the palm of her hand was the beautiful name of Diane. What I can’t remember is what I said and did to get her interested in me. In fact it was so successful, I would have loved to have been able to use it in future conquests of the fairer gender.

I hadn’t taken any time to plan our little rendezvous. It just happened. Diane and I kind of looked at each other and knew in some strange way what we wanted to do. When recess came, we met at the side window to the school. When no–one was watching, we jumped into the window well and gave each other a big kiss. After the passionate embrace that lasted about 1 second, we jumped out and went our separate ways. Later I was even asked to come play at her house, in her bedroom no doubt. Of course, the visit to her room was completely innocent. Nothing more happened in the romance department. Anyway, guys and girls just didn’t hang around with each other at that time. We were too young to be overtaken by feelings we had that we really didn’t understand anyway. Besides according to all our friends we’d get cooties. Consequently, we broke up shortly after.

My first fight occurred when I was challenged by a guy to defend myself in the first grade. I never knew why this other kid pushed me. But push me he did, which left me no choice but to respond. Due to an unwritten law amongst the male gender that a push can’t go unanswered, I pushed him right back. One thing led to another and it was on. It was the moment of truth. How I reacted was extremely important because it would have a strong influence on how I’d respond in the future. Would I fight and defend my honor, or would I give wings to flight? I chose to fight and found I beat him badly enough that he was the one who ran. I ended up chasing him back into the school building. Later, I found that the boy I beat was 2 grades ahead of me in the third grade. After that my chest was pushed out so far, I looked like a little Arnold Schwarzenegger on steroids. Winning the fight, I’d made a name for myself as a guy that you didn’t mess with. That was OK with me because for all intents and purposes, I don’t like to fight.

1959 THE MEANEST TEACHER

My grade school was comprised of grades K–5. Each entire grade had it’s own classroom with about 30 students. The one teacher I most vividly remember, is of course the meanest and the ugliest. Her name was Mrs. Burner. That’s right! Mrs. Burner. She not only had a harder than nails demeanor, but she also looked so scary that she could be the executioner if the death penalty was ever instituted for children. You never goofed off in her class because the punishment was so severe, the fear of it kept you from ever crossing the naughty barrier. If you required punishment, she’d ask you to stick your hand out palm down, and then she’d rap you on the knuckles with a long wooden pointer. Guess what, it worked. That was how she kept order in the class and I can honestly say she was highly effective. She obtained her desired effect, caused no real physical harm, and kids were obedient. What’s wrong with that? I have trouble criticizing her methods because many teachers today would give anything to have that type of control. And that’s the way it was in 1959.

1959 FIRST EMBARRASSMENT

This day, it would have been better if I would have stayed in bed. That way I wouldn’t have gotten into as much trouble as I did for trying to do the right thing. Instead I was on my way to receive an unfair miscarriage of justice, but on the other hand, it brings a laugh every time I think of it.

First I must say I was never a disruptive influence, and in no way did I ever want to create the stir that I did in class that day. The funny thing, is that it all came about while trying to be respectful of my neighbor and not make a nasty sound in class. As you may have guessed, I had come to school with an upset stomach and gas, and no matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t able to hold it in. In fact my efforts actually made the disgusting sound I generated far, far worse. The hardwood seat and the fact I was in a room so quiet you could hear a pin drop, allowed everyone to hear what I tried so hard to suppress. The truth is, I was never more embarrassed in all my short life.

Not able to contain themselves, the entire class busted out in a resounding laughter which sealed my fate. When the teacher stood up, the outburst stopped as quickly as it began. I did my best not to look guilty, but unfortunately the cherry redness of my face had given me away. With the knowledge that it was I that did the nasty deed, the teacher instructed me that what I’d done has no place in a decent classroom and asked me to step outside into the hall. I was told I had to stay there till I’d spent enough time contemplating what I’d done, and had realized the error of my ways. It was then that I had an extremely important life–changing revelation. What I’d learned was this, if ever I were to pass gas during class, I’d make sure I didn’t do it on a hardwood seat.

1961 CUB SCOUTS

Joining the Cub Scouts was one of the best things I’d ever done for myself. I loved the uniform and the never ending fun we had the moment we got together. The uniform was blue with a yellow kerchief, and had all kinds of colorful patches for each accomplishment. It provided a different way besides school to learn about how to get along with other kids and participate in organized activities.

The very first thing we learned was to look for opportunities to help others. This was taught to us by a task we were given requiring us to do one good deed for someone. After the deed was done, we had permission to turn our Bobcat pin that was being worn upside down, right side up. This indicated we’d become full–fledged Bobcats and had entered the initial level in scouting.

To have my pin turned right side up, I took my mother by the hand and safely walked her across the street. I must have been dropped on my head when I was a baby in order to have done something that goofy.

The object of being a cub scout was not only to experience fun things together with other kids of the same age, but was also a medium to stimulate our thinking and create an excellent code of ethics and morals in us.

During an overnight camping event to have fun, I was inadvertently taught two very important lessons. The first was to think before you act, and the second was not to do something just because you see other kids doing it. I was taught these excellent bits of wisdom by a game we played the first night of camp. The fact it was a particularly dark evening with an overcast sky and no moon, made it a perfect night for it. The tools required to play the game was a paper bag and a flashlight. The object was to catch a little evasive creature that only comes out at night called a snipe. What caught us off guard was that the scout leaders we trusted without question were all involved in playing a little joke on us. Their endorsement of the game made it even more believable, because at that age you’d never expect someone in that position to be anything but completely honest and trustworthy. The instructions were to hold a paper bag open at ground level, and shine a flashlight into the bag through the bottom. The snipes would then be attracted to the light and run right into the bag.

Just about the time I’d found a good spot and was placing the bag on the ground, I began to think it was kind of funny that I’d never seen nor heard of a snipe before that night. The more I thought about it, the more I began to feel there was something not quite right about what I was doing. Then I asked myself, is someone playing a trick on me. I looked around to see if I was the only one left holding the bag, so to speak, and was greatly relieved when I found that I wasn’t the only one that had been taken in. The adults had gotten big kick out of it and were having an immense amount of difficulty containing their laughter watching us call out here snipe while trying to lure an imaginary creature into a paper bag with a flashlight. We all had a good laugh because it was done in good fun. I’d learned my lessons well, and afterwards, never looked at life in quite the same way again with total innocence.

I did learn something unrelated to scouting that was nearly as important, informative, and very serious in nature. It was in the area of preparation, cooking, and consumption of a commonly eaten food which can sustain you if you’re ever far from home on a camping trip. It’s greatly enjoyed and consumed by nearly all people, and guaranteed to take care of any and all hunger pains that strike you before breakfast. What I’m talking about is the art of creating a tasty irresistible pancake. Don’t laugh. The time to flip a pancake can make or break it’s attractiveness to the eye, and how well it’s received by hungry campers. The technique I was expertly taught from an obvious master of pancakeology, was to wait till the pancake batter has just stopped bubbling, and then give the pancake a quick flip. Well, now you know, and the secret is out. Just follow those simple instructions and your pancakes will turn out perfect every time. In addition, you most assuredly will ever be immortalized as the best darn cook that has ever graced a camp grill.

Another great object lesson I learned, was when I on my way to a cub scout meeting. While wearing the proud blue and yellow, I discovered that the colors of my uniform can be very provocative to certain animals.

I was introduced to this privileged information one afternoon after I’d been dropped off by my mother at my Den Mother’s house for our weekly scout meeting. I had but a short walk to get to the meeting and had just begun walking in that direction when the opportunity to learn this great lesson presented itself. Now keep in mind that I was only 7 years old, and all of about two and a half feet tall. Everything in the world appeared immensely huge to me at that time, and especially the shiatsu that came charging down the alleyway at me looking for revenge on the human race. The dog had a flat face with a mouthful of crooked teeth, and an expression so ugly that it would put the fear of God into anybody that had the misfortune of crossing it’s path. Talk about being frightened. The truth is that I’d never really experienced fright until that moment, and if I would have had any choice in the matter, I would have chosen a less brutal method to have been acquainted with the emotion. Prior to this event in my long life as a carefree kid, the only thing I had to worry about was failing the tie your shoes test. When fate intervened and I encountered this scary little animal, it took only a fraction of a second to learn the territorial laws of the animal world. The second I saw him, I turned 180 ° and began running in the opposite direction, and didn’t stop till the sound of barking and growling had completely faded off in the distance. This must have been at least all of about 20 feet, but it seemed no less than a quarter mile to my tiny little legs. Needless to say, I never tread on that same stretch of pavement again. There was no question as