Within the Shadows of Life

By Richard Tabler

This book is about how I made a mistake in my life and am now paying for that mistake that could very well cost me my own life. It's about growing up unwanted and unloved by some in my family and how I ran amok doing anything and everything from a very young age. It's the story of my own life and the guilt I hold within myself from some very stu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cadmus Publishing
• Release date: Dec 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637511275

Richard Tabler

Richard L. Tabler is an individual that made serious mistakes in and throughout his life before finding the strength to write his own first book, "Within the Shadows of Life", in 2021. Those mistakes have cost him his freedom, and pain and suffering for others. It wasn't until Mr. Tabler turned 43-years-old that he was able to forgive himself and love himself to fully accept Jesus Christ into his life and heart. It's through the Grace of God that he is able to write the book you now hold in your hand and that those in society live and care about Mr. Tabler's voice as he suffers from survivors' guilt here on Texas' Death Row.

Book preview

Chapter One

I was born on Monday February 5th, 1979, at 9:20am in the Visalia Community Hospital in Visalia, California. My parents are Lorraine C. Lee of Kingston, Jamaica and Robert W. Tabler of Glendale, California.

I have three older siblings named Greg, Sean and Kristina, throughout of my whole family I only know about my older sister Kristina and my mom. Robert and my two older brothers and I have nothing to do with each other nor do we really know anything about one another's life. I never felt any kind of love from Robert or my brothers. It just was never there nor the feeling of being accepted when I was younger. Around the age of 12 my parents got divorced in the superior court of Modesto, California on August, 6th, 1991. From that point on I would start to bounce back and forth between the two of them. When I was living in California, I would go to both Turlock JR. High and Turlock High School's, though I would never finish school there. Instead, I ended up getting mixed-up with the wrong crowd and doing drugs at a very young age. It's at this point in my life I would blame my parents for not giving me the love I needed nor the proper direction in life. Robert was always doing things for both Sean and Kristina while they were living under his roof. My oldest brother Greg, I didn't start to know about until years later because when he was born, he was placed for adoption, which would be luck on his part though he would never know it. It was always Sean and Kristina who had Robert's full love. Kristina was bought a little red car and Sean got, not one, but two motorcycles.

Let's talk about that right there, so you can see what I’m talking about. Sean was given by his dad (I call Robert his dad because he never acted in any way shape or form like a father to me) a red and black with white 1989 Kawasaki Ninja 600R Motorcycle. I remember this one well because one night while staying over at my best friend's house way out in the country named Adam Enos. His mom had driven me home and when I went to go into my bedroom my brother Sean was asleep in my bed. I woke him up when I came in and took notice that he was wearing a sling around his left arm area. That's when I found out that he had tried to run from the police out in the country, and while going around a bend in the road had lost control and wrecked. He totaled his bike and when the cops caught up to him, they slowed down to ask him if he saw a guy on a motorcycle fly past this way. He told them it was him and that he was hurt. Did he go to jail? Nope. Went to the hospital then his dad came and got him and that's how he got to be in my bed. Two days later a tow truck showed up at our house to drop off what remained of the motorcycle. Sean totaled that bike and was lucky to walk away from the wreck. Not three months later though, his dad bought him another 1989 Ninja 600R this one white and black. Whenever my brother or his dad would ride this bike in and around town, they thought they were the shit. I just wanted to feel that same love some time in my life, that wantedness from others. It didn't really matter that I wasn't getting the material things because at the time that wasn't important to me. I was just a kid. When Robert got tired of having me stay with him and my siblings, he sent me to stay with my mom, who was living in Fort Myers, Florida. While I was there, I attended for a short time Fort Myers Middle School. Before she too would get tired of having me and send me back to Robert. This isn't how any child should feel while growing up, and it’s sad to think about how many kids are still going through this same thing in their young lives even now. After being sent back to California, I started doing whatever the hell I wanted to do. I had no direction and nobody cared about me so why should I care about myself and what I was doing. There was only one time that Robert did anything for me that was something I really wanted. When I was 16 years old, he drove me to Sacramento, California so I could attend the motorcycle training course. This is something you have to do in order to get your motorcycle license, also known as your M1. Throughout the course they train you on Kawasaki's little bikes. You learn that 70% of your stopping power is done by the front brake and the rest by your back brake. A motorcycle is nothing like a bicycle. Where your brakes are up by the handle bars. There are so many parts to riding a motorcycle. Once you start the bike after placing it in neutral, you'll notice when your there when a green light shows by your gauges. Once there sitting on your bike, your left hand controls the clutch and your left foot controls you’re shifting down by the left peg. Your right hand controls your front brake, your throttle and your right foot down by the peg can relax! Back brake is down by the right foot peg. Of course, you have turn signals and everything, but learning to ride a motorcycle right is one of the greatest things. Once I had learned these things and how to control my bike and ride safely and had passed the schooling, I was given my certificate and I took that back to Turlock and went to the local DMV to take my driving course for my car license. Passing both I now had my M1 and my driver’s license at 16 years old. The one thing Robert never knew about me though, was that I had been racing dirt bikes with friends, so I knew how to ride long before that.

As for learning how to drive a car, I knew the basics, but it was my sister Kristina who took me out one day and taught me how to drive a stick shift. Who would know that her teaching would come in handy to her little brother and his life of crime as a driver? Not much longer after I had my M1 my older brother Sean and I got into a fight. I had been doing some things I knew I shouldn't be, like stealing from my brother and his dad (money) and using it for drugs and to buy things I wanted. Sean had come home and caught me and instead of telling his dad, he made me go outside on this rainy day and start digging a hole in the ground while getting rained on. At first, I was okay with it because I had got caught. But after he had made me dig it and fill it in over and over and over again. I thought he was just being a dick and told him to fuck off. Mistake. I saw my brother snap in front of me and he changed. See, Sean was bigger than his little brother, I was just this skinny kid and he was this football player and the guy screwing all the girls kind of dude. He didn't put his hands on me so much as he started choking me. I didn't fight back, I just let him do it cause one I didn't really want to live anyhow, and two what would be the point? Once he saw that I was about to lose consciousness though, he let me go. I got up and looked at my brother in a way that spoke volumes without having to say anything to him. He knew that that ended the two of us being called brothers. I vowed I would never love my brother after that nor would I ever do anything with him or for him. (Years later, that would change only one time).

The next day while Sean was at school CSUS (California State University Stanislaus) and his dad was at work. I left school from Turlock High early and went home. Stole money from both Sean's bedroom and his dad's, then walked out and into the garage. Took the key for Sean's Ninja off the hook, placed the bike on its center stand then placed it in neutral and started it up. Letting it warm up, I opened the garage door then went inside and put on my jacket and grabbed the tank bag for the bike. Went back out to the bike and placed the tank bag on it then took it off its center stand. While sitting on it, I put on my gloves and helmet, put it in first gear and left. My first stop was the local gas station to fill the tank. While at the gas station and getting gas I also bought myself something to drink and some snacks for my trip. Caught the freeway which is known as Highway 99 and went south down to around Bakersfield, California before catching and cutting over onto Highway 15 and into Mojave and through the desert of South Eastern part of California and into the end of the Sierra Nevada desert before going into Las Vegas, where I found out that my mom was now living. She had moved a few months before after getting an offer from a friend of hers to become a part owner of a restaurant called Flame and BBQ, located at 1770 S. Rainbow Blvd. While staying with my mom after showing up on her door step with a stolen motorcycle and nowhere to go as a runaway at 16 years old. My life got worse if that was even possible. My mom was dating this guy named Terry Brotherton, who was a rent-a-cop working at one of the casino's there in Las Vegas. He was a big dude that enjoyed drinking and cheating on my mom. My mom you need to understand is a tiny thing at only about 5'4. She has always had a great heart, but she knew deep in her heart and soul that she couldn’t take care of me and that is why she left me early on to live with Robert and my older siblings. She too had a hard life growing up when she was younger and living back home in Kingston, Jamaica. I just didn't know this until I got older. Terry would soon come to introduce my mom into a new way of living that would take serious effect on her way of living and would have devastating effects on my own life. During my first two weeks in Las Vegas, I did nothing but ride the bike around and take in the sights of Las Vegas. I met a lot of guys and girls who would meet down on Las Vegas Blvd on Friday nights and talk shop about their bikes. They would also meet up at Red Rock and do their illegal races against other bikes and sometimes against cars, each of which were souped up just for racing. I started hanging out with this group of people, some who were cops and some that also worked and were stationed at Nellis Air Force Base and others that worked at the casinos. A couple of the cops and the fella's from Nellis taught me how to do standup wheelies on the Ninja. One of the girls that would be there all the time and racing the guys and sometimes their cars had a Kawasaki ZX10 and taught me how to race and shift properly. One day when she was to meet me and she knew I was a runaway, she gave me a leather jacket, pants and boots. She explained to me that if I was going to ride right, I should wear what would protect me should I crash. She said I owed her nothing but to remember her and she said that she too went through a rough life like I was going through before she joined the Air Force. Her name was Amber.

After a couple of weeks staying with my mom and her boyfriend, Terry. I was told that I would need to start going to school if I wanted to continue living with my mom and Terry. I ended up being enrolled at Sunset High School West over at 2832 E. Flamingo Road there in Las Vegas. What a lot of people didn't know was that Sunset High was a school for troubled assholes like myself. There were as many guns, knives and drugs at this school as any other. The thing is it didn't matter where I was going to school, it never took long for me to leave it. School just wasn't my thing. Next thing I knew I was doing illegal racing and then getting into trouble with the cops in Las Vegas. One night while riding with friends and on our way to downtown Las Vegas, we stopped at the local Honda Dealership. It was while we were all there that I got to talking with one of their mechanics in the back. As the two of us were talking he said that he had another bike that he was selling or was willing to take a trade for. He had been looking for a 1989 Ninja and I explained to him that I had one of these sitting out front. We walked to the front of the dealership and I showed him the Ninja. He asked what I wanted for it and I said let's take a look at the bike he was talking to me about. We walked back to the back where we were and he motioned me to the side. Around the corner was this bright yellow and chrome 1992 Suzuki Katana 600. Upon a closer look and talking with the mechanic I learned that he had just placed a 1989 GSXR 750 motor within the frame of this Katana 600. It bolted and lined up perfectly. Everything about this bike screamed racing. There were so many illegal parts that wouldn't pass a DMV testing for riding it on the streets. I told him that I would trade him if he wanted to do so right now. The only thing was that the bike was in my older brother’s name back in California but I'm sure we could figure a way out to get this done. He said no problem and we walked inside and before leaving the dealership I was the proud owner of this new bike and he was the owner of the Ninja!

Once we all got downtown, we decided to take a ride up to Red Rock in an evening race to the loop that comes out at Blue Diamond. As we were racing up the straight away towards Red Rock outlook, we were all running pretty much side by side up the street. Just as we were passing the last parts of the city and getting ready to start into the mountains and parts of Red Rock, I noticed that everyone was slowing down. That's when I looked over my shoulder and saw the cops! I started to slow down by down shifting, but then I got the great idea of trying to out run them up into the mountains. I had been in 4th gear and was slowing when this thought overcame me and I down-shifted once more into 3rd, before rolling the throttle and taking off. Shifting up through my gears and making it to 5th gear before having to down-shift for a slow sweeping left turn up into the mountains, coming out of the turn, shifting up into 4th then down to 3rd again before catching another straight that allowed me to reach 5th gear before a tight right had me dragging my right knee-puck on my leathers. Only to come screaming around that turn and have to apply my brakes while forcing myself into the upright position because the cops cheated. Right in front of me was the Las Vegas Police Department Helicopter sitting in the middle of the road. I pulled to the side of the road where when the cops behind me caught up decided to slam me against the hood of one of their cars and scream at me how stupid it was for me to try and run from them up through these mountains as just last week, they had another try the same thing only to run right into a jackass (donkey) crossing the road in front of him. They spent hours picking up parts of his body and his bike from the crash site, while the jackass got up and walked away!

Once the officers cooled down and they found out that I didn't mean any serious harm as everyone once in their life tries to run from the cops, they decided to let me go, but not before calling my mom at her work and explaining to her what had happened. Before they hung up from talking with her, they handed the phone to me and she went off on me, before calming down and explaining that the cops were going to give me the chance I had wanted by running; but if I lost my bike would be impounded and I would be taken to jail. When I asked her what she was talking about, she said the cops would explain it to me as it was their idea, then hung up on me. I gave the cop back his phone and asked what he and my mom had been talking about. I was told that since I wanted to race that they would escort me back down the road and at the straight away that they had first took notice of all of us coming up. We would stop. From the turn down into the city we would set up side by side and race to the first light where the rest of the cops would be sitting and waiting for us. The deal was if I beat him to the light, they would let me go, but if I lost, I would go to jail and my bike impounded. This was only because they had just gotten the new chevy Camaros in that they were using as their cop cars for chasing drivers/riders that ran from them and they haven't had the chance to test them out yet. I was thinking to myself yeah right, you guys are full of shit and I'm going to jail. Once we were all back down by the said straight away, the cop's pulled to the side of the road, and while looking way down towards the end I could see that they were serious. The road was free of all cars and bikes to the first light! That shit was crazy as I was only 17 years old now! There was one thing on my bike that I too had never tried out because there was never any real place to try it other than the drag strip. This was one of the reasons that the mechanic had also traded me and why he had a better motor placed into the Katana frame. Under my seat was a valve that was connected to a bright blue canister that was mounted on my right back swing-arm (under my seat, I mean that where I sit, yet on the outside not directly under). On this canister are the letters NOS. The mechanic had been building my bike before I came along, just so he too could race it (illegally). I couldn't run it on normal fuel and had to pay more for the higher/costly JP fuel that came in a blue can. Please note that while the cops had been explaining to me what would take place, they had never stopped to really look over my bike and were always on my left side, even when I was up in the mountains and pulled to the side. Thus, they never saw the NOS canister. As I’m sitting on my bike I had been debating if I should use the NOS or not. I decided to use it and set about reaching back and down to open the valve on the canister. Once this was done, I told myself to relax as best I could. Right next to my left hand by where I grab my clutch was another button that would give me my hit of NOS when the time was right. Placing my helmet back on and making sure it was snug, I waited for the cops and the one cop I would be racing down. Once he and I were both ready, another officer down the road flashed his lights, this was for us to get ready. I placed my bike into 1st gear and smoked my tire, while the cop did the same. Then we were both ready. The cop down the way flashed his lights again and we both took off. From 1st gear through to my 3rd gear the cop and I were neck and neck, as our speeds are hitting into high 90's. I start to pull away after hitting 4th and then 5th gears, just after shifting into 6th gear my speed is showing 140mph. It’s now or never as the cop is about two and half lengths behind me. I hit my NOS button. To say that I smoked the cop would be an understatement. I won hands down no questions asked, but I lost more than I won. At the end of the road and at the light there's a gas station and it was there that my friends had been waiting for me. When I got off my bike and placed it on its center stand, I was shaking like a leaf and refused to get back on it to ride it home. My friends and I loaded it up into one of their trucks and we drove to a friend’s. That thing scared the shit out of me! It would be weeks before I got back on it. While I wasn't riding or going to school, I had gotten a job at All Air which was this place that installed air conditioners on huge homes and at casinos. I was taught how to drive and work a crane and lift, but again for reasons back then I couldn't sit still or hold a job for long. I left and through a friend that worked at this one casino started working at New York, New York Hotel and Casino in the gamming room for the kids. It was around this time that my friends made the offer to me to go up to the State line and the casino there for some fun and maybe a race. So, I went with them. For reasons unknown to me at the time, once we got to the State Line and casino, I called my mom. At the time we were living at 1836 Winners Cup.

Chapter Two

Things Become Worse

We were having a blast on our way to the State Line and Casino, just fucking around and poppin' wheelies and goofing off with one another. When we were there, I made the telephone call home to my mom to check in with her, something I didn't do often. Instead of my mom answering her phone or her boyfriend Terry, her best friend Sheila answered, and the first thing out of her mouth was, Richard, your mom is alright. I had stepped away from my friends in the parking lot to make this call home, and now I could hear myself raise my voice as I asked Sheila what she meant my mom was alright. In fact, I remember telling her to put my mom on the phone, only for her to say that my mom couldn't come to the phone. What the fuck?! I hung up on Sheila and walked over to my friend's and told them that I needed to get home as fast as possible because something had happened at home with my mom but nobody would tell me what. I just knew that it was something bad and needed to get there. As I was walking away one of my friends that was stationed at Nellis Air Force Base ran to catch up with me and told me to take his bike. I asked him if he was sure and he said yes. We traded keys, and I told him to go ahead and race my bike if he wanted. It’s got a full canister of NOS and the tank is almost full itself. His name was Chris