A Life of Bad Decisions

By Gus Reid

• This is the story of a man who has spent almost 50 years of his life in prison and who is still in prison because of continually making bad decisions. This is his story in his own words. From his childhood, growing up with a violent and evil, alcoholic father, attempting to kill himself at age 14, then killing someone else at age 16, to escaping prison and spending a short time in the U.S. Navy while using a stolen identity. And a few other uniquely crazy misadventures while on escape from prison

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gus Reid
• Release date: Apr 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224570812

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

WHEN TELLING PEOPLE stories about my past, like attempting suicide at age 14, getting sentenced to life in prison for murder when I was 16 years old, then escaping from prison, and while on escape, intentionally sinking a tugboat in a Louisiana swamp and going into the United States Navy while using someone else's name, and a few other misadventures while on escape from prison, I am often told, Man, you ought to write a book about your  life. And I have always responded, I've got way too much more to do in my life before I can start writing any books, plus I don't know anything about writing books. Well, I still don't  know anything about writing books but my future is not looking like it's going to be very  promising or busy from here on out. I am now in my mid 60's and I'm back in prison, still serving the same life sentence I received in March of 1975.

The Parole Board considered me for parole in June of 2014, denied me, and told me that they will not reconsider me for parole again until June of 2031, when I am 73 years old. So now, I'm thinking, this is a great time to write a book about my screwed up life and all of the stupid and foolish decisions that have caused me to waste almost 50 years of my life in prison and now, here I am, an old man, still in prison.  Like I said, I know nothing about writing a book, but with technology today and this contraband cell phone I managed to get smuggled in, I hope I will be able to get my story written, published and read by as many people as possible. I also hope that anyone that reads my story, will get some benefit from it one way or another, like appreciating their life and all the choices they have made, good or bad. Plus, anyone who is experiencing depression in their life, I hope after reading about my struggle with depression and how I fought my way through it, they will find a way to get through theirs.

My story is mostly about my inability to make good decisions. It seems like throughout my entire life, whenever there is a decision to be made, I will usually make the worst one. Especially if it is a serious, life altering decision. It's not that I am stupid, I just do stupid things making bad decisions.

CHAPTER ONE

Iwas born and raised in Macon, Georgia. Macon is a medium size town about 70 miles south of Atlanta. We were a family of 7, my parents and 5 of us kids. I was the middle child. I had a brother and sister older, and a  brother and sister younger. I was also the rebel of the family. I was constantly getting into  trouble and getting whipped. (We didn't get spankings, we got whipped). It seemed like at least once a week my dad was whipping me for one reason or another. My most memorable whipping was when I was about 5 years old. My dad  had a tub of water on the stove he was boiling for some reason or another, and while horseplaying with my brother, I accidentally  knocked it off and onto myself, burning myself pretty badly. The pain from that whipping  was very memorable  because my skin was still bubbling and peeling as it was happening. At least he did allow my mother to take me to the emergency room. All the rest of the whippings after that were no big deal compared to that one. The  first time he started using his fist on me was when I was about 11 or 12. And that was one day when he told me to finish off the rest of his milkshake and I didn't because I was already full. Plus, what was left of his milkshake had gotten warm. He couldn't stand the thought of it going in the trash.  My father was a very scary man. He was a violent and ignorant man that had somehow  convinced himself that he was the smartest, meanest, toughest and most important person in the whole world. He  thought for sure he was the only one in the world that was gifted with an abundance of  common sense. He couldn't read or write, had no education at all, so therefore, anyone  educated was an idiot for wasting all that time going to school. He was the king and ruler of his kingdom and he made sure everyone around him knew it. All decisions were made by him and him alone. No idea was a good idea  unless it was his idea. He was always talking about how great he was and how ignorant  everyone else was. Especially me. One of his favorite things he liked saying to me was, let me ask you this question to show you how stupid you are, and no matter what my answer would be, it was always the wrong answer.  I was never able to win his approval or affection no matter how hard I tried. Eventually, I gave up trying. Or atleast , that is what I kept telling myself, but deep down, I always hoped I could win his approval and affection.

Although my beatings were  frequent, they did not compare to the beatings he gave my mother. I remember a couple of  times after getting drunk, he beat her so badly he almost killed her.

The last time he almost beat her to death was after I had gotten two tickets to a Marty Robbins concert for winning a watermellon eating contest earlier that day. The concert was being held that night at the Macon Coliseum. I gave the tickets to mama because I did not care anything about going to see  Marty Robbins. My dad let her go with her sister Jeannie, who was living with us at the time. He then went and bought his own ticket in without them knowing, just so he could spy on  them. Apparently, he witnessed some guy flirting with my mother and Aunt Jeannie, so when  they got back home, he came real close to beating her to death. Me and my older sister Beverly  had to sneak out a bedroom window and go to a neighbor's house to call for help. If we hadn't,  mama would have bled to death for sure. I remember I felt responsible for it, and wishing I had  never entered that stupid watermelon eating contest. A contest between a group of