On an errand.

On an errand.

It was early on a Saturday morning when I stepped into our little local grocery store. I have visited this little store many times.

The employees who worked at the store all knew who I was and seemed to enjoy my presence.

I think that the employees also knew about my home life and that they felt sorry for me.

I walked to the store that morning, running an errand for my mother. She would send me to the store with two dollars in food stamps.

After buying something for just over a dollar, I would then return the change to my mom. When she had enough change, she sent me back to buy her a pack of cigarettes.

At eight, I was. I knew what was right and what was wrong. I knew the punishment for doing something wrong all too well.

I knew right from wrong, but I did not fully understand it. For sure, I thought the only punishment for doing something wrong was a severe beating.

Three cent candy bars

I did not eat breakfast this morning. I was hungry, and that led to making a wrong decision in the store that morning.

As I walked past the candy bin that was always full of an assortment of different delicious candies, I just could not resist myself.

I slowly put my hand into the candy bin. After selecting my favorite candy bar, one that only cost three cents. I slipped it into my jacket pocket.

Before I knew it, the owner of the store had me by both of my shoulders. He led me into the back office with a very firm grasp on me.

His office seemed dark and scary. He asked me if I had something in my pocket that did not belong to me.

Quickly reaching into my pocket, I turned the candy bar over to him. He lectured me.

He told me I could not be stealing from his store. He was going to make sure that I never had another opportunity to steal again!

Being scared, and with tears in my eyes, I apologized to the owner. I then let him know I was ready for my whooping.

The owner called.

It was at that moment that he picked up the telephone and called 911. I could overhear him telling the operator.

He had an uncontrollable thief in his office. He was not sure that he could have me much longer; he told the operator.

Within minutes of his placing the call to 911, police cars began arriving at the store with their sirens ablaze.

They quickly set up a police command post right in front of the store. Many agencies were involved.

When the police entered the store, they were wearing full tactical gear and had their guns drawn.

My arrest

They carefully and methodically made their way toward me. The canine officers seemed vicious and ready to attack.

Using a bullhorn that was louder than any college band, they gave me my instructions. They told me to place my hands behind my head and interlace my fingers.

They instructed me to get down on my knees and cross my feet behind me. I was told to close my eyes and look down.

Under no circumstances was I to reach for the candy! Let alone make any movement at all.

Before I even had time to take a breath, several officers were pinning me to the floor. Their force completely immobilized me.

They worked together as they applied handcuffs, leg shackles, and ambulatory restraints.

To ensure I would not try to escape their custody. They placed a blindfold over my eyes.

After they were confident that I was not going anywhere, they told me I had to remain silent.

They placed me under felony arrest and transported me to our local county jail in a bulletproof SWAT vehicle.

Unfair judge

I sat in a filthy jail in solitary confinement for years before the authorities brought me before a judge.

The judge behind the bench, wearing a black robe and smelling of liquor, took one look at me.

With a voice full of hate, he said, “You are a disgrace! There will never be a place in society for people like you!”

He hammered on the fact that I was not worthy or had any value in contributing to society. It was people like me who made him sick.

That is what he wanted the court reporters and the media that were present to know.

He quickly found me guilty of shoplifting, and he was ready to hand down my sentence.

It was a whole new kind of punishment from what I knew. I thought for sure they might cut off my hands or something.

The courtroom became completely silent as he said to me in a loud, aggressive, and scary voice.

Sentenced

I sentence you to 95 years in a federal maximum-security prison. Your crime of not understanding consequences is going to cost you!

The community cannot ignore the example you have set for other children.

Not only am I going to send you to a federal maximum-security prison, but your crime deserves a special prison!

A prison designed just for you. You will spend the rest of your life in solitary confinement.

We have built a prison in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle. You will never escape the Bermuda Triangle

They added a moat to prevent your escape. It is full of crocodiles, alligators, and starving piranhas!

It is impossible for anyone to enter or exit.

According to him, the prison’s fencing alone held a thousand times the strength of the most powerful lightning bolt ever documented.

He declared that parole eligibility would remain unreachable. Your sentence starts right now!

A thunderous boom came from his gavel when he slammed it down.

They escorted me back to the jailhouse to gather my toothbrush and one pair of now-dirty underwear.

I could hear the helicopters landing on the roof of the courthouse.

The court was where they met me to transport me to my new prison.

Before concluding, the judge wanted to inform me of one last detail. He said that since I had just turned thirteen, they would feed me ice cream daily until my twenty-first birthday.

Every morning a military attack helicopter would fly over my prison. Overhead, it flew, dropping a single-serving cup of ice cream.

A parachute made of tissue paper would allow it to float down. That was also my toilet paper. One square of single-ply tissue.

The FBI, Secret Service agents, and local SWAT rapidly whisked me away to a helicopter.

They completely wrapped me in shackles, balls, and chains. They placed me on board the chopper.

Just as it was about to ascend from the courthouse rooftop, I received a parachute meant for single use. It disintegrated after its use.

It was not even safe for a military attack helicopter to get close to my prison. Parachuting in was their sole method of delivery for me.

Being a moonless night around two a.m., it was completely dark. You could not see your hand in front of your face. That was part of their plan.

Thousands of feet above my prison, the helicopter I was riding hovered.

I found myself positioned at the helicopter’s emergency exit, thanks to the agents who handled my transport.

Sent airborne by a forceful shove in my back, I was. I landed on the cold roof of that prison to begin my lifelong sentence.

In the center of the Bermuda Triangle, I was, at nearly nine years old. I was in an escape-proof prison.

An escape attempt would inevitably lead to you being at the mercy of the Bermuda Triangle.

It was pointless to even devise a realistic plan for escape.

As the judge had instructed, a cup of ice cream floated down from the sky to the prison the next morning.

The ice cream served was not simply a cup. It was a little cup that had a little wooden spoon included.

It falls short of being the actual measure for a cup of ice cream. This would be my daily diet for the next eight years.

The world kept me from books, correspondence from loved ones, a radio, phone calls, and any means to stay informed about the outside world.

Being entirely cut off from the world was my experience. People considered me a complete outcast and a danger to society. No one would welcome me anywhere.

In that prison, the only thing that kept me from losing my mind was my imagination.

I let my imagination turn into an imaginative thinking process. If you think about it long enough, you will verbalize it.

To create something out of nothing, these two ingredients are necessary. Think about it, speak it, create it!

I studied the stars at night to occupy my time, as I lacked books or a TV.

I spent the day studying the tides, winds, and the warm updraft breeze characteristic of the Bermuda Triangle.

It made no difference whether it was day or night.

I would document when it would be overhead, the phase of the moon, and the amount of illumination that reflected off the sea.

I learned the entire annual cycle. The only thing I had to study and learn was my environment.

Sometimes the ocean tide reached its peak. I could almost hear life outside of the walls, the fences, the alligators, crocodiles, and piranhas.

It almost felt as if I wasn’t really all that alone. I would daydream to keep my mental health in focus.

I could disconnect from where I was thanks to this.

A realization about the ice cream being given to me dawned as I aged slightly.

It would become extremely sticky, especially if you left it out for a day or two. As if by magic, it had become a type of superglue.

It occurred to me that the cups for my innumerable ice creams were required to be waterproof.

If the ice cream melted in its cup, it would not leak out. Both inside and outside, a wax coating covered the cups.

You can make anything waterproof by applying wax.

Each of the little wooden spoons accompanying my ice cream cups was very light and featured a curve at one end.

The curvature got the perfect bite of ice cream. These little spoons were as sturdy as they were lightweight.

Is there any chance of this happening? I thought to myself whether it could be done. I had to try, so I developed a plan.

With great insight, I knew exactly when the wind would be perfect. I knew exactly when the ocean tide would be at its highest point.

I had to wait for a full moon directly overhead. Its illumination would guide me.

There had to be a perfect blend of high sea tide and warm southerly updraft breezes that blew through.

I knew from my research that these elements only aligned with each other once every three years.

My next opportunity to get everything I need will arise in about four months.

On February 9th, 1972, the trio will come into alignment. If I’m not ready, I would have to wait an additional three years.

Without hesitation or thinking about it twice, I began a crusade for freedom.

I was aware of when the alligators and crocodiles would take a nap. I knew their everyday habits of seeing them for quite some time.

An electric fence would not work well with wax. A plan for me to escape is becoming a reality!

Gathering all my ice cream cups, I collected them. Many of them had little rolled-up balls of ice cream.

Glue in the real world couldn’t match the stickiness of these ice cream balls.

After they mixed with the wax from the cups, they became completely waterproof.

It was over the next couple of months that I brought all the ice cream cups to the roof of this inescapable prison.

Then, I ascended and descended the many flights of stairs multiple times. I was retrieving the little wooden spoons that I had saved up over the years.

I had stored them in the prison basement to keep them pliable.

For hours, I would sit on the rooftop, meticulously gluing thousands of ice cream cups. I prayed I had enough little ice cream glue balls to complete the job.

I was hearing unfamiliar sounds coming from the sea below, but l did not have time to investigate and hoped it was a school of friendly migrating whales.

After that, the little wooden ice cream spoons became my focus. They were so much harder to work with.

I had no choice. To succeed, I’d need to be patient and stay focused. If I could not do that, there would be no pending escape attempt from me.

February 9th was just one week away for me. Everything was wax-coated and 100% ready.

Missing this upcoming opportunity would mean waiting three more agonizing years before I could attempt to gain my freedom.

I was also skeptical that the helicopters that delivered my ice cream would spot that I was up to something and put a stop to it.

With great excitement, I sat in my ocean-proof raft in the early morning of February 9th. We were perfectly fit.

All I had to do was wait. I knew it would be after sunset when all the elements would align perfectly.

I knew the gentle, warm winds would pick up soon.

At 10:00 p.m., observers expected the moon would reach its fullest and place itself directly overhead.

The ocean tide would reach its highest point at 10:05.

The perfect updraft wind, if my studies are correct, would flow directly over this inescapable place at precisely 10:08 p.m.

Assembling my wooden ice cream spoon kite happened later in the afternoon.

Gluing together individual wooden ice cream spoons took me hours. Each spoon was concave for scooping ice cream.

This also made for a perfect high-flying kite. I designed my wooden kite not to conduct electricity, much like my wax-coated raft.

My imagination, now having developed into a foolproof plan, offered a way to escape the inescapable.

People should not hinder my imagination, as it creates solutions.

I could use this unique thinking process to create positive change. But first, my plan had to work!

I planned to sit in my ice cream cup raft atop the rooftop of the place that condemned me.

I would then lift my 16-foot-wide wooden spoon kite above my head as the perfect updraft wind blew through.

My studies and calculations have led me to conclude that lifting myself far above the impassable electric fence is necessary for protection from its shock.

The wind should blow long enough to carry me at least a quarter mile away from my prison.

Gradually, the wind gained strength. The full moon illuminated the surface of the sea, just as I had expected.

The highest point of the ocean tide was being reached. I felt as though someone was speaking to me from outside those walls.

For six years, I consumed ice cream before arriving currently. It was 10:00 p.m. I was excited.

Waiting, I could hear the wind growling in the distance. A potential ticket to freedom.

As it hit 10:07, I perceived the wind’s proximity to the unfairness of a place established for a child who had made a mistake out of hunger.

Freeing me would be karma, and karma alone. The only thing left for me to do was believe in myself and in my abilities to create the perfect plan.

Now 10:08 p.m., the wind I had expected had finally blown.

I took one last look around this horrible place for the last time.

I was sitting in my ocean-proof raft, holding my wooden spoon kite low to the ground. As the wind spoke to me, it instructed me to take flight.

With outstretched arms, I hoisted the homemade kite I’d made from little wooden spoons high above my head.

And just like that, the strong updraft Atlantic breeze easily lifted me and my raft high above the prison.

If the electric fence is far from its electric power source, you can easily clear it.

Like tiny raisins, the attacking crocodiles and alligators swimming in the moat appeared as I happily waved farewell.

This flight stands out as the best I’ve ever experienced.

After easily carrying me over everything that had confined my entire life, the updraft wind subsided.

I lost altitude as predicted, and the wind guided me gently to a landing on the Atlantic Ocean’s surface.

A half-mile away from what nearly destroyed me, I landed. I was in the center of the mysterious and famous Bermuda Triangle.

I developed a plan to escape the confines of my prison and experience freedom for the first time in my life.

My focus on that led me to make a gigantic mistake.

My ice cream spoon kite should function as a sail for my raft.

Once my wooden spoon kite became wet and waterlogged, I realized it would be useless, something I hadn’t considered.

I did not even think enough to make a pair of rowing oars.

My plan had worked to perfection and helped me escape. But now I realized I had a whole fresh problem.

Alone and adrift, I was in a location that is among the scariest on the planet.

Even scientists could not explain the Bermuda Triangle’s prominent victim count.

The triangle might focus on a new victim.

I was floating around the Atlantic Ocean with no ability to either steer or propel my raft across the ocean.

Fear overcame me. It was one thing that I wanted t

o avoid. You cannot think as clearly when you are afraid.

Little air bubbles originating from the sea floor then surrounded my raft, compounding the problem.