"The TrUtH is not for all men, but only to those that seek it." - Ayn Rand

On cell block E3, in Montgomery County’s correctional facility, I met a wealthy Indian man and a German-American anarchist with a beard down to the top of his stomach.  His abdomen was typically sweaty, always hairy and contained a ‘six pack’ from the anger crunches he would perform on a daily basis.

 

‘UA’ (pronounced OOH aH) was doing a long stretch of time and, at some point along the way, had decided to stop complaining, stop fighting violence with violence and start learning.  And learn did he do.  It was the best decision he could make considering the circumstances.  Learning, about himself and the world around him, was his enemy’s (the state's) greatest fear.  His life was on the line and he was locked in a cage.  His captors were offering no easy way out.  

A young man with a history of drug use and violence had decided to educate himself and those around him.  He had decided to be a leader, NOT to create more followers, but ONLY to create more leaders.  Josh(UA) was a rare breed, and he continually preached his newfound knowledge to any lost soul he could find along the way.  With his current housing situation, Josh would quickly realize it was not difficult to find interested lost souls in the bleak, dark surroundings.  It was also blatantly obvious that the state wasn’t offering any help beyond AA meetings and time in the yard.

His path was defined on E3 as he sat and people watched from the water fountain.  There were souls he felt bad for and wanted to enlighten.   Others he would stare at with disdain and pure hate, knowing they were using their knowledge for evil.  A few souls he would connect and bond with through the journey itself.

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I met Josh and I felt enough positive energy beyond the beard and incredibly wide upper body to be comfortable talking to him.  Other than the fact that you stay with your race in jail, it was obvious to me that UA was one of the ‘whites’ that would stand up for another.  At the current time, the Muslim population on our block was outnumbering the whites by a great margin.  A race war was slowly bubbling up towards the surface like a pot of water on a stove.  E3 was a pin drop away from chaos multiple times throughout those tension filled months.

In the middle of the unnecessary drama and bullshit stood UA, our Indian friend - (We’ll call him ‘The Light'.)  Dice - The black male that kept his violent-hungry people humbled.  And, myself - The young, lost soul that didn’t belong in jail, more likely grad school.

UA sat across from me at lunch a day or two into his time on E3 and heard me humming the words to an Oasis song.  “Damn shame those guys broke up, huh?” he said, barely matching my eyes as he devoured a very important and calculated amount of calories off his tray.  “Yeah, for sure,” I responded cautiously.  It was a short conversation that let me know he was not as crazy as he looked, and that he was interested in having someone to chat with on the block.

A few weeks later:  Josh found me by the television,  "So, do you want to go ask the new Indian guy stuff about his home land?”  I looked up, tickled that this was a serious question, curious as to where it would lead and happy as hell to have something to do.  “Yeah, sure.”  The Light was new on the block and Josh was incredibly interested in learning whatever he could about the fascinating country of India and its inhabitants, culture and economy.

A few months later and the three of us had started a friendship and a book club.  We were ridiculed at first, but by the end of our time we were turning away potential club members.  It was simple; read the same book and meet up to go over a set amount of questions in order to spark good conversation.  We allotted time for each question and kept the entire meeting organized.  The Light was happy to have two real friends, UA was excited to learn and teach and I was officially strapped in to the roller coaster that would become my life from this point forward.

A month after my release, I was walking home from Gypsy Saloon, the job I acquired upon my discharge into society.  I noticed a license plate on a car that was parked upon a snow covered, Rebel Hill.  The license plate reminded me of one of the first titles we discussed during our E3 book club.  ‘Ayn Rnd’ is what it read.  ‘Anthem’ was the book.  I smiled and snapped a photo.

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Fast forward to today:  The first day of my new blog.  The book I wrote on E3 with inspiration from the Light and Joshua is going to print as I type this post.  Here I sit an entirely new man than before incarceration.  Yet, incredibly the same.  UA will be home soon and the Light has found his own way, leaving a trail of knowledge and experience behind him.  The story starts here; the blog starts here.  The three of us have taken on the burden of knowledge and truth.  We’ve taken an internal oath of principle and morality to keep things real and honest, no excuses.  Consistent, humble, honesty.  The only rule is golden growth with love at the helm.

I need my readers to know that this is where my journey of writing began, amongst the worst of the worst.  Amongst the meathead correctional officers and the rules they blindly follow for their masters.  Amongst the robbers, drug addicts and unjustly charged.  It began in a dark corner on a metal desk, with a cup of Joe, a set of headphones and four words, “Erin Casper - drug addict.”

I’ve told my potential investor one thing above many, and that is this, “You give me the pen, and I’ll do right by the word.”  My honesty may scare some and shock others, but it needs to be known that this is me diving in to the journey. 

Let’s not judge.  Let’s read with an open mind and an open heart.  Let’s remember; thought, feeling, action, in that order.  Keep your thoughts positive and grow the seeds of emotion strong with a good perspective.  Good action should always follow.  This blog is for everyone in the world, not just you, the specific reader that thinks they know me so well. 

I love you all.  Let’s begin…