Tuesday, June 12, 2012

How about another excerpt...

...from Jerry Byrne's book, My Road Home? 

Friday June 29th 

In a very short time I have come to discover prison is something akin to a hate factory, with pain & suffering coming at you from all directions. The hate and sadness seems to permeate through the walls like maple syrup flowing through a tree in Vermont. Yes I am here doing the time, but the ripple effect of my crime is far-reaching. I have hurt (and let down) my loving parents along with my 5 siblings. Not to mention the two most important accomplishments of my life, my sons Brooks and Philip, ages 17 & 14. I couldn't have been more blessed, nor ask for more. 

I will certainly have a lot of time for reflection here. I grew up upper middle class & never in a million years did I ever foresee so much as a minute of prison in my future. I began my career on Wall Street in the Fall of 1980, & while I did indeed have many productive years working there, they were off-set by my destruction that inevitably would befall me; the inability to look myself in the eye and say "I can't handle this, I'm not strong enough." Surrounded by 'action' on a daily basis would prove to be too much for me. I could go years and years without the desire to make trades for my personal account, but then something (I never have understood 'what' it was) would toggle a switch in my brain, and off on a binge I would go; throwing hundreds of thousands dollars around recklessly. More often than not, on the losing side of a trade. This sort of behavior went on for years, eventually leading me down the road to divorce, and eventually prison, as I cut one too many corners.

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