It’s Time

Learning to Love & Live In a Free World

Chapter 1

When We Get There

By Steven Walks On The Grass

Hello World! It’s been a while, I know. I missed you a lot by the simple fact that I haven’t had you to talk to but I know that’s okay.  You are still there and I’m still here. For those of you who have read my book, Long Road Home, you know who I was, you know what I was, and you know who I want to be. Let me take you with me now while I become who I will be. Come, sit down. I’ll make coffee and we’ll catch up. I’ll tell you all that’s going on, how I’ve gotten to this very moment.

Right now, I’m lying on my bed talk-texting this first chapter on my phone. I say it’s the 1st chapter but actually it isn’t even a chapter. It’s an invitation because I need you here with me so we can talk and I can tell you all my thoughts and feelings and experiences since my rebirth as a free man learning to love and live in a world that mysteriously changed over the years yet somehow stayed the same. I’ve got a feeling, at least I hope, you’re gonna want to stick around after you’ve heard a bit about how this life is unfolding.

It’s 10 months now that I’ve been “home.” Well, actually less than 3 months since I’ve been “at home” on home confinement. Let me tell you, the whole world still amazes me with its beauty and kindness and in its anger and selfishness and cruelty. But that’s not the part I’m going to talk about. Part of my talk will be about the things that have happened since I’ve been home, the evolution of life with my beautiful Janice from the moment she got here. As soon as I stepped into her arms, we both knew this would be the rest of our stories for the rest of our lives together. This miracle came to pass and we are where we are supposed to be – in each other’s arms. We can’t hold each other tight enough but learning to live with one another is truly enlightening.

If you remember, back in January I enrolled in college. My ambitions and persistent PTSD and OCD caused me to place too much stress on myself in relation to grades and all the silly things that didn’t matter. In chasing academic excellence I almost lost sight of the reason I was there to begin with – to learn. Everything is hinged on tomorrows for me now. We have our own place now. Janice turned an empty shell into a warm and cozy home. In fact, of all the places I’ve ever lived, in all the times in my life before I went to prison, nothing comes close. I’ve never been as comfortable as I am in this apartment just knowing that she’s here or we’ll be back or that I’ll go home and she’ll be there. I can’t tell you what that means; it’s just another shade of love and it amazes me.

I think I talked before about wanting to go into the field of counseling and assistance. That goal has evolved through my human services course in college which required doing community service. So I went into a homeless shelter, told them about myself and explained why I wanted to volunteer my services. “Oh yes! Thank you,” the lady said, “Thank you so much for coming in.” She made me feel like I would be a real asset to their program and said they would get back with me.  Then nothing…not even after I called back to check.

After a few weeks I told my professor about the problem with doing my community service. Of course, I got scratched once they found out I’m a convicted felon and a federal inmate. She understood, said she knew just the people for me and sent me to HUC, Homeless United for Change. I called my contact lady, explained who I was, who had sent me, and what I needed to do. At the time I was able to visit the apartment for a few hours each week, so she graciously agreed to come by with her husband to meet Janice and me and discuss the possibility of my doing community service with HUC. Turned out, they had a feeding coming up at The Salvation Army homeless shelter and they asked me to come and do my community service by taking surveys and interacting with some of the clients to find out what their basic needs were and what needs were not being met.

After my service that evening, taking surveys and helping as much as I could, I went back to the halfway house. The next day, I was offered the volunteer job of Chief Advocacy Officer for Homeless United for Change. This became my new banner, a cause in which I could fight for something that mattered for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. Seems like this is what I’ve always been doing ever since my life changed; I’ve wanted to help change the lives of others. I want them to see the beauty I see in the world – a world that really offered me nothing but s*** up until my release from prison. If that sounds soft, so be it. I am soft. But one thing was not taken from me during 37 years of captivity, 7 1/2 years in solitary confinement, numerous beatings, and daily physical and verbal abuses by prison staff – my compassion for those who suffer – or my hatred for a bully.

Janice and I soon got to know Dave and Linda Gessaman from HUC very well. They are both pastors and have a ministry at a small church in a little town near here. When they invited Janice and me to come to a service, we went and could see what they were doing was wonderful with what they had to work with. Afterward I asked about a music program that didn’t seem to really exist. Yeah, they told me they needed some help. Me being me I asked what I could do to help. Be careful what you ask for unless you’re prepared and you truly want to help. I was and I did. I soon found myself the minister of the music program at the Body of Christ Church, Buffalo, Illinois as well as the Chief Advocacy Officer for Homeless United for Change.

Now to be sure, I’m a Native American and I still practice our traditional ways. I’m outside before dawn every day with my eagle feathers praying to the Creator, giving thanks for the new day and the promise of what the day can bring if we only do the next right thing. The Body of Christ Church didn’t see anything other than a person who was trying to be good and do good, who was likable and helpful. How amazing this was to me! How refreshing, how invigorating, and how enabling to find people willing to give me a second chance before they really knew everything there was to know about the first chance I had totally blown.  I don’t want this to sound like some sort of advertisement for churches or causes or sociological problems or institutions that need reform. I’m just trying to talk with you and tell you a story, even if it is non-fiction.

Since we walked in the door of this apartment, my mom has helped us get on our feet, get things that we really needed. After all, we are starting from scratch. Janice came with what she could bring, that’s it and it was enough for she brought herself back to me! God, how I missed her. It’s now time for a new life to start for us. All the old stuff is just history, maybe not forgotten but definitely forgiven; that’s what love does. It can erase all that came before and make you see what is right in front of you and treasure what you have.

By the way, Betsy, we’ve never met but I know so much of you from someone we both hold dear. I want you to know I’ve been nipping around the edges of starting to write again at the insistence of those who love me, my mom, your sister, and my editor. But your email to your sister in relation to my book is what made me start today. I’ll tell you what I told Janice and my mom, It’s Time.