Two weeks after the robbery she picked me out of a lineup. I went to trial. I had a good lawyer, yet I was found guilty. I was given three years to life. I felt like I died that day.
It was a cold clear day on January 20th I was on parole and was just released three months prior. I was staying with my brother Mike. I needed a car and a place for my girlfriend Debbie and I. I was selling small amounts of dope. Business was slow and my habit was getting bigger every day. I was at the point where I wasn’t going to be able to sustain. I needed money badly. There was a bank a stone’s throw away from the house. It’s in the perfect location. I rode my mountain bike. I parked behind the bank on the other side of the fence. I was higher than a kite, so I didn’t care if I got caught. I waited my turn in line. I didn’t have a weapon. I handed the nice teller a note, she read it and started putting money on the counter, $5,600. I put the money in my jacket pockets and walked out of the bank. I rode that two miles back to my brother’s house in well under five minutes. I bought a car, rented an apartment, and bought a TV and stereo. Nobody saw anything at the bank except the one bank teller. Two weeks after the robbery she picked me out of a lineup. I went to trial. I had a good lawyer, yet I was found guilty. I was given 32 years to life. I felt like I died that day.
