When I was 15, I ran around with an older friend from the neighborhood named Clarence, who was 22 or 23.
One December close to Christmas, he went to the county jail and had an extremely high bond. On the 23rd, another older friend of ours sold a car he had for a nice profit and decided to use some of the money to bond Clarence out so he would be home for Christmas.
He paid the bond on Christmas Eve, and we waited outside the county jail for Clarence to be released. But getting out of jail in Harris County takes forever. After waiting for a few hours, my friend who paid the bond kept getting calls from his wife. It was Christmas Eve, and understandably she wanted him home with her and their kids. He had to leave, but I said I would stay.
So here I was, 15 years old in the cold, sitting outside the county jail at two in the morning waiting on Clarence to be released. They did not let him out until around three thirty AM. Now we had to get from the county jail to our neighborhood. First we tried to call a cab, but at three in the morning in downtown Houston that was not happening. City buses had also stopped for the night.
So we had to walk. Although it was now Christmas morning and cold as hell, we laughed and told stories about the holidays and our families the whole way. For me this is one of my fondest memories because it is about the power of friendship. Friendships that have been vital to me throughout my incarceration.
