Chapter 12: Trial By Fire
In the meantime, I was facing the very serious threat of bankruptcy and having my club shut down by the city of Arlington. I found out that the unreasonable noise ticket that I got on February 18th could be up to $2,100! The police came by several times a week to harass me. It seems that our good friend Norman had rallied some neighbors to help call the police every night. But he wouldn’t let that stop him; he made time in his busy schedule every night to call the police himself as well. The cops would come by on nights when we were closed and say they were there for noise complaints. They would come by on nights that were all acoustic... for noise complaints. They even came by one night when we had a power failure for a noise complaint.
Some of the cops started catching on that it was getting ridiculous, but they were under orders from above. If a cop started becoming too friendly to us they were transferred to a different beat. I know that sounds paranoid, but that is the way it happened. I had to find a way to defend myself form this injustice, so I looked into the law...extensively. I posted copies of the law all over my club: in my office, by the sound booth and monitor board, by the front door, by the back door, backstage, and by the concession stand. The law on unreasonable noise says that:
“A noise is presumed to be unreasonable if the noise exceeds decibel levels of 85 after the person making the noise receives notice from a magistrate or peace officer that the noise is a public nuisance.”
To put that in perspective a starter’s pistol is 150 decibels, a chainsaw is 120 decibels, a leaf blower is 110 decibels, a lawn mower is 95 decibels, a baby crying is 110 decibels. These are all measured right next to the source. However, in this case the noise has to be 85 decibels at the point of complaint. In other words it has to be 85 decibels a mile away at the guy’s house who is complaining. The first ticket we got the cops acted like I was an idiot to own a music venue and not own a decibel reader, so I bought one. We did tests.
Here is what we found. With the doors of the club open, standing ten feet away from the building, our PA only put out 85 decibels when it was so loud that you couldn’t stand it. At our normal volume it was only 65 decibels ten feet away from the building. So, then we walked to the back of the property, and the property behind ours. By the time you got that far you couldn’t hear anything at all. It wouldn’t even register on the decibel reader at all. Nothing! So then we got in a car and drove a mile and a half to Norman’s house. Since we couldn’t hear anything we called and had the PA turned up. We never heard anything. Just as I suspected it was never about sound at all. It was about prejudice. We brought freaky looking people to our place and it scared the powers that be.
The next time the cops came out I told them about our experiment and I asked if they would walk to the back of the property and drive to the neighborhood that was complaining. The cop, Lonnie W., was resistant at first, but finally agreed. He left two other cops with River to make sure that we didn’t play with the volume while he was gone. He only did that because I insisted that he leave someone to make sure we weren’t being deceitful with him. We walked to the back of the property and he said, “You are right you can’t hear anything, but let’s go to the neighborhood.” I agreed.
We drove in his car to the neighborhood. It was funny to watch him squirm. First we went to Norman’s house and parked the car. No noise. Then he rolled down the windows. Still no noise, then he turned the car off. Nothing. Then we got out of the car and walked closer to the club. Nothing. Then we got back in the car and drove somewhere else and did the same thing. After the third stop he said, “Do you hear that?” I said “no, unless you mean the airplane.” We waited for the airplane, and then some cars to pass, then a train went by, then the crickets were chirping.
Finally there was a lull in absolutely everything and he said, “Now, do you hear it?” I said “I suppose if it will make you happy, but no, not really. The guy lives under one of the busiest airports in the world. At any given time there are 14 planes within eyesight. He lives right off a road that has 150,000 cars a day drive on it. He lives 200 feet away from railroad tracks that have 4 trains an hour barreling through. There are birds and lawn mowers and crickets and background noise everywhere. And you want me to believe that even though you can’t hear my music at all that I am a public nuisance for unreasonable noise?”
He looked at me and said “You know what, you are right. This is petty. This is just rich people with too much time on their hands. He had the other cops write down the decibel reading at the time we did the test. He said to me “if you keep the music at this level you won’t get any more tickets. You have my word.” Finally, a cop with a brain. Finally we had won!
Just kidding. That same cop wrote me another ticket less than a week later. He refused to look at our decibel reader or go to the neighborhood. When I asked him about giving his word, he denied ever saying such a ridiculous thing and wrote the ticket anyway. I was furious! That cop was a pastor too. I think he felt bad about writing the ticket and so he backed off a little. As soon as that happened he got transferred and a new younger, dumber cop became the sergeant on our beat. His name was Justin W. (Just to clear up any confusion, I know all these guys last names I am just not writing them so I don’t have to get permission or give them any royalties off this book. So screw you, you stupid cops!)
After the bold faced lies I had been dealing with I decided to start recording my conversations with Arlington’s finest. I bought one of those tiny recorders. We already had video cameras set up all over the place that recorded everything that happened at the club. I was tired of being abused and lied to. I was going to fight back. I had had enough of their crap! I had tried to play nice, but that wasn’t working so I hit below the belt. I knew I didn’t have the resources that they did so I had to be creative.
I wrote a five page story about how Dreamworld had started, what my intentions were with the place, and what the cops and the city had done to persecute me. It was called “Does This Seem Right To You?” At the bottom of the article I put the mayor’s e-mail address and everyone on the city council and the police chief’s e-mail address. I also put their physical address and what their schedules were.
Honestly, I just hoped that someone up high would get on my website and read it and realize that we weren’t what they thought. I hoped that they would just leave us alone. They all read it, but so did everyone else. Every club around put links from their website to that page on mine. Apparently, this is the way that cities treat all clubs. I wasn’t the only one.
Usually they scare them away a lot quicker. A lot of people have addictions or habits or warrants or something that they can threaten with. I didn’t. I am clean. I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink alcohol. I don’t use tobacco. I don’t cuss. I don’t go to strip clubs. I am faithful to my wife. There is no scandal to threaten me with, so they were powerless. Then to top it off I was pleading “not guilty” to the noise complaints and I told the prosecutor that I wanted a jury trial since I didn’t think I would get a fair trial from a judge who was in bed with the mayor and the cops. Since I hadn’t been convicted of any of the noise complaints and I didn’t pay them (which would be pleading guilty) then they couldn’t build a grievance against me or my club.
To top it off I told the prosecutor when she tried to plea bargain with me that “if and when this goes to court I will call every newspaper, radio station, TV news channel, magazine, etc. and personally invite them to witness the trial. I will make it a media circus and the city of Arlington will look like fools in front of the whole country. So, by all means, please give me a trial as soon as possible so I can laugh at you.” She shrugged and said, “Do whatever you want.” I knew she was scared though and I knew it got back to the decision makers. How do I know it got to the decision makers you ask? Because that is when they turned up the heat a little.
My little website article was getting a lot of attention. It was getting about 200 hits a day. Letters and e-mails were pouring in to the mayor’s office from all over the country. I had famous bands that had played at my club writing e-mails. Parents and kids, young adults, friends, other business owners, everyone was writing. It was beautiful! Everywhere I went someone would say, “I read that thing you wrote. I can’t believe they are doing that to you. We are with you, man. You can beat them!” It was great.
I got interviewed for another newspaper article and when I asked what the reporter’s angle was on this story he told me that it was because of the big city council meeting tonight. I had no idea they were having a city council meeting about me. Personally, I think you should tell someone when he is the topic of discussion at a government meeting, but apparently that isn’t the case. Nevertheless, I got all my people together and we went to the meeting that night unannounced. The roster for the evening said:
1) Public transportation in Arlington
2) Noise complaints at Dreamworld
It didn’t say noise complaints in general or at nightclubs or any other vague statement. It said noise complaints at Dreamworld! Of course, I wasn’t notified. As you have probably already noticed I remember the cops that come out to my place. I learn their names. I pay attention. Some cop got on the stand that I had never seen before and testified that the manager of Dreamworld was completely unwilling to cooperate with the city and that he recommended that it be shut down. He proceeded to say that there were repeated cases of drugs and underage drinking at Dreamworld and that the place was a nuisance to the city. I sat and listened for a while and then from the crowd I said, “That is a lie!”
The whole crowd was shocked. They all turned and looked at me. A lot of people started whispering. Someone came up and whispered in the mayor’s ear. He stopped the whole meeting and said “It is my understanding that the manager of Dreamworld might possibly be in the room with us tonight.” I raised my hand and said, “I’m right here.” He pretended not to see me and asked if anyone knew whether or not I might be in the room. I repeated myself several times before he acknowledged me.
He asked me to take the stand and swore me in. I started to tell of the injustice of the whole situation and then said how much I had already done to try to remedy the situation. That I had built more walls and put up more insulation. That I had meetings with the neighbors, the police, and the press. I started to tell him what else was going on and he simply said, “I’ve heard enough. You can sit down now. Thank you.” I didn’t ever get to finish defending myself, but I had stopped the mock trial that was going on. The best thing was that it was all on TV so everyone saw it. Everyone was shocked that I had spoken out of turn. I was shocked that they were going to believe a lie like that without even letting me defend myself.
Several weeks went by and I tried to have a meeting with the mayor and the chief of police and the city manager. They were all too busy to see me. It was amazing that I was the top priority in the town as far as the police were concerned and a big enough deal to have a city council meeting about, but they couldn’t find time between golf games to even return my phone calls. And when I went in person and waited for hours they still couldn’t see me. I e-mailed my city council member to try to defend myself.
He said the city didn’t have anything against me or my club and welcomed me to come and present my case before the city council that night. I told him that I would love to, but it was my son’s birthday that night and I had to be at his party at 6:30. Then I invited him to come to a show that Friday night to see for himself that Dreamworld was not what it had been portrayed as. Later that night I got a phone call on my cell phone. It was Dennis, my monitor guy. He said there were cops everywhere and that the alarm was going off.
I rushed up to the club. I passed a cop car on the way there that was leaving my club. When I got there the alarms were going off and the backstage door was wide open. I wondered why my alarm company hadn’t called me yet. I went through the building, but no one was there and nothing seemed to be missing. I called my alarm company to see what had happened. They said that they hadn’t received a signal and as far as they were concerned nothing had happened. They had never called me or the police. If the cops had been there it wasn’t because they had called. I was standing in front of my building on the phone and I saw a cop car driving by so I started waving him down. He saw me and put on his breaks. Then he recognized me and turned the other way. He pretended not to see me. He sped up and drove away.
A few minutes later another cop did the same thing. I was confused. I talked to Dennis and he told me what time the whole thing happened. By this time there was a big group of people all trying to figure out what in the world just happened. We reviewed the video tapes and this is what we found. A cop, who will remain nameless even though I know his name, walked into the front doors. He tried to open both the hallway doors, but they require a code so he couldn’t get in. He walked around to the backstage door and a few minutes later came into the backstage area. The alarm started to sound. We could see the sirens going off up front. He had to hear the sirens, but he didn’t even flinch. He went out of sight for a few minutes and then started to walk out. Then he stopped, reached in his pocket, turned around, and threw something down on the table.
He then left and went to the front doors again. By that time Dennis was there and the cop asked to get inside the office so he could use the phone. A girl who was there at the time offered to let him use her cell phone, but he said it had to be a landline. He insisted on being let inside. Dennis didn’t have a key so after a few seconds the cop left.
We wanted to see what he put on the table backstage, so we went back there. On the table was a baggie full of white powder. One of the guys opened it, stuck his finger in and licked it, and said, “It is cocaine!” A thousand questions ran through my head. Where else had they planted drugs? Dreamworld was huge and there were nooks and crannies everywhere to hide stuff in. They could have thrown a bag of drugs anywhere back in the venue! Then we heard a helicopter circling above us. We heard sirens coming our way. I called Lana and said, “They have planted drugs in the building. They are coming right now. I’m sure they will arrest me. Whatever happens you have to know I am innocent. I am telling you know before it happens. They are framing me.” She got very scared, and to be honest so did I.
I thought for a moment and then I called the cops. They didn’t know I had cameras. They were hidden and small. And they weren’t in the blueprints. I called on my cell phone, which wasn’t listed as a Dreamworld number. The conversation went like this:
“911 emergency”
“This is John Tunnell from...”
“Yes, we know who you are. From Dreamworld, right?”
“At 3102 West...”
“Yes, we know where you are.”
“My burglar alarm is going off and someone has broken into my building...”
“Where did they break in, that backstage door?”
“Yes, how did you know that? Anyway, can I talk to someone in charge?”
I got the sergeant in charge on the phone and he seemed very disinterested in helping me, but he knew all kinds of intimate details about the situation. Finally, I said, “One of your cops broke in my building and planted drugs.” He was very skeptical, but a little cautious. He wasn’t going to do anything about it until I said “I have the whole thing on video tape. Do you want to see it before the press does?” At which point he got scared. He said “You have it on tape?” I reaffirmed that I did in fact have it on tape and he said, “I’ll be right there!” In less than three minutes that cop was at my front door. I showed him the tape several times. It was painfully obvious what had happened. He thought for a moment and said, “There were some phone lines down in your area. I’m sure the officer was just making sure you were alright.”
I disagreed with him and asked to file a report and make a record of the whole thing. He refused to make a report and dismissed the whole thing as inconclusive. After he left, I made copies of the tape and put one in my safe and others in safe places. I thought it was very coincidental that I had told my city council person earlier that day that I had to be at my son’s birthday party at 6:30 and that the cop had showed up at 6:47 to break in the building. I also thought it was suspicious that my alarm wires had been cut and that they were just out of view of the camera in the exact direction of where the cop had disappeared from view for a few minutes. I also thought it was quite a coincidence that all the cops and even the 911 operator knew so much about the crime before they had been told anything.
That Friday we had a show that should have been really good, but was a total flop. Half way through the show I went up to the gas station to get something only to find that the road had been blocked off on both sides of my club so that no one could come or go. I asked one of the cops what was going on and they said that there was a huge gas leak and they had to shut down the road while they fixed the leak. Several things about that struck me as odd.
1) It happened on the night I told my city council man that we were having a big show that he should come and see.
2) Although they redirected traffic and had at least 10 cops and several fire trucks and lots of machinery and personnel no one came to tell me that there was a gas leak just two doors down from me. I had a crowd of people inside that all could have died from an explosion, but no one told me that my patrons were at risk. However, three days earlier a cop was so concerned about our phone lines that he broke in the building to make sure we were all right.
3) I didn’t smell any gas. I know enough about gas leaks to know what it smells like.
You can call me paranoid if you like, but there were an awful lot of coincidences that just didn’t seem right to me. Of course no one would file a report and I couldn’t prove it, and the press didn’t want to piss the cops off and lose the leads to a lot of other “juicy stories”.
About a week later I was leaving Dreamworld at about 3 am. This car was driving next to me and I didn’t think much of it. I sped up a little and then the car next to me sped up as well. I slowed down and so did the other car. It wouldn’t get off of me and the driver seemed to be trying to get my attention. So, I turned and looked at the car. There was a girl dressed like a hooker and she was trying to get me to pull over. She was making gestures and so I just sped up my truck and kept going. She wouldn’t give up, though. She just kept trying to get me to pull over.
I was in the right lane and she was in the left lane. The light in front of us turned yellow and so I sped up as if I was going to run the light. She also sped up. At the last second I made a right turn at the light instead of running it. She ran the light and I was relieved... for a moment. She stopped in the middle of the road, backed up, and started to follow me again. I noticed that she was driving a flashy sports car and that there was a sedan driving behind her the whole time. It wasn’t as obvious until she backed up and followed me at the turn, and so did the sedan!
By now we were almost at my house. I was starting to think “How am I going to explain this to my wife? I don’t want this freaky girl knowing where I live!” I decided to just keep driving past my house and drive around until I shook her. As I’m thinking this I notice that she has pulled up next to me even though we are driving on a one lane road! I stopped at the red light and tried to ignore the fact that this girl was on the wrong side of the road next to me.
She was honking and waving her arms around and so finally I just looked at her. She made an “O” shape with her hand, opened her mouth, and moved her hand back and forth in front of it. She asked if I wanted a blowjob. I was more than a little shocked. I shook my head “no” and looked the other way. Just when I thought I would have her chasing me for the rest of the night, she pulled in front of me and drove away. The other car followed her.
In some places that may be normal, but not where I live. That is the only time that has ever happened to me. I drove home and told Lana about it as soon as I got there. She was asleep and didn’t seem to care that much. It seemed to me that the whole thing was a set-up, a sting to try to get me to fall. The cops had already tried every way they could to put me out of business. I think they figured that any guy given that opportunity would fall for it and so they could say that an “All Ages night club owner was caught soliciting a prostitute.” Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows? I know that cops do stuff like that all the time. I know people abuse their power for personal agendas all the time. And it is common knowledge that the police don’t like me ... and that I don’t like them.
The sad thing is that when we opened Dreamworld we tried so hard to work with the city and all its authorities to make Arlington a better place. None of them would even talk to me. They had their prejudices about me before I ever began and they were determined to watch me fall, even if they had to push me a little so I would fall. I can’t tell you how incredibly disheartening it is to never measure up or be given a fair chance. I know how black people feel. I know how handicapped people feel. I know how minorities feel. Because prejudice is the same whether it is about skin color or hair color or personal preference.
It is judging someone before you get to know him. Most people do that to some degree. You almost have to. But prejudice reeks of ignorance. The real display of ignorance comes when the person being judged exceeds your expectations, but you simply come up with a new judgment or excuse as to why you should still hate them. It is when the victim can do no right in the eyes of his persecutor, no matter how hard he tries. People really should learn that in the long run everyone is hurt by this mentality. Obviously, the people being hated are hurt, but so is the ignorant “good old boy” that seeks to inflict so much pain.
You see after long enough a person starts to break inside and eventually they snap. If you want a man to act like a decent man, then treat him like a decent man. Even a criminal will eventually turn around if he feels like someone truly believes in him. And even a “good citizen” will start to act like a criminal if you treat him like one for long enough. There comes a point where you realize that the person(s) you are trying to please are simply unpleasable. You realize that all the hoops you jump through are only precursors to more hoops for you to jump through. Shortly after this hopelessness sets in, then frustration and anger take hold of you and then bad things start to happen.
There should be justice in the justice system, but it is rare. There should be human decency and compassion, but it is rare as well. We should look more at the intent of the law, than the letter of the law. Common sense should enter into the equation at some point. The media should care more about truth then about money, but what am I saying this is America. Everyone should get a fair chance. If they work hard and invest their life savings into something they should be given a little grace, shouldn’t they? Shouldn’t they at least be given a shot? No, say the powers that be. We don’t mind the strip clubs and the bars that surround you, because they pay us off. Their owners come to city council meetings and play golf with the mayor. They have time to be involved in politics, so they succeed. But, God help the man that just wants to do the right thing and has to do it all himself, right?
I didn’t have it in me to be a criminal any more. I mean I know I could have done it. I am smart enough and I have the connections. I just don’t want to fall. So, instead of lashing back out at the world my heart just kind of died inside. It is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it. I felt like I was running endlessly and there was no finish line and no reward. I felt like there was really no hope. My head knew there was hope, but I didn’t FEEL it. I felt like... I wanted to die.
Then to add insult to injury I came home to an empty house and another letter from Lana. She said she was sick of pretending or some nonsense. Either way everything was gone, and so was my family. She kicked me when I was down. She left me right when I needed her the most. It is so cowardly to leave a note to end a marriage. Talk to me face to face. At least give me that. I gave her everything I had, our children, and ten years of my life and she can’t even tell me how bad she hates me to my face? I felt crushed. Truly crushed. I had never prepared for our marriage to end.
When I said, “till death do us part,” I meant it. I never held anything back. I never had a back-up plan. I never looked at other girls. I never cheated on her or even thought about it. I never beat her or raised my voice in anger towards her. I had tried so hard to be a good man. I made it a point to be a good father and a good husband. I did what I said I would do in every area of my life. I was a man of my word. And in return, I get this. Words cannot explain the despair that I felt at that moment.
I talked her into coming back home after a few days. She said she would change and I agreed to make adjustments for her as well. But it was never the same. The first time I took her back was humiliating and a huge step for me, but now it was just becoming routine. Needless to say she kept leaving me. Every few weeks I would come home to an empty house and an empty bank account. I finally opened a second bank account that she didn’t know about and only kept enough in our mutual bank account to pay the bills and be believable.
I remember Lana’s birthday in 2001. You probably do too, actually. It was September 11th. The World Trade Center fell that morning and our country fell apart. It was a huge blow to the world and we have never really been the same since. We are still dealing with issues from 9/11. Everyone thought the world would end because of that, but it didn’t. We have to pick up the pieces and move on. We have to rebuild. The economy took a huge hit and no one wanted to spend any money. No one wanted to be in a crowded area either, like a nightclub for example. I think you see where this is going.
Business went from bad to worse on September 11th, 2001. I know it is selfish to think like that, but my life was pretty crappy at the time and I was having a hard time keeping my head above water. The whole thing was overwhelming. We had a bunch of national and international bands that cancelled on us because they were afraid of flying. The most notable was a metal tour that was coming from Europe. It was a lot of big name death metal and black metal bands. They sing about death and destruction all the time, but they were too afraid to get on an airplane to come to America. What a bunch of little girls! Grow some nuts, man! I have lost money or barely broke even on every national show since 9/11. I used to make lots of money on national shows, not anymore. How depressing.
So, two days after Lana’s birthday she tells me that she is going to this Renaissance Festival in Houston that day. I was a little shocked. She hadn’t said anything about it and then all of the sudden she was just going that day. She said she would just be there for the weekend, but she packed a lot of stuff. Friday night she called our home phone number when she knew I would be having a concert and said she was staying for another week or so because they had offered her a job making less then minimum wage. Once again, I was shocked. I tried to call her, a lot. She stopped answering any calls from me at all.
She was a huge fan of Ani Difranco and so I called Ani’s booking agent to try to get her to play at Dreamworld. She almost did, but something happened and it didn’t work out. I did get us tickets to see her in Austin though. When I told Lana that I had gotten us tickets she said “great, just send them down here and I’ll take a friend.” Of course that seemed strange that she didn’t want to see her husband even though she had been gone for a month now. So when I said I wanted to go too, she was disappointed and said “Why don’t you just meet me down there and we can watch the show together and then I’ll leave.” When I insisted that she come up and see me she had a bunch of excuses as to why she had to work until the last second, but she would be there in time to drive to Austin to see the concert.
Oct. 4th we drove down to Austin. She was very distant. Her and the kids had been sick since they were sleeping out in a tent for the last month on some muddy patch of dirt in Houston. When I asked why she didn’t answer any of my calls, she said her cell phone didn’t get any reception down there and so she hadn’t gotten my calls. I knew she was lying, but she stuck to her story.
The next morning we were driving around running errands with the kids. Lana went in a store by herself and I stayed in the car with the kids. Lily told me that they had been at the place where Brad works the day before and Lily knew lots of details. Sometimes kids make up silly stories, but she knew lots of stuff that was beyond her being able to make it up. She said that Mommy kissed Brad yesterday. I waited until I was alone with my wife and then I asked her about it. I didn’t accuse her. I just asked if she had been to his work recently. She lied and said no.
I kept giving her a chance to come clean or tell me it was a misunderstanding or something. Every time I told her a detail she would get more defensive. Then finally she flew off the handle. She said “ I thought you said you had forgiven me and you weren’t going to bring this up anymore. Why are you trying to pry stuff out of Lily? That isn’t fair to her! I’m sick of this! We’re leaving!”
She called her dad who drove right over and started packing her stuff up... again. He walked by me and gave me that look that said “ I knew you were a scumbag since the first day I met you. I’m so glad Lana finally got a clue and she is leaving you. She deserved better then you anyway.” Up to this point I hadn’t told anyone what was going on. I had covered for her to save her dignity. I had put up with everyone acting like any problems we had were my fault for long enough.
I looked him dead in the eye and said, “ You know she is cheating on me, don’t you?” His jaw dropped. He didn’t have a clue, or if he did he was a great actor, or maybe he was just surprised that I had actually said it. Then I went on “ Oh yeah, she’s been getting high, she smokes now, she drinks all the time... If you help her leave me you will be contributing to the destruction of our family and you are just as bad as she is.” He thought for a moment and I could tell my words struck deep, but then he just pushed me out of the way and started carrying more of her things out.
She left with the kids screaming for their daddy. She left with me crying on our front porch. After the whole painful ordeal I had to pick up the pieces, again. I had a concert that night that I had to fake being happy for. Over the next few months I tried to get her to come back. I tried every way I could think of to get her to come back. Even though she had done all that rotten stuff to me, even though she had betrayed me and pissed all over our marriage I still loved her. She didn’t answer or return calls. She only called when she needed money. She would be nice long enough to get some money and then she would leave again.
Right before Thanksgiving she said she didn’t want to have Thanksgiving with me. On Thanksgiving night, around midnight, her mother called me. She asked why I wasn’t doing more to try to get Lana back. She accused me of ruining our marriage and throwing it all away. She went on for about thirty minutes until she finally got to what she was trying to say. Lana had a boyfriend she was living with that she had brought up to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving dinner with their entire family. So, while I had stayed home alone for Thanksgiving she had flaunted her boyfriend that she was having another affair with to her entire family.
The next day Lana came home and acted like nothing had happened. Some guy kept calling her on her cell phone all day long. I knew it was Joel, her boyfriend, but I pretended to not know about it. I wanted her to come clean. I wanted her to tell me the truth. I wanted her to tell me it was a misunderstanding and that she loved me or that she was sorry. I gave her room to do all that... but nothing.
I suggested that this guy that was calling constantly sounded like he was more than a friend. She threw a fit, of course, to cover it up. As the conversation went on I let on to more and more details until she finally broke and told the truth... kind of. She said that she was sorry and she cried a lot. She told me that she had slept with 5 different guys within the last 5 weeks and now she was in love with this guy Joel. She said, “I don’t know what is the matter with me. I’m sorry. I know that it hurts you. I don’t want to ever do it again. I love you and you only.”
I guess I just wanted to believe her so I took her back again, like a fool. Deep down I just wanted my family back and I wanted my wife back. That night I had a concert at Dreamworld. I remember vividly a girl that worked my concession stand bragging that someone was going to let her drive their car. I told her not to do it. She giggled and ran off. The show ended and the bands were loading out of the backstage. I was secretly praying to die. River and I were talking on the stage when we heard what sounded like a shotgun going off outside the club.
It was clear enough that no one questioned it. We just ran outside to see what had happened. I ran ahead of everyone else and it was as if the world had just stopped. It wasn’t a shotgun blast. It was a car crash right in front of my club. I could see where the car had been hit and thrown at least a hundred feet from the point of impact. The car horn was going off and wouldn’t stop. Someone was calling 911 in the background. Everyone seemed panicked, except me. I calmly came up to the vehicle and I saw that there were five people in the car.
The driver was a girl. She looked gray and white and was unconscious. She was folded into the door’s twisted metal. I immediately thought “That girl is dead. There is nothing we can do for her now. I should try to help the others.” I couldn’t help but to feel a little jealous of whoever that girl was. She was getting to go home, right there in front of me. How I wanted to die and just stop the pain.” Then I heard my other bar girl, Ronna, frantically screaming at the top of her lungs. I was a little frustrated because I thought “this situation is hard enough without you screaming. What is that going to help?”
Then I heard what she was saying “It’s Billie! It’s Billie! It’s Billie!” She kept saying it over and over. I was thinking “No it isn’t”, but then I turned around. It was like my eyes had to adjust for a second. The driver of the car was Billie. I had just talked to her minutes before. I had just warned her not to drive the car. I looked in the car and I knew everyone in there! It was Derek... and James... and Cody... and Jordan... and Billie, all people from my club. All people I knew and talked to. People I had just seen and talked to and taken for granted.
There was no way to get Billie out. She had become part of the car and she was dead as far as I was concerned. The other kids started coming to and got out of the other end of the car. Then someone yelled, “She has a pulse! She has a pulse!” I thought “No she doesn’t. You are dreaming. If she does have one it won’t be for long. There is no hope for her.”
About that time a cop showed up and starting trying to assess the accident. The next thing we knew there were 7 cop cars, 4 fire trucks, and 3 ambulances surrounding us. They got out the Jaws of Life and cut the car open to get Billie out. Somehow they got her out alive and on a stretcher. We noticed a helicopter flying very close and we assumed it was the news, but it just kept getting closer until it landed in the road right in front of Dreamworld. Everyone was put in neck braces and driven off in ambulances. Billie was flown away in the helicopter.
I spent the rest of the night trying to call parents and tell them what had happened to their children. It was a hard night. It was very surreal. James got a concussion and he got banged up pretty good. Jordan got out of the car and hid before the cops got there. Cody got a piece of the windshield lodged a half inch deep into his eye. Derek lost three toes, but they sewed them back on. Billie was a wreck.
The car that hit them hit right into her door and never slowed down. They were going about 80 miles per hour. Billie was in a coma for three months. They had to drill a hole in her head to bleed off pressure because her brain was swelling. She had two huge blood clots in her head. She broke some ribs and punctured a lung and cut her liver. She breathed through a hole in her throat for almost six months while on a respirator. She had stomach surgery. She was in intensive care for almost six months. Everybody thought she would probably die soon. Nobody wanted to say it, but we all knew it was true.
We had all just been to the funeral of another kid from Dreamworld named Thomas. He got hit by a train. It was sad. He had been in my office the day before the accident, if it was an accident. A lot of people thought it was suicide. No one really knows. We didn’t want to have another funeral, but it seemed imminent.
So, I finally went home that night/ morning. I told Lana what had happened. We slept together that night for the last time ever. In the morning she said she had to sort some things out in her mind and get some time alone to clear her head. She said she was going to go to Oklahoma to stay with her grandmother for a few days. So she packed up and took the kids and went to Oklahoma. I had another show that night that I had to do. When I got home that night there was a message on the answering machine from Lana saying happily that she was in Oklahoma and that she would call me in a few days.
First of all I have a cell phone that I ALWAYS keep on me, so why didn’t she call my cell phone? Secondly, we had Caller ID and Joel’s number showed up. It didn’t say his name, but he had called earlier and I knew it was Joel even though Lana had lied so I wrote down the number somewhere. It still wouldn’t be right if years or months or even weeks or days had passed since she said she wouldn’t see him anymore, but it was hours! Literally a few hours passed after she told me how sorry she was and that she would never do it again before she was back in his arms! I called her cell, his cell, and his home phone repeatedly with no response. I knew they were there and I knew they heard me. So I left a message that said, “you have twenty minutes to call me or I am going to find out where he lives and come find you.”
I got no response, so I called her parents and found out roughly where he lived. I drove for an hour and a half and got there at 2 am. I saw her car and I was furious and hurt. A sea of mixed emotions filled my heart and mind. I knocked on the door and got no answer for a while. I heard some shuffling around and a few minutes later Joel came to the window of the door. He asked who it was and what I was doing there in the middle of the night. I asked if Lana was there and he said “Yes” at which point I told him that was my wife he was screwing in there. He stalled some more and tried to talk his way out of opening the door, but I got him to open it. I pushed my way in the house. He tried to fight me a little bit, but I think he realized that I was a lot stronger and a lot madder then he was. He kept threatening to call the cops and I kept daring him to do it so he could go to jail.
There was a gun and a bunch of bullets sitting on the washing machine right as I walked in the mobile home. Yes, I said mobile home. I was thinking a few things. One, why is there a gun and bullets within my children’s reach? And two, why is she leaving me for this nerd who lives in a mobile home trashy trailer behind his parent’s house? He is a geek! He is poor! He is irritating! He is a coward! etc, etc, etc. And I am none of these things. What is the matter with her? Lana was hiding from me in his bedroom and wouldn’t come out. She was terrified. I would be too, I suppose, if I was stupid enough to do what she did. So, I sat and calmly talked to Mr. Dorkwad Circus Clown Screwing-My-Wife Joel!
I told him that whatever she might have told him that we were married and he was committing adultery with my wife. He didn’t care at all. He was proud of it. He gave me some pseudo-intellectual sounding speech about how marriage was just a piece of paper and that Lana and I were already divorced in our hearts and that they were already married in their hearts. He truly was a coward. I could see it in his eyes. Anyone who hides in secret while seducing another man’s wife is a coward and scum of the earth. They deserve to die. They break hearts and break homes and children. They destroy just so they can get off without obligation. It took every ounce of self-control I had to not rip him to pieces right there and kill them both. They certainly deserved it.
I guess you never know what is really in you until you are put in that situation. I guess I am not a killer, because I just didn’t think either one of them were worth the hassle. I honestly felt sorry for them. Their punishment was that they had to live with themselves for the rest of their lives. That is worse than death. I tried to talk sense into Moron-Boy, but he was just a freaking’ idiot. I think his parents were related... to each other!
Finally, Lana agreed to come out and talk to me if I went outside first. I did. Dumbbutt came out with her like he was going to protect her from me or some stupid thing like that. First of all I wouldn’t hurt my own wife... or anyone else for that matter, but even if I did he couldn’t do anything to stop me anyway. I could have crushed him without a thought. I dismissed him from my presence. He argued for a second and then he went inside. It was windy and cold and dark. So was she. I told her to come home and stop doing this to us. She said “No!” I told her “This is the last chance you get. Come home tonight and never do this again and I won’t bring it up again or make your decision tonight to leave me forever.” She said, “ I don’t love you. I love Joel. And I want a divorce!”
Brokenhearted I said “Fine then. It is over. Are you sure that is your decision?” She said, “ I don’t love you. I love Joel. And I want a divorce!” With tears in my eyes I told her “ Tomorrow morning you will get your divorce. Don’t ever come back to me begging for forgiveness. I gave you more chances than should be given to any woman. I never want to see you again. I never want to talk to you again. I always loved you.” And I turned and walked away. I thought she would call after me, but she didn’t. I thought she would call me when I left, but she didn’t. I drove away and she didn’t care at all.
I think that was one of the lowest points of my life that night. Words can’t express how painful that it is to be betrayed by everyone and then be finished off and spit on by the only one on the planet who should stand beside you no matter what. The weight on my soul that night could have sunk a thousand ships. As I was driving, my mind was anywhere but on the road. It was 3am and there was no one out in this Podunk little town I was driving through...except my best friend, the policeman who decided to pull me over.
Most of the times I know why I get pulled over and I know how fast I was going. He looked at me with that stupid inbred “I have all the power” look and said, “do you have any idea how fast you were going?” I said “Honestly I don’t. I’m sorry” He freaked out and said “72 miles per hour. Do you know what the speed limit is out here?” I reluctantly said “70?” He retorted with “Not at night, it’s not! It’s 65 at night! What is your hurry, boy?” This cop had actually pulled me over for going two miles over the speed limit while I was going down a hill! Even if it was 65 like he said, I still wasn’t going fast enough to get pulled over. I was thinking, “Just shoot me and get it over with. This is unbelievable! All this happens and then I get Porky the Pig on a donut break trying to give me some retarded speech about going two freaking’ miles over the speed limit!”
So I told him that I had just caught my wife in bed with another man, that I had seen several of my friends almost die the night before, and that I just wasn’t paying attention. He took my license and registration and went back to his Pork-mobile. He must have waited ten minutes before coming back to me. He had the nerve to say to me “ Well I don’t know why you would want a girl like that anyway. If I were you I would leave her! You are a fool. Anyway, are you sure you are safe to drive tonight? I can incarcerate you for the night and you can spend the night in jail if you want.” At first I wanted to cry, but then I wanted to punch that fat nosy man square in the face for even thinking such a thing. Of course I didn’t do either of those things.
I assured him that I was fine and didn’t need any “favors” like that, but thank you for being so thoughtful. Sincere sarcasm. I can’t believe the things I can say and get away with sometimes. He then warned me that if he ever so much as saw my truck in his town again that he would arrest me himself and that he had other cops ahead of me on my way home that he was going to call and warn them about me. And if I were so much as one mile over I would go to jail tonight! He also reminded me that he was the law in these parts and that they didn’t take kindly to folks like me (with long hair). I thanked him and sped on home. Reason number ten trillion, nine hundred and eighty seven billion, one hundred and twenty three million, six hundred and fifty four thousand, three hundred and twenty one that I hate cops.
So, when I finally got home I got the chance to do what I had needed to do for way too long now. I got in the shower and I broke down. Not a little. I lost it! I cried my eyes out. I didn’t hold back. It was just too much. I couldn’t handle it anymore. The cops were falsely accusing me and I would probably be arrested soon. I was $545,000 in debt and I was making absolutely no headway. The Christians hated me because I had secular music in my club. Everyone else hated me because I was a Christian and I didn’t sell alcohol. We weren’t making any money. I met my real father for the first time in my life and let’s face it; he was crazy and of no consolation to me. Billie had almost died the night before. A lot of people had been dying recently. The World Trade Center had just fallen a few months before and the world was in turmoil. The recession was killing any hope of my business ever making it. It looked like World War Three was about to break out. And, honestly, I could handle all that, but then the only person in the world who was supposed to stand by me had betrayed me... repeatedly. She had cheated and lied and come back and done it again and again and again.
I realize it was pathetic, but I just couldn’t take it so I cried. No, I wept bitterly! I was calling out to God and I said “ God, please take me home. I won’t kill myself, but please take me out of the game. It is too much for me. I can’t keep it together. Please take me home! Please let me die! Please have mercy on me and just put me out of my misery. Arrange for a car crash or a lightning bolt or anything you see fit. Just let me come home. Please!” As I lay there crying and feeling sorry for myself on the shower floor I remembered a verse I had read in the Bible a few weeks before in Jeremiah 12. It says: “ If you have raced with mere men on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses? If you stumble in safe country, how will you manage in the thickets by the Jordan?”
And then I took a moment and realized there are people that have it a lot worse than me. I am not the first man to go through this and I won’t be the last. At least I’m not in a coma. At least I don’t have AIDS. And even if I did, I am not a coward. You see there are no cowards in heaven. And so at that moment on the shower floor I stopped crying. I lifted my head towards heaven and I said, “Well then, I’ll run with horses. I’ll turn the other cheek. I’ll walk the extra mile. I’ll be the better man. I’ll do miracles. I will believe. Everything I have is borrowed time and borrowed goods. So, make me what you need, God. I will do whatever you ask. I am yours. I won’t feel sorry for myself... I am blessed.”
I got myself up out of the shower, got dressed, and I wrote the title song to my first album “I Will Run With Horses.” The words are:
I Will Run With Horses
If you feel worn out, tired, and weak when you run with men
How then shall you run with horses?
And if you stumble and fall when you are safe at home
How then shall you stand my son when you are all alone?
And how can you continue in sin and still condemn your brother?
How can you have a beam in your eye and see the speck in another’s?
I will stay true, I will stand, I will run with horses
I will believe, I will not fall, by your grace I stand
With my Lord I can do all things, I will run with horses
Even to death I carry my cross, I will fly with angels!
A man is not born a hero, songs about him they do not sing
Until he does something great, until he is amazing
The man stood, the man stood tall
He did what was right, he didn’t fall
He risked his life, he risked his soul
Against all odds he had hope
I will stay true, I will stand, I will run with horses
I will believe, I will not fall, by your grace I stand
With my Lord I can do all things, I will run with horses
Even to death I carry my cross, I will fly with angels!
Even to death I carry my cross, I will walk with Jesus!
I will stay true, I will stand, I will run with horses
I will believe, I will not fall, by your grace I stand
With my Lord I can do all things, I will run with horses
Even to death I carry my cross, I will fly with angels!
Even to death I carry my cross, I will walk with Jesus!
Even to death I carry my cross, I will run with horses!
The whole next day I spent in the courthouse filing for a divorce. I can’t tell you how difficult that was for me. I never wanted to get a divorce. I never planned for it. It seemed that only women worked in the divorce section of the courthouse. Everyone of them gave me that man-hater look like “You scumbag why are you doing this to her? You are probably cheating on her... and beating her. You are probably a drug addict loser, etc, etc, etc.” I had to go and humbly ask for help.
Of course, no one would help me. They can’t give legal advice or they will get fired. All I wanted to know was what floor of the building to go to. Apparently that was considered legal advice to them, or maybe they were just man-haters and thought the worst of me. I didn’t try to defend myself. I just wandered around aimlessly until I figured out what to do. It was by far one of the most difficult and humiliating things I have ever had to go through.
Lana signed everything quickly. She was itching to get divorced so that her and Joel could get married. He came along with her to sign papers. He wouldn’t get out of the car. He is a coward. The next 50 times I saw her he was always in the car. He never got out. He never said hello. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He wasn’t worth beating up, and neither was she. They deserved each other. My kids didn’t deserve any of this though. Kids make divorce harder than anything else. All of the sudden a million questions ran through my head about what I could possibly do to make the whole thing right. The answer is: NOTHING MAKES DIVORCE RIGHT! NOTHING!
There are no easy answers because this isn’t the way it is supposed to be. Things like this make BROKEN HOMES! Broken, pretty much, beyond repair. And then to add insult to injury your fate lies in the decision of a stranger (a judge) who listens to each of your stories for a few minutes and decides your family’s destiny. The whole thing just seems so wrong. It was finally out of my hands. Sixty one days later we were divorced, legally. It was like getting a driver’s license or a passport. It was completely heartless.
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