A few days ago, I sat down with my friend, Dan, whom I had met through the Coyote Ridge Dogs Program. Dan had been over to our side of the “pod” training his husky mix puppy to be prepared for adoption. As the sunlight penetrated the dayroom, Dan seemed content.

Recently, while brainstorming ideas for blog content, I thought about how I could show the world that many of us in prison are making a concerted effort to better ourselves as well as the world around us. When I saw Dan show up at my door, I thought he was a perfect example. He is hard-working, kind, respectful, and a dog handler.

I looked at Dan and thought to myself “this is one of the nicest guys I’ve met here…why is this guy here?”

As a result, I broke prison etiquette and asked him. He told me he had been charged with second degree murder.

Looking at Dan, you wouldn’t think that he’d have it in his heart to do something like that. I went on to question him about it, but unfortunately, his time was running short. Before he left, I asked if we could sit down sometime and write his story for my blog. He agreed. A few months later we met in the dayroom.

I believe it’s common that people assume the worst when they think about prisoners. In our society, people who become arrested are often no longer viewed as people but as “offenders” or “convicts.” The real truth is we are fathers, sons, brothers, daughters, mothers and sisters before we were “convicts.” We have interests, feelings, and an identity that goes beyond what many in the justice system would have you believe. Dan is no exception to that.

I had no recording device, nor did I even have a laptop. All I had were my pencil and a composition book. With these tools I began our interview.

I started by asking Dan a few simple questions. He told me he’d been incarcerated for 16 years. I asked him how he was handling that, and he told me that it was hard at first, if not extremely difficult. He told me he arrived at prison with a 38-year sentence. In a very serious tone he told me that he believes in justice. He emphasized that he was remorseful for what he did and what happened. Although he is healing now, and much time has passed, he iterated that “the taking of a life is not something that is easily rectified.”

From what Dan told me, it was apparent that he grew up in a less-than-ideal household. His father was an Army veteran that had a drinking problem. Often is father would take his anger out on him in the form of beatings. Dan said that his father was often “psychologically, mentally and physically abusive.” Dan’s mother, however, was very “caring and loving.”

Dan told me that when he was growing up he didn’t know who he was. At age 9 his babysitter let him smoke his first cigarette. At age 13 Dan began to get into his father’s supply of alcohol and marijuana. He began drinking and smoking a lot as a teenager, and looking back, Dan said that he needed more stability as well as direction into positive outlets. It was apparent he had very few, if any.

Throughout his teenage years he began to experiment with more drugs. By early adulthood he had started taking methamphetamines. He worked in a cannery during the day and would spend much of his money on drugs and alcohol. By his early 20s he was drunk or high every day. He’d work days on end without and sleep and during this time, he was involved in a “bad relationship” with a woman.

One day, while intoxicated, Dan lost control of himself. He became angry and jealous. Consequently, he lashed out and shot this woman. At age 23, Dan was arrested and charged with murder.

I asked him what it was like for him when he first arrived in jail. Dan told me he was stunned and shocked. He found himself in solitary confinement and was placed on suicide watch. He told me that sitting in that cell in shock of what had happened was one of the worst experiences of his life.

His family soon found out. After a week, his aunt from California had driven up to see him with two pastors from her church. The jail staff actually allowed his aunt and the pastors to come into Dan’s cell and talk to him about his faith, his purpose and his life.

Dan told me that he felt captured, locked up, and couldn’t run from problems anymore. He iterated that he had been running his whole life and, in that cell, while talking with the pastors, he realized that he needed serious help.

They told him his purpose was not to hurt. They talked to him about the bible, Jesus and God. Dan said during that time, he prayed to God and God answered him. For the first time in his life he felt that he had a real purpose. He also stressed that it wasn’t easy. He told me his time in solitary was like “standing at the base of a mountain” that he had to climb. So far, he has been climbing for 16 years.

His spiritual journey wasn’t magic nor was it overnight. He felt that he was in prison more on the outside than on the inside. His old life of drug usage and alcohol abuse was immensely different to the life he is living now.

Dan wanted to stress that he’s upset that his family has to suffer for what he did. He told me that, in a way, his family is also being punished. This is because of the financial and emotional strain of incarceration. He said that it’s also not fair to the victim’s family for what happened and stated “at least my family gets to visit me. [Her family] doesn’t get to visit her.”

Over time, he told me, there has to come an acceptance: “I’m doing time and time’s not doing me…I’m just trying to live life and do what I can to help those around me.”

Dan has come a long way. He’s participated in numerous prison programs including Non-Violent Communication as well as the Coyote Ridge Dog Program where he trains positive behavior patterns in sheltered dogs to prepare them for adoption. He believes the dog program is a way to give back to society. So far, he has participated in the dog Program for 3 years and worked with over 200 dogs.

With time running short in our interview, I asked Dan if there was anything he could say to the world, what would it be.

“Sin is a problem and Jesus is a solution.”

With a smile he shook my hand, thanked me, and then walked his husky puppy out of the pod. As for myself, I felt grateful for having met him and heard his story.