My time in Purgatory

About four weeks ago I was happily minding my own business on a Tuesday morning.  It was shortly after 7:00 a.m. and I had just hopped out of the shower, and the 7:25 a.m. news break was just starting as I was drying off.  (I have a TV in my bathroom.  Now don't laugh, honestly it makes a lot of sense.  I spend a minimum 90 minutes in there each day between getting myself ready and the kids ready, so its a handy place to keep myself abreast of current events while bathing the kids and myself.) 

The lead story for the 7:25 news break was the arrest of a large counterfeiting ring in Hurricane Utah.  I listened and watched as they listed off the names of the three individuals arrested.  As the last individuals mug shot was posted on the news I recognized him.  My brother. 

So here I am standing naked, wet and stunned in my bathroom learning my brother was currently in Purgatory.  (Yes, ironically it is the name of the Washington County jail.)  I have to say I was not surprised.  He has a history.  I have suspected for sometime he was probably up to no good, but as far as he is concerned I had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.  I am sure if I had asked he would have told me, but honestly I didn't want to know.

I also knew I was going to be making a trip to St. George.  With both my parents deceased I am the parental figure.  In addition to suspecting he was up to no good, I also suspected he had a drug problem.  So I decided to let him sit there for a week before I went to see him.  I figured he was pretty mad about being caught, and that I needed to let him sober up, and work through some anger before I saw him.  Rick offered to take the kids and I left on a Sunday afternoon.  I really enjoyed my drive down.  It was three and a half hours in the car, with NO KIDS!  I could actually think a complete thought. 

The first place I wanted to go was the place where my brother had been living.  He had been living in Hurricane, and since that is on the way to St. George, I decided to do a "drive by" of where he was living, since I knew I would be going inside th next day.  I knew that he had rented a hotel, as in an entire hotel, because he told me he was using the first floor for business and sleeping on the second floor.  He made it sound really creepy to me, and in "The Shinning" creepy.  So I have in my mind that it is the big huge 20,000 square foot building, when in reality it was only about 5000 square feet at best.  Smaller than my house. 

When the cops arrested him they had executed a search warrant, and seized a bunch of his property.  Since he did not own the "hotel," the landlord was less than thrilled with his activities and once the cops were done, the landlord wanted the remains of my brother's stuff out of the building.  Within 48 hours of his arrest I got a call from his CRAZY girlfriend, all in a panic about everything.  She said the cops trashed the place, which I am sure they did.  And then she went on and on and on about how this was the worst thing that has ever happened to HER!  How he was HER best friend, and he didn't have anyone else in his life but HER. (Hello???!!!! He has three sisters and a step mother who care a whole lot about him.)  How HER parents told HER not to be involved with him.  (I already like her parents) But "how do you stop loving your best friend?"  In a nut shell, she wanted me to feel sorry for HER.  I shut her down.  I was not buying the drama she was selling.  I needed to asses the situation, and determine how much property of his remained, and what I needed to do to get it packed, out of the house and up to Provo.  She finally got to the relevant facts, and I knew that I would have sufficient room in my Jeep for his stuff.

 I killed a poor birdy on the way down.  Sad.

Paper covering the windows, its so classic my brother.  Like the tin foil wrapped gifts.

I spent Sunday night with my cousin Brooke, who lives in St. George and made my entire trip worth it, by having so much fun girl talk on Sunday night.   I awoke on Monday morning to face my brother's music.  First stop his "hotel" and the CRAZY girlfriend.  Now I had expected I was going to have to spend a good majority of the day sorting and cleaning his stuff.  I will say this at least the CRAZY girlfriend cleaned and sorted.  (Honestly I am sure she did it to take ANYTHING of value before I got there)  So here are a few pictures of where he was living....lets just say its telling.....

 Yes, you can tell he was living there, by the tell tale signs of his food preferences.

 Monica , Bill and a cigar clock.

 Ok, at least he properly posted his business license.

 Dead, stuffed squirrels, posed and ready for action.

An outside garden, where he liked to eat.

After seeing his house and obtaining basically his clothes from his CRAZY girlfriend, I ventured to the jail to see him.  He had no idea I was coming.  He had not called anyone from his family, so my visit was a complete surprise.  He was sober and looked better than I had seen him look in several years.  He proceeded to tell me his legal strategy for getting out of all his charges, which I smiled politely and nodded my head.  (I decided I would let his court appointed attorney be the bearer of the legal news...., but a law school graduate, nor a realist, my brother is not.)  It was a nice visit and I am very glad that I went.  He needed to know I was there for him.

Over the course of the last few weeks he has sent several messages to me via, people who were in jail with him and then got released, and he so kindly provided them my telephone number.  I now have new and colorful friends thanks to my brother!  I put money on his jail account, I would much prefer the old fashioned idea of letter writing.  Its that too much to ask?

Finally I found this sign on his desk at his "hotel."  Humm....25% of the time?  I would have thought it was less.