But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: In who the god of this
world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the
glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
2 Corinthians 4:3-4
I didn't really know him...
world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the
glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
2 Corinthians 4:3-4
I didn't really know him...
I often saw him walking the prison corridors, or in the gym as he worked out with weights. Many times, I observed him in the recreation yard hanging out with the Organized Crime guys. He fit in well with them, it seemed.
His name was Frank Dimarco, and he was shot to death on a street in Queens, New York shortly after he was released from the Sullivan Correctional Facility.
Frank was 52 years old, and Sullivan was his last prison stop before his life came to a sudden end. Like hundreds of convicts who pass through this facility, many who come here from other prisons, who stay awhile before they're transferred again, or who eventually obtain their parole or get released having earned "good time,” Frank was just another face in the crowd.
I think he got out of prison only several months ago. And since I didn't know Frank personally, I forgot about him. In this environment, men come and go all the time. Inmates are transferred in and out of the facility every week.
But over the weekend word began to spread quickly that a man who had once been here, was shot to death.
In prisons, bad news travels fast. Out of curiosity, I asked one of Frank's friends if this was true. False rumors spread fast, too. When I asked the question, however, this man, who lives in the same housing unit as me, quickly darted into his cell to retrieve an article from the New York Post. He then handed me the already crumpled page. It was from the Post's "NYPD Daily Blotter" that's usually buried somewhere in the middle of each day's newspaper.
This section lists some of the daily incidents of murder, mayhem, and crime in the "Big Apple. I then read a portion of last Friday's blotter, which said: "Police yesterday identified a Long Island man shot and killed on a Cambria Heights Street. Frank Dimarco, 52, of Westbury, was shot in the head for unknown reasons at 132nd Road and 219th Street around 10:30 p.m. Wednesday. Dimarco, who had 60 prior arrests, was taken to Mary Immaculate Hospital, where he died."
My heart was pricked. As a Christian, I quickly bowed my head and offered a silent prayer for his suffering family. I'm sure he has loved ones who are grieving. And my mind thought of Frank, too. Sixty arrests! His friend told me that Frank had a penchant for robbing drug dealers.
I'm not sure what Frank received his last prison sentence for. His friend didn't know. Frank Dimarco had so many prior arrests, and he'd done so much jail and prison time, that even his best friend lost track.
And of course, I wondered if Frank knew Jesus Christ as his Savior. Like multitudes of inmates, he did his time hanging out with the guys, aimlessly passing the time, perhaps never thinking about God, and never showing any interest in going to the chapel services.
Frank was like the myriads of men in prison whom Satan has blinded. Christian inmates were all around him, and the chapel's doors were always open, but Frank was a blind man. The "god of this world" kept Frank under his power.
The temptations of drugs and money and having a "good reputation" among thieves was of more value than his being in right standing with the Lord. Now, sadly, only a short time after Frank walked out the doors of this prison, his body was dropped by a bullet on a desolate street corner.
A lifetime of crime was what he chose. And all that was left to mark his life was a tiny blurb written in a New York City newspaper about his murder.
What a waste.
D.B.
His name was Frank Dimarco, and he was shot to death on a street in Queens, New York shortly after he was released from the Sullivan Correctional Facility.
Frank was 52 years old, and Sullivan was his last prison stop before his life came to a sudden end. Like hundreds of convicts who pass through this facility, many who come here from other prisons, who stay awhile before they're transferred again, or who eventually obtain their parole or get released having earned "good time,” Frank was just another face in the crowd.
I think he got out of prison only several months ago. And since I didn't know Frank personally, I forgot about him. In this environment, men come and go all the time. Inmates are transferred in and out of the facility every week.
But over the weekend word began to spread quickly that a man who had once been here, was shot to death.
In prisons, bad news travels fast. Out of curiosity, I asked one of Frank's friends if this was true. False rumors spread fast, too. When I asked the question, however, this man, who lives in the same housing unit as me, quickly darted into his cell to retrieve an article from the New York Post. He then handed me the already crumpled page. It was from the Post's "NYPD Daily Blotter" that's usually buried somewhere in the middle of each day's newspaper.
This section lists some of the daily incidents of murder, mayhem, and crime in the "Big Apple. I then read a portion of last Friday's blotter, which said: "Police yesterday identified a Long Island man shot and killed on a Cambria Heights Street. Frank Dimarco, 52, of Westbury, was shot in the head for unknown reasons at 132nd Road and 219th Street around 10:30 p.m. Wednesday. Dimarco, who had 60 prior arrests, was taken to Mary Immaculate Hospital, where he died."
My heart was pricked. As a Christian, I quickly bowed my head and offered a silent prayer for his suffering family. I'm sure he has loved ones who are grieving. And my mind thought of Frank, too. Sixty arrests! His friend told me that Frank had a penchant for robbing drug dealers.
I'm not sure what Frank received his last prison sentence for. His friend didn't know. Frank Dimarco had so many prior arrests, and he'd done so much jail and prison time, that even his best friend lost track.
And of course, I wondered if Frank knew Jesus Christ as his Savior. Like multitudes of inmates, he did his time hanging out with the guys, aimlessly passing the time, perhaps never thinking about God, and never showing any interest in going to the chapel services.
Frank was like the myriads of men in prison whom Satan has blinded. Christian inmates were all around him, and the chapel's doors were always open, but Frank was a blind man. The "god of this world" kept Frank under his power.
The temptations of drugs and money and having a "good reputation" among thieves was of more value than his being in right standing with the Lord. Now, sadly, only a short time after Frank walked out the doors of this prison, his body was dropped by a bullet on a desolate street corner.
A lifetime of crime was what he chose. And all that was left to mark his life was a tiny blurb written in a New York City newspaper about his murder.
What a waste.
D.B.
