In my distress I called upon the Lord...
Psalm 18:6
On May30th, I wrote about the disappointing experience I had when four homicide detectives from the New York City Police Department showed up at the prison unannounced...
Psalm 18:6
On May30th, I wrote about the disappointing experience I had when four homicide detectives from the New York City Police Department showed up at the prison unannounced...
Directed by the correction's officer who was escorting me, I was told to go into a secondary visiting area after walking through the main visiting room that was filled with inmates and their families. I was then ordered to sit in a chair in front of a large table where the four detectives sat awaiting my presence.
I'll admit, I was nervous. "What's this all about?" I wondered. And after introducing themselves, they told me they were here to investigate an "old case." A woman in her mid-forties had been shot multiple times and was left with serious injuries. It happened forty-eight years ago, in 1976.
"Forty-eight years ago?" I asked, amazed. "Yes," they replied. They were hoping I would freely confess to it. But I openly proclaimed my innocence instead, and much to their displeasure. Thus began an approximately two-hour and fifteen-minute ordeal. Of which, when it was over, my shirt was soaked with sweat, and so was my face. But little did I know the that most unsettling part was still ahead.
Their visit could have put me in harm’s way. As it turned out, word spread throughout the prison that "four detectives visited with David Berkowitz." It went "viral," at least in here. And this left me feeling deeply troubled. Why? Because every convict knows that when law enforcement visits an inmate, they either want to question him about a particular criminal matter, or they want information on a fellow con. They're not known for dropping by for friendly chats.
Thankfully, however, God was with me. Because in the days that followed, I had to privately meet with certain fellow cons to give an account as to why those four cops came to see me. And they were satisfied with my explanation.
In addition to this, my fellow prisoners know of my reputation as a "straight arrow," and as a guy who minds his own business and knows how to keep his mouth shut. Nevertheless, if it had not been for God's watching over me, I probably would've caught a beating or worse.
D.B.
I'll admit, I was nervous. "What's this all about?" I wondered. And after introducing themselves, they told me they were here to investigate an "old case." A woman in her mid-forties had been shot multiple times and was left with serious injuries. It happened forty-eight years ago, in 1976.
"Forty-eight years ago?" I asked, amazed. "Yes," they replied. They were hoping I would freely confess to it. But I openly proclaimed my innocence instead, and much to their displeasure. Thus began an approximately two-hour and fifteen-minute ordeal. Of which, when it was over, my shirt was soaked with sweat, and so was my face. But little did I know the that most unsettling part was still ahead.
Their visit could have put me in harm’s way. As it turned out, word spread throughout the prison that "four detectives visited with David Berkowitz." It went "viral," at least in here. And this left me feeling deeply troubled. Why? Because every convict knows that when law enforcement visits an inmate, they either want to question him about a particular criminal matter, or they want information on a fellow con. They're not known for dropping by for friendly chats.
Thankfully, however, God was with me. Because in the days that followed, I had to privately meet with certain fellow cons to give an account as to why those four cops came to see me. And they were satisfied with my explanation.
In addition to this, my fellow prisoners know of my reputation as a "straight arrow," and as a guy who minds his own business and knows how to keep his mouth shut. Nevertheless, if it had not been for God's watching over me, I probably would've caught a beating or worse.
D.B.
