In yesterday's journal entry, I wrote about the Parole Board...
...and why I continue to attend the hearings, even though I always get "hit" with two more years. I have already gone to twelve boards, and I am now completing my forty-sixth year of incarceration. But as I mentioned in yesterday's entry, my primary reasons for attending are to take responsibility for my past criminal acts, and to express my remorse, along with wanting to be a good representative for my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
But there is one more reason, as well, which I forgot to mention, it's my dad. My father, Nathan, stuck with me even when I was being arrested and my family's name was being kicked around like dirt. He also stood by me while I was in jail awaiting trial, as well as throughout my years of imprisonment. There are not many fathers, I believe, who would have stood by a son who put them through as much grief, pain, and shame as I did. My dad was one of a kind.
Fortunately, God granted my father a long life. He lived to be 101 years old, and he remained active and alert until his final weeks. But it was my father who told me that the reason he fought so hard to stay alive, was because he wanted to be around to see me walk out of prison. This was his hope and dream which, he claimed, added extra years to his life. I could not have been more blessed than to have a dad by the name of Nathan Berkowitz.
And as for the parole hearing itself, it lasted about an hour. The three commissioners who made up the board were, in my observation, disinterested and aloof. Still, I got to speak, and I believe I accomplished what set out to do, and that was it.
D.B.
But there is one more reason, as well, which I forgot to mention, it's my dad. My father, Nathan, stuck with me even when I was being arrested and my family's name was being kicked around like dirt. He also stood by me while I was in jail awaiting trial, as well as throughout my years of imprisonment. There are not many fathers, I believe, who would have stood by a son who put them through as much grief, pain, and shame as I did. My dad was one of a kind.
Fortunately, God granted my father a long life. He lived to be 101 years old, and he remained active and alert until his final weeks. But it was my father who told me that the reason he fought so hard to stay alive, was because he wanted to be around to see me walk out of prison. This was his hope and dream which, he claimed, added extra years to his life. I could not have been more blessed than to have a dad by the name of Nathan Berkowitz.
And as for the parole hearing itself, it lasted about an hour. The three commissioners who made up the board were, in my observation, disinterested and aloof. Still, I got to speak, and I believe I accomplished what set out to do, and that was it.
D.B.
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