stopped him and upon seeing his condition, called an ambulance. At the
hospital, he was cited and arrested for driving under the influence, public
intoxication, and a slew of other traffic violations and taken to the county
jail. His wife bailed him out later that night.
Eventually, all charges were dropped. He had spoken with
his boss who spoke with the base commander—a grey-haired Colonel
with 32 years in the service. The commander put in a few calls to
people in Washington who apparently put in a few calls to the arresting
police department’s chief. The incident was chalked up to a big
misunderstanding and he was never reprimanded for his bad conduct.
His record was also expunged of any trace of the accident. That’s what
happens when you’re a key member of the government intelligence
community. People make calls and all is well. It was something he was
quite aware of and he had made a practice of falling back on it when
necessary. And by necessary, he had used his position no less than four
times to get out of an otherwise perilous situation.
It was summer 1983—a hot, sticky night—two months before his
sixteenth birthday. His mom was gone visiting her sick father in Illinois and
his sisters were staying over at their friend’s house for the duration. He was
home alone. Seeking refuge from the heat, he stood in front of the open fridge
door in only a pair of underwear. He scanned the fridge for something to
eat when his eyes fell upon the case of beer. He drank occasionally with his
buddies but he typically stayed away from alcohol; he spent too many nights
indirectly suffering from its effects. He pulled his gaze away from the case and
again looked for something to eat but quickly found his eyes drawn back to
the beer. He checked the clock—9:15 PM. He knew his father wouldn’t be
home for at least five hours; he asked himself, what harm could one beer do?
Slowly, he reached for the beer.
His finger slid along the cold can and traced the letters of the name.
Milwaukee’s Best. It was still his father’s favorite beer and the only beer
allowed in the house. His body trembled in anticipation and his heart was
beating so hard he could feel it in his temples. Again he asked himself, what
harm could one beer do? He pulled a beer from the case, cracked the top, and
let the golden liquid flow down his throat. In two long gulps, the beer was
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