Irreplaceable

The one thing in this world of ours or even in this entire universe that can not be replaced is life. Life is a one time deal that while living many of us wonders why we live. With all the pain and hurt which seems to be a fixture in the act of living, along with the moments of joy and happiness, we search for reasons to explain and understand why we exist. Some of us look toward religion and science for answers, some of us just except life for what it is. What I think is that the answers to why we exist, lives within all that exist. That’s every personal experience, collective experience, all religion, science, and practices. From the smallest rock to the most complicated living organism. All of it, and all of us, holding small pieces to the answer of the question why there is such a thing as existence, within our own personal existence. The one thing I do know for a fact is that no matter how hard life can be at times, it is nothing less than a blessing to be fortunate enough to have experience what it is to live. Now whether that blessing is from some supreme god or just a result of a chemical reaction that began the process of evolution, or even a mixture of both, I can not say. However this whole thing went down, the one thing that is an undeniable fact is that life cannot be replaced. Once you’re gone, you’re gone.

I began to understand how special life is when while during an armed robbery I was involved in, one innocent life was almost lost. While not by my own hand, I still own responsibility in that innocent life almost was being lost, simply because I was there. It was a bar and grill that we set our eyes on for our next target. Preparation for the robbery wasn’t that extensive being that the bar and grill was relatively small with a capacity of about a hundred or so. The type of people who went to this place was middle to upper class young folks who were probably fresh out of college starting their new careers. These people led a life that I always wanted. A life that seemed out of reach because I didn’t have the tools they had. But not having the same tools isn’t a major factor in me not being able to have that type of life. It is their decision making abilities that separates me from them. Because when it comes down to it, making good decisions is what separates those of us that make it in this life from those of us that fail. This is a proven fact to me because that’s the difference between my sister and me. We didn’t have all the best tools growing up, but my sister has done well for herself because she has made some very good decisions growing up where I had not, which is why I am in prison now.

My responsibility was again to be the floor man. As the floor man I was to hold everyone in central area. There were about 30 to 40 people in the bar and grill that night. I gathered them all in an area where it was relatively clear of anything that could obstruct me view and control of my victims. This area was in the center of the small bar and grill, and might have been the dance floor. I told everyone to sit down on the floor and they did as I asked. I could feel everyone’s eyes watching me, wondering if they were going to make it through the ordeal. They were scared and unsure of my attentions after I got their money. When you are pointing a gun at people, the things they will do and say out of fear will make you feel like you are the biggest thing since sliced bread. At least with me it did. It’s a feeling of power, a twisted power that will have a person do whatever you want. The problem with that is, this power you feel is not one given respect and love, but is given out of fear. So however crazy this may sound, at the same time I felt as if I were a big man, I also felt terribly small because deep inside I hated the way those people looked at me. To be completely honest, I really felt like a piece of shit!

To fill the time my accomplices would spend getting all the money out of the registers and safe I made a habit of having the people, I was watching as the floor man, give me all their personal wallets and jewelry. Most people gave up what they had without a problem, but this night wasn’t going to go the same as others. This night had something very different in store for a group of armed robbers.

As most of the people in the bar and grill that night fully cooperated with me and all my demands there was one woman who just couldn’t bring herself to cooperate with who she probably considered be the scum of the earth. I remember her being very pretty with a perfect little body. I could tell right away that she hated me. She was highly intoxicated that night which gave her courage to defy the orders of a man that had a semiautomatic .40 caliber gloc pointed in her direction. It was almost as if she wanted to die, at least that’s what I thought at first. Now I know that she didn’t want to die, this woman was just looking to enjoy her night, then I came along treating her and her friends. Her anger for me and my actions were amplified by her intoxication which only made everything worst.

It was her turn to give me her personal items. She had a book bag she protected as if it had a million dollars inside. I told the pretty young lady to give me the bag as I reached to grab it. The woman told me “fuck you!” which through me off my cool for a second. I got more forceful with the woman grabbing her bag with a little strength now. She fought me for it, and I found myself in a full tug of war for the bag. Her friends were crying out in extreme fear to their drunken friend to let me have the bag. She heard nothing they said and continued to fight me fiercely for the bag. Finally realizing that this woman wasn’t going to back down I let go of the bag and told her with anger in my voice to keep it. Apart of me knew that if I would have continued to fight with the woman for the bag that something bad would have happened.

I left her alone instructing her friends to keep her calm and on the floor. I continued to collect personal items from the rest of the people without any additional problems, which was a surprise to me because I was sure that once people saw that I would back down under pressure, that they would refuse my demands without any consequences, that more would follow the lead of the young pretty drunken woman. But they did as I demanded and by the time my accomplices came from the back office with the manager everyone had quieted down from the situation I was involved in moments earlier. We began to escort everyone into the men’s restroom. We started the practice of locking people up in an earlier robbery so that we could get a clean getaway without being seen what direction we were going.

The last few people were entering the restroom when I noticed that the drunken woman who I had problems with was going to be the last one in the restroom. I knew then that there was going to be another problem with her before we were able to leave. She was looking not at me but through me with a fire in her eyes that revealed the heat of her anger, a heat that could put the sun to shame. I positioned myself along side of the door of the restroom, a position that would keep me clear of the woman. I knew what she was capable of and I had no intentions on dealing with her again. My strategy seemed to be working because as the drunken woman started to head into the bathroom, she focused her anger on a new target. My accomplice who’d positioned himself directly behind the line of people being escorted into the restroom, and as a result was now directly behind the drunken woman, became who she focused her anger on.

The woman was about two feet into the restroom when she turned around and lunged forward toward my accomplice with her fist ready to pound on him screaming “you asshole.” Here’s when time seemed to slow like a scene on the matrix. I watched my accomplice’s finger pull slowly on the trigger of his 9mm. He screamed at the top of his lungs for the woman to get back. I stood there frozen with my mouth wide open wondering if my accomplice’s finger was going to pull on the trigger hard enough for the gun to explode. The woman had no fear in her attempted attack on my accomplice but her friends, more soundly of mind, had feared for her and acted heroically in grabbing the young drunken woman’s back pack, which was now strapped to her shoulders, forcing her back into the bathroom. My accomplice’s finger relaxed in its struggle with the trigger but still his body was tense. I quickly close the restroom door and stuck something in the handle to prevent the door from opening. My accomplices and I ran out of the place and jumped into our getaway car and took off.

I sat in silence as we drove back to my apartment. I was thinking about how close we all were to having had murdered an innocent. That woman’s friends not only saved her, but they unintentionally saved us also. I think about how close I was to being involved in the taking of something that can not be replaced. How does one deal with that? In prison I sleep, play games, eat, talk, and work with people who have stolen a life from someone. These people are no different than anyone else I’ve met in my short life. The only thing with them is that they carry a heavy burden, one that stays with them for life. I learned how special life is from those who have taken life. They tell me of their pain, a pain that is not born out of self pity but born from a sin that was committed, one that in their minds can not be forgiven. Although I can’t fully relate to that pain, I can certainly understand the burden they carry, because I was almost there.

By Charles A Gosman (AZ DOC inmate)

Those who have taken a life will be the first to tell you how irreplaceable life is. So love life and love those who have had, have, and will have life because it is a blessing!