They Released Him From Jail at the Wrong Time
I worried that I couldn’t get him help and he’d be right back on the streets
I’ve been writing on here about a man in his mid-30s who I’ve known since he was eleven years old — M. I should put his story in a chronological order so you can know his trauma as an infant.
That’s all the background I’ll give for now.
He’s been in and out of jail in San Bernardino during the past five years and lives in an area of about two square miles, Del Rosa Boulevard and Highland.
During this latest stint in county jail he called me and said he was going to change. No question. Adamant. He’d go into a program I mentioned to him. He wanted me to be proud, especially since I’m the only Dad he’s ever had and my wife is the only Mom.
He also wanted to spend Christmas with us. I told him it was up to our kids and that if he was in a program then they’d likely say yes. He could also have visits with his 10-year-old daughter on a regular basis in the program. I’d drive her out to see him.
M had only seen her about three times in three years because of life on the streets.
We know him because we adopted his sister out of foster care when she was a few years — and our others are adopted…
