Troy's Times - September 1st, 2006
Hi Friend! (Some ch^racters in th1s newsletter have been altered to keep it from being filtered out as spam) IN THIS ISSUE
“It is not important How we come to the events in our lives, but how we Deal with those events”- Troy
This week’s article: From Hole to Whole “What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters,
compared to what lies within us.” The “Hole” was a 6 by 9 foot cell, containing a steel bunk
bed, a stainless-steel toilet connected to a stainless-steel sink, and
a stainless-steel shower. I was locked in this cell for 24 hours a day,
with the exception of one hour a day when I was sometimes, and I want
to reiterate, sometimes, let out to pace back and forth in what looked
like a small dog kennel. If I was lucky, I didn’t have to share
the space with a roommate. There were several of these cells lined up in an isolated part of the
prison. The people housed in the cells were the troublemakers of the institution;
many of them were mentally challenged and probably shouldn't have been
within the confines of a traditional prison setting. Hour after hour,
day after day, week after week they would beat on the doors and scream.
There was never a quiet moment. I never got any proper rest, but instead
learned to catch a few winks as it subsided to a dull roar. The steel door which provided the entrance into the cell contained a
small slit in the center, which when opened up, provided the means through
which they would slide food trays. As I stated previously, many of those
sent to the hole were looking for trouble. You may be minding your own
business and the next thing you know, your psychopath roommate decides
that it is a good idea to throw a cup full of urine and feces in the guards’
faces when they open up the slot to slide in the food tray. As bad as this all was, it was not the worst part of what I had to endure.
The worst part was not knowing what my family, friends, scholarship committees,
and teachers were being told. All I knew was that I was considered a “risk
to the security of the institution” and that my case was under review.
Without a doubt, everyone would believe the warden over me. After all,
why wouldn’t they just naturally accept that I had found trouble
once again? I could see the anger on my dad’s face and the tears
in my mother’s eyes as clearly as if they had been standing right
in front of me. That’s how I spent my time. If I could not distract
my mind with the book that I was reading multiple times over or busy myself
with thinking about actual schoolwork, I spent my time torturing myself
with countless conversations played out in my head about how Troy had
let everyone down again. Because I was in the hole, they didn’t have to let any mail that
I sent leave the prison and they didn’t have to let any reach me.
I could imagine my family’s letters going unanswered and them assuming
the worst. I knew for a fact that I had failed to complete the classes
that I was taking and doubted that I would be allowed to make that up.
“Sorry Professor, I couldn’t finish my assignment because
I got sent to the hole.” Not exactly the conversation that you want
to have with your professor. Of course that, along with my current situation
was sure to be reported to my scholarship committee. That would be gone
for good. For two months that was my torture. Sixty days of living in a tiny cage
along with the animals of FCI Florence. I was losing weight, I had become
pale, and I had read the same book six times. Up to that point I had always
believed that things happened for a reason, but I have to tell you my
faith was being tested. I had always believed that I could learn something
from any situation I was placed in, but at that point, the little voice
was starting to come through again, “Why is this happening to you
Troy? All you're trying to do is improve yourself, all you're trying to
do is give yourself a chance to succeed when you're released, all you're
trying to do is get an education. Why is this happening? Why do you even
bother?” As it turned out, what I thought could have been some of the worst news
ever, turned out to be my family and friends coming to the rescue. All
of the conversations that I had made up in my head, my father’s
anger, my mother’s tears, couldn’t have been farther from
the truth. In reality, my family and friends grew suspicious of my circumstances
as soon as they heard that I had been sent to the hole. Not only did they
not believe a word of it, but the more they received the runaround from
the warden, the more concerned they grew. My family and friends, including those well connected friends on the
scholarship committee started calling up their friends and their friends
called their friends. Twenty-eight senators and congressmen total, including
Strom Thurman and Newt Gingrich, along with the Head of the Federal Bureau
of Prisoners were apprised of my situation and they all called the warden.
In the end, the situation started to gain such a high profile that the
warden decided to eliminate the problem as quickly as he could by transferring
me to another prison. Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing from there. I was quickly
shipped off to FCI Englewood. Shifted like cattle from one pen to another,
I was informed that asbestos removal was making things tighter than usual.
Within the individual housing units 150 inmates shared a pod consisting
of a common area and individual cubes. The common area was approximately
20 by 40 feet and housed four showers, three sinks, three toilets and
a microwave oven. No stalls, no privacy, barely room to breath. On the
east wall guys were taking showers, on the north wall guys were using
the bathroom, on the west wall three people were brushing their teeth,
and on the south my fellow inmates were lined up to heat their food in
the microwave oven. Of course there was some respite if you could call it that. I was also
assigned to a cube. Within this small cube (which I would estimate to
be 10 by 12 feet) there were three bunk beds to accommodate my five lovely
cell mates and me. My experience at FCI Florence had taught me that it
was hard enough to find one guy you could let your guard down around.
I couldn’t even imagine what this was going to be like. I was in this setting for only a very short time before the realization
set in that there was no way that I could spend the next five years in
those conditions. Again came the voice “Why is this happening, Troy?
Why have you been singled out? Why have you been moved to such a horrible
place? How are you going to do this time?” I tried to keep my outlook
as positive as possible. The only way I knew to do that was to start over
again. I needed to feel myself working towards my goals, otherwise, I
would start to feel the reality of my new conditions, just barely above
that of the hole. I concentrated on staying positive and on the tasks
at hand to get me back on track. All the while I was trying to control
the voice. My work area was a desk in the corner similar to the one in the previous
facility. At FCI Florence, however, I had only had one roommate to share
a desk with and we worked opposite shifts at the prison furniture plant.
At FCI Englewood, I shared with five people who were constantly coming
or going. Whether they were writing letters home or doing some other activity
that required the use of the desk, I soon found that sometimes sitting
on the floor with my books and papers piled around me had to be good enough. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I just summarized that whole experience in a few brief paragraphs. Possibly
the most important six months of my life, and it probably didn’t
take you more than ten minutes to read. The most crucial, desperate moment
in my transformation, and we just blew right by it. But there was a warning
there. You will be tested; and you will have to choose to pass. That was the second time in my life that I had everything torn away from
me. I remember the day that my father came home and told us we were moving
like it was yesterday. I remember it because that was the first time in
my young life that I learned that life is not fair. Do you remember the quote at the top of this ezine? “It is not
important how we come to the events in our life. What is important is
how we deal with those events.” The day that my father came home and told our entire family that we were
moving to a strange new town, I had my foundation ripped out from under
me. In my fourteen-year-old estimation, I might as well have been sent
to the hole or transferred to the worst kind of prison. I was going to
a place I didn’t want to go, for no good reason, to be around people
that I didn’t want to be around. I was being ripped from a place
of security, encouragement and success and being tossed into the unknown. What did I do? I spent the next fifteen years of my life letting my future
disintegrate while I rotted my brain with drugs, all the while absolving
myself of any blame. Why? Because it wasn’t fair. I absolutely wallowed
in that thought and then compounded it with my drug paranoia. My grades
weren’t fair. Being denied play time and getting cut from the team
wasn’t fair. The way my parents treated me wasn’t fair. I don’t think that I deliberately set off down a path to self-destruction,
but once I got myself into a little bit of trouble, I let my circumstances
be an excuse to let me continue down the wrong path. I saw the look on
my old man’s face and I thought, “This hurts you huh? Good.”
I spent so much time feeling sorry for myself that I never even realized
that it wasn’t my dad or the move that ruined me. It was me. In the first part of my book, I talk about finding your hope and building
momentum, but when I was sent to the hole and then transferred to FCI
Englewood, my hopes were challenged, my momentum was taken, and my path
was nowhere in sight. For the first time in years, I was hearing that
little voice again, questioning my path and my ability to continue my
journey. My power, my hopes, and my future were being taken from me. I
was facing another five years in one of the worst prisons in the U.S.
and for the first time in years, I started to notice who was dealing drugs
inside and how I could get them. Those situations, the really tough ones that seem to take away all hope
and often come up on you in a blink of an eye, are tests, and tests are
meant to be hard. I had to choose to pass that test. I had to look desperate
times in the face and say, “I am not the person I once was and no
matter how difficult life becomes, I will no longer choose that easy path
because nothing in life that is worthwhile is ever easy.” If I had
let my power be taken, if I had gone back to serving dead time, if I had
turned back to drugs, the Troy Evans released from FCI Englewood three
months later would have been a different person altogether. In those three
months, I could have thrown it all away. On the other hand, if I could only have chosen the better path when I
was a kid, I could have been a pro ball player. I’d be able to travel
to Australia and New Zealand. (Ex-cons are not allowed in those countries.)
I could take my son hunting. (I’m not allowed to own a firearm).
I would have had my entire life to fill with all of the successes that
I could muster rather than losing 22 ½ years to drugs and prison
time. I cannot give you a map to move forward when you lose your path, but
a map does exist. It is the one that you will draw as you travel. It may
not be able to tell you how to move forward, but it can tell you where
you’ve been. My advice is, if and when you do lose your way, there
is never any shame in starting over. In fact, that is often the best way
to get back on the path. Go back to the point that you last knew you were
on the right track and start again. I had to start the permission process
all over again at FCI Englewood. I even had to redo several of my assignments.
But, while I was retracing my steps to get back on the right path, I was
choosing to pass my test. The same will be true for you. There is no such
thing as absolute failure unless you choose it by giving up. Choose to
succeed.
Read a letter from a
recent client - Click hear to read! I often had a hopeless feeling knowing that all I could offer were words of encouragement and support and the sharing of my own downfall....that was until I became partners with a company called DrugTALK. DrugTALK is a v1rtual life coach dedicated to helping families, parents and young people overcome the threat and dangers of drugs through the privacy of their home. They do this by delivering the insight, tools and activities needed for parents to protect their children by putting vital protection principles into practice, often without parents even realizing it. Their programs and tools are based on decades of research and supported by a dynamic team of communication experts, family intervention specialists, treatment professionals, narcotics intelligence officers, life coaches, parents and---most importantly---teens who have faced the world of drugs first-hand. The CEO of DrugTALK happened to attend one of my speaking engagements
and after talking I skeptically took one of his Drug Reference Guides
and a DVD. Having lived through the hell of drug abuse I had my whole
adult life been conv1nced that nothing short of expensive in-patient treatment
centers could break the hold that drugs have on our young people. After
thoroughly studying what DrugTalk has to offer I was blown away- I can
honestly say that h^d these tools been available to me during my teenage
years that I most likely would have avoided the hell I put myself and
family through.
Featured product for this issue! MY FIRST PUBLISHED BOOK- " From Desper^tion to Dedication: Lessons You Can Bank On"…Click
here to order
Download a free chapter of my book, The Preface is available here - Click to begin! If you live in or near one of the following cit1es where Troy will be speaking over the next few months, please contact The Ev^ns Groups for details on an opportunity that does not come around often- see Troy present for free!
Sign up for my affiliate program and earn money while you sleep! Click here for details! Commission for booking me - I offer a comm1ssion of 10%-20% ($750.00-$1,500.00) for anyone who refers me for speaking engagements and/or bulk product sales. Please contact The Evans Group for details. Subscriber opinions and impressions of this electronic newsletter: I invite subscribers to write me with their quest1ons as well and I will answer them in the next issue. Also readers, I invite you to send in profiles of yourself and how you have used the inform^tion from my electronic newsletter, products or speech in your personal and/or professional lives. Once a month I will feature one individual for all others to read about!
Note: You are free to reprint any portion of this electronic newsletter as long as the portion remains complete and unaltered, and the “About the Author” section is included. About the Author- Troy Evans is a profess1onal speaker and author who resides in Phoenix, AZ with his wife Pam and his dog Archibald. Troy travels the country delivering keynote presentations, and since his release from prison has taken the corporate and association pl^tforms by storm. Overcoming adversity, adapting to change and pushing yourself to realize your full potential- other speaker’s talk about these issues, Troy has walked them.
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