You Can Run but You Can't Hide (19 page)

before that, however, the president of Kirby died. The new presi-

dent was a man named Norm Mahoney, whose son Brian was best

friends with Jim Darnell. I’d soon find out that that wasn’t a good

thing.

The company’s annual sales-award banquet was held in Chicago.

I was so excited, I called my mom and asked her to accompany me

as my guest. She had never been to Chicago. The company put us

up in a high-rise hotel. Neither of us had ever been up so high. I am

S a l e s m a n o f t h e Ye a r

113

afraid of heights, so I slept on the floor because I was too scared to

look out the window from my bed.

Everyone who sold Kirbys in the world was at the ceremony, in-

cluding the new president and his son. Mom and I found my name

listed in the program as the third award to be given out. She was so

proud to see my name in that booklet.

The first two awards were handed out. Each recipient went up to

the podium, gave a short speech, received the award, and had a pic-

ture taken with the president of the company before sitting back

down. I’ve always liked public speaking, so I prepared a short speech

for myself just in case I had the chance to say thanks. I wanted to ac-

knowledge what Herman Cadillo had done for me. I was a broken

man who found purpose and meaning when he plucked me from my

parents’ basement. I wanted to tell the audience that God showed

me the light and led me from my darkness. If I could change my life,

anyone could. That was the message I hoped to share.

I heard the master of ceremonies introduce my award. I straight-

ened myself, sat up with pride, and took my napkin from my lap

when he announced that the President’s Ring was being awarded to

Duane “Dog” Chapman. I was about to get up to accept it when I

heard him say, “And now, for our next award . . .”

Mom and I were in shock. I didn’t know what happened. I was

embarrassed and humiliated in front of everyone I worked with.

Worst of all, I was ashamed because this took place in front of my

mom. At the end of the ceremony, I went backstage where I first

met Brian Mahoney.

“Dog, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but the company

found out about your record. They don’t want you out selling our

product or affiliated with our good company name.”

“But I won the Salesman of the Year award, and I’m supposed to

negotiate my contract to start training salesmen in the main

office. . . .” I was dumbfounded. I didn’t see
this
coming. I felt com-

pletely blindsided and betrayed. I had served this company with

years of hard work.

“Yes. About that job. That offer is null and void. Jim Darnell

has told me everything about your past. I know who you really are.

You’re a convicted murderer.”

I wanted to grab that smug son of a bitch by the throat and

strangle him. Then an absolutely horrifying thought occurred to

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Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

me. I had $200,000 worth of Kirbys in inventory back in Colorado.

I wasn’t just a salesman anymore. I had become the youngest fac-

tory distributor in the history of the company. They couldn’t do

this to me. But then, I didn’t think the great state of Texas could

convict me for murder-one.

I punched Brian in the chest. Hard.
Blam.
I told him to eat shit

and die.

I turned around and realized a small crowd had now gathered

around us. I could hear people whispering, “Oh, my God. They

were right. He
is
a killer.”

I turned to my mom and said, “Let’s go.”

I saw all of the salesmen I had worked with over the years stand-

ing and staring. Not a single one stuck up for me. I didn’t give a crap

anymore. I was better than these guys. The Lord had been preparing

me for this moment. He kept saying, “Get ready. Your life is going to

change very soon. You’re going into something else.” I tried to head

Him off, outsmart God. Ha. Good luck. When the Lord calls your

name, you come running.

I flew back to Colorado feeling down, but not out. Brian told me

I could liquidate my inventory, but I couldn’t sell them door-to-

door. It would be a loss, but not a total wash. At least I still had my

dignity, even if I didn’t have my job. For some reason, I didn’t feel

desperate. God had my back. I had kept my word, my promise to

Him. I didn’t ride Harleys. I knew He wouldn’t let me fall. I wasn’t

the same man who went to Huntsville and surely wasn’t the same

guy who came out. One thing was very clear after Chicago. I would

forever be branded a killer. My conviction would haunt me for the

rest of my life. I hadn’t made that connection since getting out, be-

cause things had been going great. I had an awakening in Chicago.

No matter how successful I became, no matter how hard I tried to

change, the world would always see me as a convicted murderer.

That bothered me a lot more than losing my job.

When I got home, I got down on my knees to pray to God.

“Lord, is this what You want? Because of You, I became the best

vacuum salesman in the world. But now, that’s no longer an option.

You have shown me over and over that You have a plan. I need to

know that this is what You want me to do. I need a sign, Lord. I

don’t want to fall back into my darkness or turn back to a life of

crime. I am not desperate, but I need Your help, Your guidance.”

S a l e s m a n o f t h e Ye a r

115

My biggest fear in what the Lord was telling me was that I would

become a rat. A rat drops a dime, collects his money, and runs away

laughing. That wasn’t who I was. I couldn’t accept the fact that peo-

ple would see me that way. The Lord kept showing me that bounty

hunting was the direction He wanted me to take. He kept giving me

instant signs. I ignored Him for as long as I could. The Lord assured

me I would not be a rat. If I became a bounty hunter, I would be-

come a collector, an enforcer. To be a true Christian, you have to do

your best to be Christlike. I wanted to live that way. I couldn’t be a

saint, but I knew I could be a soldier.

“Show me that
this
is Your will. I need to know that I won’t fail

You. I guess we’re going to do things the hard way, huh?”

The Lord spoke to me and said, “I will make you fishers of men.

Follow Me, Duane. Who was the greatest bounty hunter of all? Je-

sus Christ.” I was up to the task. I knew my true calling was bounty

hunting.

C h a p t e r Tw e n t y - o n e

GETTING MY

BOYS BACK

After Zebadiah died,
I yearned to see my sons Duane Lee

and Leland. I wanted to be their father again. I heard LaFonda and

Jim Darnell had moved to Colorado Springs, about ninety miles

south of Denver. It wasn’t fair to them or to me that LaFonda sepa-

rated us. Every time I asked her to visit, she turned me down. I’ll

never understand her anger toward me. I know I let her down by my

actions in Pampa. She needed a husband and a father for the kids,

and I couldn’t be there. As much as I wanted to be—Lord knows I

loved my family—I had to pay for my crime.

I didn’t know where LaFonda and the boys were living. All I had

was a phone number. I became like Sherlock Holmes trying to track

them down. I even called the Colorado Springs Department of Wa-

ter and Power to see if I could come up with an address. It was late

at night, so the guy who answered the phone was the janitor. I ex-

plained my situation, hoping he was a father too, praying he would

understand my need to see my sons and find it in his heart to help

me out. He was an angel on earth. Ten minutes later, I had their

home address.

I thought about straight-up knocking on the front door. I

dreamed about Duane Lee and Leland jumping into my arms, hug-

ging and kissing their daddy. Leland was a baby, barely nine months

old, when I went to prison. Duane Lee was a toddler. I missed out

on so many blessed moments of their lives, moments I’ll never get

G e t t i n g M y B oy s B a c k

117

back. I have to take the blame for that. Even so, I hoped they still

loved and missed me as much as I did them. It took me months to

do anything more than watch them from across the street.

Christmas was coming. I asked my mom to drive me down to

Colorado Springs so I could leave a telescope for Duane Lee and

a toy truck for Leland on the front porch. I dropped the hand-

wrapped gifts, rang the bell, and ran like a bat out of hell. I was still

too scared to make direct contact. I was afraid they’d reject me.

That would be the worst possible outcome, given how much my

heart ached to have them back. Mom burned rubber pulling away

from the house like we had just robbed the joint. Her little Volk-

swagen Bug began swerving and jackknifing on the icy back roads.

When we finally stopped, I pounded my fists on the dashboard and

let out a cry. I knew in my heart LaFonda was pointing to our car

and telling the boys, “There goes your deadbeat dad.”

Even though I never loved Ann, I was hurting because she took

my babies away. I was out looking for another woman. First I met a

beautiful girl named Penny. She had long sexy black hair and dark

eyes, and she dressed like a cowgirl. I took one look at her and

thought,
Mmmmm.
Later that night I met a bushy-haired, sexy Bar-

bra Streisand–looking woman sitting at the same bar. She wasn’t my

usual type, but something about her drew me in. She told me her

name was Lyssa and her husband was an Assembly of God minis-

ter. Screech! So much for that girl. Well, not so fast. I was intrigued

that the minister’s wife was sitting alone in a bar, so I struck up a

conversation. I asked her if she understood the Spirit of the Lord,

the Holy Ghost, and what giving God His glory meant.

“Of course I do! I went to Rama Bible College with my hus-

band.” She told me her husband, the minister, was unfaithful to

her, so she kicked him out and filed for divorce. Blam!

Ann did not share my love of the Lord. I thought about a partic-

ular scripture from the Bible that says, “Be ye not unequally yoked

together with unbelievers.” I was unequally yoked with Ann. It

would be like a Bible-loving choirboy falling for an atheist drunk. It

just doesn’t work. When Lyssa told me she understood the Lord, I

offered her a thousand bucks on the spot to have my baby. I was se-

rious, too! I promised her she’d enjoy the experience, and even told

her she could visit the baby whenever she wanted. Believe it or not,

she said yes! It took me a week to finally get her into bed, but by

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Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

then, we were already in love. We got married by an Indian chief in

the Colorado mountains.

Lyssa got pregnant right away. She laughed at all of my jokes

and was smarter than me. I love smart women. The more intelligent

they are, the greater my desire for them. I thought Lyssa was my

perfect mate.

I wanted to name the baby Geronimo if it was a boy. Up to that

point, I had only fathered boys, so it never occurred to me that

Lyssa could have a girl. But she did. On June 8, 1982, Lyssa gave

birth to my darling Barbara Katie. Our son Tucker was born one

year later and Baby Lyssa came along in June 1987.

By that time, we both knew our relationship had changed. I was

getting restless, looking for a woman who could walk alongside me

on the same path. I thought Lyssa was the one. Lord knows I loved

her. But her dreams and mine were no longer headed in the same di-

rection. She wanted to spend the rest of her life living in a secluded

cabin in the woods. I wanted the bright lights of Hollywood
.
Lyssa

knew she could never match my yoke.

It took me five years of fighting LaFonda in court before I was

finally awarded visitation rights to see my boys on weekends. As

happy as
I
was, the news wasn’t exactly music to
their
ears. By that time, Lyssa and I had welcomed two more children into our lives,

but Duane Lee and Leland were absolutely frightened to be alone

with me. In many ways, I was a stranger to them.

It took time for all of us to get know one another again. It was a

slow process, sometimes frustrating and heartbreaking, but eventu-

ally we began to bond. I showed them affection, giving them lots of

hugs and kisses whenever they’d let me close enough.

I tried to instill a sense of faith in God into their lives. I knew the

value that had added to my life as a young boy. It was all I knew, and

it was the greatest blessing I could offer as a father. Every night, I

prayed to the Lord to help me show my boys I was a good man and

a worthy role model. I needed the Lord to help guide the boys back

into my life at their own pace. I had waited seven years to get my

boys back; I could wait until they were ready.