Halfway Back to Real Life (Part 2)

Today is a big day - for the first time in the history of this blog, I am physically typing these words onto this page. No one is more grateful than my beautiful scribe Sallie- for 9 months she has taken my handwritten letters, scrubbed them for inappropriate content and typed them up for me...she was happy to turn things over to me...

WOW! What a crazy couple of weeks! As I sit in my office typing it's all still a bit dreamy - hard to believe that I'm at least halfway back to what I remember life being like. I have absolutely loved being back around my family and loved ones. The halfway house is located about 15 miles from our home. I have such mixed feelings about being so close to them. On one hand, it is such a beautiful miracle that I am where I am - after having only been in prison for 8.5 months. It was such a cold, dreary, hopeless day back in January when the judge told us that I was going away for 5 years. The part of this that I wasn't expecting was how hard it is being so close to my family and not being able to go home to them.

Early on in my incarceration, my good friend Brandon Stokey gave me some very good advice, "never, ever, ever, believe what other inmates tell you". This advice came in handy during so many different circumstances over the past 9 months. But for some reason, once I found out that I was being transferred to the halfway house, I completely forgot about this advice. For the days leading up to me leaving Rifle, so many inmates weighed in to tell me what to expect at the halfway house. I had so many questions about what the program was like, what the rules were, what the food was like, etc...and just about everything that I was told by my astute colleagues was wrong. How did I ever forget what Stokey had told me?

Here is a quick list of the expectations that I had coming into this past week vs. (the reality)-

1. You will be locked down for 24 hours and then you are free to leave the facility with permission. (You are locked down for the first 5 days with the exception of being able to make one trip to Walmart for hygiene supplies)
2. There is a matrix progression system that will allow you to graduate to living at your own home with an ankle monitor within 90 days. (The matrix system essentially takes 6 months before you can qualify to move home with an ankle monitor)
3. You'll be able to go and visit your family as soon as you have a job (You are not allowed out of the house for anything other than work for the first 8 weeks. After those 8 weeks, based on your progression through the program you can get 20, 30 or 40 hours per week of leisure time to spend however you want)
4. You'll be able to attend church whenever you want - it's against the law for them to not let you attend church (You can't attend church until after the 8 weeks is up and it will count as leisure time)
5. You'll be able to go to the gym anytime you want (Once again, you can't go to the gym until after the 8 weeks are up)
6. Your family can visit you anytime they want (Adults can schedule 1 hour visits to come and see you but because there are sex offenders who live at the halfway house, minors are not allowed)
7. The food sucks (The food isn't any better or worse than prison food)

Those are some of the major misconceptions that I had coming into last week - I'm positive there were many more. 

As I mentioned in my last post, the halfway house reminds me of a small hospital. There is a front reception area, a cafeteria and then 14 or 15 rooms. Unfortunately, the rooms are setup like army barracks with 10 bunk beds per room. And wouldn't you know it - new guys always get a top bunk. There was a time in my life (when my little brother Jason was my bunkmate) that the top bunk was the place to be. I have far outgrown that feeling. The top bunk is terrible - I'm literally 9 inches from the ceiling. And with 10 other dudes in a room, the nights sound and smell like hippos in heat. The snoring, the farting, the burping...it is all bad. Fortunately, I'm only at the facility to sleep - I am spending the rest of my days back at work. The facility is located exactly five miles from the office so I have been running to work 4 or 5 days a week. It has really helped me to keep up my cardio game while not being allowed at the gym. 

On the Thursday after I arrived at the facility, they allowed Sallie to come and pick me up and take me to Walmart to buy anything that I needed. We had a 3 hour window to drive there, shop and drive back. Fortunately, it was relatively close so we were able to "park" and "talk" and "talk" and "talk some more" and then "talk again",  something we had been waiting to do for quite some time. The conversation was awesome! And so romantic there in the back of my truck in a Walmart parking lot. I'm sure that Sallie had been dreaming about this bucket list item her entire life. My best friend Bevin and his wife Sara and their kids were in town and they drove our kids over to Walmart to see me. It was so amazing to spend time with my family and dear friends - even for just a few minutes at Walmart. It's the little things that I've truly learned to appreciate over the past 9 months. 

The next morning I was able to sit down and meet with my case manager. She was able to explain how the program works and what I needed to do to succeed in it. Keep in mind that these halfway houses are meant to help people who have been in prison transition back into the communities. The vast majority of the guys in this halfway house have been in prison for elongated periods of time - so they need some time to readjust. Although I can appreciate the purposes of the program, it's really a one-size-fits-all program, which can be frustrating. That being said, I couldn't be more grateful to be where I am at. 

For simplicity of example, the program reminds me a lot of beginning life as a child again. You have to ask permission to do everything - and the only way that you can earn privileges is through good behavior. Chores, being kind to each other, maintaining a job, paying rent, washing your clothes, cleaning your room - you have to show that you can be a responsible member of society again - and I get it. It may be frustrating for me but I can see how a program like this can really help prisoners integrate back into the communities that put them away to begin with. And plenty of the guys that are in the house have shown that they can't handle the freedom - many have been arrested and taken out of the house in handcuffs for possession of drugs and one guy overdosed in our bathroom and nearly died right there on the floor. The temptations can be overwhelming for many of these guys and there has to be a process whereby they can show that they are ready to integrate back into society. 

My work hours are currently 8-8 everyday but Sunday. I leave the facility at 7am and get back at 9pm  - it has been so nice to get back to work. We are assigned chores for the week and my current chore is to clean up the smokers porch - which is a terrible chore. For some reason, it appears that nicotine has an affect on people that prevents them from being able to place spent cigarettes into a round garbage receptacle - the drugs affects require them to throw the cigarettes directly onto the ground - or so it seems. 

As frustrating as the struggle can be, being halfway home is a dream come true. My life now resembles the one that I once knew - and I love every minute of it. 

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC

Halfway Back To Real Life (Part I) - (Centennial Community Transition Center)

On Tuesday, October 16, 2018 at 2:30 a.m. I began my journey back through the fires of hell. The routes that prisoners are transported along are like a gigantic subway line running through the major prisons in Denver. Rifle is literally the last stop on the subway line so in order to get back to Denver, prisoners must travel back through all of the major prisons. As you progress along the "subway line" you pick up more and more prisoners - each stop containing progressively more hardened criminals. By the time you make it to your final destination, the bus is separated into 3 main areas caged off from each other - life sentences in the front - those being released in the back - everything else in the middle. 

I didn't sleep at all the night that we left. I had so many thoughts and emotions as I took the last walk through the facility - the last walk through the hallway that led to my cell, the last walk across the yard that led to the track, the last walk across the grass that led to my ride out of prison and the last drive out of Rifle that led to my freedom. It was pitch dark outside and freezing cold - but I couldn't help but notice the beauty of the moment. The facility is located in an absolutely beautiful valley, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. If you didn't know any better you'd think they put the facility there for the views - the truth is that they are there as a reminder that there's only one way out of the valley and that's in a van driven by guards. I was not sad whatsoever to be leaving Rifle but I was sad to be leaving some very good relationships behind. I knew that there were many people, both guards and inmates, who I would never see again. But after nearly 9 months of incarceration, I was taking the ride down the canyon for the last time.

The thing that I was regretting most about the transport was having to wear handcuffs again - on both my hands and my ankles. I've never really received an explanation as to why the handcuffs are necessary, especially for those of us that were on the ride to be released. But they are required and for those of you who have never had a pair of handcuffs on, suffice to say, there is nothing worse. In fact, I've told Sallie multiple times that the two worst sounds in the world are the sound of handcuffs clanking shut around your wrists and the sound of a solid steel door slamming shut separating you freedom. I'll never get over either of those sounds. 

There were 3 of us that left Rifle. The first leg of our journey took me back to Delta, CO - it was about a 3 hour drive. I spent 3 weeks in Delta earlier this year on my way through the system to Rifle. Once we arrived in Delta we were transferred from a van into a large school bus. There were an additional 8 or 9 inmates that joined us from Delta. The bus was the same one on which I had nearly froze to death back in January. As our luck would have it, it was just as cold as we made our way through the high Colorado Mountain passes on our way over to Buena Vista, CO. We could see our breath for the entire 4 hour trip and all we had on were our prison scrubs- it was SO cold. Once we arrived in Buena Vista we were transferred to a nicer bus. This bus was the quintessential prison bus - it looked like a war machine. Bars on the windows, multiple armed guards in the front and back, segregated cages, etc. This was all required because at Buena Vista the highest security threat level prisoners were loaded up to ride with us. It was a 1.5 hour drive over to Cell House 5 located at the Territorial Prison in Canon City, CO. 

I wrote a lot about Cell House 5 during my first few blog posts. It's the oldest prison west of the Mississippi. It looks identical to what you would imagine a prison to look like - imagine Alcatraz, Shawshank or The Green Mile. Billy the Kid was a prisoner there. It consists of multiple floors of 10'x8' barred cells. It's absolutely wild inside because it is essentially a crossroads for prisoners who are headed out to their ultimate destinations. It is extremely loud inside of the prison because there are no doors to the cells - just bars - and guys talk, scream and fight ALL NIGHT. And if the prisoners don't keep you up, the rats will. It's a terrible place and I did not enjoy spending the night there. However, there was some joy in knowing that I was headed back through the system instead of out to one of the prisons - for the second night in a row, I didn't sleep at all. 

The next morning I was so exhausted from going 2 nights with no sleep. Normally, you'd get the opportunity to sleep on the bus but the handcuffs make that nearly impossible. We left Cell House 5 and made our way to Colorado Springs where we started dropping off inmates at different prison facilities. It was surreal to be back this close to home, seeing things I recognized and hadn't seen in nearly 9 months. After making multiple stops, we finally started heading towards Denver. We pulled into the Denver metro area at around 2 pm. They were taking those of us going to halfway houses to an old army base called Camp George West located in Golden, CO. In order to get there we had to take the 470 Freeway which passes within 3 miles of our home, my stomping grounds. I felt like I was in a dream as we drove down the freeway, past my office, the LDS Temple, familiar date night restaurants - I'd been praying and dreaming about this ride for a long time and it was all so suddenly happening. It was hard to come so close to my real life without being able to stop and smell the roses. However, I found myself overflowing with emotion, particularly gratitude for what was happening. An hour later we arrived at Camp George West where they took off my handcuffs for the last time ( I can promise you that). They informed us that our respective halfway house vans would be there to pick us up sometime in the next few hours and just like that the bus was gone. There were 8 of us who were headed to halfway houses - and we all stood there, dumbfounded that we no longer required guard supervision - it was an awesome feeling.  

There were only 2 of us headed to the Centennial Community Transition Center. After a couple hours of waiting, a van showed up and picked us up. Within minutes we were cruising through the downtown Denver area headed towards Centennial. The van pulled up at the house (it actually looks more like a small hospital), the doors opened and we unloaded. And for the first time in 9 months, I was halfway to being a fully liberated human. And it felt good. 


Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC

Hope Is A Good Thing...

The news felt like the most beautiful, perfect dream interrupting the most terrible of nightmares. On Tuesday, October 9th, my case manager announced my name over the prison PA system summoning me for a meeting. I made the walk across the yard to his office and sat down. As the words came out of his mouth my entire world slipped into slow motion-surely what he was telling me wasn't for real. 

"Congratulations Mr. Stephens, you have been accepted to the halfway house." And just like that, almost as quickly as it all began-my time in prison was over.

I hurried to the pay phone and dialed up the numbers that lead me to Sallie. Seconds later she was on the other end listening to the news. Fittingly enough, she was with one of our dearest friends, Debbie (Huber) Jones who've we've known since middle school. Debbie, her husband Mike, his brother Garrett and his wife Stacy, have been been right there since this began and so supportive of our family throughout this whole ordeal-so it was so perfect for one of them to be with Sallie as I passed on the news. Sallie's response summed it all up, "finally, it's over."

My fellow inmates were all excited to hear the news as well. But the fact is, it can be awkward to be leaving when so many of my friends remain. Almost every one of the other members of our fire team are waiting for any word on their future status. As it stands right now, 6 of the 20 members of our team are leaving in the next month. 13 of the other 14 are waiting on news. Every one of our cases is unique and there are many factors that will determine what happens next for everyone.

The next morning, October 10th, which happened to be Sallie's and my anniversary, I received word that I was leaving the following Tuesday. We were expecting a 6-8 week wait-it turned out to only be 6 days. The whole process of trying to get into the halfway house was miraculous-God's hand was visible at every step in the process-we are so grateful. What it really means is that by the time you are all reading this post, I'll be out of prison-and living within ten miles of my family. I'll be able to go back to work, attend church and hopefully within 90 days-I'll move back home permanently.

Stokey and I took our last run together this morning-I couldn't help but feel a little sentimental as we jogged our six miles one last time. It's so hard to properly portray what Stokey's friendship has done for me-it's safe to say that without his help, I would not have made the SWIFT team-and if I didn't make the team, there's no telling how everything ends up working out. Ironically enough, Stokey is applying to the same halfway house as me. Because everyone's situations are different, some take longer than mine. I hope his is not too long. 

Our last run together was just like our first-in a snowstorm. There was a time, about seven months ago, where I hated everything about running on that track with him. But as we jogged, I knew that I would miss working out on that dirt track-high in the mountains above Rifle, Colorado. It was on this track that I conditioned my body to withstand the rigors of firefighting. I'll never forget the blood, sweat and tears (now) that I shed on that track to make my time in prison pass quicker. 

As we finished our run, there were seven new guys standing there getting ready to run. I realized they were there to train for my spot on SWIFT. Stokey and Cheapshot told me to be the pacer for them. I looked at these seven new guys and I couldn't help but reflect back to the days when I was running, or trying to run that mile and a half in 12:00 minutes. I failed so many times, and when I did qualify it was by 1 second! As I paced these new recruits around the track it was absolutely impossible to hold back the tears - what stories the dirt on that track could tell... 

One of the more interesting points about leaving Rifle will be that over a two day period I will travel back through the same  facilities that I was housed in on the way here-even the really scary ones. The way the Colorado Department of Corrections transportation works is similar to a subway line-and Rifle is at the end of the line. So I will ride buses and vans back through the system until I arrive back in the Denver Metro area. Once I'm there the halfway house will come and pick me up. 

For those of you familiar with the Denver area, I'll be located near the Broncos practice facility in Dove Valley. That's only about one mile or two from our Spartan office and about 10 miles from my house. The halfway house is meant to help prisons transition back into "real life" after incarceration. Depending on how they handle the transition, it is possible to leave the house after a minimum of 90 days so I've heard and then move into you own place. As I mentioned, I'll be able to spend much more time with my family (sports, church, etc.) but will have to sleep at the halfway house every night-but will be able to earn leisure time and weekend passes. But "prison" as I know it, is over-265 days were more than enough for me.

I fully intend to continue to write on the blog. From what I've heard about the halfway house environment, I'll have plenty of stories to write about. As it stands right now, I've got another 10 months before I'm eligible for parole-so as far as the State of Colorado is concerned, prisoner #179321 is still on the active roster.

Sallie and I are overwhelmed with emotion. We felt at times like this day may never come-there were no guarantees. I wish that I could say that I never doubted that my Heavenly Father cared about our situation. There were some very, very dark days-even as late as last week, I was left wondering if any of our prayers were being heard. I know better than that-I could write pages and pages about the blessings that we've received over the past three years. That's the tricky part about faith, when we aren't getting what we are asking and hoping for, it overshadows all the good that is surrounding and carrying us during our trials. I never noticed all the blessings pouring over me, until well after the fact-something I need to get better at.  

To quote one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite movies (that now means even more because it's from the Shawshank Redemption). 

"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."

I hope the lights of Denver are as beautiful as I remember them. I hope that I am returning there as a better man. I hope I never forget everything I have learned. I hope I always remember to be humble. I hope I always remember to be "tough as hell and kind as Christ". I hope I'll never forget everything God has done for me. I hope I'll never forget how amazing my wife and kids are. I hope I'll always be grateful for such great friends and to be one back. I hope steak is as good as I remember it. I hope my dog Zeus remembers me. 

And so began the next chapter of our lives....

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC

Into The Deep

October 10th is usually one of the highlights of my year-it's the day that Sallie and I were married. It's so hard to believe that it's been 18 years since those two lovesick kids got married. This coming December will mark 24 years since I first kissed her in the back of my best friend's Explorer. With the exception of my two year LDS Church mission in Romania and my current 9 months in prison, we've been by each other's sides since we were 15 years old. I can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the extremes between the two times we've been apart.

Sallie and I got married on a bye week while I was playing football at BYU. Our reception was in Logan, where we both grew up. Sallie's mom put it all together, it was absolutely magical.

October 19 is my oldest daughter Maggie's birthday. She will be 17-something that I'm having a really hard time wrapping my mind around. Everyone warned Sal and I how fast our kids would grow up-and that cliche statement has become our reality. 

As we've told you, Maggie decided to do a study abroad of sorts, in Logan where she is living with her Uncle Bouk, Aunt Hailey and their two boys. (Bouk is Sallie's brother as well as one of my partners in Spartan.) Maggie has loved it there-especially being surrounded by family and close family friends. Both sets of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends..it's been good for her. Sal and I are both so happy that Maggie is happy but deep down it breaks both of our hearts to not have all of us under one roof. I regret that at a bare minimum, I will have missed her whole junior year of high school.

October 24 will be our only son Jack's birthday. I'm so proud of Jack, he has had to become the man of the house without me being there. I hate that this whole situation has forced that upon him as a 13 year old boy. Sallie told me the other day that she left something on in one of the cars so the battery was dead. Jack jumped it for her and I was so proud that he remembered how to do it. I had showed him a couple times, and even more proud that he remembered. When I talked to Jack he told me that he just looked it up on YouTube..well at least I taught him to be resourceful! He's always going above and beyond to take care of his mom and his sisters, I know he watches Sunday football with his mom just so he can help her manage her fantasy football team. I'm so proud of the man he is becoming-even with a broken leg and crutches, he is doing what he can to take care of his mom and sisters.

My other babies- Navy and Elizabeth don't have birthdays this month, I missed both while in here, that was tough on me. They've also both had situations in the past few weeks that made me heartbroken that I haven't been there to be a Dad.

These past few weeks have been mentally tough for me. The end of the fire season has left me with long stretches of free time-even after trying to fill my days with working out, reading, and writing. Gray, rain-soaked days have compounded the depressive boredom as we wait for any encouraging news on being accepted to the halfway house. As I approach the nine month mark of being incarcerated, I'm often left hearing the judge's words, "this sentence will cause collateral damage in your life" echoing in my mind. I'm left contemplating how much damage can be done when a husband and a dad can't be there to support his family?

It's when I have these harrowing thoughts of depression and anxiety that I am so grateful for the beaming ray of light that is the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I'm tempted to give into the idea that no one could possibly understand my current plight-it's too unique, too complicated, too irreversible. But the truth is that Christ has felt all of our pains and he alone can help us overcome. 

I realize that sounds too simple, and simplified. I've heard it  my entire life and always knew it, but never had it really apply to me. I am telling you, after everything I have been through, everything I have felt, everything I have feared, and being at the lowest point in my life, it's where I have found out what I have always believed. It's a dark place to be, but I found my beliefs on a level I have never known. It's brought me to the place I am today, and as you have read in my early posts, I never, ever thought I would make it to today.

I was reading a book called the "Standard of Truth" this week about early Mormon Church history. I was reminded about just how difficult those early days were for so many of our pioneers. One quote that stuck out to me was one that I quoted on an earlier post, it was an answer to the Prophet Joseph Smith's prayer where he questioned why he and so many others were being put through so many trials-

"If thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way, and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son Of Man that descended below them all. Art thou greater than He?

Knowing that I have a Savior who has descended below everything gets me through these dark days. I pray every night that the collateral damage invoked by this earthly judge will be overpowered by my spiritual advocate. I have the faith that it will. 

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Centennial Community Transition Center 

18 YEARS

Today is our 18 year anniversary. I loved everything about that day, and I wouldn't change anything since. Good and bad, he is meant for me. That being said, I have been dreading this day for the last few weeks. Monday was rough, I skipped my workout and stayed in bed as long as I could before my kids started to think something was really wrong...just putting off dealing with another day of waiting. 

Tuesday, I skipped my workout again for the same reason. I knew I was going to have my friends and coaches texting me because unless I'm out of town, I don't know the last time I skipped two days in a row. I texted them and told them I would be there today so I had to show up. 

I was meeting my friend Debbie at Nordstrom for lunch so I told Brandon to call me around 1:30. Deb and I had lunch and had started shopping when Brandon called. I didn't think anything about it and picked up. Deb was looking at some leggings and as soon as I heard his voice I could feel something was different. Within the first few sentences I heard, "I've been accepted for community corrections!" 

I must've said or had a look on my face that made Debbie nervous because she asked what he said. I'll never forget putting my phone on speaker and repeated it as we were standing there in the middle of the Lingerie/sleepwear department hugging and quietly screaming! It was unreal, I couldn't wrap my mind around it and I was so surprised to hear it but especially from him! I thought I would know before he would. 

Deb and I were ecstactic,  I was so happy she was there with me when I found out, she grew up with both Brandon and I so it was all the more special since she loves him almost as much as I do. :) He didn't know any other details than that but it was enough. With our anniversary being the next day, it was perfectly welcomed timing.

This morning, I got up with a smile on my face and hurried to the gym where I told all my friends he had been accepted. These people have been the best therapy I could have, keeping me accountable and making me push myself everyday throughout this 3 year ordeal. I will never be able to thank them enough for supporting me, making me laugh and almost cry during some of those awful workouts that are so good for me physically, but mentally and emotionally for sure. They have saved me these last 8 1/2 months.

I have always known it's just a matter of time that this entire nightmare would come to an end. Everyday I wondered if today would be the day as far as Brandon no longer being in Rifle. Everyday has come and gone without any news, so when Brandon called me to say happy anniversary, then asked if I wanted the good or the bad news first, I froze. I was about to empty the trash can and I just stopped, I told him I can't take any bad news, please don't tell me. He laughed and said I had to choose, so I told him to tell me the bad news. He said he won't be able to spend the day with me for our anniversary but  that he is being moved on Tuesday, next week! I was stunned, this was truly the absolute the best anniversary present I have ever received, I am still in disbelief. He will be here next week around us, aside from sleeping here, our life will be somewhat back to normal and I could not be happier. 

I never thought I would be able to post on here that it has finally happened, he really is coming home. I have been so scared to hope, I have prepped myself so much for bad news, I couldn't even really comprehend good news! It's actually really hard for me to put into words, I have been so afraid to get my hopes up for fear of feeling that familiar heartbreaking, bullet to my heart. I have been guarding it, I sort of feel numb, and maybe I won't break down with tears of joy and gratitude until he is actually standing in front of me in plain clothes, his clothes. I can't imagine it but I know by this time next week, he will be 20 minutes from me. It's just like high school again, follow specific rules.... I can do that, I've done it before, 20 years ago! 

I don't know how long he will have to stay there, we've heard 90 days but we really don't know. I am just going to focus on the fact that he is here. He can't sleepover but other than that, our bigger than life husband and Dad will be back in our lives.

I am so grateful for so many things for so many reasons.  I'm sure this post is all over the place because that is exactly how I feel. I haven't touched his clothes since he left, and now it doesn't seem so depressing to pack him a suitcase full of clothes and a real, full sized toothbrush! The little luxuries in life are truly appreciated.

My kids are grinning from ear to ear. They are so excited for Maggie to come next weekend with Bevin,  Sara and their kids. We are so excited we don't have to drive to Rifle anymore to see Brandon, I will miss seeing the people there that I have come to know. The kids know we will be having lots of company as people have already been asking when they can come and see him...the holiday season is going to be full of so much love and true, true joy!

Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC

A Buggy Full Of Felons

After months of battling wildfires all over Colorado, our fire season came to an end this past week. We fought seven different fires-one which ended up being the 3rd largest in Colorado state history (416 fire in Durango). These past four months were some of the most physically demanding of my entire life. On a typical fire day, we were required to be awake by 4:50 am.  Our work started at 6:00am and we typically would eat dinner at 8:30 pm. We carried a 45 lb. backpack at all times along with my chainsaw and tools, it weighed an additional 30lbs. 

We hiked and worked, and hiked and worked, and then hiked and worked some more. Temperatures ranged from 90 degrees to 12 degrees throughout the season. We spent a total of 66 days and nights camped out. I lost a total of 48 lbs of weight-almost 20% of my body weight. I am sure that if I added all of the miles up, we hiked over 300 miles over the course of the season. 

We lost fellow inmate firefighters to failed drug test, theft, fighting, and even the "Texas Heimlich"-and no matter how hard any of it was, I loved it. It makes me so proud to be called a firefighter.


I have learned...

-How to fight a wildland fire.

-The camaraderie and brotherhood that exists amongst all firefighters.

-I can still do hard things-both physically and mentally.

-I love the mountains and outdoors even more than I did before.

-To depend on God more than ever.

-Sleeping under the stars far away from from any city is truly the greatest show on earth.

-Being away from the people you love makes you love them so much more.

-It takes about five days for a blister to become a callous. 

-Even if you are too big for your tent and sleeping bag, pure physical exhaustion will ensure that you still get a good night's sleep.

-Working with 20 other dudes who haven't showered in two weeks smells like dead animals-or worse.

-You can feel the heat of a wildfire from more than a mile away.

-While performing the Heimlich on another person, it can be way messier than I was led to believe in my CPR class. 

-With all due respect to my fellow inmates, I've learned that the original "birds and the bees" talk that my parents, Gary and Louise gave me was merely a Dr. Seuss rhyme compared to the advanced degree I have now received after countless road trip hours in the back of a fire buggy surrounded by self described Noble Laureates on the matter. I'll have Sallie give a starred review of my educational application capabilities as soon as I'm out. :) I'm sure you will all be on the edge of you seats for that.

-I've always loved music. Even more so now. Each night before going to my tent, I would turn on the radio in back of our buggy and listen to whatever station I could. We don't have access to music in prison-it may be one of the worst parts of prison.

-Being a firefighter has helped my kids be proud of their Dad despite being inmate #179321.

-After being outdoors for 16 days, you can taste the air as you come back inside of a building-and it's awful.

-There are a lot of good people in this world that have just made bad decisions.

-The difference between being in prison and not is not the huge gap that I once thought-in many cases it is a very, very thin line, blurry line. As an example, there are multiple guys on our SWIFT team who have no prior criminal histories who were driving under the influence of alcohol/drugs and got into an accident where someone was seriously injured or killed. One bad decision on one given night can have horrific outcomes.

-Really really good people will do really, really bad things when they need drugs-especially heroin or meth.

-I have more respect for ALL first responders-they are all amazing people who dedicate their lives to saving ours. 

I learned how important it is to share a star in the night sky with Sal-I'd look at it every night and know that she could see it too, at the same time every night.  There was tremendous peace in sharing that moment together.

I learned how important, vitally important the scriptures are. At the end of a long day on a fire, the familiarity of spiritual words kept me going.

As we were driving home from our last fire, we all had mixed feelings. We were so tired-ready for a little bit of a break. But we were also sad. Mainly because of the fact that we would no longer have the luxuries of enjoying the freedom that a fire brings to incarcerated men. For 15 or 16 days on a fire, we truly felt like normal members of society. I looked around at my unlikely friends-seven other felons that I'd now consider my friends. 

As we rolled down the road with our windows down, we laughed, mostly at each other's expense and joked about some of the things we'd experienced. One of the guys was telling us a story about some of the dumber exploits he'd attempted while trying to get meth-which included a botched attempt at trying to rob a Subway with a water gun. As he told his story, it occurred to me that one of the greatest things about this group of guys was the lack of judgment (double Entendre for sure) that you would ever feel from them. You could tell them almost anything and their perception of you would not change. In fact, a respect for the honesty was evident. There is no pretense, no competitive jockeying-no hiding from our weaknesses. We're all felons, we all know it and so all that is left is knowing each other for who we really are. For lack of a better term-it's refreshing.

In the outside world, fortunately we are not all felons-BUT we all are sinners. None of us, not one, is perfect yet, for some reason we all pretend we are and feel pressure to be and portray a form of perfection. I know I have always felt it. I look back in my life and see times where I felt better about my imperfections when others imperfections were unearthed or displayed for everyone to see. I am ashamed to admit that yet, those I respect and admire in my life and throughout history, are those who are not perfect. They have endured their mistakes, imperfections, trials and not only survived them, but became better because of it. 

Sometimes the places we should feel safe and the most comfortable with our struggles and imperfections are the very places where we are the most judged.  I truly feel sorry for those people that try so hard to keep up the appearance that their life and family is perfect. It's almost a tell tale sign that they are truly struggling. It's so sad to me, everyone has tough times, in their relationships, work, kids..life. I hope that I'll never forget the biggest lesson that I've learned from a buggy full of felons-we all make mistakes, we all sin, we all fall well short of perfection. Simply said, we are all sinners. Let's see people as imperfect-including ourselves and love them for it. 

                                     * I have no idea who to credit for this photo
Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire

The Texas Heimlich and the Silver Creek Fire

I've spent the past 16 days fighting on the Silver Creek Fire near Kremmling, CO. It is a beautiful part of Colorado that was made even more spectacular by the aesthetics of autumn. The fire was located above 9000 feet so we were blessed with relatively cool days with very cold nights-most of the nights got down into the teens. The cooler nights had me missing my nice camping gear-as you can imagine, the Colorado Department of Corrections doesn't go to great lengths to accommodate us on gear. My sleeping bag comes up to my chest, barely. So I am left with all of my shoulders and head exposed. It's kind of like sleeping in my fly fishing waders. I loved every minute of it though-there is nothing like sleeping out under the starry canvas every night-there were even nights where I forgot that I was prisoner 179321.

This fire has been raging for a month and we spent most of our time there working alongside engine crews on structure protection. It entailed a lot of chainsaw work so those of us that are sawyers were on chainsaws for 16 hours a day-very challenging but rewarding work. Our record remains flawless-no structures have been lost under protection the entire season-something that we are all very proud of.

However, in true inmate fire team fashion, it has been our tradition to lure firefighters during the course of a fire for a variety of reasons. Earlier this season we had guys stealing and testing positive for marijuana, we had Inmate UFC that resulted in 2 guys being taken back to the facility and as it turns out, we lost an inmate on this fire as well-in the most unlikely of ways...

 Previously, I have written about how well fed we are on this fires. The Forest Service spares no expense in making sure that all the firefighters are well fed. Steaks, Ribs, Prime Rib, BBQ, Roasted Chicken, Fried Chicken, Steak and Eggs-you name it-we've had it. For us as inmates, we savor and appreciate the food so much more than the average firefighter because we are used to prison food. 

On a major but frightfully necessary side note, we recently found out that the inmates who run the dairy that provides the milk, yogurt, etc., that we eat on a daily basis, have been taking cheeseburgers out of the lunchroom and feeding them to the cows...and the cows love them! 

I don't even know how to properly process the fact that our own dairy cows are fed hamburgers. In a world where most people are concerned about too much sugar, fat, gluten, GMO's, I'm left trying to comprehend the side effects of bovine cannibalism on dairy products.

I'm just imagining a marketing tag on a milk carton that says 
*This milk comes from non-cannibalistic cows*
Needless to say, the five star catering we get on a fire is a perk of unmeasurable quality and value.

Our fire work days are long-typically 16 hours so we are hungry to say the least. We typically sit down for dinner at 8:30 pm. On this particular night, we were all looking forward to Steak Night-and we were having ribeye, my personal favorite.

Another logistical problem that we run into on fires is that we are all encouraged, rather forced, to eat as fast as we can. The tents that we eat in are limited in space, so we typically are given 10 minutes to eat-so we have to eat fast. Imagine trying to eat a 16 oz ribeye, potato, salad bar, bread and a dessert in under 10 minutes..it's a sight to behold.

There are 20 of us on the crew and the way that it typically works out is that we are dispersed between three different tables. We all sat down to begin the 10 minutes food sprint and just as I was sitting down, I realized I had forgotten my salad back at the salad bar. I jumped up to go grab it-I was of course stressed out because by the time I got back to my seat, I have 8.5 minutes left to eat my food! I went and grabbed my salad in the other tent and made my way back to the tent where all the other inmates were eating. As I walked through the door, I felt immediately that something was wrong-very wrong. 

A couple of inmates were holding onto another inmate while they were patting on his back and trying to force potato wedges and juice into his mouth. The inmate they were doing this to is our oldest firefighter-in his 50's. He's also our smallest inmate firefighter-maybe 5'5, 130lbs. He is also one of our hardest working inmates. 

I immediately ran over to see what was going on and when I go there it was clear that Moose was choking! He was able to slightly breathe but it was getting worse. I was extremely confused by the whole situation so I quickly asked what was happening. They proceeded to tell me that Moose had been eating his ribeye too fast and a piece was caught in his esophagus. He had panicked because the food was caught and he could barely breathe. One of the other inmates suggested they try the "Texas Heimlich" which consists of putting more food and drink down the victim's system, having them swallow hard and attempting to knock the obstruction loose. I cannot make this stuff up.

The guys told me that they had performed two rounds of the "Texas Heimlich" on poor Moose using potato wedges and scalding hot tea and it hadn't helped-it had actually made things worse to where now he couldn't breathe, imagine that! On a side note, I can neither confirm nor deny the actual existence of a procedure known as the Texas Heimlich, but in my career, I have spent a lot of time in Texas and I have never, ever heard of something so ridiculous nor met people dumb enough to try to execute this sequence of disturbing steps to try and HELP A CHOKING VICTIM, until now. Out of respect for my friends and employees in Texas, I will rename this maneuver the "Prison Heimlich".  

I really couldn't believe what I was hearing...so Moose was partially choking and you guys proceeded to force potato wedges and hot tea down his throat to try and dislodge the steak and now he's choking on the potato wedges and the hot tea is burning his throat? Lord, have mercy.

I immediately picked up Moose and carried him out of the tent. My adrenaline was charging through my veins so when I picked him up, it felt like picking up a small child. By now, he was really struggling for air and rightfully so. He was backed up like a clogged toilet with potato wedges and tea on top of the original, problematic, piece of steak.

I told him I was going to give him the Heimlich, the real one, I took a deep breath, placed my fists where I had been trained in CPR classes and pushed in and up as hard as I could. What followed was a series of sounds and smells that can only be recognized by parents who've had infants-throw up. and. poop.

My version of the Heimlich immediately pushed out all of the potato wedges and tea through his mouth-and all over his chest and my arms. What I didn't anticipate was the force of my maneuver to knock everything loose below his stomach-so out the poop came, I didn't really care-Moose was now at least able to breathe, kind of. 

There were still two problems, the first being that the steak was still caught in his esophagus-but he was able to talk so I knew there was nothing more I could do. The second being that now he was having trouble breathing because I had cracked or at least bruised his ribs when performing my version of the Heimlich. By then, an EMT had made his way over to help out. They determined that Moose would have to be taken to the hospital to have the piece of steak removed surgically, which he did and has since fully recovered. 

As they hauled Moose out of there in an ambulance, I couldn't help but notice that he looked like he'd gone all nine rounds of a boxing match-with inmates, scalding hot tea and potato wedges as his opponent.

By now, I only had two minutes left to eat my dinner but with all the sounds and smells that were now all over my arms and hands, I didn't have much of an appetite left. I did hurry and clean up and try to get a couple more bites of my precious ribeye. As I took that first bite I started to chew and noticed that I had a fatty piece-typical for a ribeye. But as I chewed I had a haunting feeling of what my fellow inmates might try and do to me if somehow that piece of meat didn't make it all the way down to my stomach. I weighted the risks out in my mind and just as I was about to spit it out, I couldn't help but think how terrible the food back at the prison was. There was no way I was wasting a good ribeye! I finished chewing, swallowed reluctantly and my heart smiled as that piece of meat made it all the way through the esophageal gauntlet and landed in my stomach. After all, a good piece of meat is always worth the price....no matter how high.

*This fire was officially the last fire we will be on this season-our season is over as of October 1st. So I will be spending a lot more time writing on the blog. My publisher/agent/lover Sallie, has told me that I have to send at least two posts a week, so I'll try and keep them coming.

We are still waiting to hear from the community corrections board regarding my case and when it will be up for review. Fingers crossed it's any day now and by the end of the month or so, I will be out of here and around my family again, where I should be.
Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire,