16. The Paper Chase

So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate. Matthew 19:6

Todd and I were married in the Bartow courthouse on January 29, 2007. Instead of rushing off in a shower of rice to a honeymoon suite, we spent our first day as husband and wife running from one public office to the next, gathering documents, paying fines, and filing yet another Interstate Transfer so that he could come to his new home. But the State of Florida had other plans for Todd.
We were married early on a Monday morning. My employer had only allowed me only two of the weekdays off and I had to report back to work the following Wednesday morning. My returning flight was scheduled to leave the Tampa airport around 6:00 on Tuesday evening. We had just 24 hours to accomplish all that was necessary to bring Todd home.

We left the State Attorney's office in Bartow and headed for the Lakeland Probation Department to show Todd's probation officer, Ms. Rameriez, our marriage license. We were previously told that the only reason Todd's Interstate Transfer was not approved was due to the fact he had no family in my state. This marriage certificate should have alleviated that issue.

At the probation office, Ms. Rameriez came out to greet us in the waiting room. Todd introduced me as his wife and gave her the document. After reviewing the license she curtly said, "I hope this isn't one of those jailhouse marriages". We assured her it was not and that we were very much in love. She directed Todd back behind closed doors and I was instructed to wait in the lobby. About 30 minutes later Todd appeared. He said they were working on the transfer but it may take a few days. I was surprised because Todd had met a girl from Delaware in the Bartow probation office who told him it only took 48 hours to have her probation transferred from Delaware to Florida. We'd been working on this for 19 days already. Most of the necessary paperwork had already been completed. Plus a prosecutor from the State Attorney's office had written a letter to them stating that Todd's life was in danger if he stayed in Lakeland. We also forwarded the letter from the New York producer stating what he witnessed when Todd was attacked by Serrano and I had presented them an outline of job possibilities as well as rehabilitation programs for Todd. Because of his alcohol addiction, he needed to be placed into rehab immediately.

Nonetheless, Todd would not be able to fly home with me the following day, therefore, we had to make alternate plans. Todd would need a car. And we had just the one day to find and buy one.

We went to several car lots to look. A couple caught our eye. We left our names and my cell number with the salesmen and went to dinner that evening at Ruby Tuesdays. Over dinner Todd and I discussed what car we should buy. I told him that I felt good vibes from one of the salesman and we should buy his car. Todd agreed, he had felt those same vibes. This salesman's name was Aundrae McGee. Also known as Aundrae the Giant of Bartow Ford. Todd and I made an agreement that no matter what the final offers were, we'd buy Aundrae's car because we just plain liked him. After dinner we went and told Aundrae the good news and picked up our new car, a Silver Blue 2006 Ford Taurus. Earlier in the day we paid all of Todd's fines and had his license reinstated. I threw him the keys and he drove that car all night long showing me around Lakeland.

The next day we shot up to Todd's old lawyer's office and picked up his case file. I can understand why it was so hard convincing them to send it to me. This case file must have been 2 feet thick. I'm sure the girl in the lawyer's office didn't appreciate having to spend all day making those copies. From there we drove to Bay Care Drug Treatment facility. Todd needed copy of their file too. Before I arrived in Lakeland, Todd had already stopped in the Lakeland Police Department and picked up copies of his arrest reports. Now the stuff that was in the box that the Lighthouse Ministries threw away was finally replaced although I wouldn't know exactly what all those papers meant or why they were so important to Todd for several months.

Todd and I spent the rest of that last day together inside room number 13. I was really apprehensive about leaving him but Todd assured me it would only be for a couple days. He'd get his travel permit from Ms. Rameriez on Thursday and drive home.

That last ride together to the Tampa airport was the hardest ride of my life. With me crying and Todd assuring me all the way. We sat in the airport lobby together for just a short while. We talked and took pictures of each other. The time for me to board my plane came all too soon. We said our last goodbye and I walked the short way down to catch the shuttle that would take me to my boarding gate. I turned to look at Todd one last time. I still remember the expression on his face to this day. His eyes had that same haunting sad look to them as they had in that old mug shot that I put on his website. I should have never boarded that plane. I should have stayed. Leaving Todd that night was my third and final mistake. God forgive me.

I made it safely home and Todd and I once again spoke on the phone all night. The next day, Wednesday, I reported in to work as promised. Excitedly, I told everyone of my elopement. My co-workers were all in shock. I had been single for about 15 years so no one thought I'd ever get married again. I told everyone about Todd and that he had to stay in Florida to tie up a few loose ends but would be joining me by the end of the week.

Todd would later tell me that when he put me on that plane that night he was distraught. "I had a sick feeling about you leaving me there in Florida". The following morning he called Ms. Rameriez to ask about the transfer. "Mr. Jones", she said, "I don't care if you got married. It doesn't matter. It could take several months for get that transfer". Todd knew that wasn't true. I did not realize it at the time but all those papers I had run around Lakeland with Todd to retrieve, contained a complaint Todd once filed to former Governor Jeb Bush against Michael Huntley, of the Bartow Probation Department, as well as the chief of police and an IAD officer concerning a false violation of probation against Todd back in 2004. That false VOP is what put Todd in jail in the first place, eventually leading to his homelessness and his being kicked out of Bay Care drug treatment center. This is also what was keeping Ms. Rameriez from approving the transfer.

Realizing that he would never be able to leave Polk County, Todd fell into despair again, heading for the nearest liquor store. Returning to room 13 alone, after staying with me in there for 4 days, must have been so painful for Todd. He found one of my earrings on the floor. That was all he had left of me. Getting loaded was the only way he knew to deal with the pains of reality. That was why I couldn't reach him on the phone that night.

That Thursday morning, while I was at work, my cell phone rang again. It was a Florida number I didn't recognize. I ran outside around the building to take the call. It was Don Webb, who managed the Lake View Inn. He told me that Todd had cleaned out room number 13 and checked out that morning. He said he owed Todd a $50 refund and that when he called Todd to tell him, Todd told him he had just been arrested and to please call his wife and let her know. That was the one moment in my life my world ceased to turn. The heartbreak was incredible. I couldn't function. I couldn't breathe. It was just like getting news of the death of a loved one. And what's worse, I couldn't let anyone know. I couldn't share my pain with anyone. For if someone found out and alerted my employer I would surely lose my job.

A few hours later my phone rang again. This time it was Todd. "Why didn't you just run?" I asked him. "You could have just driven out of Florida. They'd never find you here and probably wouldn't come looking for a probation violator". He answered me saying, "I couldn't do that baby. You know that. Now listen, we're married now. You're not going to cheat on me are you?". Through my tears and heartache Todd had managed to make me laugh. He said he would have a "first appearance" hearing in front of a judge the following week and we'd work everything out but that he wouldn't be able to call me again. The warning recording came on that we just had 60 seconds left of our 15 minute phone call. Remembering the "I Love You" letters, we both started repeating in unison, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you" until the phone became disconnected.

My life as I had always known it to be, was over. Things would never be the same again. Being so far away, it would take a while to understand what went wrong. Like all those loved ones of missing persons, it's the "not knowing what happened" that's the hardest part to deal with.
Later that night, I curled up on my favorite chair. Switched on the light and did the only thing I knew to do. I picked up my notebook and pen and the letters to an inmate in a Florida jail resumed..

15. Escape from Florida Attempt #2 - Mail Order Bride

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase. " Martin Luther King, Jr.

When a former inmate in Florida petitioned to have his probation transferred to my state, the petition was denied because he had no family here. This inmate had been a witness in the Nelson Serrano mass murder trial and was in grave danger out on the streets due to his testimony. There was only one way we could arrange for Leslie Todd Jones to have family in my state. We would have to get married. Was I willing to go to that extreme to help a man I had never met?
Todd was released from jail but the judge had ordered he serve four years probation. In order to come to my home in another state and get the help I felt he needed, he would have to file an Interstate Transfer, a clause in the correctional programs that allows probationers to transfer their supervision from one state to another. Evidently there was a clause within the clause. Todd would have to have family in the state to which he transferred. It was an urgent situation because Todd, the prosecutor, as well as the Special Agent with the FDLE, were rumored within the jail system to have contracts placed on them by Serrano.

Todd and I had become quite close after writing letters to each other over the previous three months. To say that I knew him well was an understatement. We knew each other in ways most couples could only dream. Recently, I had faced the reality that I was in love with him and that our relationship was destined to be. So when Todd called me one evening to let me know the Florida Department of Corrections Probation Department had denied his petition for the transfer, there wasn't much discussion as to what we had to do. I put in for time off from work and began saving for an airline ticket. At the same time I was supporting Todd in Florida because he had been unable to find work. With time scarce and money in short supply, I went down to my bank and took out a third loan. I had excellent credit at that time and was counting on the fact that Todd would be home and working and could help me pay everything back.

The next obstacle I'd have to overcome was Florida's three day waiting period for marriage licenses. My employer only gave me the weekend plus two days off. I telephoned the FDLE agent who was Todd's handler and he said he knew a few judges and would see what he could do about getting the waiting period waived. I packed my birth certificate along with a few clothes for myself and for Todd.

The last weekend of January, 2007, my flight landed in Tampa around 11:30 at night. Because I had never been to Florida, I had no idea where I was or how I would manage to find Lakeland. It was cold, pitch dark and raining heavy. Not what I expected from all the sunny Florida postcards I had seen. I made my way to the Hertz rental counter and questioned the clerk about how to get to Lakeland. He drew me a map and handed me a set of keys. I loaded my luggage in the trunk and was on my way. Todd and I spoke on our cell phones all the way down I-4 and he directed me to exit Memorial Blvd and head south. It was hard to see my way in the pounding rain until I came upon an accident scene with the flashing blue lights from police cars. Still on the cell phone with Todd, I told him I was stuck behind an accident. He asked me to flash my lights bright and dim and when I did, he screamed with elation, "I'm on the other side of that accident!" Good ole Lakeland Police Department had shone the light in the dark and lit my path to Todd. I navigated around the scene and my headlights shone on a man standing in the rain in the middle of the road, waving his arms. I stopped, unlocked the door to the passenger side and he jumped in. "Wow, you're beautiful" was the very first thing he said to me. I answered, "I just hope your name is Todd Jones", thinking of the possibility that I may have picked up the wrong guy in the middle of the night. I pulled the car over and we shared our first embrace.

We drove to a Winn-Dixie grocery store there on Memorial and grabbed a cart. I know the clerks must remember us because we ran through the store like two children, grabbing all kinds of candy and junk food. Things Todd hadn't been able to get in jail. Mini Snickers and Milky Ways, squirt cheese, snack crackers, bagels, cream cheese, yogurts, flavored water and sodas. Stopping ever so often for a kiss in the aisles, laughing and giggling.

We took the groceries back to room number 13 at the Lake View Inn. It wasn't like any hotel room I had ever seen. No carpeting, a ratty old sofa and just a full size bed without a headboard. On the bed was one little flat pillow and a well worn blanket. Todd had spent the day scouring the place, making it as comfortable as possible for me. For security, he had meticulously taped each vertical blind shut with scotch tape. We spent the entire weekend in that tiny room and didn't set foot outside the door until the following Monday morning and by that time, we knew we were deeply in love. We headed off to meet the Special Agent with the FDLE at the Bartow courthouse.

The courthouse is a huge building and looks a little out of place in such a small town as Bartow, Florida. I remember the reporter from New York had said the same thing. Constantly bustling with activity, I'm sure half the town's population works there. We made it though their sophisticated security system and found our way to the clerk's office. As it turned out, we wouldn't need to wait for a license anyway. Because I lived out of town and Todd basically didn't have a home address, we were able to get married right then and there. We were directed in to a small room on the side and we were met by a young girl who looked young enough to be my daughter. Her name was Yessenia Perez and if any of you know her, tell her I said thank you because she administered the most beautiful wedding ceremony I've ever heard. So beautiful in fact, that I asked her for a copy of our vows to keep forever.

After the ceremony, we headed upstairs to the Polk County State's Attorney's office where we ran into the agent with the FDLE and his sidekick, a Bartow police officer. There was a lot of hand shaking and back slapping. Todd introduced me to them and then the agent handed Todd his card, writing his cell number on the back and saying, "If you ever need me, call this number". He also gave us the name of David Jolly, an old friend of his who is a Federal Marshall in the area we would be living. Then he took Todd outside in the hallway to speak with him in private, away from me. To this day I do not know what was said but shortly afterwards, we were directed down the hall into a small office. Behind the desk was the investigator for the SAO, Chuck Zeller. Mr. Zeller is a wonderful man and he asked me for my receipts for Todd's hotel room and my plane flight and rental car. There is funding within the Violent Crime and Drug Council for victims and witnesses. He said he would get reimbursement for my expenses related to Todd. To this day, I'm still waiting for that check.

Todd handed Mr. Zeller an envelope I was unaware he had. This envelope contained information on three cases, Edward Romeo, who was later convicted of murder; the guy that shot the girl with the AK-47, who is still awaiting sentencing; and a third case, Corris Lonell Stephens. That third case only involved assault and burglary, not homicide. But it's that third case that would come back to haunt us in a terrible way. Looking back, I'd have to say handing Chuck Zellar that envelope was our second and most brutal mistake. One that would affect Todd in such a way that he would eventually cut ties with the Polk County State Attorney's office, postponing the arrest of two cold blooded killers for years.

14. I Love You I Love You I Love You I Love You I Love You I Love You I Love You I Love You I Love You

"There's no other explanation. This is the Holy Spirit. There's obviously a Higher Power at work here".

Those were the words of my personal priest, Father Mike, when I told him the story I am about to share with you. I have chills as I write this. Of all the letters and boxes and notes and envelopes that occupy my office, there are two special ones. Kept in plastic for preservation. These two letters, one from Todd to me and the other from me to Todd, are my physical evidence that God does exist. And it was God who was in control of all the events that had been happening and all the events that were about to occur.
I hadn't caught on to it at first. Maybe you have by now. There were unexplainable things happening between Todd and myself. The fact that I was even at home the first day I saw Todd on TV. The very fact that I happened to turn on the TV to the exact channel at the exact moment a clip of Todd's testimony was showing or that I was even able to find him immediately through a list of 1000s of inmates should have been enough to convince anyone that there was something controlling all these events. Like the moon that controls the tides, something or someone was pulling all the strings. The scriptures that Todd and I unknowingly quoted to each other as our letters crossed in the mail. My first letter from Todd, addressed wrong and getting mailed to a large city in another state and winding up in my mailbox in less than 48 hours. The fact that I received it on October 16, the anniversary of Todd's father's death. I mailed Todd a dictionary once and that afternoon I received a letter from him asking for one. Too many coincidences to name. Todd and I were quickly becoming aware of all these phenomenons. After January 9, 2007, we would never have any doubts again.

I had been my mother's caretaker for many years as she suffered from a host of ailments. One of which was a form of arthritis nestled in her spine. Four times a year we would drive to a special clinic about two hours from my home where they would administer specialized pain treatments. It was always a long day for me. We'd drive down first thing in the morning and the procedure would take all day. Then we'd drive back in the evening. I usually took a pillow and napped in the car or sometimes I took a book to read. Anything to pass the time. On this particular trip, I dropped my mother off at the clinic and then drove a few blocks away to a local drug store. I went in and picked out a card for Todd. I sat in the car looking at the card and pondering to myself. I had never actually told Todd I loved him. I had been far to afraid to utter those words to myself, much less to Todd. The card was one of those tri-folded "Between You And Me" cards. I opened it up to the blank center and began to write, "I love you". I kept writing "I love you I love you I love you I love you" over and over until I had filled the entire center of the card. I addressed the envelope, sealed it, and popped it into one of those blue post office mailboxes. The sign on the mailbox said the next pick-up would be at 3:00 p.m. that day. "Good", I thought to myself, "I made it". The date was January 9, 2007. He would never receive that card.

Three days later, January 12, Todd had his long awaited court date. The emergency box of clothing and money addressed to Fr. Mitchell was still in the trunk of my car, ready to ship it at a moments notice. For a winter day, it was exceptionally warm with a bright sun shinning and not a cloud in the sky. I awoke that morning all excited and was overwhelmed with a sense of peace. I showered and dressed for work as usual, checked my watch several times. I had promised Todd I'd say a prayer for him the very moment we estimated he would be in the courtroom. Florida was an hour ahead of my time so that moment happened while I was at work. I had asked Todd's lawyer to call me with the results and waited patiently by the phone. That call never came. About mid morning I went out on the back dock of the store where I worked to check on some orders. My cell phone rang, it was Todd!

"I'm out, I'm out!", he shouted. "I can't believe they let me go!". He was calling from a Circle K convenience store located behind the Bartow courthouse. Apparently, Peter Sternlicht from the State's Attorney's Office had told the judge that he believed Todd deserved a second chance. The judge agreed. It is unusual for a prosecutor to do that. A prosecutor's job is to put people in jail, not let them out. Todd was released on four years probation. "No big deal", I thought. "We can file that Interstate Transfer and Todd can come here so I can help him".

That afternoon I found a letter waiting for me in the mailbox. This was one of the last letters Todd had mailed to me from jail. I opened it up and was shocked at what I read. It was a single paged letter. Contained only three words. Written in jailhouse pencil were the words "I love you I love you I love you I love you". Written over and over about a hundred times. I looked at the top of the page. Todd had dated it as he had always done. January 9, 2007. A few days later the card I had mailed to Todd while I had been out of town was returned to me. Instead of "return to sender contains contraband", it was stamped "return to sender inmate not in jail". I looked at the postmark to make sure I had been right. It was postmarked January 9, 2007. How? How in the world can two people, who have never met, write the same thing, in the same way, at the same time, on the same day 1000 miles apart from each other? How? If that's not evidence that God exists and that he hears and answers our prayers, I don't know what is. It was that moment I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Todd and I were meant to be. No question.

The first thing I had to do was to leave work and go to the nearest Western Union and send Todd money. They had released him in paper clothes, borrowed shoes, and he only had $10.00 left from his canteen account. First he would need shelter, and then clothing and food. I sent him $500.00. He found a "rent by the week" motel room in Bartow next to a place called John's Restaurant. I shipped him the package with the cell phone. And we talked, every day, every night, sometimes all night.

The following Monday he reported to his probation office as he had been instructed and applied for the Interstate Transfer. Todd's probation officer, Mr. Samples, was a kind man and had been the recipient of a letter, written on Todd's behalf by State Attorney John Aguero. He realized the severity of Todd's situation in Polk County. He was familiar with the Serrano case and knew that Todd had to get out of town as soon as possible in order to possibly spare his life. Mr. Samples said he would file all the necessary documents and didn't feel there would be a problem with the transfer. All we had to do was wait.

In the meantime, Todd looked for a job that would be within walking distance of the motel. Jobs that were already hard to come by in Bartow were pretty much non-existent to a convicted felon on probation. I sent him money for a bicycle and he tried riding it back and forth into Lakeland to look for work. Nothing. He was in a drug invested area and easily recognized on the street. Once a few street thugs spotted him and began throwing bricks at him shouting, "Snitch! Snitch". It became clear that Todd was not safe in Bartow so I sent him bus fare and he and his bicycle moved to Lakeland where he found a room at the Lake View Inn on Memorial Boulevard. Room number 13, the same number as his cell had been.


Looking back, this is where we made our mistake. Todd would have been better off staying in Bartow and facing those street thugs than to face what was waiting for him in Lakeland. A new address meant a new probation officer. This new officer, Ms. Rameriez, would not be as accommodating as Mr. Samples had been. She possessed a file. In that file were documents. The same documents that Todd once owned that had been tossed by Lighthouse Ministries. The documents I was having trouble finding or replacing. These documents would prevent that Interstate Transfer. They held secrets. Secrets the Florida Department of Corrections Probation Department would go to great lengths to keep hidden.

13. Escape from Florida Attempt #1

I have this plaque hanging on my front door. It is a scripture and reads:

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; for thereby some have entertained angels unaware." Heb 13:2

God would put me to the test with those words when an inmate I had never met in a Florida jail decided to come to my home after his release.

The court date being postponed until January was actually a blessing in disguise. We hadn't figured out how to get Todd out of Florida in case the judge ruled in our favor, probation. In the event they did release him, I was willing to save up for a plane ticket for Todd to fly home to Long Island, but he had written that he'd rather come here to see me. A normal woman would be taken aback by such a request but I had some experience with homeless drug addicts while doing mission work with my church. Once I even rescued a man in the middle of the night from a crack house in a neighboring city. He spent a week in my home, sobering up and coming down off the drugs. When he felt ready, I put a $100 in his pocket and sent him on his way. To date, I've never heard from this man again and don't know if he made it or not. I doubt it. Drugs and alcohol are hard addictions to overcome. One can not simply turn the addiction off. It takes weeks or months of counseling and medical attention and almost always requires hospitalization. If Todd were going to come here, to my home, I'd have to make preparations.
Being Catholic, the first place I turned was to the Church. I googled catholic churches in Polk county Florida and came across St. Thomas, in Bartow. I telephoned the priest there, told him what I was up to and he'd said he'd be glad to help. He said he was a regular chaplain at the jail I was speaking of, and would look in on Todd during his next visit. I made lots of phone calls. I lined up a rehabilitation center, job interviews and I even lined up a sponsor for Todd. Someone who was in recovery himself and could help Todd in ways that were foreign to me. I penned a letter and sent it to Todd's attorney hoping the attorney would use it to sway the judge's ruling in our favor. Todd was a drug addict and an alcoholic. In order for him to ever beat those addictions, he would need long term therapy, counseling and medical care. Something that wasn't available to him while he was incarcerated. Added to that was the fact he had been a witness in the most infamous mass murder case in the history of Polk County. As a result, there was a valid contract out on his life.
I was ignorant to the correctional system though. I didn't realize that when one is placed on probation, that person cannot leave the county that issues the probation, much less the state. I did more research. I found a clause called "Interstate Compact". If approved, this clause allows probationers to transfer that probation to another state. If Todd were to remain in Florida, his life was in danger and I had to prove this to the judge. I telephoned the state attorney that represented the state in the Serrano case as well as that producer from the New York news station and asked them if they would write a letter on Todd's behalf. They agreed. I forwarded the letters along with the outline of my plan to the attorney and to Todd to have with him at the hearing.
December 31, 2006
REF:Leslie Todd Jones
DOB 03/01/63
SSI# xxx-xx-xxxx
To Whom It May Concern:
My name is xxxxx xxxxxxx and I have agreed to aid in Mr. Jones' recovery from alcohol and drug addiction. I have had a great deal of experience in these matters. I have served as a Volunteer Counselor with xxxxxxx County Youth Court Services in xxxxxxxx, xx and I have worked as a Confidential Informant with the City of xxxxxxxx xx Police Department.
I have outlined a plan of rehabilitation for Mr. Jones upon his release from Polk County Correctional Facility.
Upon his release, he will go immediately to St. Thomas Catholic Church located at 1305 Mann Street in Bartow, Fl. There he will meet with Father Mitchell. He will also find a duffel bag filled with clean clothing, toiletries, cash and a plane ticket to xxxxxxxxxx, xx. Fr. Mitchell will escort Mr. Jones to the airport in Tampa, Fl.
I will personally meet Mr. Jones flight when it arrives in xxxxxxxxxx, and then transport him to xxxxx House, a rehabilitation center located at xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The telephone number for xxxxx House is xxx-xxx-xxxx. They are well known for their efforts in drug and alcohol rehabilitation. At xxxxx House, Mr. Jones will meet with physicians and psychologists specially trained in addiction. The programs run anywhere from 12 to 24 weeks. Mr. Jones' length of stay will be determined by the doctors there.
Upon his release from xxxxx House, Mr. Jones will come to my home. I have prepared a room for him and he will be given free room and board as well as a small salary in exchange for "handyman" work. My address is xxxx xxxxxxxxx Drive, xxxxxxxxxx, xx xxxxx and my telephone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. I might add that I will not tolerate any form of alcohol or drug use. No exceptions.
Mr. Jones will be required to attend at least one meeting a day at a 12 step program known as The Recovery Club, located at xxxx xxxxxxx Drive, xxxxxxxxxx, xx xxxxx. The telephone number for The Recovery Club is xxx-xxx-xxxx. Their meetings are held every day at 8am, 12pm, 6pm, and 8pm. Mr. Jones will be free to go to any or as many meetings he chooses, depending on his work schedule. I only require one a day. Transportation will be provided. I have also arranged for Mr. Jones to have a personal sponsor, Todd xxxxx. Like Mr. Jones, Todd xxxxx has battled a lifetime of addiction to cocaine, crystal meth and alcohol. Mr. xxxxx has been "clean" for about 10 years and attends at least two meetings a day. I have the utmost respect and admiration for him. I also have a lot of faith that he would be the right sponsor for Mr. Jones. You may contact Mr. xxxxx at xxx-xxx-xxxx and his address is 8505 xxxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxx, xxxxxxxxxx, xx, xxxxx.
As for employment, I have arranged for three interviews. One with Lt. John xxxxx with xxxxxx County Sheriff's Department. He is in charge of internal affairs with the sheriff's office but also owns a concrete company that employs about 30 men. Lt. xxxxx has had experience with addiction with own son and is willing to "do what he can" to help Mr. Jones get on his feet. You may contact Mr. xxxxx at xxx-xxx-xxxx.
The second interview will be with xxxxxxx xxxxx, owner of xxxxx Heating and Air. You may contact Mr. xxxxx at xxx-xxx-xxxx.
The third interview will be with x & x Construction. Their phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx or xxx-xxx-xxxx. They are located here in xxxxxxxxxx at xxx xxxxxxx Industrial Road. Mr. Jones has had experience in heavy equipment and this is an earth moving service. It may be the best option for him based on his experience.
If all this fails, Mr. Jones will be transported to Labor Ready to obtain day labor work until he can find permanent employment.
I will also aid Mr. Jones into having his driver license reinstated.
Mr. Jones will also be expected to attend regular church services. I am a devout catholic and believe that you can accomplish nothing without God. Mr. Jones will be able to choose his own church as long as it is a New Testament Christian church. I require that he goes at least one time a week. Again, transportation will be provided.
As you can see, Mr. Jones is a lucky man to have found someone like me willing to help him. I don't do this for everybody but Mr. Jones has shown to me that he is ready to change and willing to tackle all that is necessary to do so. He is aware that his recovery is not a temporary step, but rather a lifetime commitment. It will have to take priority in his life, above all else, permanently.
One of the reasons I am willing to do all this is that it has come to my attention that Mr. Jones has done a great deal in aiding Floridian authorities in convicting mass murderer, Nelson Serrano. Something Mr. Jones did on his own and without coercion. That shows to me that he is worth saving. As a result of this action, his life is in danger. Coming here to xxxxxxxxxx will be the next best thing to the witness protection program.
He has done the state of Florida a tremendous favor and I feel that the State of Florida needs to return that favor.
You may contact me either at my office, xxx-xxx-xxxx or by my personal cell, xxx-xxx-xxxx.
Sincerely,

Norma DePlume

PS: If the Interstate Transport Agreement transfer is approved, Mr. Jones' new probation officer will be William xxxxxx. His office number is xxx-xxx-xxxx.
Christmas came and went that year. Todd spent the holiday alone, as usual, in his cell. He had my photo though. It was all he had. Because this story is factual I do have to admit that Todd, being your typical man much less a felon, did jokingly ask me to send him more "revealing" photos. I wrote back to him and said,"that would be like showing you your Christmas present early and then wrapping it back up and putting it under the tree". He knew what I meant and he realized that I was not "that kind of girl". He wrote back and apologized for even asking. It only gave him more respect for me. He never asked again and I never sent him any more pictures. We had been lucky to get away with it the first time, I wasn't going to risk trying it again.
I spent my Christmas with family but I too, felt alone. I was lonesome for a man I had never met. I was beginning to become more and more lonesome for Todd as the days went by. I sent Todd a Christmas card saying, "You're in my heart now, stay there". I took out a $500 loan and packed a box as I had said I would do. I filled the box with clothing, toiletries, money for a plane ticket, a prepaid cell phone and a bible. Addressed it to Farther Mitchell c/o St. Thomas Catholic Church, Bartow, Florida. I carried this box in the trunk of my car, ready to ship at a moments notice. There was nothing left for me to do but to await a court date and pray the judge would would rule in our favor.

12. The Serrano Diaries

The website that would become my passion was in it's infancy. Todd began sending me documents that had belonged to mass murderer, Nelson Serrano. Documents the judge had ruled inadmissible. No one had ever actually seen these papers except for the prosecutors, defense attorneys, the Special Agent in charge of the case, and Judge Susan Roberts herself, though I doubt she ever read them.
(excerpts from the original letter 12/04/06)

.............people just want to read his (Serrano) words, that's all that matters. They show how weird he is and all the sick things he made up. I think you'll understand why he asked me to organize all this and write him a letter. Once you get them on the site, call that producer from that New York News station and let him know.

It was kind of creepy reading a killer's words written in his own handwriting. It was even creepier that they were now in my possession. Or at least copies of them. I scanned the notes and posted them on the site and entitled them "The Serrano Diaries". I posted the skit and a biography of Todd he had previously written. The website was finally up and running and became a hit within the Bartow courthouse. I even received a kind note to Todd from one of Serrano's victim's family members. She wrote:

Hi Todd, thank you for all you did in helping the State of Florida prove what kind of person Nelson Serrano really is. I hope that when you are released you will have the good life God gave you the ability to have. You are an intelligent and caring person and although I believe we end up where we are for a reason, I pray that one day you will be able to help people while you are in a much better place.

About this time I also began to notice a change in the tone of Todd's letters. In between writing instructions about who to call and which document to track down, his letters were becoming more personal. We had never met in person but had come to know each other through our letters. He had received a total of 3 "contraband" pictures of me and hid them all over his cell. One photo, he kept hidden on the wall next to his bed.

(excerpts from original letter 12/04/06)

..........you are on the wall next to my head. When I lay down in my bunk I look right at you. What the heck are you doing writing to me? It still blows me away. I am quite smitten with you and your behavior. You are my angel from heaven. There's no other explanation. I feel as though I'm 18 again. I feel alive.

Love,

Todd

xoxoxoxox

p.s. And that's friend to friend, heart to heart and I mean it. I also know that it can only grow stronger. Who knows what will happen. You make me feel so good.

On 12/10/06 I received a package from Todd. I opened it up only to find a plastic soap dish filled with candy. It was the most beautiful gift I have ever received. How in the world did a guy with out a penny to his name in a jail's isolation cell manage to get that for me? Still being leery of this whole situation, I was afraid to eat the candy. Fearing maybe it was poison or laced with drugs. After all, it had come from a correctional facility. I placed the soap dish on my bedside table where it was later found by one of my huskys who ate every piece, soap dish and all. The dog survived.

(excerpts from the original letter 12/12/06)

I hope you received my card and my "kisses" that I sent you. I couldn't wait to send it to you. You mean a lot to me, you'll just never know. You have to actually be in here and see and feel the despair in order to know what I mean. To get a letter from you is like walking outside your house right now and seeing the prettiest rainbow you have ever seen.

My heart was becoming weaker too. As I go back and read these letters I can see it now though I didn't know it at the time. On 12/10/06 I wrote:

.........Am I in love with you? I'm not so sure it's possible to love someone you've never met before. And love isn't something that comes my way very often. I will tell you this, there's something there and we owe it to our selves to figure out what that "something" is. You told me once you were scared. Well I'm terrified.

He was still in lockdown and wasn't able to leave his cell except for the 45 minutes a day he was allowed to shower and shave. Sometimes, if there was unrest within the jail, he wasn't allowed out at all. Because he was in isolation, he didn't have a window or a television in his cell like they show on TV. But there was TV in what they called the dayroom. Todd would take his plastic mat off his bunk and lie it on the floor. From there he could see the TV underneath the crack on his door. Once, on a particularly dark and depressing day, he saw a documentary about 911. He said it showed the airport where I live. Just being able to see the general area where I was made him feel happy and the depression went away.

Todd had that upcoming court date and we didn't know what would happen. He said the worst he could get would be 15 months in prison. My heart sank. But he also said the best that could happen would be that he got released on probation. I optimistically began to make preparations just in case he was released.

(excerpts from the original letter 12/14/06)

....you asked me once what was the first thing I wanted to do when I got out. I want to take you somewhere on a clear night and lay down on a huge blanket and look up at the stars and talk about life and God and hold you tight. And be free. Totally free for the first time in 43 years. Free from the past and everything that haunts me. And free to be with you.

The star gazing trip would have to wait. Todd's court date was postponed until January 12, 2007. We would have to wait another month to hear the judge's ruling on Todd's case. He spent that Christmas in jail.

11. Can You Hear Me Now?

".......just so you know I am not in the habit of waiting by the phone for some man to call"

That was how I ended a letter to an inmate I had never met who was in a Florida jail. I had seen this inmate on Court TV two months prior and had developed a relationship with him. Cautiously, I had sent him my telephone number and hoped that he would call. On November 29, 2006, I received that call.
"This is a collect call from a Florida correctional facility. To accept this call press 1"

Most people would not like getting a call like that. But the first time I heard that recording, my heart skipped a beat. Todd had tried to call several times before. But my phone had been disconnected. I paid the bill with my next paycheck and he tried to call again, but I was at work. Because he had been a witness for the prosecution, he was still in isolation and only allowed out of his cell 45 minutes a day. During that 45 minute time period, he had to get his daily shave, shower, exercise and make a phone call to me. We never knew exactly when he would be allowed out of cell and it was impossible to predict when he'd be able to call. I began a phone watch of sorts. I spent every available minute of every day staring at the phone. Finally, one Wednesday afternoon, it rang. This was the most beautiful phone call I've ever had.

The prison phones have a security device on them to prevent 3-way calling. If there is a audible pause in the conversation, the system will automatically terminate the call. It happened a few times during our first few phones calls. In order to prevent being disconnected, we quickly learned to keep the conversation flowing but my southern drawl meeting the rapidness of his northern New York accent made it a little difficult for us to understand each other. It was hilarious. We were like two giddy teenagers.

(excerpts from the original letter 11/29/2006)

Dear Todd,

You know I had to write after finally getting able to talk to you today. I'm still laughing. The two of us firing at each other at the speed of light! I was afraid we'd get disconnected again if one of us shut up. We've had enough disappointments. What a high that was!
We were only allowed to speak for 15 minutes at a time. And each call would cost about $20 so we limited our telephone calls to once a week. He would call every Sunday. I would stay home all day and stare at the phone until he called. I worked on commission but I was also paid $5.50 an hour salary. I decided to go into work an hour early everyday to earn the money to pay for the phone calls. This routine worked out beautifully.

Todd told me about what happened when Serrano came up behind him during the interview.he had with the New York news reporter the week before.

(excerpts from the original letter 12/03/06)

The interview with the television show went quite well - but started off crazy. You'll never believe what happened. As I first sat down and started talking I noticed another inmate coming towards me from my right side. He got almost behind me when I turned and looked. I was looking Nelson Serrano dead in the eyes! Talk about major screw-up by the guards. Serrano was more shocked than I was. The reporter was like "Holy Crap!". The guard that's walking behind Serrano, that I know very well, grabs Serrano and starts to walk him out of the room. Serrano looks back at me and says, "You're a dead man!". I stand up and tell the guard that he'd better hurry up and get Serrano out of the room. Serrano turns one last time and shouts, "You're dead!". Un- real.

This letter also included a list of the documents that had been destroyed and who to call or how to go about getting copies of everything. Some things could never be replaced. I keep this particular letter in a separate file. I have "to do list" written on the out side.

Please call my old attorney and tell her I'm sorry but I need another copy of my complete case file. Get the phone number for Richard Weiss - Clerk of Court - Bartow Courthouse. Get in touch with somebody at the felony records department. Tell them you need a copy of Probation Officer Michael Huntley's affidavit that he filed against me on Nov. 8th or 9th, 2004. I must have that affidavit. When you get it, send me 7 copies. I spent 90 days in jail on this false charge and wasn't released until February 10, 2005. I lost a very good job and was kicked out of my alcohol and drug treatment program, called Bay Care. My girlfriend would not let me come back to her house. This arrest is what caused me to become homeless. When I got out on the 10th, I rented a room for a few weeks in downtown Lakeland that was crime and drug infested. I was lost. I lasted a month and was arrested on the crazy car chase thing. Wait until you hear the whole story. Anyway, when you get her on the phone, tell the clerk you need the phone number and the address for the court reporter's office. When you get the court reporter, tell her you need a copy of the transcripts for the following court proceedings: February 10, 2005 and September 28, 2004. Keep one copy each, mail me 7 copies. Call Polk County Jail - CMS Medical, I need a copy of my book-in medical report for August 24, 2004. All this stuff was in that box Lighthouse Ministries threw away.

I did as Todd had asked. Started making phone calls. I became a regular at the Office Depot's copy machine. As I gathered documents, I made 7 copies of each and began mailing them all back to Todd. The jail only allowed 5 printed pages in at a time so these tasks would take weeks to accomplish. I had no idea what this was all about. When I found out, I would be horrified.

10. The Serrano Timeline

On November 19, 2006, I received another envelope from Leslie Todd Jones, an inmate in the Polk County Correctional Facility in Bartow, Florida. In this particular envelope, I found a money order for $30.00 along with a note asking that I help him replace some important papers that had been destroyed after he was arrested. He also asked that I use the money to start a website. www.leslietoddjones.com was born.

.........there's a story here and we're going to tell it. You did not cross my path by chance.

I laugh now when I read those words. He was right. There is a story. I had no idea how incredible the story would be and as of this writing, I still don't know how it will end. Looking back, if I had known about Polk Voice, I would have just started a blog, but at the time, I hadn't even heard of Lakeland, Florida or The Lakeland Ledger.

The Nelson Ivan Serrano trial had just ended. The jury had made their decision. Guilty, 4 counts of capitol murder. A story in the Lakeland Ledger stated that the jury based their decision mainly on an intricate timeline. Serrano had gone through great pains to develop a false alibi. It was Todd's testimony, along with the efforts of a determined Special Agent with the Florida Department of Law Enforcement to figure it all out. This timeline was also the reason Todd had requested that Abbott and Costello skit.

The ball was now in the Judge's hands. Would he get death? Or would he get life? We began to await a sentencing date.

Todd was upset because so much of the evidence he had gathered against Serrano had been squashed by this judge. He wanted that evidence made public. He had tried to do so in his interview with the news reporter from New York and with a reporter from the Tampa Tribune. We would use the website to publish everything the judge had not allowed.

He sent me a money order for $30.00 and asked if I would handle his legwork on the outside. He asked me to get a filing cabinet and start gathering documents and organizing them. Thirty dollars is not a lot of money so my filing cabinet became a package of cardboard file storage boxes from Office Depot. I started out with four. Overtime those four would begin to bust at the seams.

He also asked me for two new addresses. Polk County Commissioner Randy Wilkerson and The Lakeland Police Department.

(excerpts from the November 19, 2006 letter)

......Commissioner Wilkerson ... just won re-election and was falsely arrested by LPD a few months ago on a DUI. It was 3 in the morning and he was driving around Lakeland putting up campaign signs with a friend. He was exhausted. The primary was just a few days away (he won). LPD pulls him over, said he crossed the yellow line. They give him the breath test and he blows 0.00. Not one drop of alcohol! LPD charges him anyway. I hope he sues, he made front page news everywhere! I need to write him ASAP.

He also asked for a dictionary. But I had already jumped ahead of him and sent one along with that book, "A Million Little Pieces" that he had asked for in a previous letter.
Not knowing anything about building a website, I went online and did some research. I found a good site, registered a domain name, and posted an old mug shot of Todd. One that was taken before he became a homeless drug addict in a small town in Florida. His eyes seemed to stare at me off the page. Sad eyes. It was like he knew what tragedies lay ahead for his life. www.leslietoddjones.com was the name I chose. This website would become my passion. It would be viewed by many and hated by most. It would be Todd's chance to tell the truth about what really had happened in Florida all those years ago.

He sent me the Abbott and Costello skit back only he had re-written it to reflect what he had witnessed in the courtroom the day he testified against Serrano. It reflected when the vital "Serrano Timeline" had been presented to the jury. Quite comical, this skit became a hit with all those who had been involved with the trial. Except for the judge, who became my first enemy. I added it onto our new website.

NORGARD: Now Judge, for Mr. Serrano's defense we have Who's on the Orlando flight, What's on the Tampa flight and I Don't Know rented the car.

JUDGE ROBERTS: That's what I'm trying to find out!

NORGARD: I'm telling you. Who's on the Orlando flight, What's on the Tampa flight, I Don't Know rented the ......

JUDGE ROBERTS: Well all I'm trying to find out is what's the guy's name on the Orlando flight.

NORGARD: Oh no, What's the guy's name on the Tampa flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I'm not asking you who's on the Tampa flight.

NORGARD: Who's on the Orlando flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: That's what I'm trying to find out.

NORGARD: Well, don't change the suspects around Judge.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I'm not changing anybody.

NORGARD: Now, take it easy Judge.

JUDGE ROBERTS: What's the guy's name on the Orlando flight?

NORGARD: What's the guy's name on the Tampa flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I'm not askin' ya all who's on the Tampa flight.

NORGARD: Who's on the Orlando flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: Mr. Mason, do you have anything to add?

MASON: Why of course Judge, what is it you want to know?

JUDGE ROBERTS: Mr. Mason, what is the fellow's name who rented the car?

MASON: What is the fellow's name on the Tampa flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I'm not asking ya all who's on the Tampa flight.

MASON: Who's on the Orlando flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I don't know.

MASON: He rented the car, we're not talking about him.

JUDGE ROBERTS: Now how did I get back to the rental car?

MASON: Why did you mention his name?

JUDGE ROBERTS: If I mentioned the guy's name, who did I say rented the car?

MASON: No, Who's on the Orlando flight.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I don't know.

MASON: He rented the car.

JUDGE ROBERTS: There we go back to the rental car.

JUDGE ROBERTS: Look, if someone purchased a ticket for the Orlando flight, somebody's got to get it. Now, who has it?

MASON: Absolutely!

JUDGE ROBERTS: Who?

MASON: Absolutely!

JUDGE ROBERTS: Absolutely?

MASON: Absolutely.

JUDGE ROBERTS: So the girl at the ticket counter gave the ticket to Absolutely?

MASON: No, she gave the ticket to Who.

JUDGE ROBERTS: Absolutely.

MASON: It's about time Judge.

JUDGE ROBERTS: That's what I'm saying.

MASON: You're not saying it.

JUDGE ROBERTS: I'd give the ticket to Absolutely.

MASON: You'd give it to Who.

JUDGE ROBERTS: Absolutely.

MASON: That's it Judge.

JUDGE ROBERTS: Let me get this straight. Who purchases a ticket and whoever he is gets on the Orlando flight. He has another ticket and gives it to What to fly on the Tampa flight. Another guy actually committed the crimes. Why? I don't know! He rented the car and I don't give a darn.

MASON: What was that Judge?

JUDGE ROBERTS: I said I don't give a darn!

MASON: That's what we were hoping.

I had Thanksgiving dinner that year with Maureen, my best friend. Todd had Thanksgiving alone, in his cell. As he sat there, in jail, alone on that particular holiday, he wrote me a letter. I received it a week later. The whole page was covered with just two words; "thank-you" written about a hundred times. I had given him courage to face all the bad things he had done, hope for his future and strength to conquer what was to come.

9. The Interview

Isolation, aka "the hole", is the most brutal of all confinements. A place in every prison usually reserved for the most heinous inmates. Either as a form of punishment or for inmates that can't be placed in general population because they are a danger to others. In Leslie Todd Jones' case, others were a danger to him.

There are no windows in the hole. No TV's, no chairs upon which to sit, no table for your meals. No visitors, no magazines, no books to read. No contact with any other human being nor any other inmate. You are only allowed out 3 times a week, shackled and handcuffed, for a 3 minute shower. No exercise, no trips outside to the yard.

Due to his cooperation with the State of Florida in the Nelson Ivan Serrano mass murder trial, Todd would spend nearly 60 days in this prison within the prison. It would even be many more weeks before he was able to see the light of day or the dark of night. On November 5, 2006 Todd wrote that he had finally been moved out of isolation. This would only be a temporary move as Todd continued to work for law enforcement, therefore, he would be returned to "The Hole" on a regular basis.

(excerpts from the original letter)

Sunday 10:00 a.m. November 5, 2006

I've been moved out of isolation into a 15 man unit. Each person is still "locked down" but I now have a desk, a normal height bed and a TV in the day room that I can see from my cell. Last night I got to watch "Con Air", no jokes please. It feels so strange to be sitting up writing at a desk, it's going to take a few days to get used to.

As for my cell I have a window, 2 ft. x 6 ft., with bars. But it has a cover on the outside blocking any real kind of view. All I can tell is if it's day or night. Better than where I was in isolation.

I'm still separated from the other 15 guys, but we all get about 45 minutes each day, one at a time, and get to float around and talk and trade things. I don't get to go outside. I would love to just be able to talk a walk outside in the cold, drink a soda, read the newspaper.

I'm in here again because of the Serrano case - and trust me - it's big news in here. All the CO's admire me for it but most of the slime ball inmates don't. Ironically, only one inmate (in here) knows about the Serrano case and he's very cool. Don't worry, I can fight.

Yes, I do get very cold sometimes. There's nothing I can do about that. Better than being hot I suppose.

As for a counselor, you're it! I put in to talk to the one here but he's never come by.

My lawyer was here last Wednesday and I have a court date next month. Please pray for me.

Yours truly,

Todd

Along with his usual requests for names, addresses and documents; he made an unusual request for an old Abbott and Costello skit called "Who's on First". I thought maybe the inmates were going to put on a Christmas play or something. I found the skit and sent it to him.

He also told me that he had an interview with a New York news station at the end of the month and that he really needed those papers he had left in the boiler room at Lighthouse Ministries. I didn't know why that box of documents was so important or why a New York news reporter would need them at the time. Todd asked me to call Tony at Lighthouse Ministries back and find out Billy's last name so that he could send him the money to ship the box of papers to his family in Long Island. I telephoned Tony the next day, only to learn that vital box of papers had been turned over to the director and subsequently destroyed. I wrote to Todd and told him the bad news. He took it all in stride saying, "We'll just have to get them back then". Something that would take us months to do.

It was about this time that Todd began trying to call me on the phone, collect. But as luck would have it, I hadn't had the money to pay the phone bill and my phone had been shut off. He would continue to try on a weekly basis. It would take longer to receive that first phone call from Todd than it had been to smuggle a thumb sized picture of me into the jail.

The New York news reporter did come to see Todd and as the interview was taking place, Nelson Serrano himself walked up behind Todd and a scuffle ensued. The reporter would later write:

The visitation room is an open space with individual stalls divided by sound proof plexi-glass with a phone installed in each booth for communication. Despite that Jones was under protective custody due to his participation with the State in the Serrano trial, Nelson Serrano was brought into the room directly behind where Jones was sitting, thus making him vulnerable to a potential attack. When Serrano saw that Jones was speaking to me, a person Serrano knew to be with the media, he became visibly upset. Due to the sound-proofing, I could not hear what was being said, but there were threats made and pushing and shoving. Guards had to separate the two of them. A female guard later came up and apologized to Mr. Jones for putting him at risk, for the two inmates are supposed to be kept separate at all times. She later explained to me that to make sure this problem did not reoccur that Mr. Jones’ visitation schedule would be held on different days then Mr. Serrano.

This reporter also asked the facility for an on camera interview, but the facility denied that request.

........Later, I approached the Polk County Sheriff’s department about conducting an on-camera interview with Mr. Jones so I could talk to him about his knowledge of the case. I spoke with Chief Steven Lester who is in charge of the jail facilities. Despite that Jones himself wanted to participate and the prosecuting attorney and investigators had given their okay, Lester told me that my request was denied. Lester indicated to me that he was worried about Jones’ safety. He went on to explain that it is his job to protect inmates even when they do not see it as in their best interest and he believed that Jones would be further opening himself up to retribution for being a “jail house snitch” if he participated. The problem is, however, that this is a very high-profile case in Polk County and the trial was held live on Court-TV, covered e news stations, Dateline NBC, as well as by area newspapers. The inmates in the jail are already aware of Jones’ participation in the case, which is why he is already in protective custody. Mr. Jones is not safe in his current surroundings.

This would be the first time Todd was attacked within the prison walls. The first of many. The Florida Department of Corrections did not give Todd very much protection after his cooperation with the State. And there would be many more attacks to come. Todd was on his own. Locked behind bars with people who wanted to kill him and handicapped by a prison system that couldn't figure out how to protect him.

8. A Picture is Worth a 1000 Stamps

He wanted a picture of me. Not wanting to break any rules or laws, I telephoned the jail. I was directed to the mail room and spoke with the young lady responsible for opening and inspecting Inmate # 0622141's mail. She said photos were not allowed to be sent to inmates. Remembering that my mother was a commercial artist, I asked her if I could send a drawing. The mail room lady said a drawing would be acceptable as long as it wasn't explicit. Explicit? She didn't know me! I was already apprehensive about sending an inmate a picture of me and if I did, it certainly would not be an explicit one!

I sat down and my mother sketched my face. I wrote a note on the sketch and mailed it the next day. They wouldn't allow this inmate to have it. He wouldn't get to see this sketch until months later. This would lead to my first and only "crime". One I learned to do well. Smuggling contraband into a correctional facility.

I've got a stack of letters in all sorts of different types of envelopes in my office. They all have two things in common. They are all stamped "Return to Sender: Contains Contraband". They have been slit open by a letter opener, re-sealed with scotch tape, and mailed back to me. I must admit I was embarrassed the first time I received one. Thinking what Phyllis, my mail lady, must have thought as she dropped the envelopes in my mail box. I would eventually overcome that embarrassment. The other thing these letters have in common, is that 90% of them all contain tiny pictures of me.

When I got a letter back from Todd saying, "Thanks for the sketch, but they won't let me have it. It's in my property room and I'll get it when I'm released", I knew I'd have to be more crafty. I'd have to commit my first crime; smuggling contraband into a correctional facility.

I looked around but I didn't have any current pictures of me. Not finding any, I decided to ask for help from my best friend, Maureen. She made her living as a graphic artist and her home was full of cameras and equipment that could make a photo small enough to sneak into an envelope. In order to do that, however, I'd have to tell her what I had been up to and where the photo would be going. She would be the first to know about my secret.

Maureen is my best friend. We all have one. She's the kind of friend that you can call in the middle of the night when you can't sleep over a heartbreak. She's the kind you can always depend on to feed your dog when you are on vacation. The kind that never forgets birthdays or anniversaries, the kind that always shows up with chocolate ice cream when you've had a bad day.More importantly, she's the kind that you can safely tell your deepest darkest secrets. How was I going to tell her that I had been writing an inmate that I had never met in a Florida jail and that I needed her assistance in photographing me and making a picture small enough to smuggle into the jail? Surely she'd think I was nuts. But that's what best friends are for.

We were walking partners and met every morning at 5:30 a.m. to walk before our kids awoke. I decided to divulge my secret to Maureen the following day. It took me a few minutes to gather up courage to approach the subject. About 15 minutes into our routine, I took off my radio head phones and motioned to her to do the same. "I've got something to tell you" I sheepishly explained. Then I told her the whole story. Her mouth dropped wide open. She asked what he was in for and I rattled off his list of crimes. "Oh my God!" she said. "What if he comes here? What if he steals our cars?" I laughed as she said that and told her, "Oh Maureen! No one could steal your car without first putting in a quart of transmission fluid!".

It was true. A few nights back Maureen and I had a hair raising ride in her mini van. We attempted to drive up to a convenience store only the van wouldn't go into "park" and we wound up on the sidewalk, nearly crashing into the glass window. Then, when we tried to leave, her van wouldn't go into reverse. So she ran into the store and bought a quart of transmission fluid, popped the hood and poured it in. Worked like a charm, this time. Next time we may not be so lucky.

Being a really, really good friend, she reluctantly she agreed to help me. Later that day I went to her house for my "photo shoot". We scanned the picture onto computer paper, just as Todd had asked, placed it behind an address label onto a 9x12 manilla envelope and sent it on it's way.

That envelope would come back to me. Stamped "contains contraband". As would a few others. I tried to sneak it in anyway I could. It always came back. Once I was standing in the local post office, diligently trying to fold it up and stick it underneath a stamp, when I heard a man's voice behind me say hello. I recognized that voice and startled, I jumped. It was Tom. Our local police chief. Here I was trying to commit my first crime and the chief of police himself walks up behind me! Tom and I were old friends and had dated years ago. We made small talk and he left without ever knowing what I was doing.

It would take weeks but the picture would eventually make it into the jail facility, placed in the seams on the inside of an envelope. In the meantime, we wrote back and forth and the letters became more frequent.

(excerpts from his original letters from November, 2006)

......please excuse my handwriting at times. I don't have a table or a chair and I write on my legs as I'm sitting on my bed. I'm having a serious sugar rush from the candy you bought me - thanks for the canteen money. I also bought skin lotion, deodorant and paper to write on. I started reading the book that you sent me and couldn't put it down. Several stories brought tears to my eyes. Have you read the book "A Million Little Pieces" by Michael Fry? If you come across it, I'd really like to read it.

Can you please find out what the statute of limitations are in the state of Florida for assault by a police officer and false arrest? I need to know the state limitations and the federal 1983 suit limitations.

He continued to ask for addresses too; Court TV, NBC Dateline, etc. Once he jokingly asked I go to Home Depot and purchase a package of hack saw blades and send those to him, but then he said he read their rule book and hack saw blades wern't allowed. "Figures" he wrote. I laughed. I was beginning to laugh more and more as I read those letters. Laughing was something I hadn't done in years. Struggling as a single mom to keep food on the table and the bills paid, going on one bad date after another, and watching my mom slowly drift into Alzheimers, I never had much reason to smile, much less laugh. Todd's letters gave me something to look foreword to each day. I was getting more and more involved with this mysterious inmate. And I was beginning to fall in love. Though I didn't see that at the time.

Some things Todd asked me to do were not connected to his case at all. He just wanted me to get to know him. Who he had been before all this.

(excerpts from his letter dated 10/30/06)

........If you have the time while you are on the internet, go to Charlotte County Sun .com in Florida. Go to the archives - I believe June 2002, and punch in my name. You have to be month specific on their site. Greg Martin was the reporter and he did a story about the phosphate industry. You can also go to the East Hampton Star . com in NY and go to their archives. I'm sure you will get several interesting and entertaining stories about me. I've been fighting "big people" and those that think they are better than others my entire life (most of it).

I absolutely promise you that I will compensate you for everything you have done. You are a God Send. This is no coincidence. Keep writing, I love reading your letters.

And I did write. Every day. I wrote about my childhood, my kids,my job, my dogs. Anything to give him something to read. I tried to make my stories light and humorous. I eventually told him my real name which until this point I hadn't done, and I sent him my phone number and hoped he would call. I wanted to hear his voice.

The man that bragged in the adjacent cell to Todd about shooting the girl with an AK-47, was taken to court for a hearing. As he was being escorted by Todd's cell on the way back he gave Todd a cold stare and held up his right hand; making a talking motion with his thumb and fingers. Todd knew they had told him that he had snitched. He never talked about the murder to Todd again. On February 19, 2007, he would take a plea deal, two counts of accessory after the fact. As of this writing he has yet to be sentenced. Todd would be moved again, for his own safety.

This killer's brother, also involved in the incident, would accept a deal by the State's Attorney's Office to just 3rd degree murder. He was sentenced in late September of this year to a mere 10 years.

In time, I would learn that prosecuting murderers in Polk County is not a swift process and the outcome is not always just.

7. The Good Thief

Develop a benevolent world view; look for the good in people and circumstances around you. Look for the good in every person and every situation. You'll almost always find it.

There is a story in the bible about a couple of thieves. These two thieves were crucified on two crosses on either side of Jesus. One of these thieves mocked Jesus along with the Roman guards. The other thief believed in Jesus and asked Jesus to take him with him that day to paradise. The Catholic church has declared this thief, "The Good Thief", a saint. Saint Dismas is his name and fittingly, he is the patron saint of prisoners. A reminder to all of us that no matter what your sins, it's never too late to turn from your sinful ways and accept the Lord as your personal Savior and be accepted into heaven.

It was that thinking I had in my head when I decided to look up Todd's arrest record. I put my computer skills to work and did a little research. I wanted to see for myself, what kind of person this guy was. Arrest records are public knowledge, so it wasn't too hard.

Again I went to the Polk County Sheriff's website. I clicked on jail information and then again to the name of Leslie Todd Jones. It wasn't just one arrest as I had hoped. He had been arrested several times. I clicked each case number, starting from the oldest and worked my way up. Each record listed what he was charged with, how long he had been held in jail, how and when he was released each time and a mug shot. I read each one carefully. Domestic violence, possession of a controlled substance, carrying a concealed weapon, burglary, grand theft auto, fleeing to elude a police officer and driving while license suspended. I wrote back to him.

(excerpts from the original letter dated 10/20/06)

......I read your arrest record tonight. Kind of lengthy. If I could give you any advice it would be that you may want to think about relocating. LoL You probably can't walk down the street without getting picked up and harassed about something.

I had some experience with police officers. I had dated a couple over the years. I knew how they thought. When someone is marked as a troublemaker they automatically assume that person is up to no good when they see that person out. On November 2, he wrote back:

Ah....my record. Many explanations. First a little background. Born and raised in the Hamptons, as I mentioned in my last letter. No stranger to speaking out against authority. (If you found some articles on the internet about me). Night club security for the rich and famous through the 80's and 90's and all that comes with it. Rosie O'Donnel, Andrew Dice Clay, Charlie Sheen, Bianca Jagger, Billy Joel, Rob Lowe, Russell Simmons (CEO of Def Jam Records) and many, many more. No bull. Parents and family loaded. Me - only son and very black sheep. Family is pretty ticked off at me this moment.

I never adjusted to Florida. Check out my "record". The domestic violence and drug charge were both dismissed. They were from me punching out my brother-in-law for losing the deposit on our house we had wired to him, before moving here in May of '98. The cops went through my belongings and found my anabolic steroids. Anadrol, Clenbutoral, Sustenon, etc. I've always lifted weights and shot a little "juice" for the security work. I'm not a small man. 5'11" and 225 pounds. I bench press 425 pounds when in my best form. After the fight I became separated from my family for about a year. I lived in a hotel, became depressed and started to hang out with Mr. Jack Daniels again. Not a very good friend. One night coming home from the bar my car broke down, I needed pliers. Somewhat intoxicated , I walked into to a Wal-Mart and left with a $3 pair of pliers. It was my Wynonna Ryder train of thinking. As to the grand theft auto and those related charges, I did not steal that car. Someone left it in my driveway, a former friend. Turns out it was hot and when I took it out for a spin, LPD chased me in small un-marked cars - that's the fleeing to elude charge.

Again, all this after the mother of my children was diagnosed with breast cancer and my dad. He passed away on 10/16/04. I lost it. And yes many people go through bad things and don't screw up. I realize this. I'm never ever coming back here again - promise. I'm truly ashamed for what I've done. I'm done with Jack Daniels and coke (not cola) for good. I've lived this life for a reason and thank God I'm still alive.

Send me a picture. That's a big no no but there is a way. Print out a picture on a computer paper, a little bit smaller than an address label. Get a large 9x12 manilla envelope and put the picture face down under the address label. When I peel off the address label I'll have your picture.

By the way, my connections in law enforcement have me working on another case. Seems a man in Lakeland shot a 21 year old girl in the back of the head with an AK-47. She had a six month old child. He's in the cell next to me. He's toast!

I didn't really believe all his explanations about the reasons he had been arrested. I am the kind of person who has to find out things for herself. I would, in time, and after months of my own research, be able to verify that everything he was telling me was true. I would also find out all kinds of things I would wished I had never known. Details about murderers and child molesters and gansters; and about truth and justice and the fallible court system. This letter would mark my first involvement in funneling information to authorities. It would also mark my introduction into the criminal world and the realization that there are good guys and there are bad guys both in the criminal world and the world of law enforcement.

6. Unsinkable Souls

Un-sink-able Soul : Person who faces any challenge with hope, humor and heart. See stick-to-it-ness. See perseverance. See pit bull. See also victory.

The first book I sent this mysterious inmate, the first of many, was a Chicken Soup Book. Chicken Soup for the Unsinkable Soul. It had been given to me at a particularly low time in my life and had lifted my spirits. Knowing that he was locked up in solitary confinement, void of any extrasensory stimulation, I hoped it would do the same for him. "Is there anything else I can do?", I asked. And the requests began. Ever so slightly. It wasn't money as I expected. He wanted names, and addresses and documents. These small tasks would eventually get me involved and a host of situations, including an unsolved homicide that occurred in Polk County over a decade ago.

The first thing he wanted to know was if I had a computer and did I have internet access. The deluge of requests poured in. He sent me a lists of addresses he needed. The Lakeland Ledger, the Tampa Tribune, NBC News Action 8, Associated Press in Florida and an attorney. "She represented me in the Serrano matter. I really need her phone number" he wrote.

Then he wrote that he had a huge problem. He told me to Google the name "Lighthouse Ministries" and when I found it, I was to call the number and ask for a guy named Tony. I was to tell Tony that a resident named Billy had stored Todd's legal papers somewhere at the shelter and to please find them and then Todd would make arrangements to have them picked up. It was urgent as these documents could not be replaced.

That's really how this story began. A simple box of legal papers left at a homeless shelter. It would take me almost a year to get them back for Todd. Looking back, if I had known how important that box would become in my life, I'd have driven to Florida that night to retrieve them myself. Now I sit and type my story as fast as I can. At the moment of this writing, there is a legitimate fear that a I will soon hear a knock on my door from a process server or a sheriff's deputy with a subpoena asking for my computer. (If my blog stops, it will only be temporarily. I have made arrangements if the inevitable happens. I've learned to be savvy and err on the side of caution where lawyers and law enforcement are concerned.)

I made the call as requested. I spoke with Tony and told him why I was calling. Tony put the phone down for a few minutes and I could hear him hollering at this Billy person in the background. Evidently, storing one of the resident's belongings was a big no-no. Tony came back to the phone to tell me he had found Todd's box of papers stashed in the boiler room. I could make arrangements to send for them. As for Billy, he was evicted from the shelter that day for his part in storing these papers, i.e.; breaking the rules. I've often worried about Billy. I've worried about what happens when a homeless person gets evicted from a shelter. He had done Todd a great deed in hanging onto those papers. Somewhere on the streets of Lakeland Florida, is a homeless person that's got a heart of gold. When all this is over, I have every intention of coming back to Lakeland and searching for Billy, if he's still alive. And when I do, he won't be homeless anymore.

I wrote to Todd telling him his records were safe and I listed all the addresses for which he had asked. Now I had some questions for him.

(excerpts from the original letter dated 11/2/06)

Tell me more about your cell. Do you have a window? What about the other guys in area? I mean, I know why you are in ISO (solitary confinement) but - gulp - why are the other guys in there? Do you get to go outside? Can you see the stars? Do you sleep okay? Do you ever get cold? What do you miss the most? What's the first thing you want to do when you get out? You mentioned a counselor, do you have someone in there you can talk to besides other cell mates?

I had lots of questions. I had no idea what it was like to be behind bars. Especially in ISO, aka "the hole". I often thought about locking myself up in my bathroom as a sort of psychological experiment. Just to see what it was like and how long I could take it. I was beginning to worry about this inmate. Of course, I'm a Christian, I care for everybody. When you are a Christian you can't help but care. What I didn't see then, was that I was beginning to care a little more each day for this guy. And I anxiously waited for Phyllis, my mail lady, to bring me the next letter.

5. Nature Versus Nurture

Encyclopedia defines the nature versus nurture debate as the relative importance of an individual's innate qualities and personal experiences in determining or causing individual differences in physical and behavioral traits. Does a person's DNA determine who will succeed in life and who will become an addict and a criminal? Or rather is it the person's early childhood development and upbringing that determines that? I used to believe the latter. That is until I met an unusual inmate in the Polk County Jail.

In my second letter to Todd Jones, DC # 0622141, I thought it best to relate my childhood and upbringing. If I were going to be able to encourage and comfort him, and eventually convince him to turn away from his addictions and criminal ways, then I'd better get down to his level. Or so I thought.

"I grew up on a small farm in Mississippi", I wrote. I never knew my father and my mother was an abusive alcoholic. My childhood memories were all painful. I dropped out of school and left home at the age of fourteen. Thumbing my way to a small town in Texas. "No one came to look for me", I added. Except the perverts, drug dealers and pimps that prey on young girls traveling alone.

I overcame all that and managed to land a small job, lying about my age. I had always taken care of myself. When I was eighteen I married a man 13 years my senior. Like my mother before him, he too turned out to be an abusive alcoholic. By the age of thirty, I finally broke away from this union and found myself sleeping on a dirty mattress on the floor of a rundown shack on the wrong side of town with my now two children. Despite it all, I managed to get my GED and land a four year scholarship. I eventually found a better job, a better place to live and had raised my children on my own. "If I had done it, then you can too", I suggested. I ended the letter with one of my fumbled scriptures. "Again", I wrote, "I can't say exactly where it is in the bible, but it goes something like, suffering begets endurance, endurance begets perseverance, perseverance begets character and it's our character that makes us who we are".

His letter back to me wasn't exactly what I had expected. He had a childhood just the opposite. He came from a wealthy and loving family in East Hampton, Long Island, New York. He had grown up in a life of luxury. He graduated high school and went on to trade school where he studied his passion, automobile restoration. He was first introduced to cocaine at a party for a famous Sports Illustrated model (name withheld). In 1998, he moved with his common law wife and two children to Lakeland, Florida to be near her family. It wasn't until coming to Florida, did his life take a turn for the worst. "Oh and by the way", he wrote, "that scripture you mentioned is Romans, Chapter 5, verses 3-5".

So much for the nature versus nurture debate. If anyone should have wound up a drug addict in jail in a small town in Florida, it should have been me, not him. I scrapped together 10 bucks for a money order and sent it back to him. I wanted to be sure he had plenty of stamps and envelopes so that he could write back to me. I had found his story fascinating and wanted to hear more. How does a rich guy from the uppity side of New York wind up a homeless drug addict in a Florida jail? The answer would shock me.