I went to jail Friday. First I went to the DMV. The Division of Motor Vehicles to exchange my Washington State Driver’s License for an Alaska Driver’s License. I told the clerk I had lived here before, many years ago, and handed her my ID. She looked at the screen for a while, then got a funny look on her face and directed me to a machine for taking the driver’s test. After my test, which I failed, I returned to her station to find her talking with two Anchorage Police Officer’s. They turned and asked my name, and then said I was under arrest. As they handcuffed me in the middle of the DMV, which was packed with people, I asked what the charge was…they didn’t know. All they knew was I had a bench warrant out from 1987. No bail. They took me downtown, stripped searched me, throughly, issued me jail clothes and put me in a Small Gym Room with 30 other men. I had never been in jail before. No stop laughing, really, I mean it. Not overnight, anyways. I am an imposing figure when I frown and I’m tall so I did my best to look intimidating. And hunkered down on the floor with my bed-roll. I have only been back in Anchorage for a week and didn’t know my contacts phone numbers. I couldn’t find anyone’s name in the phone book. I couldn’t get bailed out but I wanted to assure them I was ok. I still haven’t been told why I’m there. After observing daily jail life and the various routines involved, a WHOLE ‘nother story, I was taken to the court room in jail clothes and handcuffs with about 15 other men. ALL of the others were in on charges involving drugs or alcohol. In fact, I did not meet anyone in jail who was NOT involved in drugs and alcohol. No robberies, rapes, murders, what-have you. As we were herded into the bullet-proof glass-walled court room separating us from the court room proper, I was given a sheet of paper stating my charges. Naturally I had spent the entire night before wracking my brain as to what I could have done 24 years ago to land me here. It didn’t take me long to come up with a number of embarrassing, horrible, oh-my-god-what-was-I-thinking episodes of my mis-spent youth. It was with some puzzlement I read that on Dec. 21, 1987, the Solstice, I was ticketed for “driving with license suspended, revoked or other” and given a court date. Apparently I didn’t go and a bench warrant was issued for my arrest. No bail. As I listened to the judge hear the other cases concerning the deportation of 3 brothers back to Columbia for trying to obtain an Alaska Permanent Dividend Fund check with false documents, and the guys caught with over 60 grams of Black Tar Heroin, to name just a two, I pondered what the judge, who seemed in a VERY bad mood, would have to say to me. When my name was called and I walked to the podium I must confess, I felt no fear. None. I was prepared to accept whatever happened as being for the greater good of all. Ok, maybe I was LITTLE scared. I DID say, “God, or whatever, thanks. Thanks for this opportunity to grow. Please help me take it like a man (whatever THAT means)”. When the judged remarked he had no paperwork to work with, he asked me what this was all about. I replied “I have no idea. I don’t remember any of this. I just flew in last week after 24 years and tried to get a Drivers License.” That’s true. Of all the terrible things I remembered the night before, oh ok, not really that terrible, driving on a suspended license wasn’t one of them. The prosecutor said he had no paperwork and they both remarked that no one was still there (alive?) who signed the original orders. The judge was inclined to dismiss the case without prejudice and so that’s what they did. The judges last words to me were.: “It was over 23 years ago, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. However it doesn’t bode well that only a week back home and your already in the “system”.” Hmm. Well a few hours later, after what seemed an indeterminable amount of time, I found myself in my own clothes walking out the front door. And what I found was…the reason I came back to Alaska in the first place. A beautiful blond haired-blue eyes Alaskan woman who invited me home. I DID half expect her to blow me off, insecurity on my part, I suppose. Next week, as I’m out job hunting, I’ll think on the young men I left in jail…there but for the grace of God, go I.