And those were practically the first words out of his mouth when I last visited Walter at the Cumberland County Jail, and we got to talking about his mug shot in the paper. And he really does look pretty scary in that photo -- dangerous, older than his years, a little used up by a hard life of drinking and living on the streets. But this is not at all the Walter that I know, the man who has sat quietly in the back of the church for over a year now, and occasionally attended the coffee hour, and actually made some friends (other than me) in the congregation. We know a quiet, gentle, kind and talented wandering soul who has found his way into our community and who now has an opportunity to create a new life for himself as an artist and college student...or at least he did until he was arrested three weeks ago. And now that life is up for grabs, simply because his right to a fair and speedy trial looks like it will be neither speedy nor entirely fair.
Notwithstanding the legal technicality that it was within his reach had he known it was there, no one who knows Walter believes that he is guilty of the crime with which he is charged, Possession of a Concealed Weapon. It wasn’t his car, there’s no evidence it was his knife, if it was concealed from anyone first and foremost it was Walter, who just so happened to be sitting in the passenger seat under which the knife was hidden. The only thing Water was concerned about concealing was the beer, and that only after he realized that the alley was full of cops, well after the initial confrontation and arrest, all of which he claims happened behind his back and without his knowledge. All he was interested in was sitting in the passenger’s seat and drinking more beer, which is kinda how he’d gotten to be there in the first place.
Nor does anyone who knows him believe that Walter is guilty of the crime with which he is NOT being charged (at least not formally), which is conspiracy to participate in a cold-blooded, premeditated triple murder. It simply doesn’t pass the so-called “sniff test.” None of the evidence implicates him: not his car, not his guns, and this time the weapons weren’t even in his possession -- rather they were still behind him in the trunk, while Walter himself never left the car. Walter told me that he wasn’t even aware anything was going on until the back-up arrived with their lights and sirens, at which point his big concern became trying to hide (or finish up) the booze!
Which is not to say that Walter ISN’T guilty of a LOT of things, all of which basically boil down to using poor judgment and making bad decisions, which once again led to him being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people...”three sheets to the wind,” as sailors are fond of saying, and his own worst enemy. And as I tried to tell the judge at Walter’s bail hearing last week, it’s not society that needs to be protected from Walter, it’s WALTER who needs to be protected from Walter...and the best way to achieve that is NOT to keep him in jail, but to send him through Rehab and to allow him to enroll in college, which is exactly where we were two months ago, when Walter was discharged from the hospital.
And this is where my boundaries all start to get a little fuzzy (and maybe even a little crazy), as I try to sort out the differences between my relationship with Walter as his pastor and our relationship as friends, between co-dependence and “Christian charity,” between Walter’s status as unique and individual human being, as a Veteran, as a Native American, as a member of an oppressed and marginalized social class, as a homeless alcoholic. Just another stereotypical "Drunken Indian." That sort of thing.
All this is further complicated by the fact that a month from now I’m going to be living on the West Coast, and will be unavailable to stand by Walter and support him in what I know firsthand is the very intimidating situation of enrolling in college as a forty-something year old adult. And for Walter this is even more intimidating that it was for me, who already had three college degrees when I returned to school again as an adult learner, and who had always found school a fairly friendly and welcoming place. So it’s no surprise for me that Walter sometimes feels cold feet, perhaps even self-doubt; or that he wonders whatever possessed him to make this decision, and second-guesses himself all the time. I can even understand why at times the street, drinking, and even jail might seem like safer (or at least more familiar) alternatives to the experience of attending Art School.
When he’s not drinking (and often even when he is), Walter is a very talented artist, and an intelligent human being: kind, caring, generous, funny, spiritual, and yet hardened in a way that once again is very different from my own experience, just as my experience as a student is very different from Walter’s. Once more, this is where the boundaries start to get fuzzy. For this to work, Walter has got to want this for himself more than I (and the other people in the community who have been pulling for him) want it for him. But I’m not really sure he even understands how important this can be for him in the same way that I do. This opportunity truly represents for him a chance for a new and different life, a “second chance” to create for himself whatever kind of lifestyle he chooses. Which is why it is SO IMPORTANT that he learns to make BETTER choices than he’s sometimes made in the past.
I also want to say that we all owe an incredible debt of gratitude to Officer Stephen Black, whose perceptiveness, quick action, and personal courage turned what might have been a national news story into a few local headlines. There have been enough church shooting tragedies in the news this past year. Thank God and Officer Black that we are not another.
My prayers right now are for everyone whose lives this incident has touched: Walter to be certain, but also the other defendant and the alleged targets, the members of my church (many of whom aren’t entirely sure WHAT to make of all this), the members of the larger Portland community, and a legal system where both justice and mercy (not to mention the presumption of innocence) are often obscured by the pressure to convict, and the ubiquitous “guilt” of just about everyone who is unfortunate enough to be swept up into the process. Including those of us who are only guilty of making assumptions, jumping to conclusions, or looking the other way. Walter has already served three weeks, and could easily be incarcerated through the end of the summer, on charges he is not very likely to be convicted of should this matter ever come to trial. No doubt at some point he will be enticed into pleading guilty in exchange for time served, and then with any luck he will be able to pick up the pieces of the life that was waiting for him. Or else just return to his familiar world of shelters and alcohol, until his next run-in with the law. I just wish it were possible for me to make more of a difference in all this. And who knows? With the help of others, maybe I still can.
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