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Today's Featured Biography
Jeff Fallon
What a long and winding road I've traveled since high school. I have had an "interesting" life to say the least. Interesting can mean many things, sometimes good sometimes bad; I have often received an extra helping of each.
I guess I should start with what ended my senior year about three months early. March 10, 1981 just three days after I turned eighteen, I was having gin for lunch with some friends, when my friend Eric suggested we ride off into the hills on our motorcycles, to which I replied "let's race!" On our return trip racing down the washed out horse trail behind Bernardo Yorba Jr. High, I wiped out at about 65 M.P.H. I crushed three ribs and virtually destroyed my liver and right lung. Through the grace of God and great surgeons, I survived. In time, I recovered from my injuries completely. What I didn't recover from was the intense addiction to the pain medication; soon, I couldn't find the strength to live without some kind of mood altering substance. Thus, began my struggle to live with an addiction that would torment me, comfort me, harden me, strengthen me, disappoint me, and finally enable me to so see how my experience could benefit others.
In my early twenties while working as a mechanic at Goodyear, I met a girl named Eileen. This red haired beauty captured my heart; the romance that ensued was unlike anything I had ever dreamed was possible; I was in love for the first time in my life. We laughed and we loved. The times we spent together were the best times of my life. My love was true and lasted for some years; but it was always overshadowed by my selfish addiction to drugs. My life today is full of joy and contentment; I try to look to the future with enthusiastic optimism without dwelling on the past; but I can't help but regret the love that was lost when Eileen went away.
The next years of my life I lived in many different places. With a natural mechanical ability, and a friendly confident personality, I could easily acquire interesting work anywhere I went. I worked at many different jobs, and I acquired many skills. Some of the more interesting were: restoring classic and antique automobiles for O.C. Classic Cars. I made guitars for Leo Fender at G&L. Guitars in Fullerton. I spent one winter season making snow at Snow Summit (free lift passes). I went to school for electronic technician, and I worked manufacturing digital test equipment, and surface mount computer circuit board manufacturing. In Idaho, I worked for M.K. Rail as a diesel electric locomotive mechanic. I have worked in construction, and as a welder, machinist, etc…
The one thing that was consistent through all these years was my desire to party harder than anyone else. I used alcohol and experimented with every kind of drug that I could get my hands on (I was quite resourceful). So I guess you could say I went to a party when I was eighteen and I didn't get back until I was thirty eight. When I was about thirty, cocaine and methamphetamine became a serious problem in my life. I was dealing drugs to supplement my income, and eventually dealing became my only source of income. One night, I was shot in both legs and witnessed my friend get shot in the face over a cocaine deal gone bad, and still I went on using without fear (I must admit at the time my only fear was running out of drugs). I moved to Boise Idaho in an effort to get away from the drugs, and I managed to do so for periods of time.
In Boise I met Mona, the very short relationship could have been a feature on the Jerry Springer Show; need I say more? But the best gift I have ever received came out of our brief time together; my darling daughter Cassie who I love and adore. The summer of 2003 she was finally old enough (eight yrs. old) to travel to visit me for summer vacation. We spent time getting to know each other and we had great fun together in Las Vegas and at the River in Laughlin.
At age thirty four, I was working at Burns Brothers truck stop in Boise as a diesel truck mechanic. I was dating a young woman from work named Angela who worked behind the counter. One Thursday morning, on my day off, I got up to have my breakfast and watch the news. Suddenly, Angela's picture appeared on the television; the news guy announced that Angela had been raped and strangled to death, and that the police had some cowboy suspect in custody. Later that year the cowboy was convicted and sentenced to life in prison. I never returned to that job, neither did I look for another job. I immediately dove headfirst back into my addiction. By this age in most people's lives they have developed skills to cope with the uncomfortable, sometimes painful emotions that are a part of everyone's life; in this respect, I had no other coping mechanism than the immediate escape into my addiction. (I believe this emotional immaturity is the single most detrimental effect of alcohol and drug use on the developing minds of children and young adults.) About a month later, three days before Christmas 1997, I returned home from shopping to find my home burned to the ground. Two months later I was called home to California for my fathers' funeral. It would be years before I was to face the pain of these tragedies sober.
About this time I took a job in Boise, as an assistant cook; but instead of cooking food I was learning to cook Meth in a clandestine drug lab; it wasn’t long before I had mastered the craft. I acquired financial backing and I was soon in business for myself. The lure of easy money and influence over people was intoxicating. In a short time, I was generating vast amounts of tax free cash. I had lots of new "friends", mostly interested in a piece of the action. It wasn't long before I was swallowed up into a sub culture of addicts from every class: businessmen, and medical professionals, computer engineers, and common street criminals. The novelty of being "That Guy" was short lived. There were those who wanted what I had and would stop at nothing to take it from me. I barely escaped being abducted, and probably killed by a woman and her two brothers who had traveled from Indiana to try to get their hands on my money. After having my home burglarized a few times; I purchased some guns and a motor home, and I began traveling freely across the western states making Meth along the way. When I became aware of an investigation into my "business" by the Boise police, I headed back to California the same day, never to return.
Prolonged use of Meth began to take a toll on my physical and psychological health. I withdrew from my family and society, I only had contact with others when absolutely necessary. Sometimes I wouldn't sleep for three weeks or more. Sometimes I wouldn't eat for days; I was 6' 1" and I weighed about 135 pounds. I once visited U.C.I. Hospital and asked the staff to make the bugs that were crawling out from under my skin, go away. The staff directed me to the psych department where they immediately recognized the signs of a drug induced psychosis. The staff, with the help of two police officers intended to admit me, against my will, for a 48 hour observation; I came to my senses after receiving an injection of Phenobarbital.; I overheard someone tell the police that I wasn't going to be a problem now because the injection would render me unconscious. Actually, I had so much Meth in my system that the Phenobarbital just kind of leveled me off; I was able to escape, half naked in a hospital gown, I was chased out into the night where I hid, shivering in the dark, until I could make it back to my motor home in a parking lot down the street; I was off to make and use more Meth. My life wasn't a party anymore; I had no interests besides Meth. I didn't feel anything anymore, no joy, no pain, no desire, no shame; I wanted nothing more than to stay high 24/7.
On a Hot summer day in August, in a supermarket parking lot in La Habra, I was processing materials for cooking Meth in my motor home, when the woman I was working with (my assistant) began arguing and started screaming; she was way too high on Meth. Before I could pack up and leave, the police arrived, and finally rescued me from myself. I pled guilty to manufacturing Meth and I was sentenced to 3 years state prison.
I could dedicate a few chapters of a book to my experiences in prison but I will try to sum up the experience briefly. My antisocial behavior, and continued drug use, during my first four months of incarceration in the county jail, caused numerous bruises and broken bones (for myself and others). I was instructed by more experienced inmates, that this kind of behavior would not be tolerated in state prison, and would likely get me killed. Fear is a great motivator, I stopped using drugs in prison, and eventually I adapted, as best I could, to my new environment. Strength is respected in prison; I began seriously training my body for the first time in my life. I consumed mass amounts of nutritious food and I gained 77 pounds in about six months; I was soon a bit over weight. I was reading three to five hours each day; I began studying about nutrition and physical training methods. I applied what I learned in an effort to increase my physical strength. I began to experience unexpected effects from eating a nutritious diet, and intense physical training; I was sleeping better, my metabolism increased and my mental and emotional health improved considerably. I matured emotionally and physically more in those first two years in prison than I had the last fifteen years.
When I was released on parole I had only the cloths on my back; every thing that I had owned had been seized by the state. I wanted to work, and get my own place as soon as possible. (I absolutely hated living so closely with other men). I got a good job in construction, and I was soon in my own place. I worked hard and in 6 months was promoted into a management position. One day a "friend" offered me some Meth, I accepted without a thought as to where it would lead; I was soon back in prison for violating parole, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. The next time I got out, I was only out about a month before I was arrested again for driving under the influence of Meth; I was facing another long stretch inside. I have heard it said, "You hit your bottom when you finally decide to stop digging"; that was the day I put down my shovel. The last time I was released from prison, I surrendered; I had wanted to stop using many times in my life, but this time I wanted to stop more than anything; I became willing to do anything that it took to turn my life around. I went directly into a rehabilitation program. I learned about myself, my addiction, and the twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.
I'm well into my sixth year without a drink, a drug, or a cigarette. Today I am inspired to live my life by a different set of values and principles; sometimes it's as simple as the difference between having to do something and getting to do it. Today, I get to go to work, and do the best job that I can, I get to pay my bills, and on time, I get to workout 6 days a week; and to eat a healthy diet, I get to be a good son, brother, father and friend. And I get to be in a committed relationship with a wonderful woman named Laurie who has taught me how to love again. All these things I get to do," one day at a time".
I always thought that if I stopped partying my life would become boring; my life today is anything but boring. I still love going to concerts. In the summer I like to ride my bicycle at the beach. Some of my favorite travel destinations include Colorado, Laughlin, Las Vegas, and Mexico. My passion is the natural rush of adrenalin I get from my Suzuki GSXR 750 Sport bike; every other weekend I head out for Angeles Crest, Ortega Highway or some other twisty road, and I open up the throttle (nothing can compare).
Recently, I have made contact with some of my friends from high school. People who I thought I would never hear from again. I have had the extreme pleasure of being reunited with my best friend from high school Scott Hanson; we are planning to ride together soon. Throughout my life it has been my ambition to be rich; I am rich today, not financially, but rich in character, and experience. The treasures I value today are: freedom and happiness, laughter, and joy and the greatest treasure of all, is the unfailing love of my family and friends.
I have tried to think of an end to this story; but so far, this story has no end, my adventures will continue. I thank God each and every day, for the blessings he has bestowed upon me, and for the people he has put in my life. I look to my future with eager anticipation for what is to come…
Jeff Fallon
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