Looking at a life sentence in prison

[Jim @ Jawa]

John Powell and my 357.

John Powell is the biological father of Michael Powell. Michael was my stepson and I helped raise him from age 3. When I married Michael’s mother Sandra, she was my second wife. I married Sandra shortly after the birth of our daughter.

John and his parents flew up to Alaska from Montana for a visit with Michael. Michael was about nine or ten years old at that time, and John was an ordained minister in Montana. I was packing my Ruger Blackhawk 357 Magnum all the time in a holster unconcealed which made it legal.

The background information I got from Sandy and from Michael's medical records. When Michael was nine months old John and Sandy were still married. Sandy was working and John was not. John was left to babysit Michael while Sandy was at work. Sandy got a call from the hospital saying that Michael was there and she needed to get to the hospital immediately.

When she got there, the doctors informed her that Michael had an accident in which he fell down the stairs according to John's police report about the accident. Michael had a hematoma that required immediate brain surgery. Her choices were to do nothing and Michael would be dead within a few hours. With surgery, he would have a 40% chance of surviving the surgery. If she chose surgery and he did survive, he would be a bed ridden invalid for the rest of his life. She chose surgery and he survived.

I became involved with Michael shortly after his second brain surgery in which they had implanted a screen that would keep his brain from bulging out through the large hole that the life-saving surgery had left.

I reenlisted for six years to make sure that the military payed for Michaels third brain surgery in which they removed the screen and then put in a plastic plate. That surgery was predicted to take six hours, but it actually took ten. We were told when he became about 20 years of age then he would require a fourth surgery to replace the plastic plate with a larger plastic plate. But the last surgery was for cosmetic purposes and it was decided to leave that plastic plate that he already had in place. The deformity on the right side of his skull was less important than the trauma of going through the fourth surgery.

Michael is now in the surgical ICU. Michael's blood pressure was now 40/0 and nobody could figure out why he was still alive. The medical staff was running everywhere hanging pints of blood that was being pumped into him to try to bring his blood pressure up. Sandy and I were there next to his bed, I said a little silent prayer to myself. “GOD, if you would be so kind as to save this little guy's life, I will kill the son of a bitch that did this to him.”

Back to the visit by the Powell family.

I invited John for a ride in my F250 Ford and he got in. I took him to a deserted subdivision in Wasilla and parked. As usual, my 357 was holstered on my hip. Now, you've got to remember John is now an ordained minister preaching at a church in Montana.

I told John about my prayer next to Michael's hospital bed. How I had promised God that I would kill his ass if I got the chance.

John and I both came to the realization that that chance had just arrived. I told John that I wanted to know what really happened to Michael the day he tried to kill him. He did not or could not say anything. He did however keep a close eye on my right hand and that 357 on my hip. I also was well aware that if I killed this fucker, I would more than likely be in jail for the rest of my life. I chose not to do a life sentence for John and the State of Alaska. That would make me another victim of John.

John and both of his parents were staying at the Wasilla Motel with reservations for the rest of the week. The next morning by 10 o'clock, they had not returned so I drove the less than 1 mile to the motel to figure out if they were coming or not. I was told by the manager that they had checked out late the day before. They told the manager that they had changed their plans and were going to the Anchorage airport to fly back to Montana.

I never had any more communications with John or his parents after that. I have often wondered if he ever had the balls to tell any of his congregation about how he tried to kill nine month old Michael and got away with it. He got away with it by trading Sandy an uncontested divorce in exchange for her not pressing charges. John evidently had a good lawyer and Sandy had no lawyer at all.

Many years later, Michael is in his 40s sporting dark curly hair, a full beard and as far as I know he's still living alone. He graduated high school and had some vocational training.

Sandy and I met with three social workers to discuss how we thought Michael's life was gonna work out. When it was my turn to talk I told them that they needed to take a good look at him. He had grown up into a man and they had to quit treating him like a child and start talking to him and treating him like he was, a man.

Michael has always been a very good artist and I hope it developed into something financially fulfilling for him.

So much for the doctor's diagnosis that he was going to be a bedridden invalid the rest of his life. Just goes to show you doctors don't know everything and they surely are not very good at predicting the future of their advices or procedures.