The Forging of a Friendship A Journey of Two Men |
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| During the almost two years of forced labor which went into the building of this prison, we men, the prisoners, worked together, sweat together, slept together, ate together. The inexorable reason for such proximity - we were chained together. Such propinquity builds one of two things in the hearts and minds of such men as we, either hatred or commonality. Hatred was the first inclination, but without solution; therefore, it soon became dormant, and was eventually laid to rest by the passage of time. In using the term commonality I speak not of race or mutual desire to be free, although that obviously existed. I speak of the common unquenchable desire to understand why of all humans on God's green earth was it this group of men that had been brought together in such a way to accomplish whatever it was that we as a whole were endeavoring to accomplish? Surely not for the building of such a place as this, which would undoubtedly accommodate more of the same as ourselves; but then, why? |
| Excerpt from Chapter Two |
| Excerpt from Chapter 11: Forgiveness...found in a quagmire of despair |
| Morning came before the sun for Jonas Brighton. I awoke to the sound of his feeding fresh firewood to the almost dormant campfire. I chose not to stir form my bedroll. Instead I lay quietly, observing a man very adept at life on the trail and used to being alone. As I watched his milling around, first feeding the fire and then lazily putting together a pot of coffee, I observed him to be in an almost static state of indifference to his labors, as one deep in thought. While he finished putting the pot of coffee on the fire to boil he singed the hair on the top of his hand in the process and, without rancor or any discomfort, simply ignored the heat and continued to ponder whatever thoughts were moving him further and further from the reality of his actions. He sat on his saddle as he gazed into the fire and awaited the pot to boil without once turning, as if he were seeking an answer. An answer to what I could not imagine, but being a basically curious type I decided to, without great spectacle, sit up and quietly move to the edge of the fire myself. I moved softly not wanting to disturb his meditation, if that was indeed what it was. As I drew up to the fire and knelt on my knees, sitting back on my heels, I got a closer look at his face and then saw the small tears that had welled up in his eyes. |
| ISBN: 978-1-4512-2092-6 |
| May something 1976, having been convicted of manslaughter in the second degree and sentence pronounced for said act: I, Jacob Lamar Lancaster, hereafter known as J.L., was sent in chains to serve a term of not more than 25 years, not less that 10 years to the Yuma Territorial Prison in Yuma, Territory of Arizona. The place of sentencing: Benson, Arizona. The crime: shooting another drunken cowboy. The reason: who knows? It was a time in this waste of a country that a man didn't know from one day to the next often just what or why he was. And thus begins the story of two men whose lives were destined by God to come together in a procession of friendship, scholarship, and salvation. Along the way many twists and turns take both men on journeys neither one would have ever thought possible, except that God so ordained such adventure. |
| Mounting the Ride A cowboy rides to the top of a hill On a mount he knows has crust I myself have done the same On a mount named Trust This cowboy, aware of the perilous dangers, pays heed His faith ever present On his sure-footed steed While I upon my faithful ride, Trust Know the very same danger and of my need So I mount upon wings of eagles As it is God I trust By D.G. Isch |