From Middle Class to Prison at Last

From the beginning you would think my life was all sunshine and roses, but what you do not know can and will hurt you. You think the whoopings are discipline but in the end realize it was abuse and the beginning of a cycle. All the possessions that made you happy were just a way of making me complacent and quiet, and the alcohol that made everything look like a good time that was actually creating a divide in relationships. So, let's get started...

Who I Became

All of the above and more made me who I was: a violent, angry and aggressive person that only thought he cared about his family and possessions. This man was made to become a monster that terrified people and communities. This man was made to be a protector and enforcer of my law and values. This man I speak of, who is no longer the same man, is Jeffrey Slowinski.

The Foundations of a Hardened Life

From the start, witnessing all the physical, emotional and substance abuse started to form who I wanted to become, like my father and uncle. Not to say I did not have positive people in my life that lived a normal, civilized life, but I chased the unnormal, reckless life that was portrayed as fun. From there you see I did not mention my uncle yet, whom I was introduced to at the age of five, but he had a big influence on the way I shaped up in the end. He was an alcoholic, womanizer that instilled in me a different kind of mindset, not from viewing but from teaching. He was a bar owner who was my role model and instilled a violent side of family annihilation, “If you can't get him you go after what they love.” And down the line I made my own mantra, “Hurt the loved ones so your target knows they are the reason for the hurt.” But all of my journey I was able to keep a façade of me being a good person due to the fact I thought I could hide what I was doing and to whom I was doing it to. You did something wrong; I would whoop you like I got when I was growing up. Wanted to have fun, get drunk and high like I used to see; keep people and girls happy, buy them stuff and pamper them.

Downward Spiral

So now that you see why I was the way I was, now the story of Jeff can start. The story starts in the teenage years of getting into minor trouble in school and the beginning of smoking weed and drinking. The happiness, so I thought, started—not feeling the pain, not being sad and depressed, and also the multitude of “so called” friends around me for what I have, not who I am. Then started the I want nice things and want to earn them on my own. So, I started selling coke, by the way I was doing it too. I was functioning, holding down my responsibilities and fooling others and myself to think I was fine. Now that I look at it, I think others like my parents seen it but were in denial that their sone did not have a problem.

Wake-Up Calls Ignored

So, with the drugs comes the violence, the sex, the abuse and the excuses. I had a nice little crew; we had our own riches. Then you would think my first wake-up call at 18 would sink in—I got arrested. Now this is when life changed. My mom and uncle are the ones that were there for me. My father thought that it would be easier to not deal with me than be there supportively. Here is where my resentment and bitterness about my father formed another learned action. I'd seen it in my household, “It's easier to ignore than to deal with it.”

With all of this, you think I would have woken up or learned my lesson, NO! Still doing the same thing and getting the same results. Somehow only one DUI in my run ins with police, many reckless and speeding tickets but only one DUI. Man, I thought I was good! The problem was at the time I did not know they wanted me for more and was not willing to waste their time on simple things. The signs were there, got pulled over at the state line and tore apart my car and took speakers out of boxes, spare tire out, etc. I thought I was good and lucky but that was not the truth as we see now.

The next wake-up call should have been when one of my crew got set up and executed at his bar, put in the back of his own pickup truck for almost a week until an old lady smelled the body. But no. I saw that as an opportunity for more violence and chaos with this new, found purpose of terrifying the people around me, giving me drive and ambition to be the best at what I was doing.

The Crime and the Sentence

Now we step to 2008, the terrible reality: I am a monster. All the values and beliefs I was brought up with come out. I brutally terrorize someone who did not deserve it to hurt their husband. I did not get caught for months, but the whole time I was free I heard about this crime. How could someone do this, how is this possible in our community—and the whole time I was proud this was me and I was still free.

July 24, 2008! Don't Move! Now the dream was over. Cuffed up, locked up. Never to see the streets again. 99 YEARS is what that judge told me, never steal a tear, family sitting in the court room in disbelief: mom, dad and uncle. The same unit that helped form me, never to be seen again.

Prison and the Continuation of Pain

Now in county I affiliate myself with gangs. Companionship, sense of family now my real family is at a distance away. So now I'm in an environment where I can thrive; knives, violence and nowhere to run from it. Prison Time. Walk in the door of Menard's Chapel to see a lieutenant and my first words to him when he asked about the sissy color of my sleeve was, “They're my colors bitch!” This is how much I gave up. No Fear. No repercussion. No consequences. The same cycle: violence, substance abuse and vices. Seg. Investigations. Turmoil. That's what my life was now about.

A New Beginning

July 5, 2003, wake up time. I transferred to Illinois River C.C., walked through the door, new start of my new life. Big Red, as I was known, is now dead and gone. I am now Jeff. I still have anger problems but try to control them but do not know what they stem from yet. Meet new people, expand my horizons, doing good now, not setbacks, and then I met my mentor and friend Tony Dameron. Right from the start we're cool and get along, unknown we have some of the same issues. We grew and bonded, got to know one another, and then an opportunity for growth comes, the T.R.I.P. Program and guess who is heading and building it, my Cellie. After some coercion and conversation, I decided to come and give it a try.

Who I Am Today

Now as I sit here writing this story, I am a mentor in the T.R.I.P. Program (The Resident Investment Project). I am overcoming my past and learning how to deal with the hurt. I am building my toolbox to keep me on the straight line I need to go. I understand a lot. Who I built myself up as is who I was, but not the new me now. I am learning what it is like to be in a positive community and grow with men that have the same issues and pasts as me. I now know the value of life and the purpose behind it.

I now live a new lifestyle: hope, purpose, growth and accountability. I now know I am not a monster that I thought I was. I am not my nickname “Big Red.” I am not my past and my worst mistake. I AM JEFF and I am worth something. As I sit here closing this story with this I.D. badge on me, I am reminded that no matter what happens from here on out, I am doing my best to lead a purposeful life to help build and improve my community whether in here or out in the world.

Oh yeah, by the way, I also learned when I thought I was a monster, I actually had good things going on too, just never realized it: a family that loved me, real friends that look after my mom to this day. Just to put a cherry on top, I am college educated. So, in the end M02930 is not me...