Ep 5 | Gene McGuire | The Glenn Beck Podcast

We are living in a more chaotic and confusing time than ever before.

The lines between right and wrong and good and evil, men and women, are so blurred, sometimes I don't even know which way is up.

It's not a new concept that things aren't black and white.

We know there's always been a gray area and they'll continue to be gray areas.

But we really have to start being more careful when we're claiming to know empirical facts or empirical truths because there's so much information that you'd have to know and sort through to be that confident that you're right.

Today's podcast is really interesting.

Today, I'm going to introduce you to a man who was convicted of murder that he didn't commit.

Now, was he perfect?

No, but he didn't commit the crime that he was sentenced to life for.

His name is Gene Maguire.

He finally got out early, but I have to tell you, he had every reason to be angry and hold a grudge, but something happened to him along the way that changed his life for the better.

We talk about the mistakes that were made that nearly ruined Gene's life and the way that he was able to find forgiveness and use his life and story into ways of encouraging others.

I don't remember what the occasion was, but I was having dinner with some friends.

And

one of them said, oh, you have to meet.

Have you met Gene?

And I said, no.

Oh, you have to meet him.

And they told me your story.

And I said, can you call him?

Can he come to dinner?

And you came to dinner.

And

your story is one of

the, it's the best horrible yet unbelievably positive stories I have ever heard.

Wow.

Tell me, Gene.

1977.

How old were you?

17.

Sophomore in high school.

Finishing up the year.

Pretty good athlete, football track.

Girlfriend?

Not at the time.

And

went out drinking.

one night with an older cousin.

He was 24 and went out the door against my mother's wishes pretty much, but we sweet-talked her.

And about 11.30 at night, had no business being out that late.

Were you, did you know your

cousin was kind of a bad guy?

Dual,

he had been in prison before.

He had been out, but one of the things I had great respect for him was because he treated my mother so well.

And since my mother went through some hard relationships, my cousin always came to the rescue.

So I had a fond respect, I had a great respect for a man who treated my mother well.

So he's behind the wheel of the car?

A stepbrother, an older stepbrother, drove us.

We left, the three of us left the kitchen table, drinking,

playing cards, went and shot some pool.

My cousin wanted to shoot some pool, so we went to a local tavern and 20 minutes or so into shooting pool, drinking shots, he turns and says, I'm going to rob this place, to our surprise.

And he was serious.

and so did you know he was serious yeah i think i i believe i did and the idea was look we were not going to do it if you're going to do it we'll leave so the plan was to leave the bar in the car drive down the street park let him come back and we'll wait for you so you were a getaway car yeah and you so we we knew he was gonna

we knew we was he was gonna rob the bar yeah and so we um he walked back up it to the bar and by the time i got out the car and i stood in a parking lot somewhere near the, and he didn't come out right away.

And we heard some banging.

We walked up to the bar and he had murdered the owner.

He had stabbed the owner to death using bottles.

Oh my gosh.

And he just went crazy.

So we yelled to him to stop.

I did.

And my stepbrother and I, we hung around a little bit.

He said, come in, help find some money.

We walked in, and about 10 minutes, he found a box, found about $1,000 of cash and took it.

And my stepbrother left.

He left and went home.

I left with my cousin, went to New York City.

I knew

I was in trouble.

The significance, the weight of it, it didn't hit me until I sobered up.

When you saw a dead man.

A woman.

Dead woman.

Yeah.

It was the owner of the bar.

What went through your head?

Well,

intimidated, scared, caught up in that with my cousin.

And it was dark.

It was behind a counter.

Any thought of, we have to call the police?

No,

I was too into it as far as

I'm following him.

I'm part of that.

I'm following him.

I love my cousin a lot.

I just had a I had a

I had a respect for him and I had a sort of like a

as a hero type,

sadly, dysfunctionally.

How did how does I mean I'm trying to get into your frame of mind here?

On

were you a bad kid?

No, I wasn't.

I was high school.

I wasn't a good student, but I was a good athlete.

I was in school all the time.

Not something you would, I mean, you wouldn't have thought about beating anybody up or no.

I mean, I had some school fights and stuff like that, but

you weren't a juvenile thug.

No, okay.

i grew up on a dairy farm and worked on a dairy farm and and uh my cousin came came for that weekend um from new jersey and i lived in northeast pennsylvania so he came and so how much how much shock

were you

in because this seems like if this if i and maybe i react exactly the same way

where I walk in and I'm like, oh, hey, I'm not going to call the police, but

I mean, I think you'd just be in shock.

You didn't expect, you didn't expect

that.

I never would have thought that.

Cousin would have been.

It never crossed my mind that it would have gone this far.

When I went to the bar to shoot pool with him, I thought it was cool.

It was a timeout.

You know, it was like getting outside the house.

It was fun, and it just snowballed from there.

And no inkling beforehand that he wanted to even rob the place.

No.

Okay.

Not at all.

So how you go to New York City?

Go to New York City, walk in the streets.

He said he had a plan to get away.

He said he had a plan to get away, do something.

And I was just kind of following.

I was just in a following mode, really.

If I can just put you in my mindset, I was just following him.

And

it wasn't good, but that's what the choice I made.

So walking the streets, he was shooting heroin.

He used the money to buy dope.

And I found myself in shooting galleries up in Spanish Harlem and looking around and people laying around and

what you'd see

in the movies.

I was right there.

It was just overwhelming.

Walking the streets, no clue what was going on,

slept overnight in a hotel.

It's 1977.

There's no cell phones.

There's nothing.

It's a different world.

Yeah.

It's still a still world of people listening to music on AM radio.

Yeah.

And so

the next day,

notified my parents that I was turning myself in.

And my cousin said, you can run with me or you can turn yourself in.

And

I knew I wanted to go home.

I knew that wasn't for me.

I mean, I sobered up.

I realized that I was in severe, you know, serious trouble.

Not

I had no idea what face, what I was facing, but you were willing to face it.

Yeah, so I came back.

What'd your mother say?

The first thing, the first first thing, so I took a bus back.

They put me on a bus.

The police put me on a bus.

They turned myself up.

So you turn yourself up in New York?

Yes, in the Port Authority.

And they came and they said, are you, Gene Maguire?

I said, yeah, you turn yourself in, yes.

They were looking for my cousin.

My cousin continued to run.

So I get on a bus and...

Did you know where he was or where he was?

No, he just took off.

And he

so I'm on a bus and I get back and the police come on a bus with my mother.

And my mother just, the first thing she says tell the truth eugene tell the truth she was distraught she she looked uh oh my goodness uh her her face was distraught and just lost

i can still see that in your eyes the pain yeah

so uh we get i was i was uh arrested formally and taken to the

Tunkanock, Pennsylvania State Police Barracks and gave a statement there.

And for some reason,

I was talking about this the other day to some people.

I said,

I really thought, tell the truth and go home.

But that didn't happen.

You know, my mother was there.

Did your mom think that?

I don't know.

I think she was just in shock

with every detail that I told of

what would happen.

I think she was further informed.

But there were no details you did not know.

You

didn't even know why you were in the bar.

You and your stepbrother did say, okay, we'll meet you after you robbed the place.

Yeah.

Was there any other detail that incriminated you in any way other than

knowing, well, the felony homicide, knowing that there was a felony going on?

during a homicide or a homicide happened during a felony.

And you knew about the felony.

I knew about the felony, which was the robbery.

Yeah.

Okay.

So you go in and you tell the truth to the police.

And they say, stand up.

You're under arrest for the murder of Isabel Nagy.

And it's just like,

what went through your mind?

I think immediately

the weight of it,

also the embarrassment.

I didn't know the victim in any personal way.

I had been to her bar before and drank.

As a 17-year-old, I've been able to go in there.

So I just

superficially just hide and buy.

But my mother,

the embarrassment, family.

And then just trying to comprehend what every step was after they said stand up, cuff me, and start

booking me and fingerprinting me.

Just was taking one step at a time.

And knowing I wasn't going home, and

I heard the police talking, the state police talking about taking me to the juvenile center, detention.

Tell me a little bit about her first before we move on.

The victim.

Victim, 60-year-old, single.

Woman, no children, and she owned a bar.

It was called the Marine Room Inn at the time, Lake Winola, Pennsylvania.

That's about all I know.

I know a sister.

She had a sister, and she has some nephews.

They were

jumping ahead.

They were in my hearing when I was released.

And there's a story behind that, too, that I found out when I was released.

When you said her name a few minutes ago,

your eyes welled up and

they got very red again

is there a day you

you don't think of her or do you I mean what it's been decades now yeah it's really

not left you no absolutely not

absolutely not

so they book you they fingerprint you

Then what happens?

Transport me about

a 30-minute ride to juvenile detention in Lucerne County.

Never even heard of it.

I never didn't know where I was going.

So all of that.

Maybe just a few days before, you're thinking about sports at school.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Working out,

training.

What were you going to do for life?

What were you,

what path did you at that time think you were going to do?

There was a couple of things.

I liked welding.

I took some shops welding, something like that.

But I also had thought about going to Marines.

There was a good friend of mine, Rob Mancuso, and we were talking about that

throughout our sophomore year, about the possibility of going into Marines.

So now you're on the bus, and

at that point, what do you think your life is going to be?

When you're on the bus.

And you're being transferred to juvenile.

You haven't,

what are you thinking, this is going to be bad, but i'm still going to have my life

well

um yeah i i think i meant personally i think i shut down and just i was i just aware of i was in a car this trooper car okay so i was just kind of being aware of the moment i didn't want to think about what i was going to face in juvenile center

i heard my cousin i heard my cousin talk about stories about prison and rapes and violence and stabbings and stuff when he was in there, some of the stories he had told me.

So I had no idea, but I was trying not to think, honestly, think about it.

But I remember just looking at the driver, the screen that separated us, looking down at the cuffs and the belt I was wearing just for that moment.

I didn't want to

think ahead.

You get to the prison or the juvenile dissension, detention.

It was about 12.30 at night.

I had been in the police station for about six to eight hours.

And then they took me to the

knock on the door, metal door.

They open it up.

And, of course, it's night.

And there's only the officer inside dressed in plain clothes, big set of keys.

And I noticed that, and he brought us in, and they set me down, and then they took the shackles off me.

took the cuffs off me and they shook my hand and they left and he proceeded to

take me in and process me,

shower,

search, all that, give me some clothes, put me in a cell.

How long were you living there?

I spent nine months.

And that's during your trial?

During the hearing.

The hearing.

Yeah.

Because there was no trial, was there?

There was no trial.

Tell me

you have an attorney.

They gave me a public defender.

Uh-huh.

Because you were poor.

Yeah, it was.

Yeah.

Yeah.

And what does he say?

When you're first, are you thinking, I'm going to have some hope here when he comes in?

Yeah.

Yeah, no, I really did.

And he was a nice guy.

He was a young guy, good-looking guy.

And

I remember him sympathizing somewhat with me about drinking.

He says, I know what it's like to have some drinks and you get drunk and

being young.

And, you know, so, but then we go through the story and all that.

And then I think about

four,

maybe five visits four or five visits with him over the period of time within

90 days he gives me a recommendation to the best

to plead guilty your best thing is to plead guilty to murder open charge of murder it would not rise higher than second degree

but everything else second third degree and manslaughter would be open and that you could be out in 10 years.

I couldn't even comprehend two years, but I still remember the conversation.

Plead guilty, testify against your cousin, and

then let the judge set the degree of guilt.

What was juvenile detention like?

Was it as bad as what your cousin did?

No,

no, it was

only 15 cells,

or 15 rooms, cells.

And most of the inmates were in there were for really petty stuff.

But I remember when I came in,

there was probably six to eight guys in there.

And you get up in the morning and you make your bed and all that, and you go eat and come back.

And there's not a lot to do, a little day room.

And someone asked me what I was in there for, and I said, I was in for murder.

Well, about an hour later, the staff, they called me in the room and said,

we're going to lock you up because you told somebody that you were in for murder, and we can't let them.

these young juveniles or these other people know that we have a person for homicide.

So they were like really protective of me letting them know.

So

I'm locked up for 10 days until they finally said, okay, we'll give you another chance.

Don't tell anybody right here.

You tell them that you stole a bike, that

you, whatever.

All right.

So

you go into the

hearing.

We go to the hearing.

And you're going to do what your mother said.

I plead guilty, enter a plea guilt.

Your mother in the courtroom?

Mother's in the courtroom, sister

what do you remember about that um that particular moment i don't remember a whole lot okay

so you you have to stand up and you have to say guilty or does your attorney do that uh my attorney does it okay and and that's one of the things that i i do remember it was i was numb through it and um not knowing exactly what to say or do so he did a lot of the yeah yeah

judge says okay okay

and then does the sentence come right away no

some six months go by

and uh so I entered it was three months after my arrest I entered plead guilt six months later I go the day before my 18th birthday and you are you've testified against your testified against my cousin during his here we had separate hearings

and you've done everything that the state he played guilty he he yeah he plead guilty he said it was his idea that I had very little the other guy had little

so

I go in and

it was March 8th, 1978, and I'm stood there

and they read off the charge.

Again, very embarrassing.

I mean, painful knowing that a life was taken.

For family there?

Yeah.

Not for me.

My cousin.

I think most of the attention was on Bobby.

Yeah.

Not not mine, that I know of.

Yeah.

But aware of

the community and all that.

So

I plead guilty and then I sit down, some more conversation between the DA and all this.

I stand up and the judge sentenced me to life without the possibility of pearl, my natural life.

Still thinking 10 years,

which really wasn't the case.

when he said life

you you were you did it set in then or were you thinking no that there's gonna be a way to get out no no it didn't set in i i thought i'm still on track i'm gonna do what i have to do uh whatever it requires to to come out to

when did it hit you um i go to the state correctional institution the next day 18th birthday i come into camp hill pennsylvania and i remember walking in and you're no longer longer a juvenile.

You're in

an adult

prison.

I'm in an adult facility going from 15 cells to 2,600 or so.

How terrified was that?

It wasn't gripping terrifying, but it's scary and you're intimidated.

And so right away, I put on, you know, I'm going to put on this facade.

I'm a tough guy.

I'm not scared, you know.

I keep my head up.

And so you go through the process.

The early process

is quite easy.

You're under watch and guard.

You're going through medical exams.

You're under key a lot your first 30 days evaluation.

So

your problems come afterwards once you get into population.

But I remember meeting some guys right away.

They say, hey, young buck, how much time are you doing?

And I'm like,

I'm doing life.

No, I said I'm doing 10 years.

And they're like, no, you're not.

I said, you're doing life like us.

You could die.

I said, no, see, you're on the list, lifers list.

Then they had a list

of guys doing life.

And they said,

you could die in here like the rest of us.

You're not getting out.

And so that I was like, mm.

So I started asking questions and I got back on the phone.

I went to the law clinic.

You know, the prison has a law clinic with volunteers to help out.

And I started talking to them.

And they said

you have a life sentence without parole.

You'd have to the only way you could change that is to appeal your case so

you want to call your attorney and ask him to appeal your case didn't your attorney say something when he said you know it'd be 10 years when he's when the judge said life no parole the attorney knew what that meant did he not say dude i am really sorry boy i miscalculated here

nothing no no he didn't say anything there was no there was never any conversation that um other than um i remember during i remember it was i felt bad about this, but during, right after they sentenced me, he gave a statement, and I think it's in my transcripts, but he said, yes, Judge, there's a life, there was a life taken.

It was a heinous crime.

It was staff, but there's a life here that was wasted.

And I kind of felt uncomfortable, even at 17, that you, you know, I saw my life.

Yeah, I was going to prison, but I remember him,

that was his kind of close.

I remember that comment.

And you were embarrassed because you're still alive.

Yeah.

Yeah.

So you go back to talk to the attorney.

Yeah.

And within about 15 minutes on the phone, he gives me every reason why not to.

He said I could receive first degree.

He said I'd get more time.

And with all that conversation going on, totally ignorant, really.

I was intimidated and 15 minutes, hung up the phone, and I walked out that law clinic and went back to my cell.

And I just said, well, I'll do my time.

In my mind, I said, I'll do my time, whatever it takes.

Also, I heard that there's an other avenue for life sentence inmates in Pennsylvania.

It's through the commutation board, through the governor, the board of pardons, and it's a commutation process.

So I set my heart on that.

I began to look toward that.

That's the only other avenue other than dying.

You're going to be a model prisoner there.

I'm going to do what I have to do.

I wanted to get a job.

I wanted to get a GED.

I wanted to get my high school diploma and then also get some.

I wanted to talk to somebody, you know, say

try to figure out how a 17-year-old

ends up doing life without Pearl.

And so that was kind of my

initial

goal setting when I went into prison.

You know, when you first told the story to me,

and I know this is true,

that you have had,

you know, you've been forgiven.

And

do you?

Yes, yes, yes.

You know you've been forgiven, and

but yet you're

this telling with me.

I'm seeing deep wounds in you still.

Well, it's painful to realize that I'm alive,

and the only thing I can do is live my life serving others

in that place.

So you're in,

you're now saying, okay, well, I'm going to hope for something else.

How bad does prison become for you?

Initially, um, the fights.

I had a guy walk up to me and blow some kisses at me early on, and uh it turned into a big fight and uh resulted in going to the whole

uh solitary

and uh kind of dealing with all that and getting out and then being confronted with those guys again and them shaking my hand and saying, You're a cool white boy.

You'll never have any problems with us again.

Because I was willing to fight.

So, after that,

just a struggle of

being isolated, you know,

in the prison system from society.

It is

the whole.

What is isolation?

What is solitary confinement like?

You're left in a locked cell,

not seeing anybody, but you're locked in a cell 23 hours a day, 24 hours a day.

You're out for a shower.

You're fed inside the cell.

Nobody talks to you.

You can yell to other inmates, but you can't really see.

You don't see them.

You're not face to face.

The cells are back to back.

But you're alone with your thoughts, your thought process.

Which has to be

hell.

Yeah.

And if

you don't have a good

thought process, which I didn't when I first started, It is

hellish.

It's draining.

Did you grow up religious?

Catholic school early on.

First.

So you didn't have a...

No,

first, second grade, went to church.

Parents divorced.

And

my mother moved us away.

And church.

So for me, growing up was church.

And then in a bar with my folks,

folks, and some change and jukebox to shuffle board, and then church, and then back to the bar.

So religion, faith, religion, I would say religion, and life didn't add up.

It wasn't together.

When did you,

when did you start saying,

okay, if there is a God, I need a God.

Right now, I need God.

I was about,

oh,

there was a couple occasions

when I was 21 years old, I had already dove into some meth in the prison system.

In prison, yeah.

You're doing meth.

Yeah.

So I met up a couple of guys that had drug businesses on the outside.

They were doing life like me and some doing a lot of time like me.

And they just, they had access to meth, prescription medications.

How do you do that?

How does that, I mean...

You get it into the prisons through visits.

and work release or work guys, guys go outside the fence and work and you can bring it in.

There was very little security at the time as far as

there weren't drug dogs, there weren't urinalysis weekly as there are now.

Yeah, it was

1980.

Yeah.

So

involved in the meth, involved in some Coke.

And I remember doing meth one night and I had gotten a letter from a Christian girl.

And she,

it was like a 10-page letter from back, and it had a lot of scripture in there.

And I remember this scripture said, if you

believe in your heart that Jesus died and you confess with your mouth, you'll be saved.

And I remember reading it over and over and over and again.

And I just remember getting on my knees and I, it was 20, 21, and I just said, God, I'm sorry for participating in a homicide.

I'm sorry for the pain of Isabel and Aggie.

And I remember saying her name, Mary, just asking her to forgive me, asking God to forgive me.

Crying, crying, crying, crying.

Is this the first time that you this is the first time that I ever even opened my mouth to say anything

to Jesus, to God?

I had no clue.

I had a Bible.

I read it

once every six months I'd read it.

There was a couple of verses I liked.

It was poetic poetry.

And I remember...

It was about three, four in the morning, and I was speed.

I was wide awake.

And I remember looking in the mirror after that incident.

I got off my knees and I felt like I got saved.

I felt like

some weight came off you.

Yeah, I really did.

Something happened.

And I remember looking in the mirror, looking in this little 5x7 plastic mirror they give us.

And my eyes were different.

My eyes weren't like little pin dots from speeding, from the meth.

And I remember, man, I just got saved.

So I wrote her.

I said, hey,

I I just accepted the Lord.

And I said, I feel wonderful.

Well, by the morning, my buddies come and we start getting high again.

And from that point on, I just never followed the Lord.

I never went to church, never heard a word.

But for another couple years,

I had a respect for the Lord.

I mean, I had a respect when I heard the name Jesus being used.

Because of that moment

where you felt.

I think so.

I think God

did something in my heart that day.

I wasn't living for him.

I was still getting high.

But I remember seeing a guy with a cross upside down.

And I told him, I said, turn it around or I'll rip it off you.

I just, I said, it's wrong.

I said, don't.

And, of course, you know, but that was

my attention.

Yeah, that was evangelized.

As you be a good Christian.

I'll rip it off your neck.

And in 86, 1986, I was 26.

I had been asking some of the staff members.

I had a nice job.

I was an institutional mail carrier.

So I was in the offices exchanging mail.

And I was going in, and these couple of ladies in the medical department, I liked going in there, talking to them.

It was a real peaceful place.

I'd go and sit down and we just talked.

And I told them, I said, you know, I said,

I told them I have an alcohol problem.

I've been drinking, I've been making my own, which is true, but I didn't tell them I was doing math or putting a needle in my arm and shooting math to that point.

So they said, hey, there's, did you hear about the prison invasion program revival going on this weekend at the church?

And I'm like, no.

I heard that from my meth dealer.

So they said, you need to go.

You need to sign up and go.

So I signed up and I went on Friday night reluctantly, but I kind of, it was intimidating because church, you know.

Yeah.

So, but I went.

I'm a recovering alcoholic.

I haven't put a needle in my arm.

But you don't.

There's something about

feeling like I don't belong here with these people.

Yeah.

Yeah.

And

so I walk in, and

there was a hundred men.

It was very organized.

There was a hundred men from the outside community had come into the prison.

They spent all day Friday morning walking around.

They had the tethers and the wristbands.

And they would just.

share something with you about the gospel, invite you over to the night service.

And so that happened for me.

Monday, there was a guy walking around saying, hey, I was an alcoholic and Jesus changed my heart.

Hey, I was an alcoholic.

Jesus changed my heart.

I don't drink no more.

And he seemed to follow me around the institution.

I was on the block, cell block.

He was there.

I went to the yard to work out.

He was there.

Intentionally.

Yeah,

so he was hunting me down.

So I went Friday night.

I walked into the chapel and there was music going on.

They had teen challenge testimonies.

They had worship.

And they had a gauntlet of men in line, and they were all shaking your hand, telling you, God loves you, we love you, we're glad you're here.

You go from a world that has got to be pretty hard,

where your Christian act is, I'll rip that off your neck,

you're shooting up drugs

into

that world.

Did it feel real to you?

Did it feel genuine?

Because you could, a jaded person would walk in and go, oh, you

please.

Yeah.

No, it felt real.

I didn't know anybody there.

I didn't know any of the inmates that were there.

And it was that type of, you know, I didn't, that wasn't my crew.

That wasn't my crowd.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

And I was really a fish out of water.

And I went in there, but I...

Men like yourself and like everybody else, they were just shaking my hand and welcome me.

So I walked in and I went and found a seat.

And

the music continued to sing, people worshiping, and then they sat down.

And

I remember the pastor got up, and all I remember that night, the pastor, he got up and he said, Jesus died for your sins and rose again, and he loves you, something like that, basically.

And everybody claps and roars.

And

he said, real men make commitments.

Real men make commitments.

And I sat there and I was like, man, why is he looking right at me?

Why is he like, and I was kind of like leaning behind the head.

But as he spoke and he shared,

I felt like, man,

he's talking to me.

I left that night without making the commitment.

I went back.

I struggled that night sleeping.

You know, I knew I wasn't right.

Yeah.

I wasn't right.

And I wasn't where I was supposed to be.

I went back Saturday night.

Again, Saturday morning, men were catching me on the walkway, in the yard.

Hey, do you know Jesus?

No,

Saturday, I walk in, same thing.

It's a hype in there.

There's music, loud music, worship, singing, testimonies, teen challenge, guys from teen challenge.

These kids were talking about shooting one another, drugs.

And I'm like, I can relate to some of that.

And how Jesus changed your life.

And then, again,

Jesus died, rose again for you, eternal life.

Real men make commitments.

And just, man,

I've never made a commitment in life.

I'd quit everything.

Everything that got tough, school, I quit.

I went back.

Some things I finished, some things I didn't.

Relationships.

So I'm sitting there at the end and I don't make a commitment, but now there's a time of mingling and fellowship, music playing, and people keep walking up to me and saying, hey, do you know Jesus?

I'm like, no.

They're like, hey, have you made a commitment tonight?

And I'm like, no.

So in a room of about 300 men, I was bouncing my eyes around.

So if I saw you looking at me, I would look away.

Don't come over here and ask me that.

I hear someone behind me.

How you doing tonight?

And I turn around and there's this guy from the outside.

And he says, have you made a commitment?

I was like,

I can't get away from it.

I said, no, but I know some Christians.

And he said, okay.

He said, wait right here.

So he turns like 30 seconds and gives me his card.

His name is Larry Titus.

He said, hey, my name's Larry Titus.

And if you need anything, give me a call.

And I was like, he said, yeah, you need some shoes, you need a Bible, you need some money.

Just give me a call.

And I'm like,

can I ask you a question?

He said, yeah.

I said, you're a Christian.

He said, yeah, I'm a Christian.

And he said, and I said, well, how long you've known Jesus?

He said, since I was four years old.

And I said, you've known Jesus since you were four.

He said, yeah, I knew God called me to be a missionary at five.

Wow.

And

I was like,

it made it made me

not in condemnation, but I knew I was a big zero.

I wasn't where I was supposed to be.

And so

he left, I left.

When you asked him that,

when you said, are you a Christian?

Was it because here's this stranger who just gave me a card and said, hey, I'll buy stuff for you if you need it?

Buy shoes?

Yeah, I was like, are you a Christian?

I didn't know what else to say.

And he just like, he said, you need a book, book, you need some shoes, you need some clothes, you know?

And

I really don't even know where that question came from.

So you are feeling like, you know, like

all of us feel when you meet somebody who's really, you know, seems to be all put together

and you're like, what have I done with my life?

Right.

And I'm thinking, this guy, and the truth is, there was the preceding months, I had been walking the prison yard looking up.

I still remember looking up in the sky and wondering if this is like one of those globes that you shake in the snow.

And I said, is there a God?

And I would say, is there a real God?

Is there someone that really cares about us?

Is someone overseeing us?

And I just had that recurring thought whenever I'd walk the prison yard by myself.

I'd get by myself.

But you were not

reading the scriptures and doing all the stereotypical Christian movie things.

No, not at all.

Not at all.

I was getting high right up pretty much to the time.

And

so he leaves, I leave, and I go back and I can't sleep.

I'm waking up every hour and I'm sitting on the edge of my bed.

I'm like, man, I want to be a Christian.

I want to be a Christian, but I don't know how and I don't know if I can in that sense.

Can I really live the life?

Why did you want to be a Christian?

I just.

What did that mean to you?

A better life

is the best I can say.

I saw a couple guys, my friend Warner,

in my book, we call him Big Moses, his nickname.

Liquid Love.

This guy was a big

gentle giant, but

I liked what I saw.

Larry, in just a few moments of time,

this loving individual, confident.

I wanted to be.

I had some other friends that wrote me and witnessed to me.

I remember an old girlfriend from high school wrote me when I was in a juvenile center, and she let me know she was a Christian.

And I remember, and we dated for short, but I remember her being a good person.

Person.

I remember when I first started going to church.

And I was looking for something.

I'm an alcoholic.

I'm really struggling to stay sober.

And I go to church, and there's these people there that this is why I asked you about it, if it felt foreign, because with me, I hated myself.

I mean, I'm the alcoholic.

I hated myself.

And I projected that as I hate people.

No, I didn't actually hate people.

I hated me.

And these people who were Christians were also very nice to me.

And all I could think of, you know, give me 10 minutes and you'll hate me

because I'm a very hatable person.

And

then after after being with the community for a while, for about six months, you know, because they were doing the same thing, have you made a commitment?

I'm like, shut up.

And

after

a while of being with them, I remember this one guy who I've talked about before.

I used to call him the Amazing Mr.

Plastic Man because I thought he was fake.

He was so happy all the time.

And I could not get my arms around that.

And

I heard him speak about

loving people

and really finding the way to love people, even if you don't know them, even if you don't like them, you still love them.

And

I mean, everybody in the room was crying and he was crying and I was crying.

And I remember thinking, I don't even know what this step really means.

And I don't know if I can do it.

But I want to be like that.

No amount of talking, no amount of missionary work of, hey, do this.

It has to, I think at least, it comes from being that example that somebody who's so desperately troubled just says, I want to be happy like you.

Yeah.

I remember with Warner, he was my next door neighbor.

And while I was in there smoking and getting high and all that, he was living next door.

You lived in another cell.

Next up.

And I remember we were in there, we were smoking some hash, and it was about four or five of us.

And I remember

we had the sheet pulled across my bars, you know, and we were in there smoking.

And we get done and put everything away and pulled the sheet across, and we step out.

And when I stepped out the cell, he was standing there on the other side of the tier looking at me, and it was like my high was gone.

Powerful.

And I was like,

I was like, I need to be like that.

I don't, what I'm doing.

I'm just looking at you like, what are you doing?

Yeah.

Yeah, like, what are you doing, Gene?

And I knew I was wrong.

That's all I can say.

I knew I was wrong.

I wasn't living the life I should be living.

And I looked at Warner.

I said, that guy right there.

That's somebody looked.

So, like you, I saw somebody.

He was joyful.

He had hard times.

He would sing.

He was joyful.

He was down to earth.

We worked out lift weights, played football together.

It's not the people.

That's why I called him the amazing Mr.

Plastic man for a long time because I saw him as a guy who was perfect, trying to be perfect and everything else.

But it took time for me to see, no, no, no, he has struggles, he has pain, he has difficulties in his life, but somehow or another,

it doesn't beat him.

You know, it doesn't define him.

Yeah, it's not who he is.

So

you make the commitment?

Not that night, Sunday morning.

In short, I go back Sunday morning, last service.

You feel it coming, though?

Oh, yeah.

It felt like a rubber band, you know, stretched.

And I sat the last pew.

The only thing left was the door.

I remember I can leave.

The officers want me to go back to the housing unit.

But he's preaching and he's Jesus died, rose again, the gospel stories.

And he's saying real men make commitments.

And I was like, my stomach churning, my hands sweating.

There's nothing like that feeling when you know you're being told

to do something

and you just know it.

You just know it.

I knew that I needed to get up.

And so he had to altar call, you know.

Yeah, yeah.

And I remember

I sat there and I wanted to get up.

I couldn't move.

My body wouldn't move.

And then these guys came over to me and they said, hey, you look like you want to accept the Lord.

And I couldn't even open my mouth and say yes or no.

I just like kind of looking straight ahead.

And when I heard them say, you want to accept the Lord or something like that, I remember leaning forward and got up and I went up front.

And these guys followed me.

And I just got on my knees and

we prayed, Jesus, come into my life, set me free, forgive me for my sins.

I want to live for you.

And when I stood up, I literally felt like chains, this weight, this heavy weight came off me.

I felt like I can literally live.

I can like breathe.

I had been into powerlifting weights, and I knew what it was to put hundreds of pounds on my back and squat.

It takes your breath away, and until you rack it, and you're like,

and that's what I felt like it was off.

That's literally, I felt this weight come off me.

And

I didn't know what I was saying, but I kept saying, hallelujah.

I left the chapel and I went back, hallelujah, to my friends and started reading the Bible.

Immediately started reading the Bible.

people who don't

I I hate to say it this way because it sounds horrible but I feel bad for the people who think

they don't really need it you know I mean far as you know I know people who are Christians but they've never really had

you know

they've never done the things that you know like you have done or many of us have done and when you get to that place

where you are desperate,

you, you, there is no other way.

You know, I'm, I am going to live in a very dark place.

If, if I don't do this, it's darkness or death for the rest of my life.

And you need it.

And

when you have that release,

There is no other way to describe it other than miraculous because it's your problems problems are still there, but it's it's like I don't know how to describe it.

It just

physically changes you.

I always now today understand it was just for me to help describe it is God gives you the power to overcome those things, walk through them.

You know, it's like he gives you grace to walk through them and not around it, but go through it.

You got to go right through it.

You got to go through it.

There's no bridges in the Bible.

You're not going to do any of that work for you.

Yeah.

And so he gives you grace.

And I've realized that

he gave me a portion of grace.

What does that mean?

He gave me power through the Holy Spirit that now dwelt in me through Christ.

When I accepted Christ,

I accepted the Godhead.

I accepted the Lord God Almighty in my life and he's living in me and I'm walking and I'm alive.

I was dead.

In my understanding, I was dead in sins and trespasses, and now I'm made alive in Christ.

So I go back and I was reading a Bible.

I'm reading a Bible.

I'm looking at my walls.

I'm reading the Bible.

I'm looking up.

And I had pornography on my walls.

I had like some pictures, centerfolds.

I remember getting up, tearing them down, flushing them, and reading some more.

And then I said, I have another picture.

A girl sent me a picture of her and some

lingerie.

So I get through my photo album.

I get that.

I rip it up.

And I just had this overwhelming sense that I want to be clean.

Yeah.

Got rid of anything I had some drugs, got rid of that.

I just wanted to be clean and I just felt this peace.

And the other thing was that I started apologizing immediately, started apologizing to people around the cell block for the next two days.

I would pray and say, Lord, I'm sorry for hurting Danny.

And he said, yeah, but I'm not Danny.

Go talk to Danny.

And I was like, oh.

So I'd get up the cell.

And, you know,

as much as I prayed about that individual that I had hurt, cussed out, out, bullied, whatever it was,

no matter how much I prayed for, God said, go apologize to him.

You reconcile back to what we were talking about.

Part of that, reconciling God, teaching me, that's what I did with you.

I extended my love towards you.

And you responded.

They'll respond if you humble yourself.

So that was a...

a couple of day process of doing nothing but going and and going to sell to sell there's nothing better it was it was hard it was very hard but there's nothing better.

It was very hard because I remember as a kid, I stayed out one night pretty late and I got home and my mother was real mad and she tried to hit me, smack me around and I grabbed her arms.

I said,

I'm too strong, too big for you to hit me.

You won't hit me.

Well, that ended it.

She walked out and next morning I tried to apologize and she yelled at me.

And

so, I mean, whatever the case was, I remember apologizing.

I felt bad.

I felt bad.

I grabbed my mom's arms.

I said, you're not going to to hit me.

You know, no son should do that, but I did it.

And when I apologized, she kind of blew up on me, yelling.

And so you were not, you were trained to apologize.

Yeah, I was afraid to apologize.

I was like, I'm going to get rejected.

So God showed me, said, no,

you're going to go and apologize to all these people.

So I remember that being a great, great lesson in my life.

Sometimes when you apologize, though,

you don't get.

You don't.

And it's not about, that's not what the apology is for.

Right.

And you don't, and you're not entitled

to a good response.

Right.

Which

your pact is between you and God.

Yeah.

You have to do your part and what they do,

how they respond is.

Yeah.

You're 27?

26.

26 at the time?

Year?

86.

December.

It was December 8.

Ronnie Reagan is still in office.

Okay.

You

went in with Jimmy Carter in office?

77.

77?

Yeah.

Are you watching television?

Are you I mean how

how disconnected from the outside world are you?

Uh just

very little I wasn't a news person.

I wasn't I wasn't involved in it.

What do I mean you were watching

culturally?

Culturally, you get some,

you could have a TV,

just basic channels.

And so you.

There were only three networks at that time.

Yeah.

And so you're not ignorant of what's going on.

Yeah, okay.

And

you're still hoping that there's going to be some clemency, even though at this point you're not really.

Yeah, I had begun at seven years, seven years into my sentence, I started kind of looking at

the process of the commutation.

And I knew that

the specialists that help you, part of the state,

DOC, the Department of Corrections, offers you some help.

They want you to do,

I think they said 10.

or 12 years for grieving periods for the victims

before you start.

So I was kind of looking into it, looking, gearing up.

So

Larry Titus, who had a church right down the street in camp hill christ community church he had he started coming to visit me we connected i wrote him a letter uh with the card soon after and we started visiting every week and i started uh discipling with him

but sitting there um sharing whatever he shared at church on sunday he i'd say let me get your notes let me get your sermon notes tell me what you taught your church so i i can learn it and then i would teach it to other guys in here and so when i had uh 11 years in the system, I filed a commutation with the board of parliaments and I was denied.

I did not have institutional support from psychologists, from counselors, from the warden.

They had not supported me yet.

Did you deserve it?

No.

Did I deserve?

Did you deserve

the,

you know, your first seven years, you're...

I messed.

And a lot of stuff I never got caught.

So they didn't have records of any of the drugs.

They didn't have records of any of my struggles.

Yeah.

But no, I didn't deserve it.

Never, never did.

I filed and I was denied.

And I just remember reading this verse in the Bible.

It says, give thanks in all circumstances for this is the will of God in Christ concerning you.

So I went back and I.

God, this hurts, but I'm going to say thank you.

And I started.

I love those moments because when you look back on them, you're like, you know, it actually did work out to be really good, but man, it hurt to say thank you.

Yeah, because

though I knew nobody owed me anything,

I still wanted to go home.

I still wanted.

So then I waited another year, filed it 12 years, and I got denied again.

Gaining some support, I had been in touch with the courts.

I had been in touch with the DA who prosecuted the case, James Davis, who wrote a letter on my behalf to the governor saying Gene should be released.

He's accomplished GD.

He has a vocation.

He has some skills, da, da, da.

I'm supportive of his release.

So I had that letter, which was humongous.

And when I would go up, they're like, how'd you get a letter like that?

I said,

I've been in touch.

I've been in touch with my course.

I've been in touch with my community.

And I got denied.

Same process, going back and giving thanks and literally worshiping the Lord because it was what I did already.

I did it Monday through, I did it, I worshiped every day.

That was, I love the Lord, and I love worshiping the Lord and teaching other men to do the same.

I waited, again, 17 years along the way.

And then along the way, you know, I'm involved in the church, I'm involved in Lobach literacy, I'm involved in programs, I'm involved in raising funds for women's resource centers,

become the president of the Lifers Association, chairman.

Why is the Lifers Association?

Well, just because it's a nonprofit organization within each institution, there are 26 institutions.

Everyone

has the privilege of becoming

active in this nonprofit.

So the inmates, at some time in the 70s, early 70s, they formed a nonprofit.

And what it does is it returns back to the community.

It does fundraising.

Inmates are paid anywhere from 10 cents to 42 cents an hour.

And so they have some money.

And so we could

work with outside vendors like donuts and hoagies and say, hey, we'll sell your hoagies in here.

And then some of the proceeds, we'll raise it up and give it to

Big Brothers, Big Sisters, and organization, local.

So that's the,

it's an organization, self-help, giving back to community.

You're now

17 years

and

you've got another 20.

You don't know this, but you have another 20 ahead of you.

Almost.

Yeah, another right?

Yeah, 17, 18.

At what point do you

do you become a pastor in prison?

By not

by title, but by heart.

Okay.

Yeah.

All right.

Yeah.

And what does that mean?

I've always ever since I got saved,

I think I always had a

shepherd's heart.

I was always protective of the guys.

I was always wanting to see others get saved.

I wanted to see others learn how to walk the Christian faith, walk it out in shoe leather, no matter whether you're in prison or not.

And so I just had

feeding my friends with the Word of God and the love of God.

And that was just a daily, that was a daily

activity that I did.

In every prison movie you've ever seen, seen, somebody's like, I'm innocent, or I don't deserve to be here.

And the line is always, that's what everybody says.

Sure.

How many people in the prison system do you think

are there wrongly?

Are there.

I could never even put a finger on the percentage, but I can, right in the top of my head, I know three guys that were my friends for a period of time that did not do it, and they were exonerated.

They were exonerated.

They were totally exonerated.

It wasn't even, yeah, DNA exonerated them.

And after seven, one was a lifer after 17 years.

And

another was

both homicides.

And another was after

four or five years.

So you were at least there.

Yeah.

Okay.

Yes.

But these guys weren't

there.

They weren't even there.

They weren't even, had no knowledge at all.

And they were.

What kind of hell is that?

I remember sitting down with this guy, Bill Kelly, and he kept saying, I didn't do it, Gene.

I did not do it.

I did not.

He had some mental health issues.

Very light.

I don't know how to explain it, but he was like taking lithium and stuff like that.

But

active, smart kid, all that.

But

he said, I didn't do it.

So he actually showed me his transcripts.

And I said, well, let me see.

So he's, and in it, the police,

with his alibi, he said,

Sheriff so-and-so.

I was playing, I was goat bowling with him and his wife that night.

Call him.

They called and they faked the phone call.

And they even say it in the transcript.

We faked the phone call.

And we didn't call, but we went back.

Bill, God don't like liars.

You need to tell us the truth.

You need to tell us the truth.

Did you kill that lady?

And after so many hours, he said, I guess.

What did he say?

He said, I was with him.

He said, no, you weren't.

So they actually lied.

And that came out later.

And so.

so that's what exonerated him.

Yes, yeah.

And it was just, you know,

the corrupt police in that sense.

But so Bill was released after four years.

The other guy did 17 years for a homicide.

How?

And then I knew a really good friend of mine who's released today.

Today?

He's out today.

He served his time.

He served.

But he served

10 years.

He had a 10 to 20 for a drug charge.

He was selling drugs in Philadelphia, him and his cousin.

And he told his cousin, don't sell today.

That's a police officer over in that van.

And he said, he said, I know.

Well, he was selling.

And he, my friend, didn't sell.

And they grabbed him up and they charged him, not the cousin.

Wow.

And so, so your cousin is in jail at this point.

He's in prison.

Yes.

He deserves it.

You've done 10 years.

You've done double that.

The 90s go by.

What do you remember about the World Trade Center is coming down?

I remember where I was at working.

I remember at the desk when the inmates worked in the, I was an ordering clerk for the institution.

I remember the inmates come in and they said the World Tower has

fallen over or something like that.

World Trade Center has fallen over.

I didn't even know what the World Trade Center was, honestly.

I couldn't even.

In New York, it was 71.

I couldn't even.

In 77, you're in jail.

So are you?

Yeah,

I heard him say a tower in New York City, and they said it fell over.

And we're all like, oh, and then eventually we learn as time goes on, we learn what went on and just glued to the, glued to the TV for days.

You are

you went in in 77.

This is before the big, huge black phone.

You probably don't even remember them.

They're big, huge block.

batteries and with a phone and a cord with it.

Yeah, no.

Yeah, you don't remember that.

The flip phones,

you don't remember those?

Afterwards.

Technology is growing.

Internet starts.

Yeah.

You don't have any.

No clue that.

No access to it either in the prison.

When you go in, you're two years, I think,

after

disco and Saturday Night Fever.

Yeah.

So when you go in, that's what's in style.

Bell bottoms.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Take me to the year now that you are going to get out.

Okay.

It's 37 years later.

34.

34 years?

Nine months, 15 days.

Wow.

But who's counting?

Yeah.

Yeah.

I was.

No, I wasn't.

I had no idea.

Yeah.

2012.

It was April.

April 3rd.

And I remember

the conversation about cell phones while I was still in men talking about cell phones and doing doing homework for the kids on the cell phone and internet and I was like what you know so having a little taste of that I I get out

and

I'm released and

tell me about first tell me about the how you get released okay

they had vacated through the process a couple months earlier the the DA agreed that I had spent 25 years over any sentence that I should have received I should have been given a 10-year sentence

Why didn't you?

Because the attorney pled me into an illegal plea agreement, which was proven.

He pled me an unconstitutional sentence.

And he was doing this.

You were not the only person, right?

Yeah.

Well, yes.

And Sid, too, my other, the stepbrother that was driving.

And so they agreed, the DA agreed on all counts.

And then the judge had to agree, and the judge agreed.

And so I'm in court.

I walk into court that day.

I'm being re-sentenced.

They said, Are you willing to be re-sentenced?

I'm saying any sentence you want to give me.

And it was sort of like the judge, even though the DA said

you should be immediately released, it had to be a judge to determine.

Right.

The judge could say another 10 years or not.

So I said I kept my plea of guilty and that they would give me a sentence.

And so I walk in the courtroom.

I have about 40 or 50 friends, high school people have

relationships over the past 25 years, Christians.

Your mother?

No, she had passed away five years before that.

Were you allowed to go to her funeral?

No.

No.

My sister was there.

My nephew, niece, brother-in-law,

some cousins.

It was quite a big crowd.

And so I go in and remember the judge saying some things, formalities, and back and forth.

And then he said, do you have anything to say?

And I stood up and apologized.

Thanked everybody for investing in my life,

mainly apologizing to the victim, the family, the community, high school.

I always thought my sister had to go back to high school for another three years.

Oh, boy.

So, you know.

So I apologize, sit down, my heart pounding,

you know, and I think, take me back to prison.

I have an opportunity to publicly apologize, you know, I mean

that was more important.

Yeah,

I don't care if they give me 40 years.

I'm, you know, I'm prepared to go back to the prison.

Nothing was promised.

Yeah.

Nobody told me I was getting out.

Yeah.

And the judge stand up and said the defendant, G.

McGuire, having served 34 years, nine months, 15 days, has served his maximum sentence and is released effective to state.

And the courtroom just exploded with applause applause and hallelujahs and praise the Lord and clapping.

And I remember just crying, like just head down.

I was chained, you know, shackled

and crying.

And I look up and thank the judge.

And the judge walked off the bench.

And the stenographer,

she's walking away.

And I'm just saying, thank you, thank you.

And so he never closed the court.

So meanwhile, someone yells, unshackle him, release him from his chains.

He's a free man, yells across the courtroom, bellowing voice.

And

they come over and they unshackle me.

And my sister, I hear the sheriff saying, My sister, Hold on, Mary, hold on.

And she goes, No, I waited

35 years for my brother.

I'm not waiting no more.

So she's hugging me, and they take chains off.

We're just celebrating.

I mean, oh my goodness, it's just unbelievable.

Stand there, and

someone comes up and hands me some clothes and says,

Mary, take your brother home.

So I go back and change.

And I reach in his bag, and there's some jeans, and there's a shirt and some socks and shoes.

And the whole time, I'm like, I'm like tripping.

I'm like, this is surreal.

You know, is this really happening?

Is someone going to, you know, stop?

And so

we

change and I reach in.

There's a bottle of cologne, Dulce and Gabbana, light blue, men's cologne.

And I spray it out.

I'm like, oh,

I'm spraying myself.

And the sheriff said, Gene, stop.

Stop.

So I'm standing like the intake, outtake.

And finally, he said, get your stuff.

Your family's waiting for you.

So I walk out,

family's waiting, friends, we're celebrating.

We're

laughing, circled up prayer with the attorney, with the sheriffs, all there.

People are videotaping things.

Someone hands me a cell phone and says,

The Papsons want to talk to you.

So I grabbed the cell phone and I remember looking at it and I put it to my ear, this black box.

And I said, I can't hear anything.

And I'm surrounded by people.

They're videotaping me.

And the one someone had,

now I know it was an iPad, but I thought it was like an Etcher sketch thing, you know?

I was like, what are they doing?

So I put the phone to my ear and I can't hear anything.

And I'm like, they turned it, they came up, it was upside down.

It was like, so

that was the beginning of technology.

We left there, went to a restaurant, we ate.

I remember getting in my brother's truck, and I thought, this is plush.

It was like, I've never sat in anything so comfortable in all my life.

The last time you were in a car.

Yeah, 77.

Well,

I went to a couple doctor trips.

Yeah.

But basically, it was sheriff's car.

So, so I was, so we, we go eat, and we're sitting there, we're eating, and there's about 20 of us at the restaurant.

And I'm eating and I'm like, man, this fork is so heavy.

I mean, it's really, I'm looking at it, it's heavy, and I'm like, man.

And I look down.

I just realized

I've been eating with plasticware all these years,

not metal silverware.

And I look down,

there's a steak knife.

I'm like, seriously, I'm like, oh, yeah, I don't know if that should be sitting there as a weapon.

But they're the things that, you know, you know, I'm not familiar with, you know.

But

there was a lot of that my first few years of

getting adjusted and

getting used to

freedom, getting used to choices.

My choice for food was always made for me.

I went shopping one morning,

got an apartment, and

I had to go get some food.

And I remember standing in the aisle, and I'm looking down this aisle of cereal.

Kroger's eyes, I mean, it was, I was like, so I texted a friend of mine in Pennsylvania.

I said, took a picture with my little flip phone that he gave me.

Someone gave, some of my nephew

provided it for me for a little bit.

And I said, so many choices, you know.

And I said, welcome to freedom.

Wow.

So it was, there was a lot of that, you know, some funny stuff, some embarrassing,

but most of it was all good.

Transition.

What did you see in the difference of people?

You had culture.

Was that a culture shock?

You know, I left Pennsylvania three weeks later.

I spent three weeks with my sister and some friends.

They took me shopping, and I knew I was coming to Dallas because Larry Titus had relocated the ministry to Dallas.

And he's the guy who gave you the card, or he's going to get, and he spent 25 years visiting me.

Never missed a birthday, never missed Christmas.

Always in the prison visiting him and his family.

And so I come down here.

You know, most, most, my,

my memory is guys, they get out, they go to halfway houses in the inner city.

And when they come back, oh, they didn't give me a chance.

Oh, there's drugs everywhere.

Oh, it's this, it's a mess.

I don't know, you know.

I get out.

I come to Collyville, Texas.

Not really a halfway house kind of place.

You know, and the enormous amount of wealth in Dallas, Fort Worth, opportunity, not just wealth, but opportunity,

the most church dairy in the world, I think,

probably.

Loving, accepting people.

I had no problems.

It's not a Jean-Valjean yellow ticket of leave.

Did you have any of the pushback that I just spent 35 years in

prison for murder?

No, nothing.

I mean, people were very open, open-armed, open-handed.

What did people, when you tell people that who don't necessarily know you or don't,

you know, you're just meeting them out on the street, and that comes up.

Does it come up?

And how do people react

about the being in prison for?

I think it's ruined some possible relationships.

How long were you in prison?

No,

it's a good icebreaker.

Yeah, I bet.

So dating.

Yeah, my first one, it was like that.

I was out about a month and a half, and I met a flight attendant.

And we were at a place called Bonefish, I think, up in Pennsylvania.

And I was with a friend of mine and kind of a blind date.

And she came, and I came, and

she says, what do you do?

I said, well, I live in Texas, and I do roofing.

I started a roofing job.

And she goes, oh, she goes, what did you do before?

I said, oh, I was away.

So, Tony, I was going to, you know, and she said, we're like, you know, like an island.

Yeah, kind of.

I said, no, prison.

And she goes, oh,

for what?

And I said,

homicide.

Oh,

like this, like this.

Oh, and she had a glass of wine every time.

She took a sip of wine, you know, set it down.

And

then I said, she goes, I suppose you could tell me you didn't do it.

I said, I didn't.

She goes, I think I need to get that side and get some air.

So I went out.

I said, can I join you?

She goes, yeah.

So I go out and I tell her the story.

And I said, you know, I don't have no baggage.

I said, I don't have no history, but I have no baggage.

I have no kids.

I'm not divorced.

I have no kids.

I said, can I see you again?

Well, you do have a little bit of baggage.

I mean, just a a little.

So she goes, Yeah, I like you.

So she invited me over and she cooked dinner for me.

So that was kind of, but

I know I think

even

with the homicide, painful, but the redemption, the forgiveness factor in there.

And

people,

what I did notice when I came to Dallas, in Dallas, Texas, when I got got out, period, but I'm here,

there's a lot of people who have never been in prison, never been addicted, but yet they're in prison to anger.

And I noticed like businessmen, they carry some, they carry like

an anger for bad decisions or they got bumped out or someone did something wrong to them.

Women are hurt by husbands who divorce them.

I sense that and feel that.

And I think when I started sharing my story and I tell them that I was able to forgive

and I was able to be forgiven, they

respond to that.

And they said, well, if you can do 35 years in prison and not come out angry, why can't I forgive my husband, my wife, my business partner?

Why can't I forgive?

whoever

and i noticed i noticed that a lot and that was kind of surprising because in in the prison,

I lived a Christian life.

There was a lot of guys that do live the life.

They're genuine, they're authentic.

And I just thought that's typical of everybody, but

it may not be.

Yeah.

Yeah.

I personally think hell

is not being able to accept the forgiveness for yourself.

You know, you can.

you're standing there and, you know, if you've tried and you've, you know, asked for forgiveness for all the things that you have done, that stuff's going to come relatively easy if you're sincere.

It's so hard to forgive yourself.

You know, when you said businessmen, you know, they've been, I think there's people who have made mistakes in their own life.

That's why I was an alcoholic.

You make mistakes in your life and then they just start compounding on each other, and you just feel like you can't get out.

And

so many people are walking around, and they can forgive others, but they can't forgive themselves.

Hmm.

Do you agree with that?

No, I do.

Yeah.

I think it's because they don't know the forgiveness of the Lord.

And that's the only thing

I can relate it to.

If you knew that God forgave you,

then

to not forgive yourself is a pride issue.

Yeah, it's like, who are you if he can do it?

Yeah.

And he knows all of it.

Yeah.

And I and I remember that was that was for me, you know, when on the cell floor asking Miss Naggy to forgive me, whether she could have understood that or heard it, but I did, you know, and I knew I had to do that.

And

then forget up and forgive myself and not live in this guilt-ridden,

you know, and never forget it.

Never let it go for a moment but

um the guilt and the shame um i can tell the story i can share that uh even though it's painful

you now are pastor at a big uh restaurant chain uh here in in dallas and i love the people that you work for um the vineyards are just remarkable people And I remember, I'll never forget when he first said to me, Paul said, oh, you got to meet our pastor.

He was in prison for life for murder.

And I was like, oh, okay, sure.

But you are

one of the

happiest guys

I have

come across.

I mean, you are just a,

you know, a happy, happy guy.

Who would you be without that night in the bar?

If you would have listened to your mother,

who do you think you would have been?

Would you be the same man you are today?

Oh,

absolutely not.

You know, and it's obviously you can't change the past.

But, I mean, I've thought about it, and I know that I've probably been dead, or I would have been alcoholic

and committed suicide.

A brother committed suicide.

A nephew committed alcohol from alcohol.

My father died at 20.

When I was 20, he was 51, alcohol, cirrhosal cirrhosal liver.

And it was steeped in my mother, too, until she became a Christian and stopped.

And so she lived to be 77.

So

I think

by

seeing it, I would have entered into, that's my thinking.

It's a

for me, very possible.

Suicides, my mother committed suicide.

My brother committed suicide.

Alcoholism is like a pack of wild elephants.

And you can get to the point where you feel like,

that's who I'm supposed to be.

I mean, I come from that, and that's what's going to happen to me, and that's a big lie.

Last, last thought or question.

And this is really hard to ask because it sounds weird, but maybe only an alcoholic and somebody like you can understand.

Do you thank the Lord

in any way

for

not what happened that night, but for that night?

Can you get to a place to where you're thankful that you went through all of that?

Yes, I had to.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Because it.

And

I'm not one that will say that God ordains evil because he doesn't.

But he's sovereign enough to use it.

And it's choices I made, my cousin made.

He worked.

And

maybe I have to wait to eternity to find out what God has to say about Isabel Nagy's suffering

and that murder.

and the pain.

But God's using that.

Yeah, he doesn't cause it.

He doesn't punish us like that.

That's not him.

but he is the best at making lemonade out of

the strongest lemonade i like that i like to say god doesn't waste the moment doesn't

and i i really believe he doesn't waste the failure no and we we have to deal with but god's like okay okay you blew it okay

my i'm not changing my plan for you you know i'm not i'm not i don't have to rewrite the script because gene you decided to disobey your mother and you decided to join in with a cousin and you decided to follow a bad character.

And

you made decisions and choices that night that

he's not rewriting it.

He's able to use it all.

What's next in the next half of your life?

A second book.

I'd love to get busy on that because the people that have read the first book, they're always asking about the second because the first book ends the day I got out.

I bought a house,

townhouse out in Fort Worth.

Why is there so much emotion behind that?

Oh, because it stands for prayer.

It was in prison, I remember praying for a car, a wife, and a house.

And I was able to buy a car.

I was able to buy a house.

And still waiting on the wife.

You can buy a wife.

It's not something you probably would want to do.

I don't have money for the quality.

You get the big Russian come over.

I don't have the type of money for the quality and the talent

and the intelligence that I'm looking for.

But are you in a relationship?

Are you

how can people get a hold of you if they're like

817

gmaguar.org

is my website, gemaguire.org.

It's a pleasure to know you and

thank you for reminding me

that everything is good.

Everything is good.

The Lord is good.