In November of 1974 I had become restless. As much as I enjoyed my job, I was getting tired of spending all my time on the base. When off duty I couldn't go on SAR runs unless there was a big emergency, which never happened, so I got bored hanging around the marina. It was too cold to do much that didn't involve spending money. In my car I explored a little, but didn't go far. For one thing I didn't have much money so I couldn't afford a motel room so I was limited in range.
During one of my short outings I got my first speeding ticket. Somehow it felt wrong to pull over when a cop got behind me, but I really was trying to change my ways. Paying the ticket contributed to my poverty. It wasn't long before I realized I'd be better off with a part-time job. The nearest town was Cambridge, Maryland, which was pretty small, but large enough for me to find the perfect job. At a Pizza Hut. The job was for an assistant manager, which I didn't qualify for but managed to land anyway. The manager needed someone to take every other weekend and the odd day so he could have some family time. Perfect fit.
The manager and I were the only guys employed there. The rest were women. Two were married, the rest were single. The manager was married and to my knowledge didn't fool around, but it was clear from who he hired that he liked pretty girls. Like I said, the perfect job.
I was the youngest there so the girls all called me "jail bait" and flirted with me constantly. I had no experience with women so really didn't know what to do with them, but I liked the attention just fine. Working there had been uneventful until one of the girls asked me if I could get a half ounce of pot from one of the guys at the Coast Guard station for her. I was determined that I was going to keep my nose clean so I wasn't selling or even smoking pot. At first I said no, but she talked me into it. It seemed reasonable as I went back to the base every night to sleep and I knew the guy she was talking about well. When I told him what I wanted and who it was for he told me to be careful. He wouldn't sell her anything because he didn't trust her because her older brother had been busted selling pot a few months back. Because of this he was worried about a set up. But I wasn't dealing and everyone knew that and I worked with the girl so I agreed.
The next day I gave her the half ounce at work, which cost ten dollars back then. She paid me with two five dollar bills. When I left the Pizza Hut that night two police cars pulled me over. They searched my wallet and found those two fives, which had been marked. They didn't even search my car so I figured they knew I wasn't dealing. They didn't arrest me right then, but said they would if I didn't give up the guy on the base. I said I didn't get it from that guy. They said I had some time to think about it. After that I either gave up the guy they wanted or I would be arrested for distribution of marijuana. I went back to the base and told the guy what happened. He dumped his pot in the Bay and to my knowledge never sold drugs again. He told he he was dating the local state's prosecutor's daughter and the guy didn't like him, which is why they wanted him so bad. I believed him, but I was still on the hook. The charge wouldn't be a big deal to the civilian authorities, selling a half ounce of pot was a misdemeanor, which I didn't realize at the time, but I knew it would be a big deal to the Coast Guard. If I was convicted by the civilian court for selling drugs, regardless of how minor, I would be court marshaled and discharged.
I hadn't admitted to anything and it turned out that this girl was less than creditable. I talked to a local lawyer who thought he could beat the charge but it would cost me. That was fine except I didn't have enough money and I'd been fired from the Pizza Hut because the manager knew about the drug thing. I reverted to what I knew. Stealing. I didn't want to, but felt I was cornered. I did little things with little chance of getting caught but also little pay. I found a guy who dealt in stolen car stuff so that's what I did. I didn't steal a whole car, but I would steal all four tires off a new car on the lot. I did that several times. I hadn't done much when the guy told me what he needed was a couple of motorcycles. Specifically, two Honda 360 motorcycles.
I couldn't do it alone so I talked two of the guys on the base into help me. I still feel bad about doing this because neither of those guys had ever broke the law. But I needed two, one to drive the second bike and the other to drive our car back. One of the guys was from western Virginia and knew of a Honda dealer in Lynchburg, so on March 9, 1975 that's where we went. We got two bikes but could only start one, so we went with one. For some reason one of the guys rode with me on the bike. Back in Maryland we'd stopped for breakfast, and while pulling across a the road to get back on the highway we were broadsided by an Opel Cadet doing sixty-five miles per hour. I know his exact speed because a Maryland State Trooper was behind the Opel about to pull the guy over. I saw the car out of the corner of my eye and raised my leg just before the car broadsided me. According to the trooper my head went into the car's windshield then I continued over the car landed on my head on the road then with momentum still carrying me flipped to my feet. The trooper said he nearly ran over me. What I remembered then and now was raising my leg in slow motion to avoid getting it crushed by the car, then hearing breaks screech and looking down to see a car's front bumper gently touch my knee. I looked at the driver to see the trooper with his mouth open in shock.
My mind set is to never give up, so I took a step to try to run but could hardly move. The Trooper had my arm and told me to lay down. I said I was fine, but he said its not possible that I was fine, so he made me lay down. My codefendant and passenger had been thrown off the back and was screaming. The cop treated it like the traffic accident that it was and didn't realize the motorcycle, which was 115 feet down the road and crumpled, was stolen. My passenger appeared in the worse shape so they called a helicopter for him and an ambulance for me. As his helicopter lifted off I found myself wishing we had one of those at CGS Taylor's Island for Search and Rescue. After picking me up my ambulance broke down on the way to the hospital so we waited on the side of the road for another. It was one of those days. I broke one bone in my right hand and my passenger suffered only from shock. They released me after setting the bone, but kept him over night.
Nine days later, March 18, 1975 the local police arrested me for distribution of marijuana while I was on duty. It was a minor charge so I was given a signature bond. I went back to the base, picked up my car and left that night. I was listed AWOL the next day, March 19, 1975.
With no where to go and no money I floated around for nine days until in Jacksonville, Florida I was arrested for stealing gas by driving off from the gas station. I was so frustrated with myself for being so petty that I didn't even try to outrun the cop. I just pulled over like a normal person. A first for me. It was so minor that I was only held in jail because of the AWOL hold. Florida dropped charges a few days later and handed me over to the Navy. The first week of April 1975 Navy MP's picked my up to take me to the Jacksonville Naval Brig. Those MP's knew about my escape form Orlando so they were bragging about how I'd never get out of their brig. They were still talking about how good their brig was when I used the handcuff key hidden in my belt to remove my hand cuffs, then the leg irons. A soon as the MP van stopped at a red light I kicked open the side door of the van and ran through traffic. They chased on foot screaming that they'd shoot if I didn't stop. I didn't stop and they didn't shoot. Escape number two.