Series: 8 Of 16

FROM PROFIT TO PRISON

Editor's note: Names have been changed to protect the source's identity. A
knock at Paul Turner's front door one morning at 6 ended a long spree of
partying and selling cocaine to his friends.

"I knew when I saw it was the police that I was busted," he said.

Turner had been living the high life, partying at night with his friends,
snorting cocaine and drinking beer.

"I wasn't buying the coke to sell it, but soon, people I partied with
started asking me if they could buy some, so I'd sell them some of mine,"
he said. "It was easy money. I didn't have to get it fronted. I would break
just about even."

Turner said everyone was his friend when he had cocaine.

"We had this little sniffle sign that we gave each other when we had some
cocaine," he said.

But what started out as a fun time soon turned into hard work.

"People would call me all the time to ask if I had any. I would have to go
out and meet them. Then I'd have to do a line or two with them, and I'd be
up all night, then I'd have to do some coke to make it to work, but I never
missed work. Then I'd get another call or two the next night and I'd go
meet them and it was just a cycle," he said.

Turner was married with one child at home when police officers woke him in
the early morning raid, handcuffed him and took him to jail. He was found
guilty of illegal distribution of a controlled substance and sentenced to
10 years in prison.

"Prison was kind of like the Army," he said. "If you did what you were told
and kept your mouth shut, you didn't have too much trouble."

Turner said he signed up for every kind of trade and volunteered for
everything he could.

"I was trying to make the best of it, but then I got into a fight," Turner
said.

The fight was with two inmates who tried to rob him. Only they didn't take
money, they took his allotment of food from the prison store.

"We got to go to the store one time a week. If you had money on the books,
you could buy whatever you wanted, like a case of Cokes, some chips. You
could get two ice creams, candy.

"Anyway I came out of the store with my bags in my arms, and these two guys
started reaching in my bags and taking my stuff. One was in front of me and
one was behind me. So I just put my bags down and started swinging," he said.

Turner said one of the men suffered a concussion when he slammed his head
onto a concrete walkway.

Then he picked up his bags and kept going until he was intercepted by
prison guards, who put him in solitary confinement.

Turner said he was classified as "violent" and put on medication.

"Antidepressants, Ativan, Elavil, they had me on all kinds of stuff," he said.

"I remember taking the medication once and falling asleep. I woke up and
saw my food tray there, then I woke up again and it was gone. I couldn't
even wake up to eat," he said.

Meanwhile, his wife was trying to make ends meet without him or his income.
Turner said she had an affair.

"I knew my wife wasn't being faithful. At first it bothered me, but you
just learn to harden your heart because you can't do anything about what's
happening in the free world," he said.

Turner said he was transferred from one prison to another and during an
evaluation at the other prison, it was determined that he didn't need the
drugs he had been prescribed.

"Things got better then," he said. "I spent as much time as I could in the
library. I read every book I could. They changed the library policy there
just for me. It used to be you could only check out one book, now you can
check out as many as you want," he said.

But while Turner was reading to pass the time, time was passing for a
little girl who didn't know her father.

"My daughter was real young. I really didn't get to know her until I got
out," he said.

And he had two children from another marriage who missed having their dad
around.

After nine months, Turner was transferred again, this time to a cattle ranch.

"That was 4,400 acres of nothing but work," he said.

"Inmates were responsible for 1,500 head of cattle, half as many horses and
goats, a soybean farm and 40 catfish ponds. We made 15 cents an hour," he said.

Turner said that about this time it was brought to his attention that his
wife and his ex-wife were getting money from the state for child support,
and the state was billing it to him, plus interest.

"I got behind in my child support. I still get bills from the state. I just
throw them away," he said.

Turner was paroled after serving less than three years.

He attended a 12-step program as a requirement of his parole, but soon
became disillusioned with it. "They would stand up there and say they had
no addictions, and smoke one cigarette after another," he said. Turner and
his wife divorced soon after his release.

He finally found steady employment, but he admits that he never told
potential employers he is a convicted felon.

"I'm not bad. I can be bad, but I just screwed up," he said.

Turner said his time in prison helped him to see drugs in a different light.

"I don't do them no more," he said, "I've ruined a lot of lives."