In my addiction and insanity, I shot and killed a man, who was trying to rob me in my own home. A drug deal gone bad, so they say. I was charged with second degree murder and a couple of charges of possession of controlled substances (marijuana and Xanax) with intent to sell, manufacture, distribute, or deliver while armed. I was a twenty year old with an eighth grade education and completely ignorant about the law.
After four years in Miami-Dade county jail, I went to trial and lost. I was found guilty on all charges and sentenced to a natural life without parole running consecutively with thirty years for one of the drug possessions (Xanax) and thirty years for the other (marijuana). I was completely ignorant of the whole appeal process, rules and regulations. I believed I had all the time and appeals I wanted in order to get back. I was wrong. It took a group of “old-timers” (about 4-5 of my Cuban elders that had been incarcerated since the eighties) to explain the whole appeal process; how many appeals I’m entitled to and how much time I have to file, because, if the appeals aren’t timely filed I could get “time barred.” Statistically, I only had a ten-percent chance of winning my appeal and ninety- percent chance of losing. “Nine times out of ten you’re going to die in prison kid”, said one old-timer. Once upon a time all of them came to prison young, ignorant, and filled with hope of giving back their lengthy sentence on appeal, yet, here they were before me 25, 28, 30 years later, still in prison.
In the beginning of my incarceration, I was wild and fighting and living like I had nothing to lose. I had to “represent for my set, miraza (my people), and my hood.” After a year of living like a heathen, my body now filled with tattoos, I was talking to my mother on the phone, the only person left in my corner. Everyone else had left me for dead. The mother of my children, her family, all my friends and all those fake people that claimed they “loved” me when I was on the streets, were all gone. There I was, 10-12 hours away from home in the Apalachee Correctional Institution, East Unit (right on the Georgia/Alabama border) in the “panhandle.” Listening to the only woman who truly, unconditionally loved me cry her heart out over the phone. My first-born nephew was dying, he was born with cysts in his kidneys and was experiencing kidney failure. Doctors said he wasn’t going to make it, plus I, her only son, was serving life in prison. She couldn’t understand why God had done this to her, why God was allowing these tragedies to happen to her son and daughter. My big sister and mom are God-fearing women, heavy in the Word. At this time my mom had acquired 18 years of sobriety. They always tried to talk to me about God. As a kid, my big sister used to read Bible stories to me, but that’s all it was to me, Bible stories, fairy tales. Hearing my mother grieve actually broke my heart. I asked her if there was anything I could do. She responded, “Go to church, pray for me, pray for your nephew and sister, and pray for yourself Randy.” Sad to say, I smirked, I explained to her that in prison that’s considered a sign of weakness, thus comes the saying, “If you’re scared, go to church.” The last time I went to church was in the county jail and it was to catch an enemy/rival. I threw him down the stairs breaking his arm and ankle, he chipped my front tooth. Me and my mom struck a deal that Saturday night on the phone, I gave her my word as a man that I would go to church if she would cheer up and stop worrying. She agreed and our 15 minute phone call was up.
That night as soon as I hung up, I felt so much pain in my heart and soul. As I walked back to my cell, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders crushing me. One of my Cuban brothers (about 6 plus feet, 200 plus pounds) named Laz met up with me in my cell. We smoked a joint but the high did nothing for my pain. I explained the situation and he said that he would go to church the next morning with me. That night, alone in my cell, sick and tired of being sick and tired, I began to contemplate. My mind was racing at one hundred miles per hour. How could this happen? How did I end up in prison with a natural life sentence? This wasn’t in my plans, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this can’t be happening! I would never lay with a woman again and please her how I want to, I will never drive a car again, nor eat good food, nor sleep in a real bed, etc. My children will never have their father just like I never had mine and then it hit me. As a child, I despised drugs, drug dealers, and alcohol because of what they did to my parents. I remember flushing alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes down the toilet. At the age of six I lost my father, he was incarcerated by the feds because of drugs. Growing up in Miami as a young Cuban kid in a predominantly Hispanic hood aka “barrios” without the proper fatherly guidance, my mother battling with her disease of addiction and alcoholism while at the same time struggling with poverty. The inevitable happened, I became the epitome of what I despised most as a child. I went to church the next morning, the chaplain preached about God’s kingdom, life after death, a do-over in paradise. Being a “lifer” this message filled me with hope and it did the same for my big homie Laz. The chaplain announced they would be showing a movie, “The Passion of Christ.” Me and big Laz signed up to watch the movie. Upon watching the movie, for an unexplainable reason, I had a knot in my throat. All of a sudden (on the part where Mary had a flashback of when Jesus was a child), I felt a warm sensation cover my face like waterfalls falling from my eyes. I was crying, I was so embarrassed but when I looked to my side, my big homie was bawling like a child that had lost his puppy and so was everyone else.
After the movie, the chaplain offered a Bible study in which we would receive a certificate upon completion. Everyone there signed up for it. I figured this would make mom proud. The way that volunteer professor broke the Word down brought that book alive before my eyes, Wow! I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I began diligently seeking Him earnestly. I began praying and meditating on the Word. The Lord began His transformation in me. Little by little I was free from my addiction of marijuana, alcoholism, and even cigarettes. I presented my body, mind, and soul as a living sacrifice to God and asked God to heal my baby nephew. I confessed all of my sins and that I messed up real bad this time. This government is too big and too strong, and I’ll never succeed going up against this, tyrant, unless He helps me like He helped David defeat Goliath. “He rewards those who earnestly seek Him”, Hebrews 11:6.
One evening, I was moved to call home. My mother was excited and extremely happy. My big sister had taken my nephew to the hospital in another state to a specialist. They ran all types of tests on my nephew and the results were that there were no cysts in his kidneys, they had disappeared! My nephew was healed! After a phone call with my sister, my attorney called my mom and told her that my trial transcripts disappeared! After 2 ½ years of being in prison with a life sentence, waiting on my trial transcripts to begin my direct appeal, poof! There isn’t any transcripts. What happened was the stenographer ran out of paper during my eight day trial. She recorded it on a disc or USB chip and as soon as she plugged it into her computer, Boom! Her computer caught a virus. They brought in some technicians to hook up their apparatus in order to recover the corrupted data and Bam! The computer crashes! (Praise God). I got reversed and remanded for a new trial. After eight months in the county jail, I was faced with a difficult decision, 25 years mandatory or trial. Realizing it’s no longer about me anymore, I asked my mom and family what they wanted me to do. They all said, “Take the plea!” I have a release date now, instead of 99/98/9999, the year they gave me now is 2030.
A young foolish, ignorant kid infatuated with darkness, drugs and death now loves the light, life, sobriety, and the Lord. I have educated myself, I have my GED, vocational trade, and an abundance of completed programs with certificates and I will continue to better myself mentally, physically, spiritually, academically, etc.
Above all else, Jesus has given me the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22, 23), freedom, and most of all salvation because JESUS SAVES PEOPLE LIKE ME TOO, he will also do it for you.
Sincerely,
Randy Chaviano
#M69012
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