Not even worthy of dead fish

Every once in a while the fish wrap of record here in Los Angeles just out does itself. Sunday, November 30th was one of those days.

Front and center on Page 1 was this article, A quarter-century marriage to a man behind bars. Lucky us, it’s the first of a three part series.

I found the article a pathetic piece of journalism, and a waste of black and white that could have been better spent.

I am no feminist, but this piece, in my opinion, portrayed this woman as a heroine, and her relationship with this convicted criminal romantic and tragic.

In a physical exile, they would share the closest of bonds. Their correspondence would fill boxes, and they would chat on a prison phone through bulletproof glass for hours at a time.

(skip)

There was a kiss, but no dancing or cake. For her wedding night, she drove back down U.S. 50 to her apartment, made dinner and went to bed alone.

It is not romantic. It is, however, tragic, as is our “heroine.”

She was drawn to people who were different. She loved to debate a wannabe Black Panther in her dorm just to hear his ideas. But her interest in classes was haphazard, and she dropped out after her second year. She took a job at a bar and wondered where circumstances would take her next.

Our hero is a drug addict and a thief, who became a member of the Aryan gang in prison.

But outside the house, he was defiant and stirring a fury of trouble. He started smoking weed and popping barbiturates at 12. He first stuck his arm with a needle full of heroin at 14.

Arrests added up: narcotics, burglary, assault. In the 11th grade, he punched a teacher and was sent to a boys detention camp in Trabuco Canyon. When he got out and landed in more trouble, his probation officer gave him a choice between jail and the Marines. Robert made it through basic training, but was kicked out for twice going AWOL on drug jags.

By the late 1960s, he was robbing convenience stores to buy heroin.

Our heroine and hero meet. They can’t help it. She’s married to his brother. In June 1984, after she divorces brother #1, she marries brother #2 (the convict) in prison.

Her first letters were filled with idle chat and family news. Soon she found herself drawn to Robert in the way she was drawn to the wannabe Black Panther in the dorms at Kansas State. She found in Robert someone craving to express himself. Pam didn't realize how much she needed to do the same.

Oh, dear Lord … it goes on and on like this. How tragic. How romantic. How poetic.

How disgusting. How horrifying. How pathetic.