Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given (2010) (23 page)

His relationship started deteriorating as fast as his self-esteem. Eventually, Justin’s girlfriend kicked him out of her house. Beth somehow convinced him to come back to Hawaii and live with us so he could heal and get stronger. However, she was clear that he had to promise to stay close, work hard, and not go back to taking drugs. He promised us he wanted to change his ways, so we allowed him to come back.

It didn’t take long for Justin to break his promises. Shortly after he arrived, he ran off again in the middle of the night, without saying good-bye to Gary Boy. That was it. We had to wash our hands of Justin because he’d broken our son’s heart again, leaving us to pick up the pieces when Gary Boy asked questions about why he left. Gary thought he’d done something wrong to upset Justin. It’s hard to explain to a six-year-old that it wasn’t his fault, that Justin had adult problems that a little boy couldn’t possibly comprehend. Beth and I had a hard time
coping whenever the subject came up, because we never had the right words to comfort our son or ourselves.

A year went by without any contact from Justin. He sent messages through Moon and other people we knew in common, but we wouldn’t even let him have our new phone numbers, because he wasn’t in a stable place in his life. We heard he was in another tumultuous relationship, and this time his girlfriend had called the cops on him over a money issue. That’s when Beth asked Moon to bring him to our house so we could talk to him. She was afraid that if we didn’t step in and help Justin do something with his life, we’d lose him once and for all. He’d either end up in prison or worse. It was clear he was lost, and would have no hope, no love, and no future unless we extended a hand.

When Justin showed up, he was a broken, ruined boy. His color was ashy, he’d lost a lot of weight, and he was missing the spark that made him Justin. No smile, no warmth. His years of constant disappointment, one after another, had taken a toll. He’d spent years running away from us after he wasn’t asked to come back to the show, but now it appeared he wanted to return to the fold. Beth warned Justin that we would give him another chance, but if he left Gary Boy like he had in the past ever again, the door would be closed forever. She explained to Justin that in life, time passes quickly, and if he didn’t seize opportunity when it presented itself, it wouldn’t be there for the taking later on.

I sat Justin down and told him he couldn’t give up on life. He needed to find a way to turn his physical challenge into an asset. “This is your chance. Jump on board while it is moving, Justin. Start shoveling coal and do whatever it takes to keep the train in motion. We don’t know if it’ll last two more months or two more years. You have to ride the train while you can or the train will pass you by.”

Someone once told me “What you compromise to keep, you lose.” And that was exactly where Justin was in his life. He’d compromised his job with us and lost it. He’d compromised his life and almost lost it. He’d compromised his leg by smoking dope and lost it. If you had asked him if it was worth it, I think he’d have said, “Hell no.”

Before the accident, Justin would often accompany our crew on
bounty hunts. I asked him if he still had his badge. He said he did. I told him there would always be a place in the car next to me when he was ready to come back to work, but first he had to get healthy.

By the summer of 2009, Justin had gained fifteen pounds, got some healthy color back in his skin, and found his laughter again. He never hesitates to do whatever it takes to get the job done. He doesn’t complain or grumble about anything. He doesn’t ask for time off and, frankly, doesn’t want it. He is willing to be by my side twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, taking care of anything and everything. His answer is always “Yes, Uncle.” There’s nothing he’d do today that would jeopardize the relationship we’ve all built.

Justin is a kid who needed a second, third, fourth, and fifth chance before waking up and realizing he had to do something to change his life or he’d live as a broken-down addict the rest of his days.

Justin returned to the team with great pride and humility. He shows up at the office dressed to hunt. He had to learn how to walk all over again, mostly by hopping on one leg or by using his prosthetic leg. He can jump as high as a kangaroo. He is as fast as a sprinter. He can move like a gazelle, quickly and with great agility. I can’t really think of Justin as disabled, because he hasn’t let his circumstances slow him down one bit. He’s been through a tremendous amount of physical therapy since losing his leg and has learned to walk without a noticeable limp when using his prosthetic leg. When he removes the leg, he’ll jokingly shout out, “Periscope down.”

Beth and I have made it a point to keep Justin close to us wherever we go. We are determined to make sure he stays on the path he’s now on. I love him like a son. We are always encouraging him to keep fit and take care of himself so he’ll never have to worry about his health again. Even though he is still self-conscious about it, he has started using his disability in a positive way. Through the show, he now has a platform to show people that having a disability doesn’t have to handicap you. Sitting around moping about his challenges is what handicaps a person. Being a one-legged bounty hunter is a huge step in educating people about that. God gave Justin back everything he ever wanted,
but with a twist. He now has life lessons and a story he can share to be a blessing to somebody else.

A few weeks after Justin came back to us, a little boy from the Make-a-Wish Foundation came to see me. Beth and I were so busy with work she couldn’t come with me for the meet-and-greet with the young boy, so she asked Justin to accompany me. The little boy began telling Justin about how bad it hurts when his doctors and nurses poke him with needles. He said the shots make him very sick and that he doesn’t want any more treatments. His mother had told him that if he could just endure a few more treatments he’d get to meet Dog the Bounty Hunter, which is how he ended up there that day. Justin was so moved by his story that he spontaneously lifted up his pant leg and popped off his leg to show the little boy. He let him touch his nub and play with his prosthetic leg like he was Captain Hook. The boy and Justin laughed together for several minutes before Justin turned to the little boy and said, “You see? Even I have disabilities, but you can’t let that stop you. You have to move on.” He showed that little boy that his problems weren’t as bad as he’d thought. Being poked with a needle was minor compared to having your leg sawed off. The boy drew so much strength and positive energy from Justin, something Justin had barely had himself a few months prior. I knew in that moment that Justin was well on his way to becoming strong and full of self-respect. It was clear to me he would never leave us again.

Later that day, when Justin returned to the set of the show, he was full of energy, love, and laughter and had finally gotten back to his old adorable self. All it took was for him to be a blessing for somebody else, to show Justin that life is hardly ever as bad as it seems. Justin, who has had his fair share of second chances, is now teaching other people how to get theirs. It’s so good to have him back. I’m very proud of the man he’s becoming and I take great pride in once again calling him one of “us.”

The lesson here is to understand that everybody has problems, handicaps, stigmas, and challenges in their life. How we deal with them is what truly matters. There is hope. If you’ve been laid off or
fired, you can go out there and get another job. You may not get the same job you had, but there is work available if you need to make money. If someone said you’re not talented, smart, or educated enough, you can go back to school to study your craft to become the very best at what you do. I’m positive you can overcome most anything life throws your way, because I have done it over and over again. I’ve gone from a zero to a hero—from a first-degree murder convict to a best-selling author, television star, and advocate for change. If I can do it, you can too.

And just in case you thought my troubles were all behind me, think again. As I write this book, I am faced with the challenge of having to start all over again financially, because I am deeply in debt to the IRS. The truth of the matter is I’ve never been very good at keeping up with my taxes or other financial obligations because someone else has always taken care of those matters for me. I spent years not knowing where my bank accounts were or how much money was in those accounts, because my mother did my bookkeeping until the day she died. Because I am a convicted felon, my career choices were limited from the very day I was released from prison. It’s hard to get a job with a felony conviction on your record. Many people never get the chance to make something out of their lives when they get out of the joint, because society won’t give them the opportunity.

When I started writing bail, I made sure my mother kept me current on my bills, taxes, and every other financial obligation I had as a businessman and a parent. I’m not terribly realistic about money and never have been, because I know the Lord will always inevitably provide for me. All I’ve ever been was the breadwinner—and I’m very good at bringing home the bacon. I’ve always done whatever it took to make sure I could provide for my family. I did all sorts of odd jobs to supplement the lean years—I sold vacuums, took on private investigation jobs, and anything else that would add a few hundred bucks to my pocket so I could make sure the bills were getting paid. If my bills were two grand a month, I made $1,198—just enough to stay almost even and always two dollars behind.

I’ve never had large assets, so there were never any real large expenses for homes, boats, cars, and such. I’ve always rented the houses I’ve lived in because I never had enough money for a large down payment. Even the cars you see me drive on the show are paid for by the network. With twelve kids, most of my money over the years went to keeping them clothed and fed. After that, my first priority has always been to provide a good education for them. The younger kids all attend private school so they can, at the very least, get a good education. My older kids never had the option of private school because I didn’t have the finances to pay for it back then. Since I didn’t appreciate school growing up, I always wanted to be certain my kids didn’t make the same mistake I did by dropping out. I’ve always encouraged all of my children to pursue an education before joining the family business.

My mother always told me the love of money was the root of all evil. Having money isn’t a bad thing, but
loving
it can be very damaging. I’ve never had a love of money. If I had gotten the reward money for Luster, I would have given a portion of it to the victims because I feel they were just as deserving of it as I was. At the end of the day, the real reward for me is seeing justice served, not the money I put in my pockets. I guess that’s why I am usually without money. I like to share it.

I’m not a fancy guy and my needs have always been basic and simple. One of the reasons I have such an understanding for the people who watch my show is because I am that person. I struggle with bills. I’ve been a single dad with five kids who each wanted a pair of fifty-dollar jeans. I was never the type of father to tell my kids that they couldn’t have something, so I always found a way they got whatever they needed.

After my mother passed away in 1995, my life took a downward turn. I spiraled out of control until I was no longer able to make my own way. I was on welfare for three months before I finally flew back to Colorado to straighten out my life, get off the drugs I had turned to in my darkest moment, build up my strength, and yes, start all over again. Things were never easy, but I always found a way to get by, and for the most part, despite our limited resources, we were usually pretty happy.

In 2000, I started bounty hunting again after recovering from my battle with drugs and health issues. I was finally on my way back financially. For the first time in five years, money began coming in and I could actually catch up and meet my bills.

At the time, Beth and I had six children under the age of eighteen living at home, plus Moon and her three children were living with us too. Even though I was climbing the ladder again in business, I decided I didn’t want to stay in Colorado. I wanted to return to Hawaii. Since my license had been revoked and I could no longer write bail there, I needed to get Beth licensed so she could write bail in Hawaii for us. We were flat broke at the time, so we went to San Diego, where she could get licensed, because it was cheaper than flying all the way to Hawaii.

By late 2001 we were beginning to make a little bit of money, writing one bond at a time. We might have had close to a total of ten thousand dollars in the bank when I got the lead on Andrew Luster. Since I had to fund the hunt for him all on my own, I spent every last dollar I earned in 2002 chasing him down. Once I caught Luster, I thought everything was going to be OK, because I was certain the judge would award us the cost of apprehending him, which totaled more than $300,000 out of my own pocket. The law in California clearly stated that I had 180 days to capture a fugitive to make the claim. We captured Luster in 166 days. Upon Luster’s return to the States, the court was supposed to return the $1 million bail to the person who put it up, less the cost of apprehending the fugitive. In this case, it was Luster who’d posted his own bail, so he was entitled to the balance of the $1 million after our expenses were paid.

At the time, I figured I’d have the reward money from capturing Luster to put a small down payment on a house for my family and catch up with the IRS, which I had fallen behind on during that hunt. Several times during the course of my search for Luster, reporters would ask what I intended to do with the reward money when I found our guy. My response was always the same: “Write my check to the government.” But I never got that chance.

We finally started making a little money when we began filming the show, although a lot of it went to paying for my legal defense. I filed my back tax returns and tried to catch up. I paid whatever the accountant told me to pay. By 2005, my tax returns from 2001 to 2004 had all been prepared and filed. Even though I wasn’t making any money from 2001 to 2003, the IRS estimated my income to be somewhere in the neighborhood of $800,000 a year. There was significant money coming into the bail bonds businesses I owned in Colorado and Hawaii, but the income wasn’t flowing to me personally. It was paid to whatever agent wrote the bond, so I never made the money the IRS was taxing me on. Bail bonds is one of the most heavily audited industries because it is such a high-cash business. The IRS has its own special manual just to audit bail bondsmen. A lot of the time, I don’t charge people for picking up a fugitive, so it’s hard to prove when I’ve had to pay a snitch fee or money to informants. Of course, these people don’t want to give up their Social Security numbers so I can 1099 them at the end of the year for giving me a little information. Doing that would leave a trail of who my anonymous contacts are. Over the course of my career, I’ve captured well over six thousand wanted fugitives at no cost to the taxpayers. I am not now, nor have I ever been, out to screw Uncle Sam. The government should have been able to give me the benefit of the doubt, but they didn’t.