My brother, another man, and I were being held prisoner by someone in the upstairs of the House in Patriot. From the upstairs window, I could see my maternal grandmother Leacy (1901-1972) standing on the street not far away. Since no one else was around, I stuck my head out the window and motioned for her to come to me; I wanted to tell her to summon the police or someone to come and rescue us. When she saw me, she walked toward me, but ignored what I wanted. Finally, instead of helping me, she entered another house two doors down.

I contemplated simply jumping out the window. Even though the fall to the ground was long, I thought I could hold onto the outside sill and hang-drop. Such an escape would be risky because guards periodically pulled up in a car outside the window and marched by. I knew if my two companions and I did not escape now, we would be executed this very day.

When I finally saw an opportunity, I climbed outside the window, held on to the window sill, and hang-dropped to the ground. Despite the long fall, I managed to land intact and without injury. As soon as I hit the ground, one of my law school classmates, Jeff Coppick, walked out of the front of the House and saw me. He appeared to be headed toward a car parked nearby. Since I knew Coppick had been a policeman before entering law school, I thought he might turn me in. After looking at me for a second, Coppick acted as if he had not seen me and he retraced his steps into the House. With a flood of relief, I realized he was going to let me escape.

With no one else in sight, I dashed toward the front of House to the ditch along the side of the road. Having safely reached the ditch, I knelt down in it and crawled along until I came to the front of the house two doors down, the same house which my grandmother had entered. I kept looking back at the House from which I had escaped, afraid that someone besides Coppick would soon discover that I was missing. When I observed someone walking out of the House, I jumped up and rushed into the house which my grandmother had entered.

Although my grandmother was nowhere to be found inside, I fortuitously encountered another fellow also trying to escape. When the two of us conferred, we concluded that the other two men whom I had left behind would now be unable to escape, especially since one of them was crippled. This realization saddened me, but since I had to escape, I did not see any other choice but to abandon my other two companions; there was nothing I could do for them now.

Seeing our chance, the two of us slipped back out of the house, jumped on two waiting motorcycles, and began a wild ride down the road. We rode for hours, successfully completing our escape. When we finally reached an intersection where a two-story log building was standing, we stopped and climbed off the bikes. I watched as my companion began climbing up the side of the building, pulling up his motorcycle behind him. By the time he reached the building's loft and slipped inside, he appeared to be pulling up a lawnmower instead of a motorcycle.

I also began climbing up to the loft and, with my companion's assistance, pulled up my own lawnmower with me. When I asked him why we were pulling the lawnmowers up to the loft, he asked, "Well, do you see those trucks out there?"

I could see that he was pointing toward the intersection where several trucks and cars were parked. My companion continued, "We're going to take one of those."

Apparently, his plan was to stash the motorcycles in the loft, and steal one of the motor vehicles. I disliked the idea. I had just escaped from jail, and I didn't want to do anything wrong and risk going back. But I saw the utility of stealing a motor vehicle—we would be able to move faster.

Leaving the motorcycles stashed in the loft, we clambered back down to the ground, jumped into one of the cars parked at the intersection, and drove off. In the process, a third person joined us. While the other two sat in the front, I occupied the back seat.