The pre-prison Gary Brooks Waid, whom his loyal friends describe as 'carefree', came from a good family. His brother and sister-in-law retired after years in the Presidential Band, and like them, he, too, had musical talent.   He was generous, and would have given his friends the proverbial shirt off his back. He was quick with a smile, frequent with his laughter and because he didn't take life too seriously, he enjoyed it to the fullest.  He owned a boat and a guitar and was at peace with the world and the world with him - he thought. . .

. . .Until one early morning when his quiet life was shattered by the noise of Drug War cops bursting loudly and aggressively into his home and the homes of seven others in the small coastal town of Merritt Island, Florida. They found no drugs, but it didn't matter.  They were sanctioned by the system to coerce the most frightened of the seven (who was also the youngest) to snitch on the richest, and Gary Waid's life suddenly ceased to be his own.

Gary Waid had never been in trouble with 'the law' in all his 40-something years, had never hurt a soul, but the prohibitive marijuana laws in our country swept Gary into the arms of the human warehousing system in one quick stroke.

Under the duress of Feds threatening to charge his aged and ill mother, Gary did what most people do in that situation:  He took a plea bargain and received a nine year mandatory minimum sentence.

He resigned himself to doing his time.  For the first five years he was a model Federal prisoner.  The stories he wrote from the federal level were a new view of other prisoner's crimes and motivations.  He shares these first 'Smuggler's Tales' with you here...

But then the Feds made a deal with Florida:  "We'll trade you 30 model prisoners, non-violent drug offender types, won't be no problem to you, and you give us 30 of those murderin' Cuban 'Murial Boat People'.'   It wasn't just the luck of the draw:  Gary was singled out for cruel and unusual punishment because of his good record and non-violent crime.

As soon as the Feds dumped  the unfortunate prisoners at NFRC aka Butler CI aka RMC and drove off, they were lined up against the wall naked so Florida guards could walk along slapping them up 'side the head.

"Whacha gonna do now, Fed boys?" They taunted. "You fuck up in Florida, we take you 'cross the street' and beat you." And it didn't take long for Gary to find out they meant what they said.

From the 'belly-of-the-beast' he cried out desperately, "My God!  They're beating people in here!  They're going to kill someone if they aren't stopped!"

INMATE MOVED AFTER WRITING ACCUSATORY LETTERS
Miami Herald Article on Gary B. Waid
https://www.angelfire.com/la/kaylee/herald.html

Why am I in a State Prison Anyway?   Gary's Letters and Bio

The Newest Adventure    River Junction Geriatric Prison

GARY WAID'S CASE AGAINST THE DOC - DENIED