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Center for Public Integrity Open Secrets Public Campaign The Century Foundation
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  When Jeff was 23, he was living in a friend's warehouse who allowed Jeff's band to play there in return for making sure the business wasn't broken into at night. One night, Jeff stayed over at a friend's where they were having a get together. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he found an old family Bible and, having been raised in a Christian home, decided to take a look at what was inside. As he began going through the Bible, he decided to look at the book of Genesis since he had never read it before. As he began reading the account of the creation in the beginning of the book, the page lit up all of the sudden and a voice said, "This is where the power is.". Jeff was awed by what happened. He literally said "wow" when this happened. All of the sudden, he "understood" for the first time that God had actually made everything. Jeff immediately knew that God was getting his attention. He had been raised in a Christian family, and, many of his family members were pastors and church pioneers, and people of faith. Jeff knew he couldn't ignore this. Something powerful had happened, and, it got his attention. That same day, Jeff quit the band he was in, told his friends he had become a Christian, and quit drinking and fighting. Shortly thereafter, Jeff began attending Santa Rosa Christian Church where he had attended Sunday School when he was younger. He enrolled in a ministry house where he lived for awhile before moving into an apartment with other single Christians. In one second, Jeff's life had radically changed. He had heard the call from God, and, answered it. Before this, Jeff had been involved in many questionable activities, with many questionable people. Jeff had become addicted to meth when he was 16, and, was living on the streets and caught up in gang life by the time he was 18. You can read the rest of Jeff's incredible life story below, and in other area's of the site.
There were side-effects to using the drug. Meth blocks certain signals from the body to the brain, one being the feeling of being hungry. I wouldn't eat for days on end. The drug also causes users to stay awake for nights on end which I did frequently. The withdrawals were the worst. If I ran out of the drug, feelings of depression would be on me for days. The desire to get more was very powerful. When I was using meth, I felt good. When I wasn't, it felt like the world was ending. A few months after I began to use speed (another name for methamphetamine), it ate through the inside of my nose, and ruptured a blood vessel. I was walking through a field by our house on my way to the store when it happened. I remember a rush of something warm going down my throat, and spitting up something that looked like a blob of grape jelly. As I walked back towards home, my nose began bleeding profusely. When I got home, I tried everything to stop the bleeding. I filled part of the bathroom sink, a handtowel, and, probably a half roll of paper towels with blood. As time went on, my clothes became covered with blood. I called one of my friends from school, and, he came over and told me to lean my head back while laying on a couch. That only filled my sinuses with blood, and, I wasn't able to breath through my nose. I began to get panicked because it had been an hour since my nose started bleeding, and, it wasn't letting up at all. There was a constant flow coming out of my nose, not like a dripping nose bleed, it was more like an endless stream. My friend left, and, I began pacing on the front walkway of our house. The walkway became covered with blood not long after. The dried blood covering my face was so thick, it was hard to make an expression. It seemed like I had dried wax all over my face. After about an hour and a half, I started to lose consciousness. I couldn't stand on my feet anymore without blacking out, so, I began crawling on my hands and knees. A neighbor saw me, and said, "man, poor kid," but did nothing to help. I had been too afraid to call for help, because, I believed that I would get into trouble with my parents. I continued to crawl across my parent's front walk. I believe I began praying for help at that point. My older step-brother pulled up in the driveway. It had been 2 hours since I first spat up the coagulated blood in the field on the way to the store from my parent's house. Chris (my step-brother) saw me, and, the blood all over the front walk, and said, "that's it.. I'm calling an ambulance" ( Chris had been home about an hour prior to this, when he came back, he was in shock that I was still bleeding and hadn't gotten help). The ambulance showed up. I asked the paramedic if I was going to live, to which he replied, "I don't know." I'm pretty sure he was trying to scare me as I told them why I was bleeding from the nose so profusely. At the hospital the Doctors cauterized the blood vessel closed. When I woke up, I walked home, blood still covering my clothes. Being a shy person, my time was taken up with astronomy, computers, and, electronics rather than your typical high school socializing. I saw "meth" as the cure for "shyness," thus my use of the drug continued. In the public school system, their was always an abundance of illegal drugs available, so, getting "some" wasn't a problem. Fast forward. Early in my 18th year, I ended up living on the streets. Sleeping in broken down cars, half-built buildings, on creek beds, and various other places not designed for habitation, I learned quickly how to survive "without." I lived on and off the streets for a period of about 1 1/2 to 2 years. Once you are caught in the circle, it is VERY difficult to get out.
 Later, while still 18, my friend and I got an apartment. My
drug habit continued, and, I found it a "fun" (to me at the
time) business venture to provide the drug for sale to friends, and, to,
friends of friends. It was very lucrative, and, provided me with
quantities of the drug for personal use. Upon my desire to cut out the
middle man in order to maximize profits, the "big boys" (big boys being
the top dogs in the California meth trade) stepped in to make sure that I
was "cool" to go a step up in the business. After that, it became,
well, "un-fun". No longer being a game, I was informed by certain people
that, I would be "observed" for a time to insure that I wasn't a
government informant, or a "narc." I was also informed that I was not to
tell anyone, even those I dealt with who were involved in the
production/distribution business, what I saw, or heard. Needless to say, I
wanted no part of the organization which seemed to be forcing themselves
on me. The "sales" business, was just something to do for kicks in my
eyes. Yet, to them, members of a multi-million dollar drug
industry, it was very serious. After failing a number of tests by the gang, I was put out of business. In the final month of my selling methamphetamine, I was bringing in about $8000 a month.
Not being the most cooperative person they had dealt with, I was informed that, if I didn't cooperate, the results could be disastrous. I believed that there was no way out at that point. During that period, I believed that I would be killed because I would not cooperate. I was indoctrinated in gang ways, saw everything that goes on in that culture, and, wanted no part of it. I have experienced more than most will ever in their lifetimes, yet, came out the ordeal as a fully productive, upstanding, and, law abiding citizen. I have been robbed, mugged, jumped, and threatened with death, lost everything, and then some. Medical costs for damage related to drug use cost (and is still costing) tens of thousands of dollars. Chronic cluster headaches (the worst known to science in terms of physical pain) during those years were completely debilitating, and, without medical attention, only exacerbated the situation. There is not time enough in the day to recount every story like the time I was sleeping in my car behind a grocery store, and, two lowlifes who looked as is they had just escaped from prison broke into my vehicle (they were trying to take parts off of my Mustang from under the hood (idiots)). Upon hearing them, I jumped out of my car with a closet dowel in hand, and, began shouting at them to "get the f* on the ground." One was in a car parked next to mine, and, began reaching for something (which I believed to be a handgun) under the seat. At that point I thought that I might be killed, and adrenaline shot through my body as I took the steps I thought necessary to survive. Moving towards him threateningly as if I were going to hit him in the face with the dowel, and, shouting even louder, he backed down. That was just a typical day in the lifestyle I was involved in. Life on the streets typically involves, going without. Eating is a luxury. I recall going up to three days at a time without eating. Not enough strength to do anything, you just kind of wonder where your next cold can of beans will come from. I never asked for a handout in all my time on the streets. I was of the mind that it was better to starve than to beg. For those in situations such as this, especially those who are younger such as I was, hope disappears, and, many end up taking their own lives, yet, I never gave up hope of getting out. Goals I had set earlier in life gave me something to strive and hope for AFTER this was all behind me. When I was 19, I stopped using meth completely. I told those involved in the trade that they were scumbags, and, that their lives were meaningless. My experiences with the "gang" had caused me to view those involved with intense hatred.
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Being born into the "somewhat" typical middle-class family, My parents
divorced when I was five years old. The courts appointed my father with my
custody. I attended church at least once a week with my father. I attended my
uncle's school from the 2nd to 8th grades at the Assemblies of God church
which he founded. After leaving private school, and, attending public school,
I was introduced to drugs. I "just said no" for about a year. A friend offered
me a line of methamphetamine at school one day. I didn't know what it was,
and, my friend said, "it'll make you feel good." That was the first time I tried
the drug "meth." I was 16 years old. I immediately fell in love with the drug.
I was extremely shy when I was younger, and, when I did meth, I wasn't shy
anymore. Wanting to be "normal" and have a social life in school, meth, or,
"crank" as it was called, became a crutch which I believed helped me
overcome my fear of meeting and talking to people. I began using the drug
whenever I could, and, sold it to my friends in order to continue using it.
That was 20 years ago. 
What happened then? I rehabilitated myself. No help groups, parents,
friends, God, or any other entities of notable mention were involved in
the re-creation of me. I set out to repair the damage, and, to become a
"normal," functioning citizen. I returned to school,
earning top scholastic honors, as well as national. I became involved in
politics, quickly becoming popular in certain circles for my outgoing
personality, charisma, and, ability to get the job done. During my
candidacy for Congress, I was well liked (and voted for) by persons of all
political persuasions. Dem., Repub., Independent, and, those in the minor
parties, all found my exposes on the failure of politicians to be
thoroughly refreshing and candid. I was elected as the Vice-Chair, and then the Chairman of the RPCA, gained a seat on the National Committee of the RPUSA where I was elected as national party building chairman. I pushed hard for the endorsement of Ralph Nader so the party would once again be in the news which succeeded wonderfully. I am frequently invited to speak on
behalf of the party at economic forums, functions at the state capitol,
and various other political events. To be continued. 2-04-05