Perfect Murder, Perfect Town - Lawrence Schiller [88]
The usual practice in Boulder is this: If you didn’t commit the crime with a gun or a knife, and if you have no prior criminal record, you’re likely to end up with a misdemeanor charge the first time around.
There’s not a scrap of evidence that this agreement was reached because a liquor license was involved. They did for Elowsky what they have done for many other defendants, and what any competent, reasonable district attorney’s office should do: They treated him as a human being.
In 1996, according to prosecutors’ records, 65 of 151 menacing cases involved defendants who, like Elowsky, had no prior record and didn’t use a gun or knife. All 65 resulted in misdemeanor menacing charges.
You can argue that the usual practice is a mistake. You can argue that it was a mistake in Elowsky’s case even if it was the right call in 65 others. But the only way to back up the charge that Elowsky’s case was tainted by favoritism is to ignore relevant facts.
Elowsky received a year’s probation and was required to spend two weekends on a Boulder County Jail work crew performing community service.
Back in ’90, I met CU’s football coach, Bill McCartney. I knew he was a religious man. I’d read his book, and I went and heard him speak. He was talking about men who give up their souls for financial gain. That sounded like me. I had been raised a Lutheran, but I was still living an immoral life while trying to find something. What do they say? I was burning the candle at both ends. Then one day I dropped to my knees. My heart literally gave out. I’d had a heart attack.
Coach Mac was there when I needed him. He made a vow to me that he would see me once a week to guide me to Christian maturity. And he kept his promise. Nothing happens overnight. It took years for me to change. I always knew about God, but I never pursued a relationship with Him. Mac was somebody who could teach me how to do that. Mac was Moses to me. He sought God’s heart and commands and taught those to me. He taught them to a lot of football teams. Now, through the Promise Keepers, he’s teaching them to men all over the world.
Earlier in 1992, I met John Ramsey. He was moving his business to Boulder and came into the restaurant quite often. He became interested in my place. Said he’d like to open a restaurant like mine in Atlanta. Something that could be franchised. I said to myself, Boy, that is exactly what I want to do. I want to be the next McDonald’s! I showed him the kitchen. Took him to my other place, in Breckenridge.
John is a gentle man, very soft-spoken. Very smart. He started an operation in his basement in Atlanta and built it into a billion-dollar business in less than ten years. I was, like, thirty when I met him. And someone like him was interested in what I was doing. Blew me away. I said, Holy cow, this is someone I can learn from. When I had my heart attack, after my surgery he flew me to Michigan so I could recover at the home of my parents.
John’s a great family guy. And we talked about that. “The second time around,” he said, “you know, it’s great. It’s really great.” He enjoyed his kids. It was never rush here or rush there or the kids are taking too long to get ready, the kids are taking too long to eat. None of that. He was just enjoying the moment. He is a man with a lot of patience.
He was also, like, a business consultant to me. We’d discuss how to plan and structure growth. Ramsey gave me a lot of time, and he wasn’t even a partner. Then John and Mike Bynum set up an advisory board for me, which included eight high-powered businesspeople. Our mission was to make Pasta Jay’s grow.
I started to try to be like them. I knew I had a good product. The sauce was the key. You could put my sauce on dog food and people would eat it.
In 1996 my lease ended; I had to move. For a while, I scrambled. By then I’d opened four other places, and the Boulder place was carrying them, supplying all the expansion money. But I had to close Boulder, and I had to pay vendors and meet payroll. I had a sense of impending doom.