This book is dedicated to the ones who have been instrumental in changing Ricky’s life.

First, to God by whom all things are made possible.

Second, to Jeannie who has stuck by Ricky through thick and thin.

And finally, to every person in the field of law enforcement and criminal corrections- those who helped Ricky lose his old life and find his new one.

Jesus said, “For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.”

(Matthew 16:25 NKJ)

Ricky Sinclair

“Busted”

“Man, look at all the cops! They’re everywhere! We’ve got to get out of here! Man, go! Go! Go! Go!”

“Where to, Ricky?”

“I don’t know! Man… I’m busted! Did you see all those cops?”

Well, that was the situation when I arrived at my house in West Feliciana Parish one afternoon in 1986. Swat teams, state police, surveillance teams, and local police had kicked my door down, and they weren’t playing. I had sold some pot to a friend of mine that morning, but had no idea that he was in trouble with the law. He was looking at some time, and had consequently made a deal. The deal was that he was turning state’s evidence and the evidence was my dope. I had been smuggling drugs out of Mexico for many years and the West Feliciana police wanted me badly. When I arrived at my house and saw all the commotion, I hit the road running.

I went to a friend’s house to regroup, to develop a plan and, of course, to get high. The

plan was to sneak back home at midnight to get Jeannie, my wife, and Stirling, my one year old son. Yeah, this will be cool. We’ll move and I’ll use my alias, James Louis Winnfield. I traded my Chevy truck for a green T-Bird and then sent word to Jeannie that I would be coming to get her. I felt confident that this would work.

That night I carried out the plan. It did work. Jeannie was packed and ready. We were off and running. We went to Baton Rouge and rented a motel room. I made a few phone calls and hooked up with a couple of my buddies down there. I needed their help; we needed somewhere to stay for a while.

Later, four or five of my friends showed up at our motel room. We partied: drank, got high, got the munchies. We were really hungry, but there wasn’t anything to eat. So, my buddies and I decided to run up to the local Taco Bell.

We left Jeannie and Stirling at the motel. We piled into my green T- Bird and lit out for the grub. John drove. We parked at the 7-11 store next door to the Taco Bell. We were almost through burning a doobie when a guy, a friend of one of my buddies, walked up and leaned in the window. The next second we were surrounded by undercover narcotics agents. It happened so fast.

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After

I want to take a few minutes to introduce the main character of this story. His name is Ricky Sinclair. I knew Ricky about 20 years ago when we attended school together in Woodville, Mississippi. Although I had heard some things about him over the years, I hadn’t seen Ricky since those early school days. A mutual friend of ours told me that Ricky had been saved. In February 1996, 1 decided to stop by his house in Wakefield, Louisiana, for a visit. He answered the door saying, “Hey! How are you doing? How about Jesus?”

Needless to say, Ricky Sinclair is a Christian well, needless to anyone who has seen Ricky in the last 10 years. Prior to his experience with Jesus 10 years ago, Ricky Sinclair was everything but a Christian. This book takes you on a journey through his life: drugs, jail, escape from jail, return to jail, his life changing salvation experience, prison, and some post conversion life experiences.

Ricky has been a great friend to me. He is truly one of those friends that I can count on one hand. I am certain that God has put us back together for a reason, and I know that this book is a large part of that reason. I was unemployed in February when I stopped by to see Ricky. He was a great encouragement to me. I went to church with him the next day, and he urged me to become a part of their congregation. Ricky also teaches Bible study in his home, and I soon became a regular part of their group. Within a couple of months, he had secured me a job with his employer in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. In June he helped me pack up and move to Baton Rouge.

Continue reading “After” →