A Very Difficult Day May Finally Bring Peace to Many

About fourteen years ago, I was going to college and working at a Blockbuster Video in the Casa Linda area of Dallas, Texas. Like any college job the pay wasn't great, but the hours were flexible, and I got to watch movies while at work. Who wouldn't dig that? I had absolutely no idea that job, and the kindness of one young man in particular, would allow me the life that I have today, and the life that I have remaining on this Earth.

It all started with a robbery on Easter weekend.

I don't remember what time we closed the store every night, but it was late. Midnight, maybe one. So, for twenty-six-year old assistant manager James Armstrong and twenty-year-old Brad Lindsey, it is safe to say they were ready to call it a night and go home after a long day of work. The store had just opened, and like anything new, we did alot of business in those first few weeks and months.

I don't remember how long I had worked there, a month maybe two. Brad had only been hired a couple of weeks earlier.

I know what happened because I've seen the surveillance tape. About closing time, a piece of shit named Leon Dorsey, walked through the door. He pulled a gun and managed to get a little less than $400 from the cash register. He then marched James and Brad into the back office, where the safe was kept. Neither man knew the combination.

I don't know how long Dorsey kept James and Brad in that backroom. I heard that it was in the neighborhood of two hours. Dorsey kept insisting that they open the safe, and James kept insisting they didn't have the combination.

I knew none of this when I woke up on Monday, April 4. I had breakfast and then headed off to class. This is 1994 remember, and I didn't have a cell phone. I had a pager, though, and it started going off early and often in my 9:00 am class. It got so bad, that I had to actually leave class. I called a buddy of mine, Tyler, who was responsible for several of the pages.

"Dude, are you okay?" I thought it was a trick question. "Of course, I'm okay. Why the hell is everybody paging me this morning?"

Then he told me. I sank down to the floor. I have never felt so empty, so utterly vacant. I couldn't move, react, speak. I managed to get out, "I'll call you back," barely.

I immediately got into my car and headed to my Dad's office, which was less than a mile from the store.

Dorsey, frustrated with his inability to get into the safe, finally shot Brad and Scott, killing both of them. Then he left the store. The fucking coward shot Brad in the back.

When I got to my Dad's office that morning, I will never forget the look on his face. He knew.

You see, I had been scheduled to work that day, but my Dad had asked if I could get off to spend Easter with my family. My boss told me it was fine with him if I could find someone to cover my shift. I asked Brad. He was such a nice guy, he didn't even hesitate. "Just pick up one of my shifts next week, and we'll call it even." I never got that chance.

Brad died in my place. He died doing a favor for me.

It was extremely difficult at first. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and seeing Brad standing in my bedroom. It wasn't menacing. It was almost like he was there to tell me that he was okay, that WE were okay. I had a lot of guilt that first year. But, like anything, the pain and the memories fade after a while, though I have never forgotten Brad, nor will I.

I don't want to gloss over the fact that I believe that everything in life happens for a reason. I do believe that. I live by that. Without it, my life is just a random series of meaningless, unconnected events. Maybe some people are okay with that belief system, but not for me. I like my life to have symmetry and unity. I need to believe that every event and every person in my life are there for a reason, as I am in their lives. Yet, still I am human. And while I know that I was left here for a particular reason, as Brad was taken for a particular reason, I still carry the guilt. It is human nature.

Early yesterday morning, I got a call from a family member about the article in the Dallas Morning News, and as soon as I read it, all of those emotions came rushing back. Not for Dorsey, I lost track of the case around 1996, when according to the police, the case had gone cold, so I didn't even know they had convicted him. My emotions were for the memory of two guys who were just trying to do their jobs, and who ended up dying because of it. My emotions were and are for my friends and their families.

Brad, I am so sorry, man. All you did was a favor for me, and it cost you your life. I know there are reasons this happened, but it doesn't help assuage the guilt of knowing that you lost your life, and I'm still here. I haven't always used the extra time I've been given to the best of my ability, but I try every day to be a better son, brother, friend, and man. You've always been on my shoulder, my friend. And when we meet in the next life , I hope that you will be satisfied with how I've spent the life I have gained from your generosity.


I pray that this will finally bring to a close a very long period of remorse and guilt for every person whose life was affected by this horrific event, myself included.