After sentencing, Ryan had to report immediately to a probation officer, who told him he wouldn't be able to attend his son's birth or live in the same house with him. He made a frantic call to his lawyer, who reassured him an emergency motion would be filed that would allow him to live with his son. Then the probation officer said he had to fit Ryan with an ankle monitor, and Ryan felt he'd been sucker punched—the judge hadn't mentioned anything about that, either. Ryan would have to pay $240 a month to wear the monitor, the officer told him. He made less than a thousand a month. How were he and Amber and the baby going to survive?
At eight o'clock that night, another probation officer met with Ryan and Amber at the house in Lacoochee. The meeting started out badly, with the P.O. telling Ryan, "Eighty percent of the people on your type of probation fail and go to prison." He went on to say that if Ryan didn't get permission from the judge, either he or Amber and the baby would have to find somewhere else to live. And even if the judge let them all live together, Ryan still wouldn't be able to take his son anyplace where other kids would be—no trips to the playground, no picking him up at school when the time came, no Chuck E. Cheese's, no Little League games.
But Ryan had a more immediate problem, one that was going to get him thrown into prison. He didn't have mail service—the house in Lacoochee didn't even have a mailbox—and he needed two pieces of mail in order to obtain an ID that reflected his status as a sex offender. The P.O. told him that, by law, he had forty-eight hours to fix this, to get mail delivered to a house without a mailbox in an area that had no mail service. All of Ryan's pleading for more time left the P.O. unmoved. "That's your all's problem," he told them. As he left the house that night, he said, "I'll be back in forty-eight hours to arrest you." He said it without heat, almost casually. Just like that, Ryan was going to be locked away for fifteen years. Just like that, his life was over. Really over, because Ryan was sure he wouldn't survive his sentence: "People like me get stabbed in prison, we get beat to death." The way he figured it, he had forty-eight hours left to live.
He can't spend any time near kids, so he goes on a rampage...
He could have committed involuntary manslaughter (and their weekend activities don't make it sound unlikely) -- and they still would have done the same stupid shit.
Nice story, but those kids were all dumb as a post. They can't get mail service at their house? Anyone can get a P.O.B. The probation officer doesn't make the call, the worst he can do is send them to court, the judge decides and usually they will bend to an impossible situation.
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