Guilty With Krispy Kreme Money

After John Jefferson robbed a Krispy Kreme Doughnut store in Kingsport, Tennessee, in 1999, he bought dope. But he couldn’t enjoy it because he was plagued with guilt. Months later, even after moving to Kansas, the guilt remained. So Jefferson decided to confess.

Jefferson called Detective David Cole of the Kingsport Police Department and identified himself as the robber. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” Jefferson said in an interview. “I was sick and tired of the way I was living. I didn’t want to die in a crack house, and I didn’t want to smoke crack anymore.”

After pleading guilty, Jefferson served a six-year sentence. Upon his release, he tried several times to return to the Krispy Kreme store and repay the money he had stolen, but he kept turning around before he could get there. Finally, Jefferson called David Cole again and asked him to accompany him to the store. Though he had stolen $300, Jefferson returned $400 to the robbery victim, who asked him to donate the money to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

“I felt like a million bucks when I walked out of that place,” Jefferson said.

 — “What Goes Around, Comes Around,” FoxNews.com (December 21, 2005)

True Forgiveness For Those Who Humble Themselves

Mark Strand tells of an experience that occurred following his first year of college.  His dad and mom had left for vacation, and Mark wrecked their pickup truck, crumpling the passenger-side door.  Returning home, he parked the truck.  When his dad returned home and saw the damage, Mark acted surprised and denied any knowledge of the accident.  Mr. Strand then asked the hired man about it, and to Mark's delight, the man admitted he was responsible.  He had heard a loud noise while passing the truck with the wings of the cultivator up, and now he assumed he had caused the damage.

But the weeks that followed were torturous as Mark struggled with his guilty conscience.  He repeatedly considered telling the truth, but was afraid.  Finally one day he impulsively blurted it out.

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yes?"

"You know that pickup door?  I was the one who did it."

Dad looked at me.  I looked back at him.  For the first time in weeks I was able to look him in the eyes as the topic was broached.  To my utter disbelief, Dad calmly replied, "I know."

Silent seconds, which seemed like hours, passed.  Then dad said, "Let's go eat."  He put his arm around my shoulder, and we walked to the house, not saying another word about it.  Not then, not ever.

- Mark Strand, "I Couldn't Forget That Door," Decision (December 1996)

Keeping Each Other Afloat

In Guideposts magazine Donald Vairin of Oceanside, California, told of serving as a young hospital corpsman in the invasion of Guam during World War II.  Suddenly his boat came to a grinding halt.  They had hit a coral reef, and the commanding officer ordered everyone off the ship.

Donald jumped into the ocean and sank like a rock, his carbine rifle, medical pack, canteen, and boots dragging him down.  He forced himself to the surface, gasping for air, only to sink again.  He tried to pull off his boots, but the effort exhausted him, and he suddenly realized he wasn't going to make it.

Just then he saw a man thrashing in the water next to him, and in desperation he clutched onto him.  That proved enough to hold him up and get him to the reef where he was picked up by a rescue boat.  But Donald felt so guilty about grabbing the drowning man to save himself that he never told anyone what had happened.

About six months later, on shore leave in San Francisco, he stopped in a restaurant.  A sailor in uniform waved him over to sit with him, and as he did so he announced to his friends, "This is my buddy.  He saved my life."

"What are you talking about?" asked Donald.

"Don't you remember," said the man.  "We were in the water together at Guam.  You grabbed on to me.  I was going down, and you held me up."

- Donald Vairin, "His Mysterious Ways," Guideposts (September 1999)