Flight
Whip:addressing a prison counseling group] That was it. I was finished. I was done. It was as if I had reached my lifelong limit of lies. I could not tell one more lie. And maybe I'm a sucker. Because if I had told just one more lie, I could've walked away from all that mess and kept my wings, kept my false sense of pride. And more importantly, I could've avoided being locked up in here with all you nice folks for the last thirteen months. But I'm here. And I'll be here for at least the next four or five years. And that's fair. I betrayed the public trust. I did. That's how the judge explained it to me. I had betrayed the public trust. The FAA, they took away my pilot's license. And that's fair. My chances of ever flying again are slim to none. And I accept that. I've had a lot of time to think about it, all of it. I've been doing some writing. I wrote letters to each of the families that had lost loved ones. Some of them were able to hear my apology. Some of them never will. I also apologized to all the people that tried to help me along the way, but I couldn't or wouldn't listen. People like my wife, you know. My ex-wife and, uh, my son. And again, like I said, you know, some of them will never forgive me. Some of them will. But at least I'm sober. I thank God for that. I'm grateful for that. And this is gonna sound real stupid coming from a man who's locked up in prison, but for the first time in my life, I'm free.