In an essay for the Washington Post Magazine, John reflects on difficult it is to say sorry to victims and their families, and how those words may mean everything and still not be enough.
EXCERPT
I first began to think about making amends around 2012, in a 12-step group at Attica Correctional Facility, a New York prison infamous for a 1971 uprising in which state troopers, local police and guards fired more than 400 rounds in the yard, hitting 128 people and killing 39. My sponsor was a 60-something Jewish banker who was NBA tall and had been volunteering in prisons for more than 20 years. He knew my ego, knew it cloaked my shame, knew that I wanted to be better. He’d say, “John, to thine own self be true.” A jailhouse tattoo artist inked the quote from “Hamlet” on my arm.
My sponsor urged me to list my resentments and fears and the people I had harmed. When I asked him about getting right with my guilt about the murder and contacting Alex’s family, he advised against it. Some wrongs we could never fully make right, he told me. I could make indirect amends, by “mending my ways”: Stay sober. Help others. One day, maybe write the family a letter.
Read the full story at the Washington Post.