Did I kill Big Jim?

I've been battling myself these last several days, which I consider better than the suffocating depression that lifted some after the Dr. increased my Tegretol dose by 50%.



Some of the color has come back into the world for me, but it's a double edged sword, it comes at a price. I still feel worthless, I still have suicidal thoughts, and am still vulnerable to attack, but (for now) I am able to defend myself, it's worthwhile when I catch myself enjoying things again.



But like they say nothing good comes without a price, self doubt was planted in me the other night after I posted a story about an accident I had in 2001.
Here's a link to the thread where the story appears;
http://fuckedforum.com/bbs/show_last_reply/29094#msg_308400
It's the 1st post in the thread.

I was ultimately found not responsible for either death by the authorities, I still hold myself responsible. A response in that thread started me thinking about culpability (shared responsibility for an event), it made me think about Big Jim and how he died, it made me wonder if I share responsiblity for his death, or if I alone am responsible ( I briefly reference Big Jim's murder in "The Good Ol' Days" entry in this blog).

Here's the whole story of Big Jim's murder, you decide for yourself and let me know what you think by commenting on this blog entry.

Big Jim was a driver for a rival company, both of his sons worked for me (yes they were twins, Not so Big Jim jr. & Medium Nate) and the plan was for him to come work for me as soon as I had an opening.
Big Jim and the twins were fixtures at the 'Country Boy's Social Hour' as most of us called it.

Big Jim was a legend, after 21 years as a cop, he was shot in the line of duty serving a warrant on a drug dealer and forced to take a medical retirement. When he died he'd been a cabbie for 14 years, he was 57 years old when he was killed.

His twin sons, Not so Big Jim Jr. and Medium Nate didn't fall far from the tree, both had been Phoenix police officers, following in there dad's footsteps. Both were forced to take medical pensions only 4 months apart. Nate was hit by a Fed Ex van during a foot pursuit and Jim's cruiser was hit by a drunk driver. Both followed dad into cab driving to supplement their medical pensions.
Nate came to me first, bringing Jim in a few months later. Big Jim liked the way I did things and was going to defect from Discount Cab as soon as I brought up another car.

One misty night in Febuary 2000, we were stacked 5 deep at the 1st & Monroe cab stand, waiting for the foot traffic from the Suns game. I was 1st up on the queue(sp?) with Big Jim second and the twins behind us along with a mexican cab.
The four of us were 'logged off' at the stand, standing outside smoking and joking, when 2 guys approached from the direction of the arena.
My cell rang just as they arrived, one of my stripper personals, I shined 'em on to Big Jim so I could run my personal call. I promised him a good call later as we got in our cabs.

The next time I saw him he was dead.

Nate called me a half hour later, Big Jim was missing in the area of 40th street and Thomas road.
My heart jumped into my throat, I'd just dropped my fare at 32nd street & Washington so i wheeled the cab around and hauled ass 4 miles northeast to the search area.

I knew what I'd find, dozens of cabs, from every company in town, crawling all over the area like ants on a chocalate bar, so thick that they were almost hitting each other, but not a single cop.

Jim was found by a Yellow cab 30 minutes later, his cab butted up against a light pole, he was slumped over the wheel, shot at least three times in the back and head, the meter still running, the car still running and in gear. I knew the guys I passed him at the stand were the killers.

The cops arrived to find cabs lining both sides of the street in every direction as far as the eye could see, and Jim's sons standing with me in the circle of light.
The rage in the air that night, I've never witnessed anything like it.

The police never found a suspect, we doubted that there was a whole lot of effort made.
A cabbie just isn't important enough to make any real effort, not since the Jason Schecterlie incident.

The boys claim that they didn't blame me, I believed them , but I blame myself.


Nate and Jim both quit soon after, opting to work for their uncle installing security systems, Nate was killed by a drunk driver in 2004, Not so Big Jim was paralyzed after being shot in the back during a home invasion robbery in 2007.

Did I kill Big Jim?

We'll talk again,
-The Greeter

DENIED!

Well life sucks, that's not exactly any kind of earth shattering new information, more like,
"This just in; Sun sets in the west!"

Last Friday life got, well suckier, Disability denied my claim. This was my appeal after being denied once already.

So now I'm looking for work, I hear that Wal*Mart's hiring :o), hey, I've already got the clothes :o(

I have no doubt that blood would be spilled if I went back. Best case scenario, just mine, but there's a real possibility that I'd take someone (someones) with me.
Probably not a great idea.

I live in a small town, having fled Phoenix, barely escaping with my life. Another year there would definitely have killed me.

If I'd stayed in Phoenix there would be more jobs, but also perhaps 100 times more competition for them, here there are fewer jobs, and I'm not qualified for most of them, my physical disabilities preclude me from the rest.
I'm fucked either way.
I still think I made the right decision leaving the big city for the small town, if I have to be sitting somewhere fucked, I'm better off being here, where I can relax, in Phoenix my fear of crowded places made even grocery shopping an extremely unpleasent experience.


Mrs. Greeter is working 60 + hours a week to almost support us while I sit around on my ass crying. It's been almost a month since I listed anything on ebay, I'm running out of things to sell and truthfully, I'm sick of people getting my prized possessions for almost nothing then bitching that the postage is too high. I need to put some stuff up soon though.

My work on my book is stalled because I just can't seem to get excited about anything.

I hope I can pull out of my funk pretty soon.

The meds numb this and dull that, but I still have the bad thoughts, I think about death a lot. Only Mrs. Greeter and my desire to live long enough to keep my brother from getting my share of our small inheritence keep me interested in breathing.

I'm not real excited about the money (I don't know how much it'll be or when it'll come), I just don't want him to get it. For whatever reason my mother stated if either of us died before the inheritence is paid the surviving sibling gets the other's share. She made no provision for our spouses. I know he would leave my wife hanging, if he were to pass(God forbid), I'd see that his wife got his share, that seems only fair to me.

I'm gonna go for now, I just thought I'd update the blog.

Hopefully the next update will be a little more entertaining.

Until next time,
-The Greeter