untitled
viviti
I have several interviews that will eventually be put on this page but for now, I'll have to suffice it with this one. Again, it's potty humored in some spots but it goes with the story.
The second interview is a favorite of mine. Lots of innuendo. Be sure to read between the lines.

Interviews

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My Freelance Vacation: Caroling with a Felon

 

By Corey Harris

 

            Before my impromptu trip to South Carolina, I had never heard of a little town called Betwixt, nor did I know that Betwixt harbored Crestar Penitentiary, one of the South’s most fabled, infamous prisons, and a thirty-four year-old man accused of terrorism who was little known until after the events of September 11th.

 

In 1994, Mark Anderson was convicted of planning and executing an attack on a supposedly vacant federal building near his hometown of Columbia, S.C. He and an accomplice were sentenced to 298 years in prison as punishment for the damaged government property and the deaths of 25 bystanders and 11 maintenance workers. Just recently, however, in response to the public’s growing cry for blood, Mr. Anderson’s sentence has been revised. He is now at the beginning of the line for execution.

 

 Upon my arrival to Betwixt, I was escorted to the home of Mrs. Anderson, where she lives, not too far from the prison, with their eight and a half year- old son, Zachary. She was as surprised as I was that her husband agreed to let me interview him. In the last nine years, he has refused all interviews and has had little contact with the outside world.

 

I met with Mr. Anderson in a fairly vacant observation room. There were two heavy chairs; a long, steel table sat between us. A prison guard monitored the room from the outside.

 

Mr. Anderson was at least 6’2 and had a neat, muscular appearance and startlingly intelligent blue eyes. Immediately, I knew that this would not be a run-of-the-mill interview. Instead of allowing me a typical-reporter style opening question, he spoke first.

 

Anderson: (smirking) You’re not a real reporter, are you? No one in their right mind would send something as green as you to interview a convicted maniac.

 

Harris:   Not usually. I am what you get today, though. And as for being a real reporter, I’m what you would call freelance.

 

Anderson: Good. I don’t talk to the big boys. Now what’s it you wanna know? And don’t bore me. When I tried to do one of these before, the old guy bored me to tears.

 

Harris: I’ll try to keep it interesting, but I have to hit the perfunctory issues first. How do you feel about the recent sentence exchange you’ve undergone?

 

Anderson: It’s some of the stupidest [crap] I’ve ever heard of. I sort of expected it- I mean, initially, but when they put me in here till the Rapture, I got comfortable with the idea of my insides withering away slowly, as I try to feel sorry about what I did.

 

Harris: Do you ever feel guilty about it?

 

Anderson: (glares)

 

Harris: You set yourself up for that one.

 

Anderson: Suit yourself. No.

 

Harris: In all honesty.

 

Anderson: Well, - I guess I wish that no one died. I’ll spare you the aggravation of having to ask, “If you had the chance, would you do it again.” No. I may be a smart—s but I’m definitely not a dumb one.

 

Harris: What is your biggest regret about committing this crime, besides getting caught, of course?

 

Anderson: Well, other than getting caught, I regret dragging Liana into this. I regret never being able to see my son. They won’t let me see my son, Corey. I got this one picture of him in my cell, and it’s about 2 years old.

 

Harris: You were incarcerated before the birth?

 

Anderson: Yeah. My lawyer tried to stall but the vicious b—tards rushed the [darn] trial. Plus the kid was late. I missed the birth by about a month.

 

Harris: How unfortunate. Do you want to talk about your son or would you prefer I move on?

 

Anderson: I don’t know enough about him to tell you anything.

 

Harris: What about your wife? How did you two meet?

 

Anderson: In college. Yes, I did attend. We hung out in some of the same circles, had a lot of the same friends. We went to med school together and would have had some kind of joint practice if I wouldn’t have screwed up.

 

Harris: You went to medical school?

 

Anderson: That’s what I said. Let me guess. Up until now I was a maniacal backwoods idiot that probably dropped high school, didn’t dream of college, let alone med school, but just up and decided one day, “Hey! There’s a buildin’ that needs levelin’. Hey [name withheld[i]]! Let’s go an’ blow it up! Ev’ry one knows ya luv ta play wit’ matches!”

 

Harris: I’ll admit that there is some confusion surrounding your personal details, Mr. Anderson, but that is because you declined or did not cooperate on all previous attempts to clear up those misconceptions.

 

Anderson: Clear up misconceptions? You mean help reporters create their own! Once the last guy got past his droll Name-Age-Date-of-Birth [crap], he tried to get all hard-edged.

            (Mimicking reporter voice) “Mr. Anderson, you have a new wife whose life you have ruined. What can you say for yourself?” “How would you feel if one of your loved ones- say, your wife or mother- were killed in a malicious attack on a well-loved government symbol?”

            First of all, you do not bring a man’s mother into this kind of thing! That was ridiculously low below the belt. (Rolls eyes)

Secondly, no one was supposed to get killed! I know that means nothing to those whose loved ones did die, but that’s the closest I can get to an apology without sounding trite.

Anyway, he kept on pulling bulls—t questions out of his hat, so I told him to kiss my cold-blooded, white-criminal [toosh] and get out, which he did not take well and did not include in his article, as a matter of fact.

 

Harris: Ah, I see. So if I wanted to keep away from “droll” and bull questions, what questions would I ask you or what topics would I stay away from?

 

Anderson: None about mass murder, court decisions, and dropping the soap.

 

Harris: Darn. Now I have to wing it.

Do you pay attention to politics and national issues nowadays?

 

Anderson: Yeah.

 

Harris: So how do you feel about the September 11th crisis?

 

Anderson: You see, that’s just what [name withheld] and I were protesting: A lack of national security. We knew that if a couple of college grads could take out an obscure government building after just a few months of planning, trained assassins could come in and decimate us any time they wanted to.

            That September 11th [crap] makes me wish we never did it.

 

Harris: Why?

 

Anderson: ‘Cause some people never learn, no matter how harsh the lesson is. ‘Cause in a couple weeks it’ll be Christmas and I could be celebrating with my family instead of planning for my death. You know how long Liana and I were married before I got arrested?

 

Harris: How long?

 

Anderson: Four days. Four [freakin’] days. Someone called me on my honeymoon to tell me that the police were looking for me.

 

Harris: Forgive me for this, but I have to know: how goes the marital relationship since you’ve spent most of the marriage in prison?

 

Anderson: Well, it’s hard. I’ve told her on more than one occasion to divorce me and move on with her life, but she won’t hear of it. Just recently, some people held a marriage seminar here at the prison and she came. We got to renew our vows and she was in tears all over the place. It was the first time we touched since the trial.

 

Harris: Very emotional for you also, I assume.

 

Anderson: You could say that, especially because that corrupt ruling was already down by then. To know that she still has some kind of faith in our marriage, no matter how soon it will be over, means a lot to me.

 

Harris: You just used the word corrupt to describe the recent ruling. Can you explain that?

 

Anderson: Okay. Before the trial, I was saying that I did it by myself. Naturally, everyone knew I was lying, so the D.A. offers to commute my sentence if I tell them who helped me. I say no at first, but am eventually persuaded to do it. Instead of the death penalty or life I get 298 years, as does [name withheld]. Yeah, it’s a scam but it makes my wife feel a little better. I won’t be dying any time soon.

But now, the D.A. wants to say that they got [name withheld] without my help, which would mean that the deal is null and void. The sneaky b—tards are going to fry me- no, do it the humane way and dope me up, I guess- because everyone wants to make it look like America is strong as hell and won’t tolerate any acts of terrorism, especially those committed by American citizens. So much for equal rights and blind Lady Justice!

 

Harris: Interesting. Equal rights?

 

Anderson: Just because the times have called for harsher treatment of the recent terrorists, doesn’t mean that previously convicted people’s sentences should be tampered with and previous deals revoked, okay? Lady Justice needs to leave us alone.

 

Harris: I understand. Are you all right?

 

Anderson: No way, Corey.

(Pauses to gain composure) Man, I- I really don’t want to die, okay? I mean, I know what I deserve, what I’ve earned, but do I really have to be macho and acquiescent about it?

 

Harris: Absolutely not.

 

Anderson: This isn’t Hollywood, where everyone feels all hardcore and unrepentant. Most of us wish we’d never done our crimes. 

 

Harris: So, about dropping the soap…

 

Anderson: Okay, okay. I’ll try not to get sappy.

 

Harris: Deal. One more before they drag me out of here. As far as you know, is your sentence the only one that was changed due to the recent cry for the blood of terrorists?

 

Anderson: Hell, no. [name withheld]’s up for killin’ too.

(Sung to the tune of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”) The government actually caught us,

 And now they’re gonna kill us,

Wish us a Merry Christmas

And send our butt’s home stone dead.

“Ma’am here’s your [freakin’] husband,

I hope his body’s still warm,

So maybe you’ll still get some

Or better yet, drop dead too.”

 

Harris: You can always tell when a man has too much time on his hands.

 

Anderson: There’s a lot more where that came from. You should here the one I wrote to “Silent Night”.

(Singing) ‘Violent night, horny night, all is naked, all is female.

Radiant beams from her shapely [????].

Corey, can it get better than this?

If on-ly she-e were re-al! If o-only she-e were real!’

And of course there’s “Oh, Horny Night”.

 

Harris: Okay-


Anderson: ‘Fall, on your knees, oh, hear the prisoner’s-

 

Harris: (interrupting) It can only go downhill from there, I suspect.

 

Anderson: Naturally. But remember, this is an all- male facility. It could be a whole lot worse.

 

Harris: You have a point.

 Before I leave, I want to give you this card[ii].

 

Anderson: (sarcastically) You’re not gonna get me in any trouble, are you? They might just move my date up out of spite.

 

Harris: It’s authorized.

Can you read it aloud for the sake of print media?

 

Anderson: “Merry Christmas”- (reads remaining words silently)

 Um, “I wish I met you because Mom says your cool, no matter what people say. I’m gonna get a lot of stuff for Christmas. Mom says it’s because you send her money for me. Thank you, Zach.”

 

Harris: Merry Christmas, Mr. Anderson.

 

Anderson: Yeah, whatever. (Wiping his eyes) I’ve got another carol for you, Corey. Wanna hear it?

 

Harris: No, thanks. I’ll have to pass. Thank you so much for your time.

 

Anderson: (singing) ‘What child is this who goes through life

And never knows his father?

When he ends up screwed, I’ll blame it on you,

 But by then I’ll be six feet under!’

 

Mark Anderson’s execution is scheduled for December 20, 2003 at 12:01 a.m. He plans to sing his carols until they make him shut up or he is given a pardon, which ever happens last.

 

Corey Harris is the owner of The Hideaway restaurant chain and the father of two.  Freelance journalism is one of his many hobbies. He lives with his family in Celebuth City, Delaware. Mr. Harris can be contacted via e-mail at CoreyH@Scooner.com.   

 



[i] After the initial interview, Todd Sills was executed and the name was made public domain. We were not, however, permitted to use Mark Anderson’s direct reference to his accused accomplice at the time of the first publication, so ‘name withheld’ replaces his references to “Todd”.

[ii]. On the front and inside of the card were professional photographs of Zachary Anderson taken for the occasion and designed by Ryan Austin and Corei Elks of RhapsodizedLightä Studios who can be contacted via e-mail at LightKings@ RLStudio.com. The service was donated by RhapsodizedLightä Studios, which can be contacted on the Internet at RLStudio.com or by writing them at RhapsodizedLight Studios 5378 Forbidden Forrest Dr. Summatville, South Carolina, 29875-2974, USA or at (1-800) 704-RPSD.

 

 


 

FILE THIRTEEN MAGAZINE- What’s Hot In Young Corporate America

 

Triple Threat:

 A Rare Look at Versatile Young Millionaire Corey Harris

By Alive Stevens

   

    As the youngest son of the elite business guru and entrepreneur Ritter Harris, twenty-six year old Corey Harris never imagined that he would inherit the failing chain of restaurants or that he would turn his father’s childhood dream into one of the top grossing non- franchised restaurants at the start of the 21st century. We were able to interview him at his base- restaurant in Celebuth City, Delaware to discuss his recent rise to national attention and glean various personal tidbits from him.

 

FTM: We have it that you were the last in line to possibly inherit the chain. How did it come about that you are now the manager of The Hideaway?

 

Harris: Well, I’m the only one who really wanted it. My father tried to get Linh, Truc, or Lotus, my brother and sisters, to take it over- Oh, but you’ll wanna hear it from the beginning, right?

 

FTM: Yes, we would.

 

Harris: Okay, then. About ten years ago, after my father’s second heart attack, the doctors found malignant tumors in his lungs and gave him six months to live. Pretty soon after he was confined to bed, he decided that it was time to pass his business on. Without his studious leadership, the restaurant started to steadily decline from grossing nearly nothing to putting he and Mama in the hole. Anyway, my father had never intended for it to pass out of the family, so after he begged and pleaded with the others to take over for him and not sell it off or try to franchise, if possible, he realized that I was the only one who cared enough about the place to try and salvage it.

 

FTM: So at that point he made you the manager?

 

Harris: Actually, he signed over the ownership rights to me, but I was still to young to manage.

 

FTM: What was your initial role in the run of the restaurant? Did your age at the time affect how you went about taking ownership?

 

Harris: Wow. I guess it did. You see, I’ve never really been an out-front or entirely self- sufficient sort of person, like my father is. The first thing I did was go to some of my parents’ closest friends and asked them to be my board members, along with my father and mother, of course. Surprisingly, five accepted, three of which are still members today. These people were like mentors to me and gave me advice as well as much needed financial assistance. Fundraising was not my strong point because I was so shy and young. The adult board members gave my plight a look of legitimacy.

 

FTM: Can you recall any particular low points from that first year or so?

 

Harris:  Plenty. Now this is gonna sound really bad, but news of my father’s recovery made things a little rough for me.

 

FTM: Please explain.

 

Harris: Oh my. I’ll try but, well… this is not a nice part.

By the time he was sufficiently well, I, with help, had succeeded in pulling the restaurant out of the grave and was actually producing some income. Thank God the buildings were already paid off or else a lot of people, including me, would’ve been out of jobs. But anyway, he just had to evaluate my progress, and to his dismay, although I was actually making money, I ran the restaurant in a way so completely opposite of the archaic, Machiavellian method he used that he decided that I wasn’t fit for the business and tried to fire me.

 

FTM: How did that fare with the employees?

 

Harris: The employees weren’t really aware of this, but the board was irate. Most people had only agreed to help me because they pitied me. Now that their pity was actually paying off, they weren’t about to kiss Lady Luck goodbye.

 

FTM: Explain.

 

Harris: I’m sure you’ve heard my father’s name associated with things like stock risks and very daring business ventures. That’s because nowadays he has so much money to burn that for every complete and total failure he invests in, he has more than enough other investments to make up the difference. At that point, no one was willing to risk their money on him. It’s simple business logic. I’m not saying that they liked me more than him, but we all know that people will go with what sells. My ideas were selling. His were not.

 

FTM: How was that situation resolved and how did it affect your father’s relationship with you, professionally and personally?

 

Harris: The first part’s pretty simple. The board voted and he lost. Six to one. Even Momma voted against it. That caused problems for quite a while, until he finally made her quit. It had to happen sooner or later.

 Now about part two. How can I put this nicely? We hadn’t spoken for ten months before he went to

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