“Daddy” Jack Fryer, 71, died last week, apparently at the hands of his brother Robert, who, Jack once told me, suffered from schizophrenia. Robert has been arrested and charged with first-degree murder, based on bone fragments found in a burn barrel. I met Jack when he was released from prison in December 2007, after serving six months for four DUI violations. He called me, said he loved reading One Day at a Time, my quarterly publication, in prison and would like to work for me. He proposed a collaboration which would generate revenues for my non-profit company and compensation for him. I was intrigued by the possibilities of the proposal from Jack— a well-connected and experienced businessman—but I was also a little apprehensive about the alcoholproblem that had landed him in the pokey.
As a recovering alcoholic, myself, I knew the risks. “ Would this be prudent,” I wondered. I asked my friend and CPA, Phil Cox, a man of legendary prudence, what he thought, and he responded without missing a beat, “ This is what you’ re all about, isn’t it?” Bingo. Phil had it exactly right. And my son, Chris, a lawyer, seconded the motion. So I hired Jack on a straight commission basis, twenty percent of whatever he brought in. It may be the best decision I ever made not only because of the money he brought in but also because of his story, which I wrote about over six years ago.
When Jack was released from prison, he entered a halfway house for further rehabilitation. He was broke, had no job and faced serious shoulder and back problems requiring surgery for which he had no insurance. What he did have was a strong faith in God. Jack had struggled with alcohol and other drugs for many years and right after Christmas 2005, after ten months of abstinence, he began a slide that produced four DWI’s in less than three months and put him in prison. Jack’s experience in prison, which included AA and Celebrate Recovery meetings revived his faith in God and instilled in him an evangelistic zeal for confronting America’s trillion-dollar a year substance abuse problem. With his background in investment banking, commercial real estate and wholesaling and manufacturing along with a long list of business connections, Jack also brought a lot of business experience to the table. But still, there was the drugs and alcohol problem.
In and out of Alcoholics Anonymous for a number of years, Jack had periods of sobriety mixed with episodes of alcohol abuse, but during the most recent six years, he had undergone heart surgery and began experiencing depression, which ultimately led to his relapse. On that post Christmas day in 2005, he had been clean and sober 10 months when he came across a pint of vodka he had hidden away and drank it. More drinks followed. The results were catastrophic. It began when he was stopped on his way to a retreat at Subiaco Monastery and Academy near Fort Smith. He was charged with a DWI and kept in the nearby Danville jail overnight until friends could come and pick him up. His court date was set for January 15. Jack scheduled another visit to Subiaco just before his January court date and got sufficiently rowdy on beer one evening to warrant being sent to bed by the monks with a scolding. Jack was embarrassed, and instead of going to bed he loaded up his truck and headed for Danville.
More DWI’s
On the way, a state trooper stopped him for a broken headlight violation, smelled alcohol and carted him off to the Danville jail again. He was let out in time to make his court appearance the following morning “which went well,” he reported. “I didn’t tell the court about my second DWI.” Jack got in his truck and headed back to Little Rock intending to enter treatment for his addiction problem. On the way, he decided to stop at the Harris Break Lake motel in Perry County. To enhance the experience he drove over to Morrilton and picked up a pint at the liquor store. He quickly drank it and went back for another which he also drank. He returned to the motel, got out of his truck and with keys in hand, began an unsteady stroll around the lake and was arrested by the local constable who smelled a rat. His suspicions confirmed, the constable hauled Jack off to the Perry County jail. This time, in addition to his third DWI, Jack, in a bad frame of mind, was charged with “terroristic threatening,” and it took his attorney (and sponsor)—Jack Browne—to get him out. Browne drove Jack to Recovery Centers of Arkansas for treatment, and he stayed for five weeks.
When he got out on March 12, 2006, Jack went to visit a housing project in which he had an interest against the wishes of his sponsor and others. He also bought a pint. But this time he also prayed “that God would stop me from drinking.” The police, “apparently heeding God’s call,” came up from behind and arrested him, and he picked up his fourth DWI. Pulaski County judge Willard Proctor found Jack guilty of DWI violations and sentenced him to five years, four years suspended, one year in prison with six months suspended for good behavior.
Into prison
At 2 p.m. on December 12, authorities told Fryer to report to the county jail by 5 p.m. With not much more than the clothes on his back and accompanied by Jeff Hampton, his minister at Pulaski Heights United Methodist Church, Jack checked in. Jack went through the admission process, and eventually they threw him into D-Pod, a large holding pen full of noisy, violent people whose behavior, Jack said, confirmed its bad reputation. “When they finally locked me up in a two man cell I was relieved,” Jack said, “but the chaos outside continued. My roommate, oblivious to the turmoil, was sleeping off a four-day meth binge. Almost immediately I began praying.” When Jack sat down on his steel bunk, he discovered a little Gideon bible and a tube of toothpaste (a useful commodity for resourceful inmates) under the mattress. “I concluded that it was intended for me,” Jack said, “and I asked God for direction. He answered clearly that I was to turn to the book of Revelation which I did, and when I finished reading, I lay down and fell asleep.” The next morning the guards let Jack out for breakfast, and the scene he says, “was like a glimpse of hell. Inmates were clamoring loudly for food, phone privileges to call their dope dealers and other favors.” At about 8 a.m. Jack said, “they called me out of my cell, slapped on full body shackles and loaded me into a crowded van. Before I left I put the toothpaste and Bible back under the mattress where I found them.”
The van dropped off prisoners at the courthouse and then the State Hospital and when Jack found he was the last one left, he finally asked where they were taking him.” You’re going to ‘Boys Camp’” the driver said, referring to the Central Arkansas Community Corrections facility. “It wasn’t exactly ‘boy’s camp,’” Jack said later, “but it was a lot better than county.” There were two aspects of his incarceration that Jack found particularly praiseworthy, the “modified therapeutic community” structure which focuses on rehabilitation rather than punishment and the Celebrate Recovery 12-step program. “Given the desperation of my addiction,” Jack concluded, “this experience was the answer to my prayers.”
As a young man, Jack cut his teeth on selling dinette sets and later on got into investment banking and real estate development. He told me once that One Day at a Time was the best product he ever sold. When Jack joined ODAT, he was broke, living in a half-way house, going to 12-Step meetings daily and using the city bus line for transportation— his “ limo,” he called it with a laugh, noting that it was the only limo in town you could stand up in. Jack, who was prohibited from driving for five years as part of his sentence, took the bus to UAMS almost daily for treatment of serious shoulder and back problems. For his first sales call, Jack got dressed up in a suit, took the bus to the industrial park past the airport at the end of the line. He got the order and came back with a check for $5,000. Before he was through, he raised over $100,000 to invest in ODAT’s mission to eliminate drug abuse.
Rest in Peace and God bless you, Jack.
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