Those who say that we’re in a time when there are no heroes, they just don’t know where to look.
—Ronald Reagan
The gate closed with a sickening metallic clang. The day had come.
Tom was in prison.
The first day in prison for a new inmate is never an easy one. The gate closes for the first time, and the world becomes infinitely smaller. Boundaries—vast oceans, roaring rivers, majestic mountains—now replaced by concrete walls, iron bars, and razor wire.
No man ever feels the gate close behind him without asking himself, “what went wrong? How have I come to this place? What am I doing here?”
Tom was in prison, but he didn’t ask himself those questions.
He already knew the answers.
“What went wrong?” Nothing. Everything was proceeding according to plan.
“How have I come to this place?” By choice.
“What am I doing here?” Work. And it started the moment that gate closed.
After all, the gate itself told him as much. Yes, the gate.
It was always believed that to pass…
