When I was being booked into Washington County Jail, the guards told me, "We have Paul Revere in jail, too. You guys will never make it."
I said, "Do you delight in the destruction of your brother?" As I walked off to my jail cell, I turned around and said, "It will be a miracle if I make it in this place for just 24 hours." At the end of 24 hours, I had my first miracle.
After two weeks in jail, I was sent downstairs to see a lady who desperately wanted to be my lawyer. I told her for the fifth time that I did not want her services and bid her good afternoon. Then the jailer marched me over to the holding tank. I could hardly believe my eyes. Sitting on a hard bench was Paul Revere, freshly delivered from another jail. They were shuffling him back and forth between two jails. I'm sure they did not intentionally want to put us together, but this time our paths crossed.
I sat down next to him. Paul smiled and said, "You know something? We don't have a prayer in hell."
I nodded my head in solemn agreement. Then we both started laughing. Things had been looking so grim and now my heart cheered to be with my friend.
Paul said, "The Embassy is going to be on the evening news tonight on Channel 6. If you have access to a television, you might want to watch it."
Then the guards took Paul over to stand on the yellow line and snapped his picture. Paul gave them a big smile but his eyes seemed to say, "Shame on you for picking on the lambs of God."
I arrived in Cell Block "J," just in time for the evening news. There were two televisions in there, with a different movie playing on each one. It is not easy to tear fifty inmates away from their favorite movie, but when I told them that Paul Revere was going to be on television, they agreed to switch to the news. There was scrawny Paul smiling at the television camera as he marched along with the chain gang. The reporter asked Paul, "How long are you going to keep doing this?" Paul said, "Until death do me part."
Then I was surprised to see my face on the screen. The inmates teased, "Hey, hey, hey, it's Abraham!"
The television station was airing some footage of me from an earlier newscast. The reporter said, "You are not a citizen of Oregon? Then where is your citizenship?"
"Heaven, hee, hee."
I could have kicked myself, why did I laugh about being a citizen of Heaven. Then the men in the cell started laughing, too. One of them said, "Heaven, ha, ha, Heaven, ha, ha." Even though it was embarrassing, it was the Lord's way of perking up the jail stay and I was grateful. +++