The Day I Was Given A Gift To Restart & Change

Saturday, September 3, 2016, the beginning of Labor Day Weekend, I got up eager to start the day with a weightlifting session at the gym and then a trip to the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) to get a replacement driver’s license, since I had just lost mine a few days prior. What I was looking forward to the most was going to a party that my former college housemate, Dan, was hosting at night. Little did I know that by the end of the day, I would get brought to my knees and reach the lowest point in my life.

The day started with a loaded breakfast followed by a dose of pre-workout. I drove to the YMCA gym about 15 minutes away from home, the sun was shining brightly, the temperature could not have been better, I had music pumping in the car, the caffeine had started to kick in and I was filled with energy for the training session I was about to enjoy. I arrived at the gym and, of course, I trained my upper body. I had to “pump up” my arms, chest and shoulders to look great for the party. After the hard session at the gym, I walked out to the parking lot and as I got in my car, I texted the group chat with my former college housemates, “Yoo Dan, what time are you having people over tonight?”

After parking my car back at home, I looked at my phone and saw Dan’s response, “Gotta check with the girls, but probably around 6.” I wrote back, “Alright, I’ll be there.” I went inside the house, took a shower, had lunch, and packed a bag to go out. Walking back out the door, I kissed my mom and said, “I’m going to the DMV and then to Rider. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She responded, “Okay, have fun and be careful” and off I went. When I pulled into the parking lot at the DMV, as usual on a Saturday, the waiting line stretched out the entrance door and after about 45 minutes of waiting, I finally got to the front desk. I handed the documentation I had to the lady on the other side, she reviewed it and said, “The bank statement you have doesn’t spell out your full name as it is on your license. You’ll have to go to the bank and ask for a signed statement showing your full name.” After trying to work it out with the lady without success, I left and drove to the bank that was conveniently located only a few blocks away.

I walked into the bank and asked to speak with a representative. I waited a few minutes in the lobby, then a gentleman came out of his office, nicely greeted me and asked me to come in. “What can I help you with?” he said. I explained the difficulty I was having at the DMV and requested a copy of a statement showing my full name with a bank stamp and his signature. He said, “I understand your issue and I know it can be a pain dealing with the DMV. I can have your name updated and give you a copy of a statement; however, we no longer stamp and sign documents for customers.” I responded “Okay, I guess that’s fine.” He proceeded with updating my name and printed out a copy of my account activity. He walked over to the printer located outside the office, came back to his desk, stamped the bottom of the statement and signed it. I looked at him a bit surprised. He looked back at me and said, “Hey, don’t tell anyone I did this. You’re a good-looking kid. Go and enjoy the weekend.” I gave the gentleman a huge smile, thanked him, shook his hand and walked out of the bank feeling confident and thrilled to go on with the day.

As soon as I got in my car to drive back to the DMV, I looked at the clock and realized that it was about to close in 20 minutes, so I sped off hoping I would get there in time. When I got to the building and tried walking in through the main entrance, the doors were already locked. I felt extremely frustrated and got a bit worried, since I had been driving around without a license and I was going to continue doing so for the rest of the long holiday weekend. I thought to myself, “I should be alright. I’ll keep my passport with me in case I get pulled over or something.” Before heading towards my alma mater, Rider University, I texted my friend Diego and told him I would be at his place in about an hour or so. He had just moved to an off campus house a few weeks prior, and I was excited to get to see him again after a while. When I finally arrived, Diego gave me a tour of the house, we hung out and caught up on how each other’s summer had gone.

It was late in the afternoon when Diego and I got in my car and went to the liquor store. I bought a 12-pack of Corona as I normally would have. We then headed to the Rider campus to meet up with our friend Jose, who we hadn’t seen the whole summer as he had gone home overseas. When I turned into campus, I immediately saw Jose and another guy standing and waiting on the sidewalk outside the dorms. I pulled up in front of them, got out of my car, a Nissan Altima coupe, gave Jose a hug and he introduced me to Fernando – a new student athlete that had just come from Spain. I slid the driver’s seat forward to let the guys in the back and then drove to the pizzeria that was a few blocks down the street. Upon getting there, we walked in, ordered a large pizza pie for the four of us, we sat down and had a great time talking, laughing and catching up. Right after leaving the pizzeria, I drove Jose and Fernando back to the dorms. We had planned to see each other again the next day at a barbecue that another mutual friend was going to host at his house. I then dropped off Diego at his place. I would see him again a bit later since he was also going to Dan’s party.

The sun had set, it was almost 7pm and already dark out when I finally drove to Dan’s house. It had been a long day, but the night was just about to start, and I was excited to have some drinks and enjoy the party. I turned on the street where the house was located and as I got closer, I saw the line of cars parked along the street. I thought to myself, “This is probably not going to last very long.” I had been to many house parties in the area during my college years, and most of them would get busted as soon as too many people showed up and it began to get loud. I found a parking spot on the curb all the way at the beginning of the line, I grabbed my pack of Corona from the trunk, and I walked around a hundred meters towards the house. When I got inside, I found some of my former housemates and several other people I knew from college. Inside the house wasn’t too crowded, but the back porch and the patio outside were filled with people playing beer-pong, drinking, vibing and having a great time.

I opened my first bottle of beer and started drinking it quite fast. Seeing everyone around me drinking and enjoying themselves made me feel like I was “too sober”. I grabbed another bottle, put my case of beer in Dan’s room and walked out to the patio. I found Diego again and we started chatting for a bit, then I ran into other people I knew, talked to them, kept drinking and just hung out. It was warm outside, there was music playing and there was an overall lively atmosphere. At one point I heard someone yelling my name from far away; it was one of my former housemates saying, “Fed! Get over here! House picture.” I walked through the crowd towards the front yard and got in on a group picture. I began to feel the effects of the beers I had been drinking and enjoying myself more. I went in and out of Dan’s room a couple more times to grab drinks and as I had anticipated, the party quickly got loud, and the police showed up to end it. The music was shut off, the crowd started walking from the back towards the front and away from the house, and the line of parked cars on the street soon cleared up. When the police showed up, I quickly finished the beer I was drinking, talked to Ryan - my former roommate - and he said to me, “Come to my house. We’re having some people over.” He had recently moved to a new place with a few other mates, which was about a five-minute drive from Dan’s house. I went to grab my case of beer that was about half full, walked to my car, threw the beer in the trunk and drove to Ryan’s house.

On the short drive I listened to loud music, and I had great energy to continue partying. The thought that I was not sober, and I was driving without a license crossed my mind, but I quickly disregarded it. I pulled into the long driveway that stretched around the side of Ryan’s house and ended in the back, which is where I parked. I didn’t realize there were more vehicles about to arrive and block my car in, but I was planning to sleep over anyway or take an Uber if I ended up going elsewhere. I walked through the front door, there was music playing and there were around 20 people hanging out and drinking in the open living room and kitchen area. I grabbed another beer, put the case down and started chatting with others.

A little while had passed until I went outside with two other guys, I grabbed my pack of Marlboro Menthol from my pocket, gave one to each of them and we started smoking. As we were talking, I noticed a group of girls a few steps from us talking and laughing. I knew one of them, I made eye contact with her from a distance, and we both waved at each other with a smile. After a few minutes, the two guys I was smoking with re-entered the house, I stayed out and approached the girl I knew to say hi and ask how she had been. After some small talk, the group of girls began making their way back inside, I followed and struck up a conversation with another girl in the group, who I had never met before. When we got to the living room we sat on the couch, I offered her a beer, I opened the last bottle I had left, and we continued having a conversation.

It was around 1am when everyone started leaving. The girl I had just gotten to know was still with me and we were really enjoying each other’s company. I was quite attracted to her, and she also seemed to be into me. Her friends called her to leave as they were getting picked up by an Uber and I said to her, “Don’t worry I’ll give you a ride back.” She looked at me, agreed and said to her friends, “Just go, he’ll drive me back.” We hung out for a bit longer before I grabbed my car key to leave for the girl’s dorm at Rider, which was about a 10-minute drive. I was clearly drunk at that point. I had thought about taking an Uber but decided not to, since I remembered I didn’t have much money in my bank account. We walked out of the house and saw that Ryan’s car was stalled in the middle of the narrow driveway with a flat tire, blocking the way out to the street.

I got somewhat frustrated and was anxious to leave with the girl, but while Ryan and two other guys were working on replacing the flat tire, we patiently waited. About 30 minutes later, Ryan was finally able to move his car to the side of the driveway. The girl and I said goodbye to the few people that were outside, we walked towards the back, got in the car, I plugged my phone into the aux cord and put music on, I backed out then drove towards the front of the house. I approached the beginning of the driveway, came to a complete stop, looked both ways for any oncoming traffic, made a slow right onto the main street and drove straight for about a quarter mile. In the back of my mind, I knew the entire time that I should not have been driving since I was highly intoxicated but decided to take my chances anyway. It was also not the first time I had done it.

Soon after, I saw the red, white and blue police lights in my rear-view mirror. My worst fear, what I thought would never happen to me, was becoming a reality. I panicked and started shaking; I made a left turn at the light I was coming up to and immediately pulled over to the side of the road. I was frightened and didn’t know how to react. I turned off the music and waited. Two police cars parked right behind me, an officer stepped out and approached the driver’s side of my car. I lowered my window and listened to the officer saying, “May I please have your license, insurance and registration?” I agreed, reached for the glove box, pulled out my car registration, insurance and passport then handed them to the officer. I said, “I don’t have my license with me.” The officer asked why, and I tried explaining the situation I had gone through earlier in the day.  I was extremely nervous, and my words were slurring. The officer asked me to turn off the car and step out, and I obeyed. Meanwhile, the other officer made his way to the passenger’s side of the car, asked the girl for her ID and requested that she exit the car.

As I came out of the car the officer said, “Stand in front of me.” He took out a small flashlight, pointed it at my eyes and instructed me to keep my eyes fixed on it. He then started moving the light from side to side and asked that I follow it with my eyes without turning my head. As I complied with the officer’s requests I managed to somewhat relax and began praying in my mind, asking God and my guardian angel to help me. After the first sobriety test, the officer proceeded to the next one. He was standing in front of me, he took a few steps back and away from me then instructed, “Now walk towards me, with your toes touching your heel, in a straight line, and count to ten steps.” While doing this I tried focusing and keeping my balance. Once I got closer to the officer and got to ten steps he said, “Turn around, walk back the same way but now count backwards.” I felt challenged and when I got to about 4 steps, the officer told me to stop and put my hands behind my back. He then gently put his handcuffs around my wrists and recited my rights. I cooperated and completely surrendered as I was led to the back seat of the police car. I sat there in absolute fear and disbelief at what was happening. The second officer came to me and asked why I didn’t have a license. I attempted to explain again that I had lost it and tried replacing it earlier in the day without success. He understood, closed the door, and walked away to assist the girl who was standing on the sidewalk – and whom I had completely forgotten about. Unfortunately, that was the first and last night I had ever seen her. I never got in contact with her again or found out how the rest of the night had gone for her. This was not by choice, but simply because I have no recollection of her name, and I never got her phone number. I was clearly too intoxicated to remember. Despite my efforts to find out about her in the subsequent days, I was not able to and it’s something I sincerely regret.

I was driven about 5 minutes to the police station, I exited the car, was led inside the building by the officer, and the handcuffs were taken off my wrists. I sat on a chair across from a long counter and was asked to wait for a moment. One police officer stayed with me, and the other walked through another door towards the back. A few minutes went by then the officer came back, he asked me to get up and follow him into another room. Upon entering it, I sat on a chair next to a breathalyzer device. The officer instructed me to take the tube attached to it, put it in my mouth and blow into it for a few seconds. The first time I softly blew into it and the machine did not register a proper reading. The officer asked me to blow again two more times. I realized it was pointless for me to try to trick the machine and gave a full blow on the third attempt. The machine then provided a more accurate reading of my Blood Alcohol Concentration (BAC), which was clearly over the legal limit.

Following this, the officer took me back to the room by the main entrance. I asked if I could use the restroom, and he showed me where it was. I was feeling exhausted, dizzy and numb to what was going on. I came out of the restroom and sat on the chair again, across from the two officers sitting on the other side of the long counter. One of them asked, “Can you call anyone to come pick you up?” I said, “Yeah, I can probably call my parents, but it’s 4am and I live about an hour away. Can I just spend the rest of the night here and leave in the morning?” The officer responded, “No, you have to call someone and ask to come get you as soon as possible.” I got a bit frustrated inside, as I was trying to avoid having to make that difficult call and deliver the news to my parents. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and realized that it was dead. I told the officer about it, he checked what kind of phone I had and asked the other officer, “Do we have a Samsung charger by any chance?” The other officer said, “I don’t think so, but let me go check.” He got up and walked through the door towards the back. I was hoping they would not have one. In the meantime, the officer sitting across from me was filling out paperwork, which appeared to be a police report. He started asking about what I had been doing earlier in the night and how much I had been drinking. I was hesitant to give him too much detail and told him I had only had a few beers throughout the night, when the reality was that I had more than just a few and then some.

The officer that went to look for a charger came back saying he could not find one. The officer sitting across from me then looked at the office phone in the corner of the counter, he grabbed it and pulled it closer to him. He asked me for my parent’s phone number, I gave him my mom’s number, he dialed and passed me the handset. It rang for about a minute and went to voicemail. The officer dialed again. This time my mom answered. “Hi mom, it’s Fede. Is dad there?” I was terrified and embarrassed. For some reason I felt more at ease talking to my dad, who grabbed the phone and said, “Hi son. What’s going on?” I could sense the worry in his voice; I stayed in silence for a second, I felt a lump in my throat and started tearing. I felt so much shame and guilt suppressing me at that moment that it was hard to speak. I took a breath, built some courage and said, “Hi dad, they got me. I got pulled over and I need you to pick me up from the police station.” My dad said, “It’s okay son. Tell me where you are, and we’ll go get you.” I asked him to put my mom back on the phone. I told her my phone was dead and couldn’t send her the address, but I gave her the name of the town that I was in, so she could look up the respective police station.

I sat in the office for nearly an hour and a half, I tried to sleep a little while the two officers carried on with their duties. It was about 6am when I heard an officer coming into the office. He asked me to get up and follow him as my parents had arrived. He led me towards the back of the office through two other doors until we reached a long hallway that stretched to the exit doors of the building. The officer said, “Your parents are over there” and pointed at them. They were sitting on a side bench about halfway through the hallway. Before the officer let me go, he handed me four separate tickets with the charges they had issued against me, then instructed me to come back to the station later in the day to get information on where to pick up my car from. I agreed and thanked him. As the officer closed the door behind him, I began walking slowly along the hallway to meet my parents, terribly ashamed of myself.

As I got close to them, they got up, took me in, hugged me and said, “It’s all good son.” I stayed in silence as we walked along the rest of the hallway, through the exit doors and out to the parking lot. Approaching the car, I started feeling a lump in my throat again, I took a deep breath, and I started tearing. My parents got inside the car, I got in the back seat, closed the door and broke down crying inconsolably. The uncertainty of my future, the deep hole I had just gotten myself into, and the awful sense of having let down my parents all hit me at once. I started speaking blameful words to myself as my parents listened and tried to calm me by giving me words of encouragement. They said, “Everything will get resolved and will be okay. Don’t you worry.” The amount of love, patience and support I got from my parents is something I treasure and feel extremely blessed to have had not only in that moment, but also throughout the posterior – long and dreaded – process of dealing with the consequences of the case. After a couple of minutes, I had let all my emotions out and was able to get back to a peaceful state. My dad began the long one-hour drive back home. I just sat in the back in silence, looking out the window until I lay down across the seat, closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I felt the car stop, I sat up and realized we had parked in the parking lot of our apartment complex. It was bright and shining out. I got out of the car feeling quite dizzy, went inside the house, took a warm shower and lay in bed to sleep. After a few hours, I woke up with a terrible hangover. I ate a light lunch and tried not to think too much about what had happened. When I was done eating, I laid sideways on the couch looking out the sliding glass door to the balcony, staring into space, emotionally wrecked as tears started slowly falling from my eyes. I could not imagine a bright future ahead; all I thought about was the detrimental impact that a record of a DWI (Driving While Intoxicated) after my name would have on my life.

I went back inside my room and felt that I needed to talk to someone. I laid in my bed and called my cousin Ernesto in Paraguay. I grew up with him and we formed a tight bond that has remained strong despite living apart from each other since my family and I moved to the United States. He answered my call after a few rings and as soon as I heard his voice, I got emotional and felt a great sense of gratitude for having him there for me. It was hard to speak, he could hear me crying and said, “Are you okay Fede?” With a broken-up voice I responded, “I really messed up bro.” He remained silent and allowed me to take a breather. After a few seconds I composed myself and told him about what I had just gone through. He listened and then gave me words of encouragement, which was what I needed at that moment, and I truly appreciated. After the conversation I felt a bit lighter and in better spirits.

A couple of minutes later I called a friend, Todor. I met him in middle school when I had just moved to the United States. We went to school and played soccer together and became close friends growing up. He had invited me to go to a festival in New York City that same weekend, but by that time I had already made different plans. I occasionally wonder how things would have turned out if I had gone with him. He picked up my call as he was on the train back home from the city, “Yoo Fede! What’s up bro?!” I said, “Hey, not much bro. What are you up to?” He went on to tell me about the awesome time he had at the festival, and I listened feeling happy for him. He then asked me about how my weekend had gone, and I went on telling him about what had happened. Once again, he empathized with me and gave me nothing but words of support. I gained a bit of perspective and felt blessed for having had my family and friends back me up after making such a terrible mistake and reaching such a low point in my life.

I felt encouraged and in a much better state emotionally after speaking with Ernesto and Todor. A little while later, I heard my phone ring – it was Jose. I picked up and he said, “Fed! What’s up bro? Is everything okay?” I went on to tell him about the night and he then expressed his sympathy. “Damn, that really sucks man! I’m sorry,” he said. We continued talking for a bit then he asked if I was going to the barbecue we had planned to go to, since he was on his way there. I wasn’t sure if that was a serious question, but I responded, “No man, there’s no way I’ll make it there today.”

Later in the afternoon, my parents and I hopped back in the car and made the one-hour trip to the police station again. It was a quiet ride where I got to sit in the back of the car and just think about where I was and the trajectory of my life going forward. At one moment I told my parents about the conversation I had with Ernesto and how it helped me feel a bit more relieved. We arrived at the police station, my mom and I walked in and waited a few minutes for an officer to come out and give us directions to get my car back. It was towed to a local auto repair shop, which was closed since it was a Sunday. We then headed back home. It was the fourth one-hour long trip my parents were making in the span of several hours and not a single moment did I perceive frustration in them. Talk about patience and unconditional love!

We got home, the late Sunday afternoon turned to evening and I was living a reality I could never have expected, but it was time to accept it and stop feeling sorry for myself. I laid my head on the pillow that night, hopeless, disappointed and with my mind drowned in uncertainty. The next day was Labor Day, a national holiday, and for me, it was the first day of a new life. I had the opportunity to choose to continue in the same path I had been on or start making radical changes that would lead me in a better direction. Thankfully I chose the latter, and that was the beginning of a long transformative journey that tested my resilience to the limit and facilitated immense growth in the following months and years.