Dawson I injured my back during the UT homecoming game my sophomore year and lost my football scholarship, along with my dream of going pro. Then I found out my girlfriend Mollie was pregnant, and we both quit school to get married. I needed to support my new family, so I took a job driving an eighteen-wheeler, delivering cattle feed from Texas to California. I became addicted to painkillers. Then I began self-medicating with illegal drugs. Soon after I agreed to start transporting cocaine for a Colombian drug cartel. I was convinced I could do five or six runs, get the money I needed to buy my own rig, and be done with the whole business. I thought I could quit anytime I wanted, but I was wrong. I asked an old friend to help me get out. One thing led to another, and before I knew what was happening, I found myself in the middle of a drug raid with a dead cop. I did not pull the trigger, though that’s what I’m here for, but I wasn’t innocent, either. I was running drugs and as a result, a good man is dead.
