When I finally walked out of Lompoc, I could hardly believe I was free to go. My mom and Aunt Chickie were there to pick me up. My dad had wanted to come, but he had suffered a mild heart attack and had a recent triple bypass that ended in a severe staph infection, so he couldn’t make it. A mass of reporters and camera crews were there. Eric Corley and a large, excited crowd of "Free Kevin" fans were there, as well. As we stood talking, the prison sent out chaser vehicles to urge us farther from the prison grounds. But I didn’t care. I felt like a new man. Would what lay ahead be a repetition of my past? Or something quite different?