Reg moves to Toronto to work, and starts a family

Editor's note:  Reg wrote of leaving Nova Scotia, after the sentencing for his drug arrest.

After I wrapped things up at St. Mary’s, I moved back home to P.E.I.   That’s where I met Jean, who eventually became my wife.  She and I were perfect together (or so I thought).  She had a good sense of humor and she didn’t mind me selling drugs or handing out with my friends all night.  She never complained about anything and she tolerated all my bad habits.

But I didn’t have a job in P.E.I.  I didn’t want to work anyway.  I could make a lot more money selling dope.  But after getting busted there was a lot of pressure from my family to go straight so I decided to give it a try.  Not in Souris, but in Toronto.  I packed my bags and Jean and I moved to Toronto.  I took a job there at a record and tape distributor making not much more than minimum wage.  But I had over $10,000 in the bank when I was in Halifax so I was comfortable.  We were only there for a month or two when [Janine] announced she was pregnant.  Oh fuck.

So she moved back home.  I had some friends in Toronto and I wanted to spend the winter there.  When spring came around I moved back to the Island. 

Jean had the baby, a boy – Steven (my middle name) and we rented a house and moved in together.  With my place now I started selling coke seriously.  I was buying it cheap by the kilo in Montreal and selling it by the gram.  The money was good.  This went on for several years with me amassing a small empire and a big habit.  Eventually I moved to Charlottetown and opened my own business [Days of Wine and Beer], a retail store selling wine and beer making supplies.  I was selling ounces and pounds of coke now, living the high life.  I always had a roll of hundreds in my pocket.  I had five cars and the money to do anything that I wanted.  But nothing lasts forever … even cold November rain.

Busted for Selling Hash

In the second year, I pretty dropped most of my courses and focused on selling drugs.  Too bad I got busted  I guess it was bound to happen.  There was so much drug use and drug dealing going on at school.  I sold a gram to a narc.  Funny thing is, I knew he was I narc, but I sold it to him anyway.  I was so stoned I didn’t know what to do. 

I had just finished smoking a monster spliff when the narc came to my door.  “Somebody said I could buy a gram here”, he says.  I had about 20 grams in my pocket and the room was full of smoke.  I thought if I didn’t sell it I probably get busted anyway.  So I sold him a gram.  He said thanks and walked away but I just knew he was a narc.  Sure enough, about a week later I came home and my door was wide open, my clothes were thrown all over the place, and there was a card from the police sitting on my desk.  When I left earlier that morning, I was just after buying a quarter pound of hash (4 oz).  I weighed out 20 grams and put them in my desk.  I put the rest of the chunk in a drawer, under my clothes.  Then I locked my door and started heading  downtown. 

Five minutes later, I came back thinking, “I should hide that better”, so I put it in a case of beer bottles.  When I checked my room after the search, the 20 grams were gone but the big chunk was still there!  Mixed feelings there.  I was busted but it would have been a lot worse if they had found the big piece.  This pretty much ended my university days.  I was allowed to finish the year but I was kicked out of residence. 

[Editors Note: In what was a very bizarre coincidence, on the day that he was expelled from residence, his horoscope in the city newspaper read, “Expect a change in residence …”]

I moved in (illegally) with a couple of friends who shared a room in residence.  This was where I first tried heroin. One of the guys was from Hong Kong and every month he would get his friend to mail him a few grams.  I snorted a big line of it one night and I got really sick.  I remember standing up and it seemed like the walls took off in different directions.  I fell down and crawled to the toilet and puked over and over again.  I looked in the mirror and my skin was almost blue.  I felt terrible but I wanted to try it again.

For the bust, I got a $600 fine.  No big deal really but I got a criminal record for it.  That was the worst that happened. [Unfortunately, this criminal record would haunt him for the rest of his life]

Below is the document from his sentencing:

Reg goes to Saint Mary's

After I finished high school, I went to University – St. Mary’s University in Halifax, Nova Scotia.  I didn’t know what I wanted to do but both of my brothers had been to university so my parents insisted that I go too.  So off I went.  I didn’t care about school but I wanted to live in Halifax – the big city compared to where I was from.

I started selling drugs to the other students when I got there.  I was taking trips to Montreal to buy hash by the kilo and coke by the ounce.  At St Mary’s, I sold it by the gram and I made a lot of money – easy money.  It was hard to be interested in school when I was making so much money selling drugs.  Halifax was just one long party.   I was going downtown to the bars almost every night, doing cocaine all the time.  I could never get out of bed for my classes.  I made it through my first year but then I pretty much gave up on school altogether.