How HAB began.
An open letter to you, from Rose.
My granny once told me, “If it ain't broke, don't fix it. But if it is, fix it and fix it for everyone.” I didn't know then how much those words would eventually mean to me.
My husband and I started out as pen pals. Somewhere along the way, letters became something more. We fell in love, and eventually we got married. That's the short version, because this isn't our love story. But it is where my journey into this system really began.
Then came parole. And I had the audacity to think, I can do this. I'm a smart woman. I can figure things out. These are government agencies and government websites. The information should be available, right? It shouldn't be that hard to find. So I went looking.
I searched. I read. I gathered what I could find. I put together a parole packet for my husband from the outside, and when I finally got everything submitted, I thought I'd done it. I thought I'd found what I needed and put it together correctly.
I hadn't. The answer was no. And I remember sitting in the parking lot of a meat-packing plant, absolutely devastated. In that moment, I blamed myself.
I should have done more. I should have found more. I should have put it together better. I should have been smarter. Somehow, I should have been able to complete this task.
I didn't have access to all the information I needed. I didn't have the background or education to somehow know the things nobody had told me. And the information that was available was scattered all over the place. There was no map. And if I was sitting in that parking lot trying desperately to figure this out, I knew I couldn't possibly be the only one.
That's when I heard my granny's words again: “If it ain't broke, don't fix it. But if it is, fix it and fix it for everyone.” And that was the moment Hell and Back was born.

