Eric Volz can finally tell the truth about surviving in a Nicaraguan prison for a crime he did not commit, and the twisted, political corruption that landed him there.  Doris Jimenez, an ex-girlfriend and close friend of Eric’s was raped and killed. Despite all evidence of Eric’s innocence, he was charged and held for the crime.  Doris’s true murderer has still not been convicted.  It has almost been three years since he was deported from Nicaragua, a “free” man in the United States, but still, he’s been careful about what he says and to whom, out of fear for his own life and those of his loved ones.  Now, he is bravely telling the story in Gringo Nightmare.

During the time Eric was imprisoned, Rann and I  became close friends with his mother Maggie, and her husband Dane.  The first time I cut Maggie’s hair was the day after Eric was arrested.  She was in shock, and tearful as she spoke of the situation.  I had met Eric and his sister through a summer camp many years ago, and as Maggie explained what had happened, I could picture his face.

Here in Nashville, there were many ups and down that year as hope would rise that Eric would see justice and be freed only to fall again into bitter disappointment.  Maggie and Dane had to do a lot of interviews, and I would go over to their house after work to give Maggie a quick trim and style for the camera—anything to make her feel a little cared for, and have one less thing to worry about.  Even as they tried to explain the political climate in Nicaragua to us, and why the case was so complicated, I couldn’t wrap my head around it.  I just ached for them to get their son home, and for Eric who was facing inconceivable physical and mental challenges in a facility with third-world conditions at best.  Maggie told that he had  learned to protect himself against hardened, brutal criminals, that the water was dangerously filthy, and the food (when he got it) scarce.  For a year, we prayed, promoted benefit concerts, wrote letters, and told anyone who would listen about the situation.

Toward the end of 2007, Eric went on trial in Nicaragua, and was declared not guilty.  We were so happy–ecstatic—but when I spoke with Maggie, she said it wasn’t over yet, the fear still in her voice.  The release process was delayed, the corrupt higher-ups were trying to find a way to appeal the decision and keep Eric in jail.  The judicial system was getting ready to close down for two weeks, and Maggie said if Eric didn’t get home in the next few days, the chances were, he never would.

A few days later, Maggie went back to Nicaragua, and went through every media channel possible to bring light to Eric’s unjust imprisonment.  He was declared innocent, yet still they held him.  We watched on the news as she pleaded.  The next update we saw, Eric was heading to an airport, and slated to come back to the United States.  We were scared he wouldn’t make it, that someone would try to kill him in transit.  The Nicaraguan mobs had threatened him violently during the whole process.  All it would take was one well-aimed shot, and by now, there was no telling who exactly was holding a gun to his head, so many corrupt people were involved.  But, we finally heard that he had made it safely to the plane, and out of that country.

“Can you come over and do a cut?” Maggie asked over the phone, a week after we knew Eric was out of Nicaragua.  Word was, he was possibly in another country—at least another state until the media hounds stopped haunting their house.  By now, I had gotten used to these “cut calls” from Maggie, because she never knew when an television interview might pop up.  But there was something different in her voice.  My heart jumped.  I knew better than to ask anything, because we couldn’t talk about details concerning Eric over the phone.  There was always the possibility of tapped lines.  ”Yep, I’ll be right there.”  When I drove up, a man greeted me in the driveway.  He was smoking a cigarette, and asked what I wanted.  ”Um, I’m here to cut hair?”  ”Okay,” he said with a Latino accent.  He opened the door for me, and I went in the kitchen to see Maggie.  We hugged.  My heart was still speeding.  ”You met Bob?  He’s in the CIA.”  ”Oh,” I nodded, a huge question mark on my face.  ”Okay, I’ll be right back,” she said.  When she came back into the kitchen, she had Eric with her.  He was so tired, so depleted.  I had no idea what to say to him.  Of course I wanted to gush how we had been praying and working for this moment, how emotionally invested we had become with him.  But I knew that more than anything, he just needed quiet, and to be cared for.  He told me his hair was usually a lot thicker, the lack of nutrition in prison, and his sick stomach had made it brittle and thin.  It was by far, the most surreal, important haircut I have ever done.

This Wednesday, Eric read from his new book Gringo Nightmare. I was so impressed by his presentation.  He reminded everyone that justice for Doris, his friend who was murdered, has still not been found.  His purpose in writing the book is to try to bring that justice to her, and to let everyone know that the roots of his wrongful imprisonment run so deep, they are inextricable from the very framework of Nicaragua.  Very powerful and evil men still have an agenda against Eric.

The book itself is incredibly well written.  It reads like the best suspense novel.  It is so hard to believe that something like this actually happened, and isn’t the product of an author like Stephen King.  Gringo Nightmare uses cutting edge technology, in that each book contains a code that can then be used at the website to view actual legal documents and photographs at key points throughout the book.  This is the proof that yes, this did happen, and no, it is still not resolved. The story is so incredible, that it cannot be explained.  You simply must read Eric’s own account in order to grasp how miraculous his survival is, and also how important the story is, not only for political, global awareness, but also for inspiration in the strength of this man’s spirit and perseverance, and the ability of faith and family to pervade the impossible.

this is Doris

Eric, wearing a bulletproof vest in transit

Eric, rock climbing in Tahoe.  The fact that he was physically and mentally able to do things like this helped him survive the horrifying conditions of prison in Nicaragua.

me and Eric at his book signing this week

Maggie, Eric’s mom and me at Finn’s birthday last Saturday.

Please go to Eric’s website now, and order the book, and learn more about the story.