Sometimes life can take a turn you least expect; as it did for me in the summer of 1988; the weather was warm and sunny. I was spending the day at the beach at Wolfe's Pond Park in Lower Manhattan, just lying around soaking up the sun when I decided I needed a drink. This was the first time I had been to Wolfe's Pond Park, and had no idea where to buy a drink. I started to move up the beach towards the shops to look for a bar when I saw a young guy struggling to breathe and blood pouring from his mouth. I raced over and saw his throat had been cut and a knife lying next to him. I stupidly picked up the knife and saw blood on it, threw it back down and then tried to stop the flow of blood from the man's neck; but to no avail, and he died in my arms before the police and ambulance arrived. Many people had gathered around me and when the police arrived, they; the people standing around, said they had seen me cut the man's throat. The police immediately cuffed me and led me away with me protesting violently; so much that one policeman coshed me over the head to quiet me down. After questioning, I was charged and spent 11 months incarcerated in 'The Tombs' watching prison awaiting a Grand Jury. My lawyer was an inexperienced newly qualified boy of 28 years old and a junior partner to a Manhattan Law firm. I doubted his ability but his questioning of the witnesses showed many anomalies and I was released; but that was only the start of my problems. The Italian family who had organized the murder then went after me and my family.