I was, maybe, twenty-one at the time, sitting in a 12-step meeting, not yet ready to get sober, and in no shape at the time to drink; the alcoholic quagmire. I can’t remember much from that moment, in time, of my life, but one story stuck with me. Frankly, it haunted me.

A girl, no older than I, was sharing about a drunk-driving arrest. She hadn’t had a drink in over a month. Not only did she want to be sober, she needed to stay sober. She was going to Tent City, and was hoping to see us all in a year. It was as heartbreaking as it was touching, and it was downright frightening.

Everyone in town knew of Sheriff Joe, and the horseshoe-shaped jail, where you had to wear pink underwear, and were given rotten bologna sandwiches. Or, maybe that was Tent City. The jail was known for its sweltering heat conditions. It obviously didn’t matter whether these stories were one-hundred percent true or not, because the fear of God was instilled in this alcoholic; the road was far safer. I was so scared of the legend of Joe, that I wouldn’t even get on my bicycle while drunk. In the interest of full disclosure, I did try once, but it wouldn’t go straight.

My dad used to say to me that he couldn’t trust me with car keys in my hand, because at any moment I could have a loaded weapon at my disposal. I laughed at the time, not understanding the severity of his statements. And, as I read this this piece written by Francisco Chairez, for the Washington Post, and of course shared by every leftist in America, I couldn’t help but think that they too were laughing at the seriousness of drunk driving. As I read his “plight” of blame, the only person not to blame was Francisco, the man actually driving drunk. Did Sheriff Joe or anyone else for that matter force feed him alcohol?

Reading this piece actually made me nauseous, and the spreading of it made me M.A.D.D. There are over ten thousand fatalities a year caused by drunken driving, not to mention the injuries, and countless lives affected by these tragedies. Included are the injuries you caused with your car, Francisco. The aforementioned number would be far greater, were it not for an organization like M.A.D.D., and, yes, sheriffs like Joe Arpaio.

“How ironic it is,” Francisco writes, “that the immigrant who committed a minor criminal act has to live with a conviction on his record for the rest of his life, while a criminal like Arpaio gets to walk away unscathed for his crimes, which are greater in scale and severity.

Francisco, you didn’t get arrested because you were Mexican. You got arrested for driving a “loaded weapon” and having it go off. Please, learn the definition of a minor crime, and of the word irony. Frankly, your piece was an insult to the countless families who have lost loved ones. All I read about was you being the victim; yeah, it was the bad relationship’s fault, or Sheriff Joe’s fault, just not yours. Makes sense; it was spread by the left, a movement devoid of accountability.

People far worse, and I mean far worse, than Joe Arpaio have been pardoned. This includes Marc Rich, and, that’s right, Chelsea, your uncle Roger, who believes the only type of driving should be done while drunk. President Obama commuted the sentence of an actual terrorist who killed people, and forget about the pardon-bothering Democrats, everything bothers them. But, I do not recall this anger from “Republicans” when drug dealers and bombers were allowed to roam freely under the commutations of Obama; snakes and charlatans the majority of you.

Joe Arpaio has saved countless lives, not destroyed, as Francisco and many have asserted. You might not have liked the means, or the methods, but criminals, and all those who make these criminals the victims, never do. I have no idea what happened to that white girl who was sharing that day, I pray she stayed sober. Her story saved me. Sheriff Joe saved me, not just from law enforcement, but from myself. Maybe he saved you too, Francisco. You get my pardon, Sheriff Joe. I thank you, my family thanks you, and the lives I didn’t destroy thank you. You freed me, and bravo to the President for freeing you.