In this episode, I want to share a painful secret with you that I have hidden almost my entire life. This is the first time I have told this story to the public. I used pain and anger as fuel to become one of the best narcotics agents in the nation. Only nine others know why I hated marijuana enough to cage hundreds of non-violent Americans for possessing or selling the wonderful plant.

My secret is what motivated me to become the best at the immoral and wicked craft of making drug arrests. The record setting arrest numbers spawned dozens of request for me to be a guest instructor at police academies throughout the United States. Cops from everywhere were sent to ride with me. I taught rookies and seasoned cops all my drug busting methods at the very young age of twenty-four years old.

The transition from top cop to anti-prohibition crusader caused the world media to go wild. During an interview with the Associated Press, my drug task force commander stated:

"Barry was even better than he says he was. He had a knack for finding drugs and made more arrests and more seizures than all of the other agents combined. He was probably the best narcotics officer in the state and maybe the country during his time with the task force.”

The Permian Basin Drug Task Force boss was like a father to me. He disowned me after he learned I had produced the videos. He is pictured here wearing the white shirt after I seized $25k from a working gas tank.

I gave an incomplete account of my motives during the hundreds of cable television, magazine, newspaper and radio interviews. I made this statement so many times, I have it memorized:

"I became a drug cop because of propaganda. The schools, the churches and my parents all taught and reinforced that marijuana was evil and those who used it deserved to be in prison."

While this statement is true, it was not the motivating factor that fueled the dark humanitarian crimes I committed. For the record, I am deeply ashamed and sad for all those I hurt during my enlistment in the Drug War. In another installment of Former Narc Turned Humanitarian - A Life Series by Barry Cooper, I will tell how the awareness of my crimes caused me to almost lose my mind. Last year, I forgave myself but I still understand the seriousness of my actions. I ask that you forgive me. I'm truly sorry.

Being interviewed by Tucker Carlson with MSNBC

At the impressionable and sensitive age of five, I saw my petite and frail mother hurt in a bad way because of a bag of pot. The episode scarred me so deeply, I tear each time I recall the instance. As I recall the horror of that dreadful night, my computer screen is blurring from looking through watering eyes.

It was deep in the night. I was asleep in the bedroom I shared with my two brothers. I awoke to wails and overly passionate yelling and screaming. I could hear and feel the booming and commanding voice of my military father. I could also hear my mother making noises I've never heard before. My loving parents were in a fight...a bad one.

The sounds that were torturing my young spirit were magnified when I opened the bedroom door. I frightfully and cautiously crept down the hall to investigate the incident. When I reached the end of the long hallway, I witnessed an unfamiliar level of emotion and chaos. My father was hurting my mother. I still wished I had stayed in my room.

I saw myself release an involuntarily and long scream as I covered my mouth with both hands. I had left my body. Both of my parents stopped and looked at me in a way I have no words to describe. In their eyes I saw rage, pain, deep sadness and shame. I was never the same. The experience changed me forever.

From reading other installments of Former Narc Turned Humanitarian - A Life Series by Barry Cooper, you have learned about my emotional sensitivity issues. My parents were often called to conference with my teachers because a simple and polite correction would trigger a crying spell.

I'm sure the school staff thought I was being abused. After meeting my reputable and wonderful parents and hearing a true explanation of my oddity, the teachers realized the crying was a symptom of my coding. I was born this way.

My father is a non-violent person. The next morning he tenderly explained he caught my mother with a bag of marijuana and the evil drug caused people to become insane. I considered his explanation as absolute truth because I trusted everything he said. I also deducted that my mother must have made a huge mistake or he wouldn't have been violent with her.

Knowing these things should make it easy for you to connect the dots and understand why I became obsessively committed to stomping out the plague cause by marijuana.

My father and I are very close. I consider him one of my best friends and tell him things I don't tell my other best friends. To learn more I recently recalled the incident in a conversation with my father. In a spirit of regret, he explained what had caused him to use such intense and exaggerated emotion toward my mother.

My handsome military father and beautiful mother pictured with my siblings. I'm the little guy.

My father is an accomplished man. I acquired my work ethic and insistence for excellence from him. Dad is retired from the military and a retired high-school math teacher. He was considered a "4.0 sailor" in the Navy. This is a perfect score and the highest mark a sailor can achieve.

The government rewarded Dad's excellence with the perk of giving him the best housing the military had to offer. If he had been caught with marijuana, he would have been court-marshaled (military jail) and kicked out of the Navy with a dishonorable discharge. The consequences of my mother's decision to smoke marijuana caused his violent reaction.

Prohibition torments millions by suffering them through traumatic raids, arrests and being imprisoned. Because of fear, the immoral and unnecessary laws also cause good people to commit bizarre and unfair acts toward their loved ones. My father's actions and beating a child for smoking marijuana are both perfect examples of this phenomenon. I fully understand why my father did what he did and have forgiven him.

My mom possesses an alien intelligence and was a very popular person. She is known for her brilliant mind and endless writings. She was so good, she wrote a daily advice column for a large San Diego, California newspaper. Mom also owned her own beauty shop where she was locally famous for being an award winning Vidal Sassoon hair stylist.

I am fortunate to be with my mother the first eleven years of my life. Mom spent a large amount of time nurturing and teaching me. I was able to read and write before I started kindergarten. I credit her with my unwavering insistence of justice, courage, fairness and kindness. I am positive my success as an activist is a direct result of her coding these qualities into my hard drive.

My brothers and sisters pictured with my mother during one of my last visits with her.

She would talk with me for hours about the importance and the honor of standing up for weaker persons. She explained that no matter how many people were against me, I was to press forward and never stop until the bully was neutralized.

Her ability to teach in a dramatic and interesting fashion can be seen in my activism. All the passion I use when confronting police is almost an exact mimic of my mother acting out the determination and courage I should use when facing oppressors.

Because of unspeakable traumas my mom suffered as a child and during her early teens, she has difficulty navigating this planet. Eventually my parents divorced and I moved to Texas with my father. The pain of losing her was unbearable and I still hurt because of it. My mother has remained single and virtually alone since the divorce. It's usually impossible to be around her but I recognize it's not her fault. For self-protection, I have not spoken with her in over eight years...except for one time and I'm still ashamed at what I did.

A few years ago while living in Brazil as a refugee, I was drunk and gave her a call. It was Mother's Day. Upon hearing my voice, she said, "Barry! Is that you son?" I could tell she was happy to hear my voice. I panicked and explained I had another call to take and I would ring her back. I hung up and never returned the call. This is making me cry right now.

I love you Mom.

You are helping me more than you can imagine by listening to my stories. Discussing this with you has awakened the need for me to speak with my mother. It feels urgent. I am going to call her tomorrow. I will give a brief account of my conversation with her in the comment section of this post. Check with me there in a few days to learn what happened.

If this story brought back any childhood memories or touched you in any way, remember to leave some love. Upvote this post. Thanks.

Peace, Love and NeverGetBusted.

Photo of shadow parents and stressed child credit: catholicamericaneyesinkorea.blogspot.com