It was a shiny little Cadillac with leather seats. The kind the guys at the chop shop paid 500 bucks for. The streets of Houston\u2019s Fifth Ward were empty. I wrapped my fist in my T-shirt and punched through the back window. In a flash I was in.<\/p>\n
I pulled out my screwdriver, jimmied the steering wheel and popped the ignition, just like my older brother had taught me. The engine roared to life. Then I heard sirens. I pushed the pedal to the floor. Red and blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve got to get off this road, <\/em>I thought, or I\u2019m going to juvie for sure.<\/em><\/p>\n I was 12 years old.<\/p>\n It seems crazy now. Today, everyone knows me as Donald Driver, wide receiver with the NFL\u2019s Green Bay Packers, Pro Bowl player and winner of Dancing With the Stars<\/em>. I\u2019ve dedicated my life after football to helping disadvantaged kids around the country.<\/p>\n But back then, I was Quickie, a nickname that described my speed as well as how fast I was headed in the wrong direction.<\/p>\n Mom would have strangled me if she\u2019d known what I was up to. My dad had gone to prison for robbing a convenience store while she was pregnant with me. I didn\u2019t meet him until I was six. Mom wanted a better life for me, my two brothers and two sisters.<\/p>\n She worked long hours to support us\u2014first as a housekeeper at a hotel and then nights as a security guard. We went to church three days a week. But she often fell behind on rent and then we\u2019d have to move. For a while we even lived out of a U-Haul trailer.<\/p>\n Trouble really started when we moved next door to a man named J.R. Mom trusted him to watch us while she was at work, and he did. What Mom didn\u2019t know was that J.R. and his buddies were dealing drugs.<\/p>\n My older brother Moses and I served as lookouts. We knew it was wrong, but the money was too good\u2014$100 a night. We broke it into smaller bills, and regularly slipped some into Mom\u2019s purse.<\/p>\n \u201cShoot, well, I guess I do have money for the light bill,\u201d Mom would say, finding an extra twenty in her wallet. The way I saw it, we were helping the family.<\/p>\n Then Moses discovered we could bring in even more cash by stealing cars. I was just tall enough to reach the pedals. Before long, I got good at playing two different characters. Quickie the son, who went to school and got good grades, and then Quickie the kid who dealt drugs and stole cars.<\/p>\n I practiced giving the same smile, hug and kiss for my mom when I came home, no matter what I\u2019d done on the streets. She never suspected a thing.<\/p>\n Now, though, I was about to get caught. The sirens got closer. I turned into a back alley, my best chance to lose the cops. I was almost free. Suddenly, up ahead, a car backed out of a driveway. I slammed on the brakes.<\/p>\n Too late. The Caddy T-boned the other car. Through the shattered windshield, I saw a little old lady sitting stunned in the driver\u2019s seat. I jumped out. Thoughts flashed through my brain. Gotta get away! <\/em>I had a head start on the cops, but…What if she\u2019s hurt? You can\u2019t just run away. <\/em><\/p>\n I stopped. I turned back to see if the old lady was okay. I hadn\u2019t forgotten everything I learned in Sunday school.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The woman looked angry, but unhurt. \u201cGo sit on my porch right now,\u201d she said. It was the tone of voice no kid can disobey. I walked over to her ranch-style house and sat in her porch swing. The cops arrived and began to question the old woman. She\u2019s going to turn me in! <\/em>I thought.<\/p>\n \u201cThe man who did this ran that way,\u201d she said, pointing down the alley.<\/p>\n \u201cWho is that on your swing?\u201d one of the officers asked.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, that\u2019s my grandson,\u201d she said. The cops gave me a wary look, but got back in their patrol car and drove off. The woman marched toward me. \u201cYou!\u201d she shouted. \u201cCome inside!\u201d<\/p>\n She led me into her kitchen. \u201cSit,\u201d she said. I sat, dazed. Why hadn\u2019t she turned me in? She pushed some cookies in front of me. I took a bite but my stomach was doing flip-flops. She sat down and looked me square in the eye.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy did you do this, young man?\u201d she finally asked. \u201cYou could be doing so much more with your life. This is not the way God wants you to be living.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis is how we survive in this neighborhood,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not how you get out of it,\u201d she said, and pushed the cookies closer. \u201cMy name\u2019s Evelyn Johnson.\u201d She lived alone, she told me. She\u2019d never married, never had kids. But she gave me the talking-to of my life, like I was her own kin.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t listen to her every word\u2014I kept eyeing that door, wanting to run. But I stayed. She could always call the cops, after all. \u201cYou\u2019ve been given an opportunity,\u201d she said. \u201cDon\u2019t waste it. There aren\u2019t any second chances in this neighborhood and don\u2019t kid yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n I went back to Miss Johnson\u2019s a few days later, trying to make amends for damaging her car. I picked up groceries, helped around the house. I went again the next week, and I kept going back.<\/p>\n \u201cHow are your grades?\u201d she\u2019d ask. \u201cDid you win the game?\u201d Why does she want to know? <\/em>I wondered. But I liked that she cared. Sure, my mom cared, a lot, but she worked so much. Miss Johnson always had the time.<\/p>\n At 14, I went to live with my grandparents. I spent more time studying. Miss Johnson had told me good grades were the key to a better life. Football, basketball, baseball and track kept me busy too. I do want to change, <\/em>I prayed. I want to make Miss Johnson and my family proud. <\/em><\/p>\n One night, I said to Moses, \u201cI\u2019m going to go to college, like Grandpa always tells us. I\u2019m going to make something of myself.\u201d<\/p>\n Easier said than done. I won a football scholarship to Alcorn State, a college in Mississippi that had sent a ton of football players to the pros. My sophomore year, I fell for Betina, a clarinet player with the band. I was still fooling around with marijuana, though, and Betina didn\u2019t like that.<\/p>\n The Olympic trials were coming up, and I had an opportunity to compete in the high jump. She couldn\u2019t understand why I would risk that. \u201cGod is testing you, Donald,\u201d she said. \u201cYou have to make a choice.\u201d<\/p>\n