ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Monday, March 3, 1997                  TAG: 9703030094
SECTION: VIRGINIA                 PAGE: C-1  EDITION: METRO 
COLUMN: A Cuppa Joe
SOURCE: JOE KENNEDY


THEY MADE THEIR MARK, AND MUST PAY PRICE

Billy Firebaugh looked out the window of a restaurant on the Roanoke City Market and said, "I don't even want to come down here anymore."

Until a year ago, the market was his stomping ground, particularly late at night, when he and two friends, Jason Atkins and Michael Zimmerman, sprayed and scribbled their "tags" on doors, walls, rail cars and other surfaces.

They were Roanoke's premier graffiti team. Then they got busted. Now they are in a hole.

Each was sentenced to seven years in jail with all but 30 days suspended, four years of probation, 400 hours of community service and an obligation to pay $2,500 to an anti-graffiti fund to be established by Downtown Roanoke Inc.

Atkins apparently has disappeared. Firebaugh and Zimmerman are doing OK, except for the money part. Records show Firebaugh has paid just $100 to the fund, Zimmerman $20.

If they don't get on it, they could go back to jail.

More than 476 hours to go

Firebaugh is 19 and looks it, with hair somewhat long and a beard. He worked at a box company for seven months but recently was laid off. Prosecutors are preparing to ask that his probation be revoked.

Time is growing short for Zimmerman, who's 20. Last week, he started working at a car wash for $5.25 an hour.

The sum of $2,500 doesn't seem big on paper. But when you look at kids with jobs in the $5 to $6 per hour range, it's hard to imagine how they will pay it.

At $5.25 per hour, they'd have to work 476 hours to earn $2,500. That's nearly 12 weeks, and that's before taxes. It's an awesome task, but "better than the alternative," Firebaugh said.

Zimmerman said he hoped to begin regular payments and stay out of jail.

He agreed with Firebaugh: What they did was stupid.

"It was kind of like a game-type thing - `We have to get the biggest, the most, the best.' And we tried to be No.1."

They made it, and these were the prizes: weekly urine tests and support group meetings, visits with probation officers and unpaid hours of community service.

'I wish I'd listened'

Firebaugh sweeps the floor and stocks shelves at the Salvation Army Thrift Store; Zimmerman files papers at the probation office.

But they don't complain.

When Firebaugh walks from Southeast Roanoke to the Day Reporting Center each week, he travels through the alleys he used to deface. A few of his tags - he went by "Acid" - remain. Many others - "Toy," "Leaf," "Lost," "Monk" - have been added.

"I wish I'd listened to my father," he said. "He always told me, 'Ain't nothing out after dark but trouble.'''

Not the same kind of friends

When Zimmerman thinks about jail, it's not an abstraction.

"I guess it'd be all right if you didn't have no friends and no life," he said. "When you've got people that love you, it's no place to be."

The giddiness of their game is gone. Even their relationship has changed.

"We're not not friends," Firebaugh said, "but we're not friends like we were over the years."

"We still talk," Zimmerman said. "We still hang out when the women will allow us" - but their girlfriends discourage it, hoping to keep them out of trouble.

Young father, baby in hospital

Firebaugh said his girlfriend gave birth to his daughter three months early. The baby is in intensive care.

They face a tough row. But if they somehow meet their obligations, they'll have a lot of years left to live.

Optimistic, I know. But how can you root against them?

What's your story? Call me at 981-3256, send e-mail to joek@roanoke.com or write to P.O. Box 2491, Roanoke 24010.


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