Garrett Gauthier had a limited role in his son’s life prior to his 2013 arrest. Because of his work through the Family Connections Center at the state prison in Concord, the mother of Gauthier’s son has allowed him visitation rights with the boy. Gauthier, 25, of Penacook has another 16 years to serve.
Garrett Gauthier had a limited role in his son’s life prior to his 2013 arrest. Because of his work through the Family Connections Center at the state prison in Concord, the mother of Gauthier’s son has allowed him visitation rights with the boy. Gauthier, 25, of Penacook has another 16 years to serve. Credit: GEOFF FORESTER / Monitor staff

Garrett Gauthier’s fondest memory with his son is waking up in the middle of the night to feed him with a bottle. He had the opportunity to do so just a couple of times before a police pursuit in April 2013 put him behind bars.

The young father hasn’t been free since.

A year after the incident, Gauthier, 25, pleaded guilty to several charges, including attempted murder for firing a single shot that missed Manchester police Officer Aaron Brown. The pursuit began with a traffic stop. Police say Gauthier, who was in possession of loaded firearms and oxycodone, initially provided a false name and then ran.

Jonathan was almost 4-months-old at the time. Last month, he celebrated his fourth birthday.

Gauthier’s biggest fear is that Jonathan will think his dad doesn’t love him, or didn’t love him enough to stay clean.

He has about 16 more years to serve before the two can be reunited on the outside. Jonathan will be 20 years old.

“My dad passed away when I was 12, so I always had the sense that I was not going to let (Jonathan) grow up without a father,” Gauthier, a Penacook native, said during a recent interview at the men’s prison in Concord. “I realize now more than ever I need to take the steps to be involved.”

If he had only a year or two to serve, he might have told his son he was away at school. Given the circumstances, he doesn’t consider lying an option.

“He knows I’m in jail. ‘You know when you’re in time-out and you don’t listen?’ – that’s how I explain it to him.”

At least for now, he added.

Gauthier sees his son in person about 10 times a year and every other week on Skype. Jonathan lives with his mom in North Carolina, and the two routinely make the 13-hour trip to Concord. But come April, those visits will be much easier and a bit more frequent; the family – including Jonathan’s stepfather and little brother – will move back home to New Hampshire.

“I tell him he’s special because he has two dads,” Gauthier said. “He calls me Garrett and dad.”

Prior to Gauthier’s incarceration, he had a limited role in Jonathan’s life, in part because he was too immature to be a good father, he said. He didn’t find out about Jonathan’s birth until two days later. Further, he was excluded from the birth certificate.

From behind bars, Gauthier has sought to prove himself worthy of having a leading role in Jonathan’s life. He has taken parenting education and healthy relationship classes and is involved in a weekly support group, all offered through the New Hampshire Department of Corrections’ Family Connections Center.

As a result of his work in the prison, Jonathan’s mother became more willing to work with Gauthier. The two engaged in lengthy court proceedings to develop a parenting plan that now grants him visitation rights with his son. He has also been added to the boy’s birth certificate, a process that started with a DNA test.

“It’s hard to show the court you’re different, that you’ve changed. You’re walking into the family courtroom in shackles and this,” he said, pinching the fabric of his prison jumpsuit, “and say, ‘I’m a good influence.’ ”

One day, Gauthier hopes Jonathan will learn from his dad’s mistakes and, in time, use those lessons to better himself. Gauthier continues to write his son letters – many of which Jonathan won’t read until he’s older – that document life behind prison walls, how he got there, and their journey together.

He hopes his past will not cause problems for Jonathan in later years, but also knows too well the social stigma of incarceration that may follow them both.

“Not everyone in prison is a bad person,” Gauthier said. “I put myself in here, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t changed. The hardest part is to convince people you can change.”