People driving through the Central Valley of California sometimes might pass through the small town of McFarland. The cow smelling town is surrounded by agriculture, from grape vineyards to almond and pistachio trees.

McFarland is a simple and modest place, with a population of about 14,000, according to the U.S. Census. It is in many ways a 20th century rural California. There are mom-and-pop shops and businesses that have been around for decades. The buildings are painted in plain and dull colors. The roads in the city are outdated and uneven. There is just one traffic light, installed in 2017.

A collage of Damacio Diaz's life that hangs in the halls of his home. (Photo by Mark Armendariz-Gonzales)

In the middle of the generally unremarkable town stands a water tower with a mural painted across it. It showcases silhouettes of runners on a red and orange backdrop. Under the silhouettes, nine different years are listed with a handful of names written next to each one. Painted across the top of the water tower in huge white letters are the words “home of the state champions.” The message refers to the glory days of McFarland’s cross-country team.

“We were nobodies, nobody knew who the Diaz brothers were in the beginning,” said Damacio, now 52.

The brothers, then teenagers, went from local nobodies to hometown heroes overnight. McFarland, founded in 1909 and incorporated in 1957, was finally getting its due. Locals viewed the Diaz family as a big reason for this.

Then, Hollywood came to tell their story, with a film crew shooting a multi-million dollar film around town.

It was remarkable that athletes from a remote California farm town made their mark so fast. But as the Disney film was being released in theaters in early 2015, the FBI was engaging in an investigation.

What happened next transformed how the town viewed its hometown heroes, and even how the Diaz family saw itself. Their story addresses how people who rise so high can fall so fast, and raises questions about whether it is possible to come back from such experience.

The Path of Damacio Diaz

The story of a hometown hero's fall from grace. (Video produced by Mark Armendariz-Gonzales)

The Rise

In the 1980s, McFarland was a little-known farming community. The majority of the residents were poor or working class, and the community had gang problems. What the community did lack, they made up for in pride. Working in the fields was the main source of income for most of the residents in McFarland. Many people worked long hours in the scorching sun each day to support their families. In many cases, their kids toiled the fields too.

One of these children who grew up in the fields was Damacio Diaz, who was one of seven siblings. Damacio says he began working at the age of six. Damacio and his brothers would wake up at 4am to work in the fields before school, and then go right back to work when they got home.

All nine members of the Diaz family. (Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

“I felt like I was being punished. It felt unfair that I was not having a normal childhood, while everyone else was,” Damacio said.

To Damacio, there was no such thing as a beautiful day out in the fields. The weather was either extremely hot, with sweat constantly rolling down his face, or cold and foggy.

One thing the city of McFarland had going for it during this time was sports. The McFarland school system had some good athletics programs, especially when it came to running — more specifically, cross-country.

The man behind the cross-country program in McFarland was Jim White. Coach White started the McFarland track club in 1973, which led to the creation of the cross-country program in 1980, and it was not long before all three Diaz brothers were running on the team together.

Coming from a poor family, there were many times Damacio and his brothers would have to share clothes and shoes.

“I remember times when I would finish a race and have to run straight over to my brother and give him my shoes in order for him to start his,” said Danny, now 53.

Although the brothers did not have the best uniforms or shoes, what they did have was Coach White, a master of winning who did everything in his power to make sure his team was both physically and mentally prepared to come out on top.Coach White was supportive and built up his players, but his practices were no easy feat.

“He challenged us every day. Even the easy days were hard,” said former teammate Thomas Valles, who is now 55.

The team would practice for two hours, seven days a week, running in the fields and on hills, mainly in 100-degree weather. The many years spent working in the fields made the runners tougher for these practices.

The brothers, who were on the same team, constantly pushed each other to be the best they could be. According to all three brothers,there was competitiveness amongst them, but there was never any jealousy. If anything, these long, tiresome practices only brought the brothers closer together. The team became a second family to them and they treated each other with respect. The main thing they all shared was that they wanted to win for Coach White.

“He was a second father to us,” said David, now 54.

Coach White grew closer with the team outside of practice. He knew the struggles that his runners and their families faced, so he always made an effort to help them out. One thing Coach White did express to his team though, was the importance of education and how it could lead to a better life.

“He was the only teacher who told me I could be more than a field worker,” said Damacio.

In the 1987 season, California planned to hold its first-ever state championship in cross-country. Right before the season started, Coach White made team hats with four goals listed on them: win the league, win the region, win the valley, and win the state. There was a sense of expectation within the team, and they were fully ready to take care of business. Before they knew it, the team had completed three of the four goals, with only the state championship left to be conquered.

The 1987 McFarland cross-country state champions.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

“They kept winning, then the word started getting out and getting out and the community started getting more excited,” said their father Paul Diaz, now 84.

According to Damacio, on the day of the state meet there were no feelings of nervousness or doubt. The team was filled with confidence, since they felt Coach White had fully prepared them for this moment. Their mindset was that they would treat this meet as just another day at the office.

As the event was about to start, one thing was on Damacio’s mind. All the hours, all the training, all the practices in the hot sun had built up to this very moment. It was just up to them to execute and not let Coach White down.

By the end of the meet, as the scores were being calculated, they didn’t know who had won. Then came the results: McFarland topped the list. According to Valles, the runners cried and hugged one another as they celebrated their victory. They had won the first ever California cross-country state championship. All the time and effort they had put in proved to be worth it.

“It was a once in a lifetime experience,” said Coach Jim White, now 82.

The 1987 state championship was only the beginning for McFarland. They would go on to win eight more state championships over the years, all under Coach White.

Following the success of the first state title, the city embraced the cross-country program, as community leaders and businesses all started to pitch in, including by donating money. The success of the 1987 team would not only impact the way the community viewed the cross-country program, but how they viewed the Diaz family.

“After we won, there was a huge difference in how we were treated, looked at, and respected,” Damacio said. “The teams that followed us definitely benefited from that.”

Damacio running in a marathon.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

The Diaz family had become known as a family of runners, and more importantly as the family that helped put McFarland on the map.

David summarized feelings at the time: “The name Diaz is synonymous with McFarland, USA.”

After high school, Damacio continued to run at the collegiate level for College of the Sequoias in Visalia, CA, but his time as a runner was starting to wind down. He needed to figure out what to do next.

Officer Diaz

“From when I was a little boy, I wanted to be a cop. My whole life I wanted to become a cop,” Damacio said. “That was my goal.”

Damacio during his time as a police officer for Bakersfield PD.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

This came as no surprise to Damacio’s family as they always viewed him as fearless and the family had always thought very highly of law enforcement.

“The respect that our family, my brothers, my parents have for police officers is just WOW,” said Danny. “They protect our communities, they are brave, and they do phenomenal work in the community.”

For Damacio, the job of being a police officer was more than just protecting and serving your community, he loved the adrenaline rush that came with it. He always wanted to work night shifts, because that is when the evil is out and most action happens. He hated having days off, and could not wait for his Friday night shifts. He loved suiting up, putting on the badge and going out at night to see what was waiting for him. He was completely drawn to it.

A year into his career Damacio was plucked out of patrol and placed into specialized units. It is here that he began to discover the darker side of law enforcement.

“As a young cop in the department I worked for, I would see older guys or more experienced guys or seasoned guys bending the rules or working in the gray area; things that were a little bit shady,” said Damacio. “I never said anything, it was not my business.”

Damacio initially ignored these instances and focused on his job. He made a nice career for himself within the Bakersfield PD and began to make a life for himself outside of work, getting married and having five kids. According to Damacio, he ended up working undercover and started handling informants who were embedded in major drug organizations.

One day in 2012, after having a discussion with an informant he had been handling for years, the informant pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and gave it to Damacio. The informant claimed the money was a gift.

“I knew it was dirty money, I knew it was drug money, but I also lied to myself. I said to myself that I deserve it, I earned it,” Damacio said.

Damacio believed that after years of being an officer who was always in the middle of life threatening situations, always being the one to put his life on the line, this was indirect money for his service.

“That simple choice I made to grab that wad, and put it in my pocket, was the beginning of a period of total complete chaos. Lies, deceit, cover-ups,” said Damacio. “For me that simple thing that I did, which was just accepting a gift, was the worst day of my life.”

“I justified it, I believed that my purpose was greater than what was happening,” said Damacio.

Damacio began to not only partake in bribery as a cop, but started stealing marijuana and methamphetamine from the Bakersfield PD evidence room. With the help of the informants that he was handling, Damacio began to sell the drugs on the very streets he had sworn to protect, in order to make a profit. During this period, Damacio witnessed the drug organizations he was involved in hurt and traumatize many people and their families. He claims he will take the specifics of these events with him to his grave.

After months of being involved in illegal drug activity, Damacio came to the realization that he was in too deep. He was stuck, and there was no getting out of it. He tried to make up excuses to get out, but he knew that the drug organizations he was a part of would not take no for an answer.

“I felt like I was in quicksand, I kept myself deeper and deeper,” Damacio said. “I felt overwhelmed with pressure from both sides, I felt like I was suffocating.”

The most aggravating part to Damacio was that he had nobody to talk to. He could not tell his brothers, his bosses, and his wife what was going on. He was scared of being arrested by officers he knew, or of getting killed by the drug organizations he worked for.

The 1987 McFarland cross-country team at their hall of fame induction for College of the Sequoias in Visalia,CA.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

Around the same time, talks had begun to make a feature film on the 1987 McFarland cross-country team. After years in development, it got the green light. The film, from Walt Disney Pictures, focused in part on the Diaz brothers. It was shot in town, generating excitement in McFarland.

“The community was behind it all the way, they were available to meet the actors, get videos and autographs,” Coach White said. "The city responded very well.”

The Fall

One day while working with the informant who had given him the cash years before, Damacio sensed something strange. The informant began to ask him questions that seemed suspicious. He began to question Damacio on events he was not part of or present for.

“The roles felt reversed,” said Damacio, who suspected a trap.

He decided to play it off in the moment, but sensed that trouble was coming his way.

That night, Damacio went home and came clean to his wife about the criminal activity he had been a part of.

“She was broken, man. She was broken to listen and hear the words coming out of my mouth about the things I had experienced, the things I had been doing, the people I had met,” said Damacio.

It was a tough conversation for Damacio too, but it was the first time in a long time when he didn’t feel a weight on his shoulders.

The following day, he told his parents and brothers. Based on the behavior of his informant, he told them he expected either the FBI or DEA to come for him. His family was devastated, his brother said.

“Anger, disappointment, disbelief — if there was a word, it is disbelief, because that's not how we grew up,” said Danny Diaz.

After Damacio told them, his father stood up, gave his son a hug, and told him no matter what was coming his way, he and the rest of the Diaz family would have his back.

“This does not change one bit,” said Paul. “That does not change anything. My love for you, my appreciation and my respect for you.”

Days after this meeting with his family, Disney released the feel-good film “McFarland,USA''in hundreds of theaters nationwide. Media attention turned to the town of McFarland, and the Diaz family.

Damacio at a press junket for the Disney film "McFarland,USA."(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

A week after the release of the film, the FBI would interview him at their offices, where they arrested. The FBI had waited for the film to be released and arrested him when the media limelight was brightest.

Coach White asserts that the feds sought maximum attention. “Everybody is trying to make a name for themselves, this is what got him in trouble in the first place, because of the movie,” he said. “If the movie hadn't been part of his life he wouldn't have been caught.”

“Yes it does put a stain on our name, and it takes a long time for that stain to be made whole or washed off,” said Danny.

The news of the arrest began to spread, especially after a high profile press conference.

“Damacio Diaz committed crimes in a community he took an oath to serve and protect,” DEA Special Agent in Charge John J. Martin told local media. “In doing so, he betrayed the trust of the public and his fellow officers.”

Feeling a sense of betrayal, the community that once adored the Diaz family, quickly turned against Damacio and his family. They would post

“Just when it looked like things were finally getting good for our community, he goes and does something idiotic like this,” said one local resident who agreed to speak if he wasn’t identified because McFarland can be a very small town. “It was completely selfish and greedy, and did nothing but paint McFarland in a bad light.”

The community was completely outraged as articles and countless social media posts took aim at Damacio. The community was just not angry, they were hurt that a local hero had brought such shame down on the community.

“It was heartbreaking, it was a punch in the stomach,” said Valles.

After getting arrested, Damacio met with one of his best friends that he had worked with as a cop. That friend encouraged him to kill himself.

“He kept saying, you gotta eat your gun,” said Damacio. “You are devastating your family. Your wife is going to abandon you anyway, there is no way she is going to stay with you. She is going to divorce you. She is going to take everything you got. And your kids are going to be humiliated and ridiculed, because their dad is an inmate, and you're a convict. So do the right thing, and kill yourself.”

“It hurt, it hurt a lot,” said Damacio. “Mainly, because I did not see myself as a bad guy.”

He did take responsibility. Damacio pled guilty to three counts — bribery, tax evasion, and conspiracy to sell drugs. He accepted a plea deal for five years in prison.

Damacio during his time as an inmate in prison.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

“You don't want to wish this upon anybody,” said David. “This is something that is very difficult to go through and many don't make it out.”

After sentencing, Damacio began to shift his focus to the future, and the effect this all might have on his marriage, children, and his own life.

“It’s a scary thought, a lot can happen in five years,” said Damacio. But Damacio’s family rallied around him. His parents, six siblings, and Coach White all had a meeting, where all agreed to take turns every month to support him and his family during his time in prison. They sent him money in prison to buy food and toiletries and showed up to support his kids at their school events.

“It bonded us together,” said Paul. “It made the family so much stronger.”

With his family rallying, Damacio said that he shifted his attention to his new life in prison, which can be complicated for an ex-cop.

“The target on my back was going to be huge. My life was going to be brutal in prison,” said Damacio.

For the first couple of days, Damacio kept to himself and tried to stay busy by reading and working out, but he knew with so many cellphones in prison, it was only a matter of time before the other prisoners found out who the new guy was.

Within days, he began to notice a difference in how prisoners looked at him. Then on the sixth night, as he was preparing for a shower, six inmates attacked him.

“These guys were intent on taking me out,” said Damacio. “I was literally fighting for my life.”

Thinking of his wife and kids, Damacio fought back and stayed alive until guards intervened.

Damacio's wife Courtney speaks on the abuse her husband face while in prison. (Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

“I remember every moment of that attack,” said Damacio. “I didn't win that fight. Far from it, but I survived it.”

Damacio was placed in solitary confinement because of the fight, and ended up spending a total of 96 days alone in a tiny concrete cell with no windows. The only human interaction he had was when a guard would slip him a tray of food through a slit in the door. Being locked up in a box 24 hours a day, he began to feel like he was going insane. He did not know why he was being punished. He was completely alone and had nothing. He had reached rock bottom.

“All the simple pleasures of life that I knew were gone,” said Damacio. “I began fearing for my sanity. “I didn’t know how long I would make it like this.”

Finishing the Race

Following his release from solitary after more than three months, Damacio had a new outlook on life. He had developed a new relationship with God and concluded that there was a purpose to his suffering.

Click for bigger version

Soon after, he was transferred to a prison in Colorado and the situation wasn’t nearly as bad. He adapted to his life in prison — and he made sure to never trust anyone or let his guard down.

Three months into his time there, a guard called Damacio into his office. He was aware of the former runner and officer’s background. The guard asked if Damacio was willing to make a speech at the prison G.E.D. graduation ceremony in exchange for a pizza, burger, and some fries. Damacio did not know any of the graduates, but he agreed. He says that he couldn't pass up suchfood.

While writing the speech, Damacio reflected on his entire life. He recalled good times, as well as the bad. He thought about the trials he had faced and the lessons he learned.

A week later he spoke at the ceremony about the obstacles he faced as an athlete and the mistakes he had made during his time in law enforcement. He ended by stressing to never let your past define the person you currently are.

Damacio Diaz giving a speech at a prison graduation.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

“It’s about where you finish that truly matters,” said Damacio. “The legacy you leave behind is defined by how you finish the race of life. Not how you started it.”

The following day, the guard brought Damacio his special meal, along with some interesting news. The warden of the prison had been present during his speech and he thought it resonated very well with the prisoners. He offered him a job as the Coordinator of Education for the inmates. The job required Damacio to help inmates apply for programming and education in prison that can help them earn academic credit and increase their chance of being released early for good behavior.

“I went from being the most hated inmate in prison to the most popular,” said Damacio.

During the final two years of his sentence, Damacio helped hundreds of inmates improve themselves and gain early release. The job helped him to develop a new passion for helping people who had been discarded or abandoned turn their lives around. He found great satisfaction in helping them to get their lives back on track.

“I look at myself as a man who will serve others,” said Damacio.

After years in prison, Damacio’s release loomed. His wife was the only one present on the day of his release because he did not want his kids or parents there. He wanted to just spend the first day out with her.

Damacio and his family reunited.(Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

Their marriage had forced many sacrifices on her, but in the end it had brought them closer together and allowed them to be more open in their communication with one another.

Seeing his wife outside the walls of prison, Damacio was overcome with emotion. He was happy to finally be reunited with her and, later, his family. Partly, he was just amazed that he had made it back to them alive.

Instead of moving away — running from his past — Damacio decided to return to McFarland. He knew that his return would bring pressure and negativity from a community that felt deceived and betrayed, but he felt that he still had a lot to offer.

“It is important to me for people to see who I am now,” said Damacio.

In the beginning, Damacio dwelled on the opinion the community had of him, but over time he realized that the only opinion that truly mattered was the opinion he had of himself. He has become open about the negative impact he had to his town, and is willing to talk to anyone about it.

“I would tell him don't worry about the whispers, or the people, or the comments,or this or that, just continue to do the right thing,” said Danny.

Instead of trying to make the community believe he has changed, Damacio aims to show it through his actions. He and his family regularly partake in community and school events and even host a yearly 5k and 10k marathon that benefits the cross-country program. At these events he makes a point to show that he is not embarrassed or trying to hide his face.

“He's part of this community, people ask about him all the time, and all I can say is, ‘He is in the community,’” said Thomas. “As far I'm concerned he's paid his debt to society and he didn't give up, because his family didn't give up on him. A lot of people didn't give up on him.”

Along with his brothers and former teammates, Damacio now travels the country to schools and other events and gives motivational speeches. In his section, he speaks of his fall and how you need to pull yourself up and get back on your feet. He hopes these words will help someone with their own struggles to avoid the road he took.

David, Damacio, and Danny Diaz representing McFarland at a speaker event. (Photo courtesy of Damacio Diaz)

“We all have our own story and a chance to share that story,” said David. “Damacio’s story is one of a rebound.”

Three years after his release, Damacio is now focused on one thing, his legacy. The way he treats people and helps the community that made him the man he is is what matters most. He knows that not everyone in McFarland will forgive him for what he did, but if he can reach one or two, that’s a start.

“I think that my life is just beginning again,” said Damacio.