Scott Carper's nightmare drug bust on the border

Just three months after walking out of federal prison, Scott Carper is still processing a nightmare that began with what he thought would be a simple trip across the Mexican border for painkillers.

I’ve interviewed dozens of justice-impacted individuals on Nightmare Success, but Scott’s story hit me differently. Maybe it’s because we were both at Leavenworth—he graduated before I did, like classmates from the same brutal school. Or maybe it’s because his case represents something that terrifies anyone who’s ever made a catastrophically bad decision while battling addiction.

From Prom King to Pain Pills

Scott had what most would call a charmed life. Prom king, valedictorian, great parents—his dad was an attorney, his mom a teacher. He went to UC Santa Barbara, landed a successful career in advertising running billboards across Southern California and Las Vegas for CBS Outdoor.

Then came the injuries. First his back at 18, then a debilitating pelvic floor injury in his mid-twenties that doctors told him he’d have to live with forever. Pain medication became part of his daily routine. When he finally found treatment that helped the physical pain, he made a devastating discovery about himself.

“I liked pain pills,” Scott told me with the kind of brutal honesty that makes my interviews so powerful. “I did. And so when I was getting better and I didn’t need to take them, I could have stopped. Now I was already addicted to them.”

The Border Nightmare That Changed Everything

In October 2020, Scott’s addiction led him to Mexico for what he thought was a routine pill buy. He’d done similar trips before, always declaring the medications at the border. This time was different—and not because of anything he planned.

Someone he trusted had hidden massive quantities of methamphetamine throughout his car. Scott had no idea he was carrying enough meth to “populate an entire country,” as the prosecutor would later claim.

“I drove through the Mexican border not thinking a thing of this,” Scott explained. “They asked me to declare anything—yes, I’m declaring the pain pills that I had purchased. And it just so happens that a dog probably located the… I’m simplifying the story, but you get the gist of it.”

When the dog hit on his car, Scott was watching Rick and Morty on his iPad, completely oblivious to what was about to unfold. Within hours, he had handcuffs on and was facing 15 to 20 years in federal prison.

Fighting the Machine and Losing

Scott spent two years preparing for trial, convinced his innocence would shine through. He had character witnesses, a successful career, no history with methamphetamine. The prosecutor offered him a plea deal early on—just lying to a federal officer—but Scott was determined to fight.

He couldn’t have been more wrong about how it would go.

“I could not have been more wrong,” Scott admitted. “They didn’t care about any of that. As a matter of fact, that probably motivated them to go after me more. They’re like, ‘Let’s make an example of this kid,’ or ‘This kid should have known better.’”

The trial was a disaster. Evidence went missing, prosecutors made statements they couldn’t prove, and Scott’s legal team got caught off guard. After conviction, even the judge said, “I don’t think you knew, but you should have known.” Scott got 24 months and found himself on a plane to Leavenworth Federal Prison Camp—1,496 miles from his California home.

Fresh Perspective from the Other Side

What makes Scott’s story so compelling is how recent everything is. He walked out of the halfway house just weeks ago, still processing the weight of what happened. He spent four brutal months detoxing in prison after staff refused to continue his legal Suboxone prescription, worked in the kitchen washing tables by choice, lost 70 pounds, read 150 books, and excelled in the RDAP drug program.

But Scott’s biggest revelation came from helping other inmates with their legal cases—guys who had strong arguments but couldn’t organize them properly. “Sometimes we’re the best advocate for other people than we are for ourselves,” he reflected.

Even now, on the outside, the system keeps throwing curveballs. The halfway house initially rejected all three of his job offers—including work with prison consultants, a law firm, and his old advertising contacts. Only after Scott fought back in writing did they approve his employment.

“If people don’t fight back, they fall through the trap door,” Scott said, capturing the reality so many face during reentry.

Scott’s journey from successful businessman to federal inmate to advocacy warrior shows how addiction can destroy everything, but also how prison became “a big net positive” that forced him to confront his demons and find his purpose helping others navigate the same broken system.