For more than a decade, James W. Ray was trapped in a fog of drugs and mental illness. In and out of hospitals and emergency rooms, he sometimes landed in halfway houses or jail, one step from the streets.
He told anyone who would listen that he was a rich man. That his family once had a 110-room mansion with masterpieces by Rembrandt and Renoir, and ancestral portraits by John Singer Sargent. That his great-granddad owned a racetrack in Miami.