After seeing how Ademo has been standing up for, not just his but, everyones constitutional rights that I currently fight to uphold being a Staff Sergeant in the United States Army I felt it was my duty to contact the Governor’s office regarding Ademo’s unjust arrest. Here is the email response I received from the New Hampshire Governor’s office. If you believe Ademo should be pardoned from some if not all of the unjust charges than contact the local legislator and request to modify the laws.
Ademo it will be up to you to contact the Governor’s office to request a pardon. [Editors Note: I (Ademo) will not be seeking a pardon for any "crime" the state has alleged I've committed. The record the state has provided me with means nothing, those close to me know I'm not a bad person and therefore have no need to seek a pardon.]
Email response from the governor’s office below.
“Dear Staff Sergeant Kasbohm,
Thank you for contacting the office of Governor John H. Lynch.
I am writing to acknowledge receipt of your correspondence and to let you know that due to the separation of powers established in the New Hampshire Constitution, it is not within the Governor’s power to overrule court decisions, or to get involved with pending legal issues.
If a citizen of New Hampshire would like to modify or alter the sentencing procedures here, they would need to contact their local legislators to discuss proposing a new law or modifying an existing one.
If Mr. Muller should like to request a pardon, he can contact our office directly.
Again, thank you for contacting the Governor’s office with your concerns. Please do not hesitate to contact our office again in the future if we can be of assistance.
Sincerely,
Sam Inman
Samuel Inman
Special Assistant for Citizen Services
Office of Governor John Lynch
107 North Main Street
Concord, NH 03301
(603) 271-2121″
Good luck at your appeal Ademo and I hope this information helps. Let us know if you will try to contact the governor to request a pardon. Everyone else reading this post start contacting your local legislators to change those unjust laws and help get rid of victimless crimes and the wasteful spending of taxpayer money.
- KAZ
Submitted using Copblock.org’s submission tab. If you have a story about police abuse we encourage you to share it with the network.
NOTE: Names have been changed to protect the identities and legal situations of the people involved.
I first met Joe during my sophomore year in college. We became fast friends, hanging out whenever we weren’t in class or at the library, and eventually became roommates the next year. Joe was always a pretty quiet and shy guy, but we got to know each other quite well over time and he gradually opened up more around me. I always knew him as generally a good person who had some struggles with depression, but I never thought anything would happen anywhere near what happened the first semester of my junior year.
We were both avid pot smokers, and because we were unemployed at the time we sold small amounts of weed – nothing too significant, just enough to have some money in our pockets – on and off. One night I was driving back from the store with another friend of mine when Joe called. He said that someone had gone into the room and stolen all our weed and cash when he was outside smoking a cigarette and to get back to our building as soon as possible. When I got back, Joe told me he had a decent idea of who might have robbed us, so we went to talk to the guy. Dave, the guy we suspected of robbing us, didn’t take the accusation well at all; he started yelling and pushed Joe to the ground but we walked away before it got out of hand and that was it for a while. To this day neither Joe nor I know for sure if Dave robbed us or if it was someone else, but pretty soon I basically forgot about it and thought Joe did too because our weed man was a great guy – he was understanding of the situation and agreed to front out product with a small interest fee so we could stay in business.
A couple weeks later, I had just gotten back from class when I heard a knock on the door. I had a bad feeling right away so I looked through the peephole before answering, and sure enough, it was the cops. I stepped out into the hallway, locked the door behind me, and the cops started asking if they could come in. Knowing my rights, I told them they couldn’t come in without a warrant and I wouldn’t answer their questions without a lawyer present. They kept trying and failing, refusing to leave until they talked to Joe as well. Joe eventually got back from class and told the cops the same thing, that they couldn’t enter our room without a warrant. Everything was normal except for a higher level of caution for the next couple weeks, but the overall mood was one of triumph because we had successfully kept the cops at bay. But things started going to hell pretty soon afterwards. Joe apparently never completely got over the robbery and was completely convinced that Dave had masterminded the whole thing, so he went out in the middle of the night and did a number on Dave’s car with some rocks. This was the first of a long list of things he did that fucked things up for both of us.
A few days after the incident with Dave’s car, the dean of students came to our room accompanied by school security and a few cops. The dean produced an internal search warrant, the document required by the housing contract for school officials to enter residences. Luckily neither Joe nor I was selling at the time, but he admitted to having a small amount of pot. Once his bag was located, the cops took over. I didn’t have much of anything in the room – they charged me with paraphernalia, which I’ll quite possibly be able to fight successfully – but they found a few hundred dollars and a scale in Joe’s desk. Because the amount of pot found was so small, the cops were unable to find enough evidence to show intent, but Joe’s downward spiral went out of control after that night.
Almost immediately after the search warrant, I started noticing Joe’s depression getting worse. He bought a huge bottle of Klonopin (a benzodiazepine, or type of downer) and started binging on it. The only time he wasn’t on Klonopin was when he woke up in the morning, and the first thing he’d do was pop a couple pills before class. He started getting even quieter and more withdrawn than usual, not even saying all that much to me beyond how much he hated Dave and how pissed off he was that we got arrested. He eventually stopped going to class and sleeping more and more. He also started stealing around the same time the binge started. It got so bad that I couldn’t take him to the store without him shoplifting something, and his favorite activity at night became car shopping. He rarely took anything of value at first; I think the stealing was more a way for him to briefly escape the reality of the legal situation and school discipline hanging over our heads.
Unfortunately, his stealing quickly escalated to more expensive things in much riskier locations as the disciplinary hearings got closer. Shoplifting turned into car shopping, car shopping turned into stealing bagfuls of books from professors’ offices, and stealing books turned into full-on burglary. The last weekend before finals week, I woke up Saturday morning to a phone call from my friend Chris. Someone had gone into his room the night before and taken his laptop and Xbox, as well as other electronics belonging to his roommate. Chris and I both suspected Joe because of his recent actions, causing me to look through Joe’s stuff when he wasn’t around, but I didn’t find anything from Chris’s room. Sunday morning I woke up quite hung over and decided to run to the store. I walked out to my car to find that the driver’s seat had been moved up and there were boxes of various electronics and other valuables on all the other seats. I called Chris over to see if his stuff was in my car – it wasn’t – so I went back to the room and asked Joe if he knew anything about the stuff in my car. It turns out that on Saturday night, after I was in a deep drunken sleep, he had broken into a nearby building and used my car to bring back what he stole. We got the stuff out of my car and Joe stashed most of it in an abandoned warehouse while he figured out what to do with it. He brought a few of the smaller things that could be quickly sold back into the room, which ended up being the fatal mistake.
A few days later, I was in the library working on my final paper for a class. I realized I’d forgotten my notes from that class in my room so I packed up and started walking back to my building to grab them. While I was on my way, Joe texted me saying to stay away from the room because he had a girl over and that he’d text me again when she left. Not wanting to violate man law, I decided to write what I could without my notes and then head to the bar for a while so he could do his thing. Several hours went by without him texting me, so I assumed he forgot but just in case I waited a while longer before going back to the room. When I finally got back, I found out that there was no girl – Joe was lying in a pile of blood and vomit, barely conscious, with several cuts going up and down his forearms. He told me he’d tried to commit suicide and when I asked him why all he said was “shit sucks” and “I don’t want to live anymore.” I called 911 to get him to the hospital and the cops found a few things he’d taken from the building he robbed the previous weekend. They also searched my friend Steve’s room, not finding anything stolen (which they claimed they were looking for) but finding his drugs as well as some I’d stashed in there to keep them away from Joe. Joe later admitted from the hospital that he had stolen Chris’s laptop and Xbox and told us where we could find them and seemed to genuinely feel bad about everything he’d done – Steve and I went to visit him and the first thing he said was “I fucked everything up, didn’t I?” Joe and I both ended up being kicked out of school; the official reasons for his expulsion were the indicia of dealing found in the initial search of the room and the reasons for mine were accusations of selling harder drugs such as cocaine (which I don’t even use) and making a violent threat, both false.
School situations aside, I firmly believe that if it weren’t for drug prohibition – especially cannabis prohibition – Joe would not have attempted suicide. I also believe that he wouldn’t have smashed up Dave’s car, robbed Chris, or broken into that building. Obviously he would have suffered from depression regardless of any law or lack thereof, but every one of the events that led to his downward spiral and eventual suicide attempt was made possible by prohibition. Whoever robbed us when we were selling – whether it was Dave or someone else – was in all likelihood another dealer looking to make some extra money. If not for prohibition, it would have been more like having a case of beer stolen and even if we had lost a lot of cash we would have had the option of trying to get it back through legal channels. Certainly not motivation to smash up a car. If not for prohibition, the tip that led to the room being searched wouldn’t have happened. Even if the cops had searched our room based on accusations of violence or violent threats, they wouldn’t have assumed “well, they have drugs so it’s probably true” and they would have realized that there was nothing more dangerous than a Swiss Army knife. There wouldn’t have been any charges, no reason for the school to discipline us, and no reason to send a mentally unstable person deeper into his depression, changing his drug habits and turning to stealing in search of a way out. If not for prohibition, we would still be in school. Joe would still be the quiet and shy guy he is, he still would have battled depression, but he wouldn’t have started stealing and his arms would be minus about 30 scars. Sad to think that compared to the other lives ruined or even ended by the war on drugs he’s one of the lucky ones.
- Anonymous
Send your stories (or videos) about police abuse, police issues and/or suggestions on improving police tactics to CopBlock.org, via the submission tab.
On December 21st, 2011 Bob Tebo, a bailiff at Cheshire Co. superior court in Keene, NH aggressively arrested two individuals who chose to remain seated when a man wearing a black robe entered the room. One of the two arrested was dragged across the courtroom floor by his handcuffs.
As cameras are “banned” from supposedly “pubic hearings” per a order signed order from Edwin Kelly, the sole footage of this latest example of double-standards is possessed by the bailiffs and those employed at the Cheshire Co. Sheriff’s Department (which has their office in the court building).
Kelly has stonewalled inquiries that seek to uncover his motivations for implementing the draconian camera ban. And despite requests, the footage from Tebo’s latest incident has yet to be provided and complaints made against him remain “under investigation.” It’s probably not a stretch to guess that that’ll go no where. And why would it? When there’s no competition there’s no reason to even attempt good “customer service.”
Instead of being thankful and acting on information provided by those concerned about double-standards, “public officials” have remained standoffish. They haven’t just refused to converse about the situation but have actively compounded the harm by levying additional threats of arrest, should those commanded not move off public property, most-recently going so far as to “ban” one person from the public parking lot without explanation.
It’s as if the legal land of the courtroom spilled outside. These sorts of incidents will not end until authority is no longer granted to Tebo and his colleagues who have acted and continue to act in the wrong.
If you'd like a CopBlock.org Power Post - as seen above - contact us.
Much love to JJ Schlessinger who’s latest video Judge Burke Victim Reelinspired me to cut-up this compilation of clear unaccountability by “public officials” at superior court.
Phoenix police say that someone stole a container full of
explosives from them during a training exercise at
Sky Harbor International Airport. They assure us that these
explosives are stable and can't be detonated by someone who doesn't
know what he is doing.
I am the victim that is getting no attention from the media! Notice how they put non-life threatening I was just at the wrong place, wrong time I ending up getting shot in the neck FEB 06 2011 as i was sitting shot the officer came & still put the handcuff on me while there was a 40cal bullet in my left joint I am thankful for surviving I owe the lord my life but what im upset about is I owe 100,000 in medical bills with insurance covering 90% which when they investigate will rise to a million dollars! today i just ask for support from anyone thats been through this police brutality i am forever scared and just wish justice would really be served.. i need advise im sewing RPD but I doubt ill win =’/ there was no hit and run and there was no second shooter!!
The man was arrested and another suspect was being sought, the Press- Enterprise reported on its website.
Police were called about 1:15 a.m. about a hit-and-run accident and a person with a shotgun in the 9400 block of Miller Street.
Arriving officers saw a man with a loaded shotgun who pointed the weapon toward a crowd of people who were running away and an officer shot at him, the newspaper reported.
Two people were taken into custody, and one was hospitalized with a non- life threatening gunshot wound.
Jose Oyarce, 18, of Corona, was booked into the Robert Presley Detention Center on suspicion of assault with a deadly weapon and illegal possession of a loaded firearm.
Meantime, another officer encountered a male shooting toward the responding officers and a second officer-involved shooting occurred, but the male escaped on foot, the newspaper reported.
CopBlock.org is partaking in, “the largest online protest in history, to stop the internet censorship bills, SOPA & PIPA. Join in by blacking out your site and urging everyone you can” to take notice. This is what happens when you allow government regulation into a market place. They try to censor people under the color of law and to protect you.
The internet gives us all a voice, the tall, the small, the important and the worthless. We’re equal here, we’re free here. Why would you allow politicians, leaders or anyone to control what you already do with your mouse. If you don’t like something there is no need to ban it, simply don’t visit it. You have all the control you need right at your finger tips.
This is about money and control, please don’t stand for this.
CopBlock.org will be blacked out entirely from 8am – 8 pm Jan 18th, with SOPA & PIPA there is no CopBlock.org, and another industry will be over run by government.
Several months ago Ademo Freeman was arrested outside Keene District Court in Keene, New Hampshire. Initially there was a lot of mystery surrounding the circumstances and what he did to get arrested. Early reports indicated that he had simply been asking Judge Burke some questions and the idea that asking questions could get you thrown in jail was too absurd to accept.
Ademo was released roughly two weeks later and his video of the incident was available shortly thereafter. After watching the video and witnessing myself Judge Burke’s abuse of power I felt inspired to cut up a compilation video of the people who have been victimized by Burke. Ademo was literally caged for asking questions. No foul language or threats were heard from Ademo, only three questions.
This is not a complete compilation by any means.
This video contains the arrests of the following individuals:
Ian Freeman
Dave Ridley
Pete Eyre
Beau Davis
Ademo Freeman
Derrick J Freeman
—————————————————
I was arrested on January 24th, 2011 and held for half a week. A week after that I wrote and saved (but never published) a post I titled “Pete’s Story.” Seems pretty fitting to share it here:
The below is my account of what happened two weeks ago when I was sitting in Keene district court and the following days. It’s pretty thorough, but if you have specific questions that aren’t addressed let me know.
BACKGROUND
Just before 10am on Monday, January 24th, Ademo, Ethan Lee Vita and I braved the subzero temperature and walked to Keene district court. We did a Qik update on the way. We went inside and up the steps to the second floor, where a few people were milling around, including two bailiffs doing security detail.
Lance Walton, one of the two bailiffs and the administrator of the court, spotted me and told me to take off my hood (I had my hat on with my hood over it). I told him I was cold but after his second request I pulled it down, figuring it’s not worth the fight. I was there to support my friends, not deal with petty bs. Lance wanded and patted me down and looked inside my hat. He gave the all clear. I put my hat back on and strolled down the hallway into court.
ARREST
I walked toward an empty seat. Before I had even sat down another bailiff – Pete Macy – told me to remove my hat. “Why?” I asked. He told me it was policy of the court. I told him that I hadn’t signed the policy and that I wasn’t hurting anyone. He reached for my hat and I leaned back and advised him not to touch my property. My voice was calm and my hands were in the pocket on the front of my hoodie staying warm – I did nothing aggressive.
Moments later Keene police officer James Cemorelis barked “You’re out of here!” and yanked me to the ground. My friends whipped out their cameras and started recording. For no reason, Keene police officer Matt Griffon, who had been sitting in the front row, put his knee at the base of my neck as he assisted Cemorelis in the handcuffing (read a letter sent to Cemorelis about his actions). I tried to express just how uncalled for was the treatment I was receiving. I was roughly carried out of the room, down the hall and into another room. Another bailiff, apparently undeterred by the “Do Not Block Door” sign bolted to the door, stood in front of the door in an attempt to block Ademo from filming the scene through the door’s narrow vertical window.
From the ground, I asked the officers why they felt the need to utilize such a level of force. I glanced up and posed a question specifically to Griffon (his name was embroidered onto his shirt). Apparently he didn’t want to have a conversation. Griffon and police officer Chris Simonds (?) carried me toward the back staircase. As we approached, one of my captors commented, “I hope you don’t fall on your head”. I asked why, if that risk exists, would they choose to transport me – a peaceful person – in such a manner. Didn’t seem worth the risk…
Outside I was set on the ground in the snow as a cruiser door was opened. My bud JJ was there, camera in hand. I was shoved across the police crusier’s plastic molded bench seat and transported to the Cheshire County Jail.
I learned later that minutes after I was arrested someone else present in the same room donned a hat. Yet for some reason they received completely different treatment – some claim that was due to their different attire.
TRANSIT I asked Simonds if he felt the level of force used against me was just. He responded in the affirmative since that was the law – he had his orders. I asked if he would use deadly force against me for similar allegations. He said that was ridiculous. “Well what if you were so ordered?” I asked. “Of course not” he responded. “So, at what point between the force you used against me today and shooting me would you say “No!”? At what point would you stand up and do what’s right?” He didn’t respond.
Soon we pulled into the sally port at the jail. I could hear men talking. The door by my feet opened. I was told to sit up and get out. I explained that though I would not resist, I would not assist in my caging since it was I who had been victimized. I was dragged out feet first, carried inside and placed on the floor of the closest cell in the booking area. My hands were still handcuffed behind my back. I remember looking to my right, seeing a forest of black combat boots and thinking “There is no accountability for these guys. They could just beat the hell out of me right now and claim that I was aggressive.”
My handcuffs were removed and the gang of grown men yanked off my hoodie and workout pants. The cell door slammed shut. I lay on my stomach on the cold concrete floor in my thin gym shorts, t-shirt and socks, replaying the previous 30-minutes over and over in my head, trying to figure out how someone could possibly try to justify the treatment I had endured by “public servants”.
BOOKING I was asked to provide my information for processing. Why would I willingly provide my private information to strangers who kept me caged? I was asked what name I wanted to go by in their system. I responded, “I just want to be free to go man. I haven’t hurt anybody.” “Ok”, came the response, “Free to go man” is your name. I didn’t laugh.
After a while I sat up and faced those who carried me into the cell. I figured that if I were out of sight my captors could more-easily put me out of their mind, thus allowing them to belittle or rationalize the force they used against me.
At 1pm, 4:30pm, 6:15pm, 8:15pm and 10:45pm correction officers approached my cell and pressured me to process. The 3/4″ Global Security Glazing glass muffled our communication. During later visits the correction officers opened the door to talk with me (presumably it took half a day for these folks to realize that I was not violent).
My cage was constructed of institution-white cinder blocks, each about 18″ long and 8″ tall, making the interior dimensions of my cell about 9′ 9″ deep, 8′ 3″ wide and 7′ 4″ tall. The front wall facing the elevated booking area was primarily made of glass and the heavy steel door. When it was light out I could catch glimpses of the stars and stripes flying outside. Land of the free, huh? A narrow elevated slab of concrete along one wall, painted red, served as the bed. There was a steel comode/sink with three buttons. One flushed the commode. The other two both ran cold water. I was told if I were thirsty the sink faucets doubled as a “bubbler”.
At one point I noticed a gentleman talking with the correctional officers manning the front desk. He stuck out to me because in lieu of a silly costume he wore slacks, a black turtleneck and a light blazer. I later learned he was Rick Van Wickler – the superintendent of the facility.
After explaining to one correction officer who stopped by my cell – J. Richard – that I hadn’t harmed anyone and that my caging only compounded and exacerbated the harm already inflicted, she noted that what I had done was a “victimless crime”. I followed-up on her statement by noting that when arbitrary man-made legislation conflicts with natural law one must side with the latter. She didn’t agree. She was just doing her job after all.
No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible. – Stanislaw J. Lec
Night came. It was cold. I sat on the floor, legs pulled to my chest with my t-shirt over my knees and my head tucked inside to maximize warmth. I was still damn cold. I wrapped toilet paper around my exposed legs (I learned this tactic from Ademo, who turned himself into a toilet paper mummy when being held in a cold cell in Las Vegas earlier in the year). My feet, with layers of toilet paper under white ankle socks, looked like bloated marshmallows. And they were happier. The heat-sapping concrete now had a couple of layers of toilet paper to get through. Sleep came in short 30min snatches.
After a long, uncomfortable night, I was asked to process. I declined. Hours passed.
ARRAIGNMENT M. Willis asked if I wanted to speak with the judge. “Sure”, I said, “but I’m going to tell him the same thing I’ve been telling you” – that I haven’t hurt anyone.
I was escorted through the facility and instructed to sit in a chair while the video link connected with Keene district court. Initially there was a technical delay. I largely remained silent, not too keen to be buddy-buddy with someone willing to place and keep peaceful people in cages against their will. He was adamant that his policy, which does not investigate whether someone deserves to be caged, is best.
Why would someone unthinkingly take possession of another human being and place them in a cage without having more information? As I told Willis, the system does not result in “checks and balances” but unaccountability. Every individual involved – legislators, bailiffs, cops, correction officers, judges – claims that they personally are not to blame for your predicament but that you can fix it if only you talk to someone else.
Once the video link was made, Burke explained that he needed two things from me – 1) to identify and 2) for me to indicate whether I planned to apply for counsel. “Well, frankly,” I noted, “what I’d like to see is for the bailiff to apologize to me for using aggressive force” but Burke cut me short.
Burke claimed that I was “presumed innocent,” causing someone in the audience out of my field of vision to laugh. Burke ordered them removed.
I told Burke that they day prior I felt like the victim (i.e. tackled, carried, caged). Then Ademo spoke his mind for about 40-seconds (~4:00), ending with: “One of your men assaulted him! Assaulted him!” and “Get a life!”
Burke wasn’t too fond of what he heard and ordered those doing his bidding to handcuff Ademo and remove him from the room (note that Ademo had been walking out of the room on his own accord, and was only feet from the door). He was brought across my field of vision and into the room to Burke’s left.
Burke told me it was “up to me” to comply to gain my freedom. I told him that he had “the ability to throw this out and say there shouldn’t be a charge. I didn’t hurt anybody.” Burke said “Ok. Alright. I guess we’re not going to get anywhere. Thank you” and left.
Willis led me back to my cage, informing me not to breath deeply when in the lobby area as his colleagues had had to “deploy mace”. Against a lady.
I worried about Ademo. I hoped they cut him loose. I watched the sliding door that opened into the booking area, hopeful that I wouldn’t see him.
I was told that I was going to be moved since I’d reached the 24-hour-maximum stay in booking.
Then in came Ademo carried by a group of men wearing badges. We exchanged glances. He was placed on the floor of a cell two away from mine. He held up six digits and mouthed/yelled that he had been given a 60-day sentence. “What the hell!?” was all I could say as I was being led away.
I was told that I had to first take a shower. I stripped, lifted up my scrotum and spread my cheeks for Willis. Then I took a quick shower (which helped to warm me up) and put on jail duds. Fun fun. As I was led to my new cage other inmates looking through the window on their doors yelled down to my captor, “What’d he do?” Why is he going in there?”- the “there” being segregation.
SEGREGATION I was told I would kept in the cage for 23-hours a day. I eyed the thin, plastic-covered mattress sitting up on the metal frame bed bolted to the wall. I laid down. A short time later a correctional officer brought me blankets and some toiletries. I turned myself into a human burrito and tried to sleep.
I didn’t eat. I was told that if I continued not to eat I’d end up in a hospital being fed via an IV. Days later I questioned my stance – if I wasn’t eating because I didn’t want to burden taxpayers wouldn’t ending-up in a hospital defeat that principle? Hospital tends to be damn spendy after all…
I chewed on the few options that I had any control over.
I called Lance. It was around 11am. I told him about my last 24-hours and he updated me on the activity happening on the outside, specifically mentioning the Chipin George Donnelly created to help pay for a press release distribution.
Correctional officers peered through the window in my cage door on their rounds (hourly?), sometimes shining a flashlight my way. During mealtimes I was offered food. I declined.
On Wednesday Van Wickler stopped by my cage in the early afternoon and asked if I would like to speak with my mom. “Of course!” I responded. We walked to the phone, Van Wickler read her number while I dialed, then he left. It was good to talk with her.
Over the two-and-a-half days I was in segregation Van Wickler visited my cell about five times for a total of 45-60-minutes. He’s pressured me to process. He brought two copies of documents that outlined the information that I’d be required to share if I were to process.
During one visit Van Wickler asked his colleague to leave us so he could talk with me alone. He asked if I thought Burke was concerned with my actions in the jail and answered his own question with a single “No.” And, despite agreeing with me that the force that had been used in my situation was uncalled for he was unwilling to let me out. He had keys to the facility. He could act on his conscious.
At one point it was communicated to me that Ademo had processed and was going to be released later that evening. I hoped it were true, but doubted it. Like cops, correctional officers lie.
I thought through potential avenues to gain justice. I had lots of time to think and do some internal creative destruction about strategy, tactics, relationships with people, incidents, etc.
On Thursday I wasn’t able to reach Lance when I tried his number. I only remembered three other numbers – Ademo’s, which didn’t help, Allison Gibbs and Ian Freeman. I called Ian as my ultimate goal was to reach Michele Seven to see about getting picked-up if I did process. Ian was more than happy to help and conference called us all together. I informed them of where I was at and learned that M7 had unfortunately slipped a couple of times when in Keene exiting the district court and wasn’t too mobile. Ian offered to grab me so long as he could get an exemption on his no trespass, which stemmed from the insane arrests last year that became known as the Trespass of Twelve.
I decided I could have a bigger impact on the outside. I decided to process.
At one point when in segregation Van Wickler asked me if I knew “Brandon Ross” who he said had claimed to be my lawyer. I noted that Brandon was “a friend” and Van Wickler commented that a case like ours didn’t necessitate multiple lawyers (since Lance Weber had already been communicating with me and Ademo). Later, after I processed, I learned of the work Brandon did behind-the-scenes for us. At one point he had been told by Van Wickler that he’d be able to see me in segregation. Ross made the drive from Concord and waited six hours but was denied access entirely. I was never informed of his visit.
PROCESSING Thanks to lengthy time delays, sub-par “customer service” and accepted bureaucracy, it would be impossible to not know I was interacting with a government agency when processing. I sat in a chair in front of the counter and answered questions posed by Willis. My picture was taken – each side and straight-on. My fingerprints were taken and checked via IAFAS, the FBI’s database. Willis told me my fingerprints would be deleted automatically if they returned no hits. Sure.
I had questions about some of the stipulations on the paperwork Van Wickler had provided me. “Why was the check-box next to: ‘Is ordered not to drive until the defendant’s license or privilege is restored by the Director of Motor Vehicles’ checked?” I asked. “Or why am I to ‘refrain from excessive use of alcohol, and use of a narcotic or controlled substance as defined in RSA 318-B’?” Willis claims to not have known.
The bail commissioner – an angry man named Frank J. Obuchowski arrived. After getting his paperwork and “official” stamp laid out he barked orders at me. I stopped him and asked him why he thought it necessary to speak with such a hostile tone. Another inmate – who was a big dude – turned from watching the TV to us. Obuchowski quieted down some, but before leaving he made a point to tell me that he spoke that way so there was no question what he was communicating.
I asked him about the two check-boxed items. On the paperwork he brought the drivers license stipulation was not checked. He read to me that I could not have any alcohol or controlled substances. I pointed-out that on the form I had it just stated no “excessive” use of alcohol. He looked it over and, on his copy, angrily wrote the word “excessive” above to the sentence. Then I asked him how “excessive” is defined, and who gets to do the defining. He didn’t have an answer.
My arraignment is scheduled for Wednesday, February 9th at 9am. The paperwork threatened me with increased penalties if I were arrested when out on bail. I thought I was innocent until proven guilty. What if I were arrested by another out-of-control cop for a victimless action?
Obuchowski told me I owed him $40. Van Wickler, who had been hovering around the lobby through this proceeding, had earlier told me when I brought up that the fee was the man’s “bread and butter”. He indicated that it didn’t have to be paid. Sounds good to me. I told Obuchowski that I didn’t have any money (I didn’t), that this fee had not been mentioned earlier and that it was unfair for him and his colleagues to continue to add additional criteria so that I could regain my freedom of movement. He said, “Well who’s picking you up? Maybe they have money.” No dice buddy.
Then Obuchowski told me that I had to go to the Keene Police Department before 4pm (it was 2:30pm). I questioned why this was added? And at who’s direction? No one gave me any information.
Van Wickler called Ian and “granted” an exemption on the no trespass order. Soon he was on-scene and I was out.
In the five or ten minutes I had been waiting Van Wickler told me about how he’d recently declared three Cuban cigars on his flight back from Canada, where he had spoken to parliament about drug policy (Van Wickler is a speaker with Law Enforcement Against Prohibition). He explained that he’d been barred from bringing the cigars across an imaginary line so he gave them to a taxi driver. If one can see the failures of drug prohibition then why not stand against all victimless “crimes”?
FREEDOM As I climbed into Ian’s car he handed me a meal replacement drink Meg Mclain had wanted me to have. Perfecto! I put out a Keene411 to announce my freedom and to see if any friends in the area wanted to join us for a bite at a Mexican place in town. About 16 did, despite the short notice.
After the hugs, conversation and burrito (thanks Heika!) I was reminded at just how many awesome individuals make up this community. It was exactly what I needed.
THOUGHTS
The support Ademo & I have received has been amazing. Thanks so much! It has not only had very real impacts for us but it shows others that we’re here for each other, which may make them more-likely to stand up for what they know is right.
Does it make sense that individuals who have harmed no one end up in cages? Though I can’t authoritatively speak for everyone I think it’s fair to say that we each are standing on principle, despite the threats levied at us, knowing that failure to do so today will make it more difficult tomorrow.
If a law is unjust, a man is not only right to disobey it, he is obligated to do so.
– Thomas Jefferson
When I wrote to the Chief of Police, in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan about the Police breaking into my home and how I was put into handcuffs and beat so bad that I had to go to the hospital and also have plastic surgery. A few weeks later and I still have pain and problems from the beating. The lawyers from the Jeff Fieger Law office, a Leon Weiss was in with the police and told me I had to sign a paper and say that I would not sue the police department or the Police would for sure see to it that I was going to jail for something that I did not even do. So, I did sign and I was found guility and had to pay thousands of dollars in fines, could not drive for one year, was on probation for one year and now I am a felon. The police officer that kicked in 3 doors in my home and shot it up with a taser gun told that I did not drive bad, did not drive too fast, I just looked suspicious because I had on a leather coat and was driving in Blooomfield Hills, Michigan.
