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News :: Miscellaneous |
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LongerLetterLater: More Details Of Arrest As Promised |
Current rating: 0 |
by marco
(No verified email address) |
12 Jul 2002
Modified: 24 Jul 2002 |
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This story is by an IndyMedia reporter arrested after taking pictures of a cop surveilling anti-Bush demonstrators in Milwaukee on July 2. ML |
4 July, should have extra meaning for me this year, taking into account that I got out of jail 2july. Freedom, right? How free? Really free?? Free to choose between coke and pepsi? Democrat/republican?? A 14mpg SUV or one that gets 16?? Nah, I don't feel very free. Do you? Let me tell you about my July second. I was already protesting Homeland Security and a bunch of other issues when George W Bush showed up in Milwaukee. So I decided to drive there and take some pictures for Indymedia.
At our last meeting all reporters said they wouldn't be able to make this protest. I've been hearing about the recent trend to keep the Press 4-5 blocks away from expected dissent. Among other things, I find that absolutely frightening. Well, the first thing I saw when I began looking for a parking space was a patrolwoman with a polaroid camera on her shoulder and a camcorder in her hands across the street from the protesters getting headshots, fullshots and group photos of everyone. Yes, of course I had every intention of making her my first photo. Face to face would make a great visual; and hopefully while her camera was rolling. That one didn't come out because I hadn't advanced my film enough. Oh well. I got two others from a little more distance. http://atlanta.indymedia.org/front.php3?article_id=6069
I managed to get three more photos of other people while making my way across the street to join the protest, before I was quickly jumped on by someone who looked like he was either Secret Service or FBI. "Why did you take those photos, what are your pictures for, who are you," a ton of questions. "What do you have against the patrolwoman, what do you have against law enforcement." I told him I was taking them for indymedia and I was going to put them up on the net.
"What's your name, lemme see some ID." I told him he was going to have to treat me like an ordinary citizen jogger; unless I was under arrest that moment, I'm not taking out my ID." He covered his badge with his hand and walked away telling me "you'd better just keep it like a jogger then."
He walked by me another time or two demostratively covering his badge with his hand and giving me a dirty look. By now he was a few feet off the curb in the street facing our crowd, arms folded so you couldn't see his badge and watching me way more than the rest of the crowd. One could say he was staring at me. I then put my camera just inside an open pocket in my bookbag, pulled out my drivers license, showed my other empty "non-furtive" hand and walked toward him slowly holding up my ID, saying, "OK, I'll tell you what, I'll show you my ID, you show me your badge, ok? Fair is fair."
He gave me a confused look, then looked at the bicycle cops who were right near me that moment, pointed at me and said, "OK, cuff him and take him across the street."
The two bicycle cops jumped me, one other I didn't see from behind, and dozens of other cops moved in, including a large man on a huge brown horse. (which I wasn't aware of yet.) I shook the camera from my bag to the ground and gave it a soccer instep kick toward the protest hoping someone might develop it and post it on their own on indymedia or something, or perhaps get it back to me somehow. At that point a couple of the arresting officers left me and rushed toward the crowd demanding that they return the camera to them. No one complied. I heard them threaten to arrest everyone if the camera was not returned to them, and I think I heard them swear a lot. They seemed panicked and very disturbed. Dare I say belligerent.
They had me face down on the pavement when it got really dark around me. By that I mean something was suddenly blocking my sunlight. I turned my head as much as I could and I saw the crome cover of a hoof just above my head. The horse was towering over me and shaking obviously even more terrified than I was. I panicked. I started wiggling off to my right assuming the cops would keep a hold on me and just trying to get as far away from the horse as I could, steadily but quick enough to not spook the horse any more. Two cops let me go and one still held my left ankle.
I remember trying to break free of his hold and I honestly don't know if I was going to just stand there further away from the horse and let them continue their arrest, or try to make a run for it. Like I said, I panicked. I thought I was going to be trampled to death so was trying to slowly and steadily get away from that horse. Anyhow, a handful of additional citycops beat me back onto the ground, got my hands back behind and cuffed me with the chrome "lock and key" handcuffs.
They took me across the street where I sat on a curb for a very long time so they could all interview each other and figure out if they even had anything they could legitimately charge me with. "He wouldn't get back up on the curb," "he tried to get away," "wasn't respectful to the feds," "he filmed that chick cop." (their words, not mine) They were one big buzz of confusion for a very long time. During this time, about three horses each took turns peeing on the grass about 8 feet behind me. Many of the cops seemed to think this was amusing. Looking back at a calmer moment I see this as further harrassment not to mention a mild health hazard.
Then a Secret Service man, and a local detective each gave me very short interrogations, you know, home fone, name birthdate, etc. but they saw the broken m-16 A patch on my book bag and suddenly started grilling me about what kind of anarchist I was, etc.
After a while they put me in a van with two trek bikes, and I had to wait to be transported. Oh, earlier on, I forgot to mention that while they were dragging me away, the crowd started chanting "homeland security, homeland security" and I stretched to look at them, and they were pointing to the arresters handling me, they began to right me and let me walk on my own next to them, and I began walking extra tall and extra proud hearing the chant.
OK, into the van in front of one of the bike cops. Officer Staedler. A fairly nice man about my age, nice enough for a cop. Kind of reminded me of me way back when I was in the army signal corps. Half in, (mindset wise) half on the bike trails and stuff. You know, hoping to be a civilian "ASAP." They asked him if he wanted to keep his sidearm, how did he feel. He looked me over a couple times, and told them he didn't need his gun. The two of us sat there talking about the weather, bikeriding, what do I do for a living, etc.
Of course every last part of that stuff in my life is always a perfect opportunity to share my commitment to nonviolence after quitting the army, how I want to non-violently overthrow the government and make everybody play by the old golden rule and just be nice to each other, put their toys away, etc. In comes a Secret Service dude. Business suit, girdle, holster, everything. Badge out already. Addresses me by my first name. (I never know what to make of these guys, I'm serious. I met one when AL Gore came to Green Bay campaigning and this SS Agent was friends with both Tipper AND Frank Zappa, said Stink-Foot off the APOSTROPHE' album was his favorite of all, etc.)
OK, today's SS Agent tells me "I'm going to be completely up front with you, Marc. We don't have a warrant to search your car. It would take a couple hours or a couple days to get one. My bosses are making me layer three additional federal charges over your local arrest, but I'd prefer to keep this just a local thing. If you'll give me permission to search your vehicle, and it all checks out, I can assure my bosses you don't have any weapons, drugs, bombs or anything like that and everything will be OK. I'll recommend they don't add any of the federal charges. It could save you a few nights in jail. Would you do that for me?"
I looked him dead in the eye and said "I know my rights even though they bungled this all up and never read me 'em and I know where you're going with this. Against my better judgement I'll give you permission. I have nothing in there I'm worried about. The only thing you're going to see is a huge poster that says 'love my country; fear my government' and at this stage of the game I'd prefer you have to read it anyhow." He had them grab my keys out of my pocket, and then officer Staedler helped position a paper and pen behind my back and let me know when it was just right so I could sort of sign my name.
They transported me to somewhere and I must say for most of the time I had no idea where I was being brought to and from. It was all very confusing. Entering and leaving places. Stopping, sitting in a hot van, asking to sit on the back gate instead of inside with the two bikes, starting up, stopping again, etc. After giving me my citations, they formally booked me as if I'd been given felonies or misdemeanors, when they were finally only municipal citations. They held me another hour or so, then a detective called for me and interrogated me for two and a half hours before putting me back in the "bullpen" to await release and getting my posessions back.
While I was being interrogated, two people waiting outside for me were told I had been released at 11 am, so they went home. I was in fact released about 4:30 pm.
No one knew it yet, but I was moved through three different jails. It was very creepy. At the second jail, I found out that the only reason they were stopping with me there was that two of my arresters were out of their precinct and had to get some of their things. Once inside about about half a dozen cops joked around with each other right in front of me that the dispatcher hadn't been informed of my wherabouts. "You didn't call her? I didn't call her. Who called her? She doesn't know we're here. Hey Marc, they don't even know you're here. No one knows where you are."
The one who had to formally escort me through the system, (I believe they call it "conveying arrester" now) looked at me, back at them then me again and he could tell I had a very worried look on my face. Every book, movie, and article I'd ever seen about police brutality was flashing through my mind at this time. He told me not to worry, we're only going to be there another couple minutes, they're getting stuff for the rest of their day, and we're on our way to my final point from here, and that's where the dispatcher is and they'll call her on their way to there. I tried not to worry.
Frankly it was the only time I've ever feared for my life in a jail before. I get there and they seem to do everything by the book as near as I can tell, although the cops and dispatchers, clerks and supervisors are all incredibly fratenizing toward each other and all the people being processed, (especially females) which is how I learned Wendy Shaw's name who may be an expert witness after all, because she placed the call to my conveying arrester's superiors where he could ask if leading my arrest was legal or not, should he stay with me from beginning to end or transfer me to a different patrolman. Apparently they told him to stay with me while they look it up.
I'm not entirely sure about the "look it up" part because I got that as hearsay in the bullpen from one of the other guests. They took fingerprints a few different ways. Old fashioned prints, or should I say the newer version of those where they use what reminded me of invisible ink. Butane or something. And then a huge machine with scanning capabilities and some kind of modem. They did each finger singly, then each finger rolled, then the sides of my palms, then the entire palms. Sent me into the bullpen to await what I was told would be my release in a little while.
After the usual balogne and whitebread sandwiches and warm water in styrofoam cups, and quite a wait, a patrolman escorted me to an interrogation room saying "I don't know what a detective wants you for, must be to do with your arrest or something." A detective started the thing off with a lie about even though he's seen my drivers license and it looks legit and seems to check out, they're going to run it a second time along with my prints and use all this new high tech wizardry and in a couple hours either I'll be released to the streets or they'll keep me overnight depending on the feedback from the fingerprint machine. In the meantime he's going to ask me a series of questions.
The only other lie I remember him telling me was that he wasn't very computer savvy and he wanted me to help him understand how to get around the various different indymedia sites, and my own music webpages. After the interrogation we chatted about computers because he said he might open a hotmail account and start participating in debates on indymedia because although he's conservative libertarian on many issues, he thinks he's pretty liberal on others. And he mentioned that that's how he learns.
Anyways, the topic of spam and spyware came up somehow and I recommended he download and run a program called Ad-Aware which is public domain and can isolate and remove almost every kind of spyware out there. "Oh I have that and I run it a couple times a week." Umm. He's quite the netizen if he knows to run that already. I think the program is less than a year old. But I digress.
He started his line of questioning to do with two things they'd uncovered in my car. (thanks to the SS) One of the four CD's in my glove compartment entitled "Marc's Homemade CD," and stickers that I give away everywhere I go that says "do you download?" on the top, and two website URLs where people can acquire almost every .mp3 and .rm I've ever made and listen for free. He was fascinated with these. What I found most humorous amusing and actually quite helpful was when he wanted to know if my CD was audio or data, spoken word or music, and did the CD also stand for Civil Disobedience." Well, it didn't before our discussion. Does now.
When he veered too far from those kinds of chatty topics I had two things on my mind. 1) if I might reach a moment where I felt I should demand an attorney be present before continuing (he took us close many times.) 2) the only things I wanted to talk about. a) how proud I was to volunteer every extra hour I have to indymedia as a complete alternative to the corporate press b) how convicted I was that the School of Americas must be shut down
He asked me all kinds of wacky questions like do I have it in for Bush, and would I have it in for Al Gore as much if he wins in 2004, what does the broken M-16 part of my Anarchy symbol on my book bag mean, do I know how he can tell the difference right away between a violent black bloc anarchist and a non-violent blac bloc, etc. He asked me if there's any dangerous groups in Green Bay he might want to keep his eye on when he'd given up asking about Milwaukee groups and I told him there's probably all kinds but I wouldn't tell him even if he knew.
So I told him about my work with our local mayor getting rid of all the National Alliance stickers from all the stop signs and signal boxes, telephone poles etc. He claimed to never have heard of them so I explained that they're a neo-nazi group prone to violence and will definitely be more trouble for him keeping things peaceful than any protesters he'll ever encounter.
Oh, something that really creeped me out. I know that the police gave up looking for my camera at some point well after questioning and searching about a dozen different people in the crowd. I explained that my intentions were to put the patrolwoman's picture on the indymedia site as news in the context of Homeland Security and the USAPatriot act. His main problem with that seemed at first to be that I would be wasting 10$ developing it just to put her picture there. He didn't see the point he said. I mentioned that I'd probably lost the camera to a sewer grate and would have to try again at some other action I guess. "I don't know if you're friends with any of the Casa Maria people (a local milwaukee homeless shelter) but I think one of them probably have your camera by now." Like I said, he only told me two lies that I know of, and that was probably the truest thing he told me the whole time.
When he finished up his line of questioning and explained that he'd be putting me back in the bullpen for a few minutes while they prepare to release me to the streets, I asked him about the finger prints and the second high-tech background check, and he giggled a little, made that yiddish hand gesture I'm familiar with from my dad's side of the family that says "fuggetaboutit," or "don't worry," "never mind," and he told me "nah, when I'm done with you, you're done, go in there and they'll let you go soon."
The few minutes was about a half hour. I was released about 4:30pm, having been arrested at 10:25 am. When I got to my car to retreive it, there was a $30 parking ticket on it saying I was parked next to a clearly marked "no parking" sign which I looked and looked and looked for but never found, and a 72- hour abandonment sticker pushed tightly onto the driverside window saying it would be seized and towed if not picked up. The SS man was a sadistic bastard because he bent my ignition key like a corkscrew trying to get himself into the car and the trunk. In a hurry? They ruined the driver side back seat door handle as well and it no longer opens from the inside OR the outside. They didn't knife all the seats like has become commonplace in drug searches, but it was otherwise left ransacked with everything including car title and wisconsin maps, coins, stickers, CD's all over the flooring. Probably nothing I can do about it, but I'd call the sticker and the ticket harrassment.
This is all I can remember right now. I'll probably remember other things and make more connections between now and my court date as people ask me questions and make comments.
marc
By the way, I have a Mossimo hat (ballcap) with an upside down Tommy Hilfiger patch sewn on the back, and when they bagged all my possessions during booking, it had about a dozen half-inch dark brown hairs on it. Clearly horse-hair. When I received my possessions upon release they were gone.
Original post about arrest at this link:
http://mke.indymedia.org/front.php3?article_id=583
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See also:
http://mke.indymedia.org/front.php3?article_id=667&group=webcast
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Comments
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check your car |
by dj_cosine
(No verified email address) |
Current rating: 0
24 Jul 2002
Modified: 02:59:07 PM |
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sell it or something, if they can do that, who's to say they didn't bug your car, or install some tracking device. I might sound irationally paranoid, but they're capable of anything. |
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