Written July 29, 2006, 9:56:26 AM: (note: This is a very traumatic experience to remember and focus on, and given the lack of sleep and food it is possible that I left on minor details, but below I strive to be as detailed as possible.) ... It all started on Vacation to Niagara Falls. On the 26th of July I went to the Library to use a an internet computer, which I have done a number of times before, and my computer time ran out so I walked to the front counter, asking for more time. I was told it won't be until 5:40 PM and that was fine. It was over a 90-minute wait but I have waited longer before. I then walked over to the broad red carpet stairs to my right, beside the pay phones, and sat back with my Backpack and cell phone in hand. I was using text and preparing to pull a phone number from my contact list. At that moment, a Man came up to me. Through my poor eyesight all I could see was a blur of a gray shirt on him. (I am near sighted so I do not wear contact lenses or glasses when working close up as I otherwise cannot see what I am doing.) He told me, 'hey, don't lay back on my stairs. That's what we have chairs for.' and then I looked around a moment, for a moment not understanding what he meant as I was totally immersed in what I was doing, and realized that I was actually in the middle of the walk way. (at some point between that and me moving, I remember, but not with as much detail, he said something about me not allowed to use a cell phone in the library and I told him that I was only using the text.) So I got up and said, as I stood, prepared to move to anywhere appropriate, 'oh, ok. Can I sit over here?' (I motioned to the part of the stairs directly lining the wall, which was within arm reach of the pay phone as a comfortable place to use the pay phone from.) 'Yes, but as long as you are going to use It.' and I said, 'oh, don't worry. That's the only reason I am here. I plan to use the payphone in just a minute.' then he asked, as he walked to the side of the front counter, 'what is your name?' So I answered, 'Richard' and he asked, 'What is your last name?' 'Eldridge' 'Spell that?' and so I did. Sitting now where directly, I realized he just took my name and I didn't really understand why. So I asked him, 'excuse me, but, Why did you take my name?' and he answered with an aggressive tone, and a voice not fit for a library, 'Because I felt like it!' and then I felt my stomach tighten, and I thought to myself, 'Who is this guy? Why is he treating me like this? I am a patron at the library and no one deserves to be treated this way.” Not able to resist, I actually asked him. 'Are rude to all patrons?” For which he answered, 'No, Only to you.' still that tone in his voice, and through the blur of his face I could make out a smirk. For a moment it made me really stressed, but I let it drop. I returned to my cell phone, wanting to make my Pay phone call and get out of the Library - away from him - as fast as I possibly could. Then he said, 'you know what, No, you can't sit there. Get over there and find yourself a chair!' a tone that this time seemed almost like a yell, at least to me, but not really loud enough to be one. I looked at him, as I rose from where I sat grabbing my things, and I asked, 'But I thought you said I could sit here?' and he said, 'I changed my mind, now GET OFF MY STAIRS NOW AND GET OVER THERE!' this time his voice much louder, but I still was not able to tell if he was yelling. All I knew is that he was much louder than me, and to be honest, it was giving me a bit of a headache and disturbing my work and perhaps other patrons. I looked across the room to see if anyone else was disturbed but people appeared to be ignoring the situation. Although I felt wronged, I got up to comply with his request. I didn't want any trouble, after all. And as I got up he walked closer to me, his hands on his waist, and for the first time I could clearly make out his appearance and what he was wearing. (It was actually a bit too close for comfort.) I read the words 'Police' on the top left portion of his shirt. I said to myself, 'Figures it would be a police officer...' while I walked on past. 'Why do the police always have to be so arrogant?' Ok. that was not right. I mean, most police do carry themselves with a degree of dignity that I would expect, the arrogance a means of maintaining order, but at this point I was stressed and felt harassed. And to be perfectly honest, I had sincere doubts that he was even a police officer. I thought, ok, well, maybe a rent-a-cop, or some kind of cheap guard, but the police? It didn't make any sense. As I walked around the corner towards one of the comfortable seats, I just had to know and so I asked, turning around, 'Why are you being so rude to me?' for which he answered, 'Why are YOU so UGLY?' I stood now facing him. He walked towards me, too close for me to feel comfortable. I looked at him and I asked, “By whose authority are you to treat patrons in this manner?” for which he answered, 'My OWN!' a creepy smile on his face. I felt very tense now, intimidated, but made an attempt to retain composure. I wanted to know what was going on, and so I thought that if he wouldn't be cooperative someone else might. So I asked, 'May I speak with your superior' to which he answered, a tone loud with authority, “I AM your superior!' (I'm sorry, but that was just uncalled for. Not only was that disregarding my question, it was an act, or so it seemed to me, of contempt. So I asked him again.) 'May I please just speak with your superior?' (I made an effort to be polite even though the favor was never returned.) For which, of course, the answer was silence. He just looked at me with an expression on his face that disturbed me. I began to walk towards the front desk past him, not saying another word. For the second time just trying to get away from him. And as I walked past him, not doing anything wrong, he grabbed my right arm and said, 'that's it, get out of my library now.” Now this I didn't understand. Up to this point I had been cooperative, and tolerated his conduct. Asking questions in a manner as polite as I could, but this is going too far. There is no rule against walking towards a librarian in any library, and being a Public Library, I am protected by the First Amendment in that I should not be punished for asking questions. But this is something you see happen in some third world country. I could not believe it, and once again I was filled with the doubt of who he was. And since he never identified himself as a police officer I had to wonder if maybe the shirt was store bought, since he wasn't in Uniform. I said, a hint of irritation in my voice but still at a calm library level, 'look, I just want to talk to the head librarian' and he said, 'and I said you are getting out of my library. So get out before I put you under arrest!' and I said, 'hold on, how can you actually do that?' (a look of disbelief should have been on my face as I was honestly puzzled.) And then he told the librarian to make a call, and then I glanced at him holding the phone, and then he physically threw me with force through the doors outside of the library, pushing me away from him, and he said, 'Not get out, and if I ever see you in MY library again I will put you under arrest.' Out of the library, I stood there respecting distance and repeated my question, 'May I please just talk to the librarian? I just want to understand what is going on.' then he said, 'get off the premises now or you are under arrest.' Ok, here is where I probably should have believed that he was a police officer, but I have long had a problem of comprehending situations as they are unfolding. I wasn't, in my mind, able to piece it all together, and I probably should have known that the librarian would not be helpful to talk to at this point anyway, but when situations happen so fast and I can't understand what is going on, my head hurts badly and it won't stop hurting until I find a degree of understanding. And since he refused to announce himself as police or not, and would not tell me what I was doing wrong, and was carrying himself with the dignity of a street thug, the only person I could think of that could help me understand was the librarian and it became a sort of need. As Much as I hate falling back on this, I know I have Asperger Syndrome and that need is a part of that, but regardless, as I knew, even though I could have finally walked away at this point, I at least knew my rights and that even if he was a police officer, I could not be arrested until I was breaking the law. Or so I thought. I looked around a moment and assumed I was already off the premises. I mean, he did not designate property lines, and I assumed that the library itself was the premise. I glanced at a number of people against the wall just watching, and assumed based on that, I felt secure to stand at a distance. I asked him one last time, my left hand motioning towards the librarian, 'may I please speak with a librarian?' for which he stood there, I looked down to see mace in his right hand, and felt intimidated for a moment. Too intimidated too move. For a few moments there was a pause as I just looked at him. My stress affecting how fast I could think. Should I leave, or should I stay? I thought maybe I should call the library but then I knew I didn't know the number. I tried to think about what I should do, and as I was thinking he laughed and said, 'That's it!' and all as a single motion, without warning, he Punched me with his left hand on the right side of my chest, (it was more of a back hand jab but with a fist held, and with enough force to push me back in a way I needed to work to keep balance standing.) pulled back with his right leg, swung his right arm forward, and Maced me. Most of it got in my left ear and the left side of my neck, but it burned my eyes enough to focus the pain there. I then hung low and screamed, disoriented by it all. Struggling with my hands to clear it all away. He then got behind me, scraping the back of my right heel as his did, (or at least it felt like his foot. I could not see so to be honest it could have been anything.) I felt a surge of Pain as skin was roughly brushed off, and then he slammed me to the ground on my knees, which caused allot of pain there with my arthritis, and then said, 'your under arrest!' and I screamed, 'help! Someone, please help me! Police! I am being attacked!' at this point any trace thought that he was a police officer was actually gone, and I assumed him nothing more than some man wearing a gray shirt that said police on it. I felt threatened and begged for help but no one came. I also screamed occasional chants in my delirium of pain such as “What did I do!? Why are you doing this!? I was only trying to use a pay phone!” Through the blur of pain I felt myself moved around in rough motions, for which the only resistance I showed, given I was too much in shock to honestly resist, was to keep to my feet and to keep my hands on my face. I was driven my a combination of pain and fear. At some point he said, 'Yeah, hurts like hell, don't it?' A Sadistic tone in his voice. 'You are just lucky that I don't have my Taser on me!' and I thought to myself, 'oh my god! He would actually use as much force against me as he possibly could! Thank heavens no one gave him a Gun!' And that thought, of him with a gun, made me feel pale inside. Struggling to my knees, I made an effort to put my right hand on my face. Only enough resistance to clear away some chemical and it really did help. The pain was causing me to start a panic, which affected my focus. He pushed down against me and said 'Don't get up or I'll mace you again!' I didn't understand why he said that. I mean, he could not push me down. I was strong enough with my martial arts training to take the advantage, but I didn't want any more trouble and through my efforts to see I saw to my left the mace pointed at me. I replied, 'Look, I'm not getting up, I'm just clearing away the mace.' and he said, 'well just stay like that and don't move” I could still feel allot of pressure on my knees though. It hurt my back and knees badly as I have a lot of health problems in my joins, but I just cooperated the best I could as he cuffed me. Another officer who I could not see now here, and my cell phone - which was still in my left hand up to this point, fell to the floor, mostly by the result of their force, because I remember clinging to it like a comfort blanket. I wished I had dialed a number through all of this so someone - anyone - could hear what was going on, since the people standing in front of the library against the wall just stood there, some even laughing, but I never thought of it before this moment. I said, 'please get my cell phone, It is very expensive and I need it back.' and someone, one of the two officers but I could not tell who said, 'don't worry, we got it.' I was glad I did not resist his arrest, thinking to myself that if I did he could get me on resisting arrest even if there were no other charges, but I still did not understand what the charges were. I asked what my charges were, since neither my charges nor my rights were read to me. For which he answered, 'you were causing a disturbance in the library.' and I walked with disbelief... disturbance? I was being harassed! And then attacked! I was doing everything asked of me! (Not everything, not really. At the very last moment was the only part I did not comply with his request, and if I had the ability to let things go, I would not even have been in this situation, but even so it did not justify his actions and I still didn't understand the charges.) I kept asking what I did and what was going on, as if asking enough would somehow change what was happening. As he walked me towards the car, blind, I felt panic at everything that was happening. And the pain didn't help. My heart was beating so fast it hurt in my chest. But still I tried – and failed – to retain composure. As he led me to the police car, he called me 'Josh' and I said, 'My name is Richard, Please Call me Richard.' and he said, 'Ok DICK!' and I said, please don't call me that. 'Ok DICK. DICK. DICK.' his attitude still the same as it was in the library and I thought to myself... did he plan this? Did he intentionally antagonize the situation just to arrest someone? I pushed the thought away because even if he didn't, this was still Harassment and I wanted justice, but knew that one way or another I could do nothing at this point. Him and an officer that drove here brought me into the police car and told me to duck my head or I would hit my head, and I did as they were told, but their hands were on the back of me – not sure where since I had trouble thinking at the moment – but the motion aggravated the pains in my neck and back more. I leaned forward as directed and just ended up hurting my nose, before by my own judgment of perspective helped myself in. Inside the police car the pain was like fire on my skin, and I struggling with the cuffs on, moving them around, and wiping my face the best I could. I heard an officer say, 'don't do that. That will only make it worse. Place your face into a window.' as they opened it for me. But at first I didn't want to. First of all, this was a complete and total embarrassment, and second, the wiping away of some chemicals was causing some relief. But still, I was blind, and my eyes would not open. And the pain... and the stress... and then all the panic that started and rose up as I was led to this car burst itself into a Panic Attack. I have not had one of those in over 2 years, and never in my life as bad as this. But when I began to hyper ventilate, one of the two officers, I assume the one in the gray shirt said kept saying 'Shut up!' and this only intensified it because it caused me to feel what happened more, and I began to feel a great deal of fear for the police as a whole. I realized as well that no matter what was happening to me, even if I died from this attack - which is possible if it were aggravated enough - they would do nothing for me. I struggled inside myself to keep the attack in check. I could not stop it, but I still tried, at least accomplishing to calm it enough so that I knew I wouldn't suffer from it. But there was just too much anxiety to even have enough self-control to stop it. My body writhed on it's own. I eventually brought my head out the window, the cold air causing me to cry, as I heard voices outside from people mocking. I was afraid of what was going to happen to me, and I felt so very alone. It is important to note that I was never read my rights, and even when I asked them too, they refused, and was not at this point formally read my charges. I was eventually brought to the police station and led out; as the pain began to subside I felt my own long held sense of self-respect strong again. It is a personality trait that I know got me into this mess, but I am glad to have it. It keeps me alive. It fills me with an ideal that all people should treat each other kindly and those that don't should apologies for their actions. I was led to face a wall, which I complied to, and led across by these two officers who spoke amongst themselves as if I wasn't there. I was led through a hallway, into stairs and by a counter near a single cell. The cool air calming me a degree, and I began to ask for a towel as calmly as I possibly could, and as always, with the word 'please' as I firmly believe in polite manners. They ignored me for the most part, talked amongst themselves, and in portions began to ask me questions, disregarding my attack, and I struggled to answer them as best I could but as some point I just said, 'look, I can't concentrate. This hurts too much' before I was placed inside of the cell. My panic and anxiety and stress began to rise again. I have never in my life felt claustrophobic but I did now. I continued to ask, even here, for something to clear away my eyes, and someone asked me if I wanted to go to the Hospital, and I pled repeatedly, so much so that although I heard him it did not register in my mind, 'please just get me a towel or some water or something or anything...' and then I was led out of the cell, and as I was they asked me 'Do you have any ID on you? And I answered, 'Yes, but it is in my wallet in my backpack and that is a sealed item. You may not legally search personal possessions that are not directly on my person without either a warrant which you must first show me, or my permission, and I decline permission.' (Hey, I may have been in pain, and they may not be willing to read my rights, but I know some of the laws. A bit better, it now seemed to me, than they knew them.) For which an officer said, we're going to search it anyway!' I told him that he can't, because he already had it separate from me and so had no right to do so, but they just laughed at that. I said to them, “If you do that I will...” I paused. Not sure what I could do. I wanted to press charges, but to who? Who would police the police? They said, “or what, you'll arrest me?” with a roar of laughter all around. Confirming to me that there was nothing I could do. I was led back out to the car, against the wall, and the officer who treated me that way before this time said to another officer, 'Are you hungry?' and the other guy said, 'yeah' and I fought myself a bit upset by this because I had not had anything to eat all day and I was having stabbing sensations in my stomach. I didn't say anything though and was just silent, and he said, 'see, you are cooperating now.' and this really bothered me, because it left me with the impression that silence is his idea of cooperation, and I said to him, 'I did everything you asked of me and you just punched me!' and he said, 'I did not punch you, I just maced you and put you in __ hold!' (I can't pronounce the term for the hold he used.) But it infuriated me that he lied to the other police, while at the same time made me question if he really did have the support of the other police in his actions. I was led into the car, my eyes ajar enough to get a bit of what is around me, though I had to struggle against the pain and swelling to see, and to my right one officer in Uniform bent before the window, with his hands spread from either ear like an elephant, his head slanted to the side, his tongue out, made an insane noise that made me thing, 'Who am I dealing with? A Bunch of collage kids?' once again my disbelief that these were 'New York's best and brightest' filling me. I had expected them to handle themselves with dignity and instead that give me this. I was eventually brought to an emergency room was I was treated. The blood pressure was much too high, and they could tell just by looking at me that I was filled with anxiety. One of the first questions I was asked is if I have any mental problems, and I can understand why, given the distressed state I was in. They asked me on a scale of 1 to 10 how much pain I was in, and I said, 'an 11' and began to tell them the story in even more detail as above, as many times as I could, as if maybe someone would hear me and do something, or maybe I just wanted someone to hear me and show care and sympathy for my plight. I told them about the pain in the neck and back, which they treated with Motrin, about the scrape ankle, which at the time was a mere abrasion, which they covered in an ointment. I asked them for more, realizing it would get badly infected if I didn't get it treated and knew the police would not treat it, but they wouldn't. I showed them a cut on my finger from where I don't know where it came. It was not infected, and even though it was an open cut they said it didn't need any. They gave me cold wash clothes, which contrary to what the police told me, made me feel allot better, because most of the pain was now in my left ear and left side of neck. They gave me plenty to clear it out, treating me properly, and when I told them it was in my ear they took cu-tips for it. The nurse who gave me those was a blonde but I did not get her name. She said she did not see anything, so I asked her if I could have it to clean it myself and she did. But still, I could not get it all out. I was given another blood pressure, which combined with the existing numbness from my panics, caused my right hand to hurt so much. I writhed in pain as I waited for it to come off, then it did come off. The Blond Nurse asked me if I wanted anything for the anxiety, and I told her no, that it was mostly the stress of the situation. I knew this to be true, because I was once treated for asthma a few years ago and it was mostly triggered by stress and nothing helped it when stressed. She asked more than once, saying, 'Are you sure?' and I respectfully declined. I also asked for a throat culture, because I was concerned about my health and my throat hurt from the panic attacks. I thought about the 8 Month Strep infection I had as I kid and told her ever since I was a child I had a condition that made my susceptible to illness there. The nurse looked in and didn't see anything wrong so did not take the culture. It put me at ease to know I did not catch anything. She brought eye drops for my eyes to help treat the conjunctivitis caused by the Mace. I was starting to feel really calm towards the end, the soothing environment a big help, but then before they released me I tried to think of anything wrong with me, and told them I felt afraid that if I was taken into the Jail I would not get proper treatment. I was starting to panic a bit, and told the Nurse with short darker hair that I know if I could get admitted to the hospital for something I would have to get care for it. I made it clear to her that I was afraid of being trapped in a closed space surrounded by Police Officers, that after what happened to me I was afraid of what would happen. But the nurse said, which I have to agree on, that they can't get me a bed just to get me out of going to Jail. I was released, and as I did I felt my heart rate get a bit faster. They took my blood pressure again, not when I was calm, but just before leaving, a difference. She had to take it again because the first two times taken it was way too high. They did not tell me what it was, but this fact alone concerned me. I was given a paper showing the time of my release for the hospital, after marking my signature, and it said, about 5:30 (actually, Five twenty something.) and was given an ice pack on a clothe to keep. I was supposed to keep it on my face. I was led to the police station again in the police car, and through to the station the same way. I was brought inside. They took from me my paper and my ice, and my watch, and was asked a number of questions, which I answered promptly, and standing in front of them, when asked if I had any string, I at first said no. But then realized I was wearing shorts. I pulled my shirt up and said, 'I have this' and they said, 'take it out' and I said, 'I can't, it's attached' and the officer who arrested me to begin with said, then we have to cut it out.' and I said, 'no, please. These are my favorite pair of shorts. I have had them since I was a kid. Please, don't cut them.' and they said, 'You can't have string' (this did not make any sense to me since a hair scrunchy could be used in the same way but be easier to remove, which they knew about and had no problem with. I did not tell them I had it, but anyone could see it, and at the Hospital an officer in Uniform watched as the Blond Nurse put it on my hair as it was falling out.) I asked them, 'can't you just give me a change of jail clothes? Please don't do this...' He said, 'here, either you cut it or I will' and motioned the strange looking scissors to me.' and I just repeated, 'please don't, please don't, etc' as he put his hand on me, lifted the string high enough to cause my waist to hurt, then cut them. And he didn't even put them with my stuff; he just tossed it so it could never be reattached. An article of clothing that I wore because it was a nice sunny day, a day of vacation to enjoy, was forever violated. Then it got worse. They pulled out my bag and I again told them they can't go through my stuff, and they said, 'You are in jail. We can do whatever we want.' for which I then went silent. Not in a respectful way, but in a way that demonstrated how I felt about it all, because when answered the simplest questions I was silent. For a few moments it was like that and I said, 'If you will be respectful of me I will be respectful of you' and began to answer questions again. They asked me questions about Bail, and I said, 'But I don't have a penny to my name on me. There is no way I could possibly make bail!' It was set at 600.00 – way too high. After a few moments they asked me if I wanted my one phone call. I asked, 'May I see a list of lawyers in this area so I can call and seek legal council?' and they answered, 'no.' so I said, 'ok, well, I'd like to call a friend who is really worried about me. May I see my cell phone to pull up my contact list?' It was a reasonable request. I have trouble remembering phone numbers. But they said no, and then 3 officers together rushed me into cell number 1, and I said, 'I thought I was going to get my 1 phone call!? and I was told, 'you were going to get your one phone call until you pulled that. Not anymore.' and I pled, with the same panic tone as before, 'what? What did I do?' and was led to be alone in my cell. I was denied my phone call, or so I reasoned, for the same essential reason I was arrested: I wanted to use my cell phone contact list to make a phone call. For over an hour I sat there. I had a few minor panic attacks but I was starting to calm. I would ask for a call and they would say no. One officer I asked, and he just said, 'Not my problem.' until I was pulled out by the Criminal Investigator. He wore a white shirt with a collar that said criminal investigator on it. I had to squint to see, and it hurt to squint. He carried himself with authority, but it was different than the other officers I dealt with. It was direct, informative, and simple. He carried himself with the dignity and respect I expected from the other officers but never got. As he took my prints and picture, I asked him all the questions denied to me by the other officers. I went to volunteer information about my case but he said, 'no, don't tell me, I don't want to know. Because everything I hear I have to write down and I don't want to do any paper work right now.' and I respected his request. I asked what time it was, squinted, and saw on the screen that it was about 7:00 PM. I asked him what my charges were, and he said 'Disorderly conduct, Resisting Arrest, and Obstructing traffic.' at first I went to oppose, because, seriously, how could any obstruct traffic inside a library? Other non-sense charges aside, that is impossible no matter what happened. But he stopped me and said he didn't want to hear it. I asked him if my records would be removed if I was found innocent and he said that if the Judge orders them to remain they remain, if not they take them out. I asked what time I can see a judge and he said, 'Tomorrow at 9: AM, and at that time they just want to hear you say one of two words. Innocent, or Guilty.' I asked about attorney and was told that that I would be provided one if I cannot afford it, but a woman would be by at 7: in the morning to check financials to see. As he was done with the prints I asked him one last question, 'Would you please ask them if they would let me have my one call, or why I'm not getting one?' I was elated that he honored my request, and so I was given my one call at last. Something I didn't think I would get for a while there. And I used it to call my friend who was worried. I suppose I could have called family for Bail, but I was under the impression that it would only be 2 or 3 days, a speedy trial. Besides, Bail at the time was possible any time declared so I So I figured I would sit in and see what happens and then call the next day from the expensive collect calls inside each cell if it isn't as expected. It would have been nice if I could tell me people I am fine, because I had friends in this area who I later found out went out looking for me. Their time wasted because I could not contact enough people. I suppose I should count myself lucky thought. Other people in the jail sat there for over 24 hours, having already faced judge and charges, with family that still does not know what happened to him. I remember hearing him try to make collect calls as the phone on his wall disconnected repeatedly. I heard him beg them to let him make a call, and no one helped him. I feel allot of sympathy for him, yet I feel relief that I was at least able to make one call. I was led back into my cell where I tried to sleep but it was cold, as an air conditioner was on, and me wearing nothing warm. Then there were the bright lights. I am naturally light sensitive, and the Mace made them hurt more. I could not sleep seeing bright lights in my eyes. I asked for blanket and a pillow and they said they had none. I later asked if there was something, anything, that I could put over my face and they said no. I then thought to go under the wooded board of a bed and there I noticed what that bad smell was... Fecal Matter smeared all over the underside. Rank. I looked to my right, and there were insects crawling out of the walls. I was living in an unsanitary hole. Conditions not fit for modern times. Despite the conditions, I had no choice but to spent much of my time under there because the floor was more comfortable on my bad back then the wooded board, and there was less air coming at me, and the light not directly in my eyes. I began to cry. Because I knew what was happening. I was treated as Guilty until proven innocent. When accused, the Job of the Police is to hold me to ensure I face trial and nothing more, certainly not to punish me with unsanitary conditions, that I am to be treated as innocent until guilty, but they were not acting like it. At some point I got back on top, because breathing that scent in was making my feel nauseous. I still felt it on top though not as bad and for the next few hours I lay flat and still trying to sleep, but not at all able too. Complicating matters was the stabbing sensations in my stomach. Not eating at all was painful. But the depression and panic was helping to numb me to it. At about 7: AM I got to speak with the Financial Person. Then about an hour later I got my first meal in 24 hours. I felt it warm in my hand, and thought I was getting a croissant which. But when I opened it... just bread. My thought was hurting badly at this point. I asked them if I could have a cup of water and was told I had a cup, that I could just dump out my coffee and put water in it from the sink attached to the toilet. I looked at the coffee, seeing the waste, but I knew I could never eat bread without something cool to drink, so I dumped it and filled it with water. I got myself sprayed a few times, because the water pressure was way too high, but I eventually got my water and my bread. But it did not fill me in the least. It only served to remind me of just how hungry I really was. For the next hour my panic got much worse. I was pacing, panting, my heart physically hurt, and if you look at the video watching me 24-7 you'd see my gripping the wall and my chest as I sweat and breathed hard, dizzy and disoriented. After 9: AM, I was led with others to the courtroom to answer to charged. A did not understand the prices, so observed the best I could. A before me asked for a Speedy Trial, and then I heard the judge ask what that date was to a woman, and she said the 7th, and then he told him August 7th. Then my name was called, and I stood. I could not hear too clearly through the speaker, so I could not make out what time of charges or how many of each, but I heard disorderly conduct and resisting arrest, which I pled not guilty. I did not hear the charge obstructing traffic so I had relief at that, thought a part of me sort of wished I could prove that officer a liar and felt that having that charge on their would help me prove it. But I didn't bother with the thought for long. I was told that Bail would be 750.00 and wondered why but didn't ask. I then went to ask for a speedy trial but came out of my mouth, filled with the exasperation of stress hunger and sleep deprivation, I said, 'please, I'm just a tourist on vacation. I have to be out by the 3rd...' and then the judge said that I will face charges August 14th, that my lawyer would be appointed to me on that day, and that he has already been informed of the charges. Though why, I wondered, could I not speak with my lawyer sooner to get some understanding and to discuss my case while it was fresh in my mind. I also had bruises from the punches I wanted to be looked at and documented, and knew the police would not do that. I would have asked more clearly for a speedy trial but the Judge already called the next name. I went to sit down but there was no seat open and these guys were two big to squeeze through. An officer said sit down, and I looked around. In retrospect, I probably could have found a way, but I was too tired to think let alone comply, and then he said again, yelling now, before taking me by the air shoving me down the hail. I could feel my back snap at the motion as I asked, 'What's going on? What did I do?' Nothing made sense to me in this place. It was all a rush of madness and no one was forthcoming about anything. He trusted me into my cell where I felt my heart sink thinking on the date. '3 weeks in Jail!?” I thought to myself. “But I am innocent! There is no way I would survive any of this!' So I went to the wall, deciding at last to call my family collect to make bail but when I did they turned the phones off. I said, 'Officers, my phone is off. Please turn the phones back on.' then it went on before blipping off. In retrospect, I think that much was just a tease. So I yelled, 'please! I want to make Bail! Please let me make a call for Bail!' and they refused. I began to panic and when I did the same officer came to my cell and yelled, 'Sit down and shut up, or I'll go in there and make you!' and I looked to him, still shaking, and said, 'You can't attack a civilian. It's against the law.' and he said, 'What did you say!?' and I repeated myself, and he said, 'I can do whatever I want! You haven't been here as long as these guys have. You don't know what I can do to you.' and with that I again felt the fear of the police. I knew that given a reason, or even a whim of insanity, he could probably kill me and no one would be the wiser. I feared for my life. And as twisted as this may sound, I trusted the other inmates. It's supposed to be the other way around. The police are supposed to keep order, not threaten people. A man across from my cell, who had a court date same as mine, saw this and said to me, 'look man, just don't say any more. You are going to make it harder on yourself.' (I was in cell 1 and he, I think, would have been cell 23.I hope that he would testify if asked that this happened.) and I am thankfully he said that because I don't know what I would have said in response, as my will, my sense of dignity, was not yet broken. For 5 hours I waited. Begging, pleading, for the right to make Bail, I asked one, and she said, 'oh, that's just too bad.' and to another, I was told no. Another said maybe. And as one passed by I said clearly, 'I would like to exercise my right to bail.' and he looked at me and said, 'Your right?' then laughed, 'You are in jail. You have no rights!' and these words, simple as they were, embodied so much of what I went through. I felt a part of me die in there, the part that believed in Justice, an inner light of hope fading to dismal gray. I realized that the rights of the people are for the police to enforce, and that if the police chose not to enforce they did not exist. I'd have even just offered property as Bail, but they would not permit me to do so. The judge ordered that as a right, and the police disregarded that order. I was afraid for a new reason now... what if they never let me call? I could sit in here for 3 weeks when I could be out. I panicked at that, but managed to keep my calm by remaining as cynical as possible. It was my only salvation here and I then realized where people learn street smarts from. The Police. At about Noon we were given another meal. This time it was real food, but it was still miniscule. Just a hamburger, small fries, and a sprite. Nothing filling. Nothing real. Just enough to keep us alive, and not alive in a good way. Eventually they turned the phones on but not because I asked, because someone else did. I quickly made my collect call to my Grandmother and Father, who for the first time heard what was happening. Had I been allowed to call sooner, I'd have already been out, but now I was able to call. I asked a passing officer for the phone number for this station so I can make bail, my father hearing me ask and him walk past, and he just looked at me and walked on. The police seemed to make an effort to make it as difficult as possible for me to get out. So they had to spend money on directory assistance to find the number. And even then, it took them over 3 hours because I didn't even know the name of the police station. I mean, I am just a tourist. I can't be expected to know this. If they were not so resourceful that might never have found me. They agreed to Bail me, but at... like... my 4th call to them they told me that they would have to Bail me by 5: PM and could not because it was a 4 hour drive. I could have been out by then, but now it was too late. My dad said he would get to the Correctional Facility, the Real Jail, the next day to Bail me. Realizing this, I cried, sitting for a few more hours to wait on being transferred. It was about 5:30 by the time that led us into chains onto the Jail Bus. My hands and legs in chains, walking in a line, my only sanity was found in a dismal cynical attitude that kept me going. I said to myself out loud, 'The next stop on my crazy vacation, a tour of the inside of the County correctional facility' The women were also transferred on this bus and I observed another problem. Many of the other men, I did not observe how many or who, made sexual references towards the women, all but one of the women silent, and I realized this was sexual harassment and that someone should stop it, but the police said nothing of it. This was tolerated. Why, I wondered? I imagined being in their position and thought of what would happen if one of them voiced complaint. I knew it would be similar to my treatment. Which is probably why they were so silent. The police, in that passive manner, essentially encouraged sexual harassment and I felt a tint of anger at that injustice. It had nothing to do with me but it was totally wrong. (I believe that seeing an injustice and doing nothing is as bad as committing the act yourself.) It was a long drive, and it was difficult for me to hide my face from passing traffic. I hope no one would recognize me, and was thankful I am just a tourist so there is no one to look down on me after the fact. We were then brought into the Jail where I was lined up, and the women were brought to another room. I saw officers with gloves on as one guy said to the women, 'bend over and cough!' and then I thought, 'oh no, are they going to do a cavity search!? Please no... please no... I don't want to go through that..' and so I stayed back of the line, my body tightening at the thought. I tried to get my mind off it so I looked to a sign and read it; it was a notice about paper clips. Of not being allowed to be transported with them. It was obviously there for prisoners to read, but an officer told me to stop reading it, not sure why, but I complied. I eventually had my chains removed... and then searched... and... *whew* It was a relief. I wanted to retain some sense of dignity and was glad at least I didn't get a cavity search. I asked if I could make a call for Bail, because I found out that the Correctional Facility is open 24 hours, and I was told I could use a phone on the wall collect, but when I went to use it the phone was off. I sat there for a long while waiting. Talking to other inmates. There was one Man there, obviously very young, who I observed asking them for medication. He appeared stressed. He wore glasses and a dark shirt when they told him no, I saw him apologize to him, with a reaction that demonstrated that he probably went through the same that I went through. I told him, as I have told other inmates, that when he faces charges he should file counter charges. The way I saw it, the only way police could get away with this, is if people let them. Everyone I talked to says there is nothing anything can do about it, but the power of the government is of the people, and unless enough people stand up for themselves through legal channels, there would be no reform. No basic Human rights. At one point the same officer who said I could not read the sign walked in. I could not see, again, given my bad eyesight. He asked, “Does anyone know an Alixandria!?” People said no, I did not answer. I knew one, but didn't think it would be what it was. He then held up a cell phone, his finger on the button, my contact list in full view. It was supposed to be in my bag, yet it was right there in the open. I said it was mine, he didn't at first believe me, he asked what my phone number was I said I did not recall because it was knew, he asked for my name then said, 'just checking' - which is insane, since if he knew who it belonged to, there was no reason to even ask. He stood there cycling through my contact list without permission, which made me angry. The cell phone storage is a digital storage media and he was searching it without a warrant. I told him I didn't like people going through my things and he said he was just checking, and I said, 'I better not find that any of my minutes have been used. Those are expensive.' and he just laughed at that. Not a big laugh, more of a casual smirk laugh. I asked him if I could call for bail, he said, 'The phone is right there.' then I said, 'but the phone is off' then he said, 'well I guess you are not going to call then' and I said, 'I would like to exercise my right to bail.' and he said, 'your right, huh?' and then I asked when the phone would be turned on he said, 'when I tell it to be on.' then I asked, 'well, may I use my cell phone?' and he said 'no.' then he said, 'sit down' I stood back but didn't sit. Still carried traces of dignity. Of, perhaps misplaced, authority in that I was in my rights. Even though it should have been beaten from me as it was everyone else, I still clung to a trace of ideal. He just looked at me and laughed, then made a stereotypical gay accent and said, 'nice pony tail.' to which everyone laughed. This made me angry at many levels. First of all, I am not gay. Second, I have friends who are not gay and talk like that, and it is an insult to them. Third, I have friends who are gay, and it is an insult to them. And finally, as far as I know, it is illegal to single someone out based on sexual preference. Assuming I was Gay, that is still wrong at so many levels. He left, and we were brought in a meal, a real meal for once but nothing good. Rice and Beans that were watered down, salad that tasted of rotten after taste, a burrito that was so dry it was hard to eat, a desert of something I could not identify, and a drink that was... well... I could not tell what it was by smell or taste. It was brown and that is all I know. As I was eating, I was called out. I made Bail. Thankfully, my dad was able to find out for himself. But even so, I met rude comments to the very end. The guy walked me out, continuing his Gay accent impression, causing a riot of laughter directed at me, and I told him, 'Please don't do that. It isn't nice.' and he replied, in his accent, 'all right.' I sensed a trace of the same attitude of the officer who first arrested me. I looked at my belongings and squinted and an officer behind the desk said, 'what are you doing?' with a tone and I said, 'I'm sorry, but I can't see anything without my contacts or glasses.' and then I was taken to get my photo taken and asked questions. He asked which handed I said 'ambidextrous... that means both.' and he said 'I know what that means... oh, your from Pennsylvania, of course you would say that.' then after a pause he continued, now saying a bit louder, to the other officer, 'oh, he is from South Carolina to Pennsylvania.' then said to me, 'So are you married to your sister and is your uncle your brother?' - That made me near furious but I did not show it. He was not just insulting me, he was insulting my entire family accusing us all of inbreeding. I do not tolerate such conduct normally, but I learned that I have no choice. No right of being treated with kindness. I already asked him to treat me better and he refused so all I could do is bite my tongue. I was then led to a room where I was held. I saw my things, minus my Backpack, camera bag, and film. Led out I asked, 'Where is my bag?' and I was answered, 'My back pack. It is a big black backpack.' and he looked around and went to and me a black backpack, I could not see it so reached in closer and saw that it wasn't. I then noticed by the colors over the black my backpack sitting on the floor and said, 'that is it' and he said, 'oh' and jsut threw that bag to the ground hard. For one, this showed me that they did not keep track of belongings. I could have chosen to take someone else's bag if I was that kind of person. For two, seeing them disregard another man's property as if it is trash to be thrown made me fear for my own property. When I got my bag I began to search it for belongings. An officer told me, (the same one who said before, 'What are you doing?') to hurry up and I said that I need to make sure my wallet and valuable are in there and he said, 'if it isn't in there it is outside' but I knew this was not necessarily true, because I saw first hand how they keep track of property here. I wanted to find that everything was there, and so he just picked up my stuff, threw it all in, a manner which caused a clank, and had me concerned that something might break, and then escorted me by force out through the halls and to my dad waited in a lobby. I was quick to check for at least my wallet, and worried about the rest later. I went to tell him what went on, but he told me to keep my mouth shut until I got in the car. This was a sound piece of advice because at least he recognized that simply expressing what I think and feel isn't tolerated here. He was concerned that I would get thrown back in and maybe he was right. I then checked my belongings and found to my horror that my cell phone really was used while I was in jail. But on the 26th, not the 27th, so I did not have to concern over the officers at correctional (even though him holding it still bothered me.) but there was about an hour of talk time missing, and I checked the history of dialed numbers and it gave a clear time of the calls made. '5:40:33 PM' a non-sense number appeared. '59188925874*158055#98' and at '4:06:53' PM, another non-sense number '3333333' - I cannot tell how long each call was made, but the trouble is, even dialing a wrong number for a second it uses up a minute. These numbers are on my records and can be proven any time, but my phone won't tell me how often a number was called either. Still, even calling a fake number for a second at least costs me a minute each time and that is still theft. There was also no way that it could be an accidental sequence, since I have many times in the past left my cell phone in my bag to bounce around and never had it dial without me pressing. It also was on a certain screen before it was taken with taxt on it and one would have to exist out before even making the call. And the number, “333-3333” is just too specific of an amount of characters to be random. One was or another, the Police STOLE my phone time. Violating clear as admissible evidence my private property. I would also consider looking through the call list a violation of search laws, since it is a digital storage device, the information searched without consent or reason. I checked my bag some more. My glasses were broken. A Lens scratched and popped out, the frame mangled. It will probably cost me over a hundred dollars to replace. I had a contact lenses case with 2 pairs of contacts. Missing. Gone forever. I had 2 boxes of extra contacts, which had my prescription on them. Mangled, but thankfully still usable. A spoon, while not the biggest deal, was broken. The pages on my written Journal bent, implying that someone read through my private entries. My Dad and grandma had to pay about 100.00 in Gas combined to drive up, then drive down. They also had to pull out cash because credit card would have cost them 75.00 that would not be refunded - who is going to pay them back for the trouble? I will have to. They had to stay at a motel at night because it was too late to drive back. That would not have been needed if they let me make bail when requested. More money wasted. Over 50.00. That night, before nothing else but to clip my nails, I took a video recording of myself explaining everything, though not as great detail since I had not had any sleep in over 24 hours and my body was still in pain, but I showed the injured. My abrasion now infected, my knee bruise with a dot of puss in it, and the bruise from a fist to my chest. I got it all on video and on 35mm film. Taking a shower that night, my first cleansing in a few days, I nearly cried from the pain in my eyes and ears, as I had to scrub away the Mace. The next day we went to the emergency room to have my eyes checked, and to document the injuries. I also got a through culture because, while I did not have flem in my thought before, after sleeping in unsanitary conditions I was sick now. I then had to leave town with my dad and grandma. I cannot afford to stay on an extended vacation. I live on social security and I am already deep in debt from taking this vacation to begin with. I was planning to visit a friend in Illinois, to leave on the first, but now I have no choice. I will have to take a greyhound bus up, costing me 57.00 each way, plus about 50.00 for a motel room. And that is just for one hearing. I cannot afford to make multiple trips. I am going to go broke from all this and I am supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. Who will pay me back for my troubles when found innocent? But what if I am found guilty? I mean, I know I have documented proof of police wrong doing, but I don't know how the laws up here work and I can't talk to a lawyer until right before the hearing. I shudder the thought of more time in Jail... but I cannot afford the alternatives. Community service would require me in Niagara Falls, and I can't afford to stay for all that unless they let me use it all at once non-stop, but even then I can't afford the time in motels. Or what if they want a fine? I'd have no money for it. So what would I do? I am afraid of all the possibilities, but I know I am innocent, so I will fight this. Still... I am afraid. I only wanted to take a trip to the falls. I am just a tourist. I didn't ask for any of this. Right now as I write this, Saturday July 29th 2006, still exhausted even though I had two nights of sleep since this ordeal, my back is in more pain than it has been in a very long time. A year of chiropractic care ruined by 2 days of rough treatment. I feel feverish and I keep falling over disoriented. I have trouble breathing through the flem and my legs hurt. I have a prescription to treat the open wound on my ankle and the pain in my back with Motrin, but I am too weak to go out. I just feel so very tired. No... I have to go out. And I cannot get a ride. I will have to go to the Sayre, Pennsylvania Emergency room to get checked for being feverish. And to ask to forward from the other hospital the results of the thought culture. Will I have Justice? Or will my abuse go unanswered for? _______ Written Sunday, July 30th, 2006, at 7:08 PM: Last night I was lethargic so could not get up and about right away, but at 3: PM, I eventually went out. I felt feverish and disoriented, and weak in my muscles. I was concerned so I went to the Emergency Room, on the way dropping off Prescriptions at the Pharmacy. I had to spent 6 hours at the emergency room to get it all checked. I explained what happened, and showed the position of my body through each incident, so the Doctor ordered an X-Ray to check for breaks but gave me the opinion that, based on what I told her, it is probably just wear from a fight. She said that even though I was not fighting back, being attacked is about the same kind of stress physically, that the Cervical Strain was probably just that, and that the pain felt directly on the bones was probably just that I hurt more than the main muscles, but we got an X-Ray anyway. Thankfully, nothing broken, but I pointed on the X-Ray and on my neck of where the pain was. I then saw, on request, a mental health worker. I have never in my life requested Mental Health but my Anxiety was just too intense and I didn't want to rely on medication. I told this woman the entire store, and she observed how difficult it was for me to speak in portions, the sweat on my face and the shortness of breathe. It was clear to her that the memory of the event brought the trauma to the surface. I requested, and it was advised, that I seek Therapy at the Southern Tier Counseling to help get over the event. She also advised that I make an effort to think as little about it all as possible, but I am afraid that isn't possible. I have to prepare for trial. I got Documentation of my stay, and then ended up back home by Midnight. I ate, and while I was exhausted, it was a few hours before I could fall asleep. The anxiety is a real problem. At some point I realized something. There was Surveillance cameras at the Library, both inside and outside, and as well pointing at me in the cell, and in the Police Garage. So essentially, every detail can be confirmed if I get the videos. And if they are erased by then? That would be considered tampering with evidence of a crime scene. I called my Father about it, and when he called me the next morning he said that if charges are brought against the Police with that Kind of evidence that would probably just drop all charges and simply prepare a defense. That made me feel a bit better. Just to make sure though, not willing to take chances, I asked my Father to obtain for me records of various court rulings to support me in my case. One can never be too prepared, after all. And besides... the charges may be small, but I am taking this very seriously. Today I was able to be a bit at ease, but the anxiety still filling me. Rising from my chest through my blood in brief moment of discomfort and pain. _______ Written Monday, July 31st 2006 at 2:56 AM EST: I feel tense. My heart keeps beating faster and my stomach twists in knots. My neck tenses up and I have not even been thinking of what happened. I am listening to music right now that is calming, but it isn't helping much. I am exhausted but I cannot sleep. I think I will get up and have a snack, maybe watch a little bit of TV, and see if I can sleep in later. _______ Written Monday, July 31st 2006 at 10:33 AM EST: I Managed to Fall asleep at about 6:00 AM EST, only to sleep in a half sleep. Most of the time I could feel my body in my body tossing and turning, a cold sweat on my face and dryness in my throat. But in the space between I did dream. I dreamed of explaining my story to police from inside an emergency room. I don't understand why, I mean, I know it has been heavy on my mind, but why to the police? Well, regardless, I keep feeling less and less well without any sleep. But I guess I am lucky to have sleep at all. _______ Written Monday, July 31st 2006 at 11:49 AM EST: I spoke with the ACLU this morning. Sadly, most of the details of my case apparently... well... most of the police conduct is not illegal. That is scary. As for the civil complaints, if I cannot get the video, even with photos of injury, it is essentially my word against the police, in which case I would lose. This made me concerned. They told me to contact my court appointed lawyer, and if after they feel the case has merit the ACLU might take the case. They told me to go to directory assistance to find the number for the Niagara Falls City Court, and I did, and I found out their number and address, and as well from them the phone number for the Public Defender Office. However, it rang long and I did not get an answer so I contacted my father to see what he could help me with and now I can only hope. _____ Written August 30th 2006, In the end, there is no justice. I went before the Judge on the 14th and was offered a plea. I accept disorderly conduct, pay a 95.00 court fine, and leave Niagara Falls and they will let me go on time already served with sealed records. The alternative was to face a few more court dates that I knew I could not afford and in worst case scenaro I could end up with up to a Year in Jail time. I had a panick attack deciding, and felt angry about it all. Here I sat, wronged, and in several hundred dollars in debt already just to make this court appearance. I wanted justice but I could not afford it. So I accepted the plea and left. But just because I accepted a plea, even if I was guilty, that does not excuse everything that happened to me. But I am poor. I can't afford a lawyer and I can't find one who will take my case on charity. I cannot sue. I would be content just seeing internal reform, but I can't do that either. No one takes me seriously. I have a video testimony, there are video tapes watching all of this happen, I have photographs and medical records prooving everything that happened, and I still have Post traumatic Stress Disorder... but because I am poor, I cannot afford to see justice served. In America, we may have rights, but rights do not exist unless enforced. It doesn't matter how much evidence I have, the truth is, I will not have my justice. I have decided to go out into the Wilderness of Utah with camping equipment for a few months. Spending what little money I have left to escape from it all. Maybe I will find cleansing there. So why am I writing this here? Because I hope that maybe, somehow, just by knowing what happens, someone else may be spared the pain I was forced to endure. All because I wanted to make a phone call.