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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is steaming with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want ALL to thrive in

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

JAIL



Who the hell ends up in jail after going to court to enter a “Not Guilty” plea for a fuckin traffic ticket? That would be me! 

And where? In fuckin Adel, Georgia of course.

That’s right. I went yesterday to my arraignment for a lousy misdemeanor traffic ticket, thinking I’m going to get my day in court and smash this ignorant redneck sheriff to hell and back for his southern white boy bigoted domination and I end up being taken to jail because the judge demanded a $400 bond – cash no less – before I would be allowed to walk free.

COURT

The courtroom, located in an ancient (for the u.s.) marble, wrought iron, and golden oak tall (for Adel) two story building with the 20 foot ceilings and lazy overhead fans, full of important white people expressing undisguised surprise that I’m here as they buzz around to make sure I don’t enter the hallowed court room with a water bottle. Of course the podium of the judge, clerk, recorder have a can of soda, glass of water or clear soda, covered coffee mug, bottle of water and bag of candies in evidence.

And three containers of anti-bacterial shit, which is a much more dangerous substance that water in a bottle…even in the hands of an old not guilty womon!

We all are individually called up alphabetically to meet with the million-dollar suited, tall, thin white male prosecutor (I assume – he is not introducing himself), who sits with his back to us, goes over the charges, records the pleas, and forwards the info to the judge, a very large, very broad in all directions, white-haired white male judge who is probably in his 40’s.

When court starts, I’m shocked to hear how many people are pleading guilty to minor traffic infractions, or some vehicle equipment failure, speeding tickets – not even “no contest” pleas but one after the other “guilty”. When one womon tries to change her “guilty” to “no contest” I get a glimpse of why people aren’t embracing that lesser plea.

It seems when people plead “guilty”, they are given more time to pay the fine and a lesser fine. When pleading “no contest” the fine goes up and the time goes down: they have to pay now and more money. But guilty leaves points on their driving record while no contest doesn’t.

A 40-ish year old Black man tells me he was stopped for speeding, 82 the officer admonished, in a 70mph zone. When the officer returned with the ticket, it said 92mph and when the victim questioned him, the officer threatened to raise it to 100mph.

I think I hear the prosecutor tell a young Black womon that usually fines are increased for those going to trial, but will be decreased now if she pleads guilty.

Another Black man was stopped with an expired license that he claimed was renewed but he hadn’t received the new one yet. The officer calls DMV in Virginia because he sees a “St. Thomas, VI” address on the expired license. Right. Virginia DMV of course has no record of the driver, so he issues another ticket.

In addition to the man’s home address, across the top of the license – for those ignorant of the VA abbreviation for Virginia – in bold large print are the words: “United States Virgin Islands”.

A young, very slender Black womon has been charged with possession of less than an ounce of marijuana which the officer ‘discovered’ after stopping her for speeding….hmmmm

She trembles wide-eyed as she nods to the judge, giving her a year’s probation with monthly probation meetings, fined $1367.50, 20 hours of community service. And by the way, she agrees to give up her right to refuse the searching of her home, her vehicle, her possessions, and yes, her body by ANY police officer or ANY public official at ANY time…

Then it’s my turn. I enter the only “Not Guilty” plea I hear. The judge is not happy. He begins to read me my rights, which include a right to a public defender if I qualify, and a right to a jury trial. I request both.

He then orders me to pay a $400 cash bond pending the trial. I’m stunned. I ask why he is doing this and he lets me know that it is to ensure I will return for trial.

I tell him that I’ve already come back to Georgia 2 months after receiving the ticket to this arraignment to enter a “not guilty” plea. He riffles through papers, looks at the computer, and responds with something like it’s the law.

I inform him I do not have $400 cash – I don’t say I wouldn’t give it to the county of Cook (which the womon sitting next to me who lives here claims this is Crook County) to hold for months and months even if I had it, which I don’t.

He tells me I’ll have to go to jail if I don’t come up with the money. I tell him he misunderstands, I WANT this trial, I’m looking forward to this trial, I’m greatly anticipating going to trial.

He calls forth the youngish white woman police officer leaning boredly against the oak door frame behind which guilty people have been disappearing with the court bailiffs and asks her to escort me to jail. I ask the judge about my vehicle – I don’t really care about me going to jail but I’m worried about my truck. He assures me it will be fine for a day or two.

What the fuck??? The officer is visibly embarrassed, mumbles what sounds like an apology and a ‘just doing my job’ remark, then, even tho she mumbles she’s supposed to, doesn’t handcuff me until we get to her police car.

The judge comes down and catches us before I sit in the car & says he’s heard I want to speak to him. Has he? I reiterate again that this is not necessary: I want to go to court. I ask him to release me on my own recognizance and he claims he can’t. I ask him to reduce the bond to $100 and he claims he cannot.

So I ask about my truck, which he doesn’t see. He reassures me that will not happen and orders the police officer to make sure it is not towed. And off we go to jail.



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