He was in flames, literally, and sitting right next to me.
I hadn’t noticed.
An individual sitting a couple of rows in front of me turned around. He noticed. He stated, “He’s smoking,” referring to the individual in flames. I ignored the man in front of me.
‘How could he be smoking,’ I thought, ‘ his hands were cuffed behind his back’ I placed his hands in those cuffs earlier in the morning when I found him hiding at a local motel. He was hiding for failing to appear in court on a criminal case for which I had posted a bond. When I originally bonded him out of jail, I became his bail bondsman. Because he failed to go to court, if I failed to produce the defendant in court, the court would have demanded payment in cash
Now here we were in Denver Drug Court, in the very back row, he on fire and I did not know it.
Denver Drug Court is a huge court room where upwards fifty people appear on current drug cases or while on probation. They are trying (Or pretending to try) to get their lives in order after being caught using drugs. This is where I brought my fugitive. Normally when making an arrest, I surrender the arrested directly to jail. This time though, due to lack of proper paperwork, I needed to surrender him in open court. This usually means a four hour wait until all the other cases have been heard. So… here we sat, he sending off smoke signals that I could not read.
A man in front and to my left began running down the aisle towards us.
To my right, two sheriff’s officers were approaching quickly. The man running down the isle on my left yelled, ‘He’s on FIRE!’
“What?” I thought. A bit irritated, I turned to look. And there was my defendant, his shirt in flames, the fire crawling up...
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And even as I sat next to him, he did not exist in the forefront of my mind. As my own thoughts paced back and forth, impatient at the wait, his thoughts were in panic mode. His thoughts screamed in terror. His thoughts reigned in fear and ruled his actions. Sitting next to him, I was oblivious to those desperations and fears. His silent flame of pain had to be noticed by others before I could take it in.
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In another courtroom, a young boy was set afire. However, his court was not a Court of Law, but a Court of Hate.
While held captive by a group of Muslims who had just finished murdering his parents, this boy was given a chance for freedom, to escape the fire that his captors had set. To escape a campfire of death.
The fee for his freedom was his conversion. If he became a Muslim, he could go free. If he
In July 2003, Sheriff’s Deputy Todd Shanks of Multnomah County Oregon was performing a routine traffic stop on a vehicle driven by William Barrett. During this stop, Shanks arrested Barrett because of an outstanding warrant and then searched the car. A pressure-cooker found in the trunk was believed to be used in the making of methamphetamine. Barrett informed Shanks that the owner of the pressure-cooker was “Gunner Crapser,” and that he could be found at the Econolodge Motel in a room registered to a woman named Summer Twilligear (FindLaw, 2007, Factual and Procedural Background section, para. 2). Deputy Shanks quickly learned that there was an outstanding warrant for a “Gunner Crapser” but to not confuse the wanted man, whose name was not actually “Gunner Crapser,” with someone else using this name.
On June 26, 2006, a Sheriff Officer of the State of Florida, William Wheetley and his drug detection dog, Aldo, were on patrol. Furthermore, Officer Wheetley conducted a traffic stop of the defendant Clayton Harris for expired tags on his truck. As Officer Wheetley approached the truck, he noticed that Harris was acting nervous/anxious, more than he should have, and he also noticed an open can of beer in the cup holder next to him. At that moment, Officer Wheetley knew that he was hiding something, he requested to search
“’Fire! I see a fire! I see a fire!’ There was a moment of panic. Who had screamed? It was
The father teaches his son how to carry the fire at first with his help, then, later without him. In turn, the boy keeps the fire alive within the man. The man is molding and stoking the fire within the boy, by his telling the stories of the old world and creating the sense of right and wrong in the boy.
I arrested Owens for PC 594(b)(1)-Vandalism. Sergeant Villalovos approved the arrest. Officer Cass and I transported Owens to the Pasadena City Jail for booking. Upon our arrival, I read Owens her rights per Miranda from a department issued card. Owens understood her rights by stating, “Yes.” Owens invoked her right and stated she wanted a lawyer present before answering any
handcuffs on him and put him the backseat of the cop car, and we all waved as they drove away”
"The jury will have a break to decide the verdict. Court released." He slammed his hammer and exited as the court emitted into a wave of prattle. The twelve of us ventured into a separate room; we went down a long lobby and into an alternate room. I was the last in in, so I close the entryway and bolted it. I turned to face the eleven men who looked almost as uneasy as I felt. One of the men I knew to be Henry Smithson swore with an elevated volume and said,
Suspect Thomas was arrested for H&S 11350-Possession of a Controlled substance. Sergeant Burgess #2003 approved the arrest. Officer Crawford and I transported the suspects to the Pasadena Jail for booking.
Humes, Edward. No Matter How Loud I Shout: A Year in the Life of Juvenile Court. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1996.
The Defendant was arrested as a result of a prostitution sting conducted by the Franklin Police department on June 28, 2017. According to the body microphone of Detective Kroeger, Franklin Police officers observed the Defendant drop off a woman later identified as Elizabeth Hernandez at 1505 Landings Drive, Franklin, Tennessee on June 28, 2017. Ms. Hernandez had previously agreed to meet an undercover officer for sexual activity in exchange for money. Ms. Hernandez had previously stated to the undercover officer that she would be transported to and from the location by her boyfriend, later identified as the Defendant. Police observed the Defendant drop off Ms. Hernandez and arrested her, charging her with Prostitution. Officers then conducted a traffic stop as Defendant exited the apartment complex. Immediately the officers noticed the smell of burnt marijuana coming from the vehicle. The
The boy on trial has been dealt as a bad child, growing up in a lousy
Approximately twenty feet in front of me was a young man, not much older than myself, sitting in a chair facing the judge. Behind me, the family of the teenage girl who was the victim of a sexual assault. The victim and her family were hysterically crying as the prosecutor began to play a tape recording of the girl’s 911 call from the night of the assault. I sat in awe watching the way the prosecutor and the defense attorney interacted. My only purpose in the courtroom was to take notes and learn
deputy had purposely put him in a cell next to a known jailhouse snitch to get a confession out of
With both hands resting lightly on the table to each side of his white foam cup, Otis stared into its deep abyss of emptiness with his head bowed as if willing it to fill again, giving him a reason to enjoy the shelter that the indoors provided. I could almost touch the conflict going on inside of him, a battle of wills as if he was negotiating with an imaginary devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. I sensed a cramp of discomfort seizing his insides, compelling him to flee, then a silent resolve, as if a moment of clarity had graced his consciousness.
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.