“A Tale of an American Political Prisoner”

Part 6.4: The DC Gulag; Washington, DC

–New Traditions and Newsletters–

A True Story; 100% verifiable with Text Messages, Emails, Video/Audio, Court Documents and Testimony.

Within a month of living in C2B, there was a notable decline in the overall morale and mental health of the Political Prisoners within the walls of the DC Gulag. I cried incessantly, was prone to manic fits of anxiety/hyperventilating/depression. America had turned their backs on us; we were terrorists to the Liberals. We were a pariah to the Conservatives. I have never felt so abandoned, so alone, so hated. I cursed the Biden Regime and the Democrats, I cursed Trump for not saving us on the way out of Office, I cursed my country for believing the Media’s narrative (lies) about J6 and for treating us terrorists, I cursed God for allowing it all to happen. I cursed myself most of all, and I wanted to die. But, despite it all, I clung to hope. Hope that I’d be granted Bond. Hope that the truth would come out, thanks to @JulieKelly. Hope that this nightmare would end and that I’d be vindicated. Spending 23 hours per day in a 60-80 square foot concrete box is unhealthy for the mind, so I turned my mind to productive uses; surprisingly manifesting itself as comedy.

At those times, we got very little news. At this point, not everyone had a radio to listen to 105.9FM WMAL; Conservative Talk Radio. Many of us slept all day, and we missed big breaking news. So I decided to do something fun. I decided to write a Newsletter for the Unit. We didn’t have any newspapers, so I spent entire DAYS writing my own Jailhouse Publication. It was called “C2B – Capitol to Bars. The Official C2B Newsletter”. Unbeknownst to me, it would become the spiritual precursor to the Gulag This! articles that I continue to write today. The C2B Newsletter was a fun challenge that I launched myself into full throttle. I put in “Jail Recipes” for fun foods/drinks to be made out of Commissary items. I put in poetry. I had a “Joke of the Day” section. I’d do comedic commentary on current events (much like I do on here), jailhouse tips, and I wrote deep/insightful articles about politics. But I wasn’t alone. C2B kept filling up with Political Prisoners, and the demand for the news kept increasing. I needed help, and so The C2B Newsletter had many contributors. Many of those who wrote articles for me had “chicken scratch” for handwriting. My handwriting is pretty and legible, so I re-wrote everything they wrote for me… every day. It was challenging, it took me 6-7 hours to craft, and my hand was cramped into a writers grasp and my back ached from the effort. it was worth it.

The C2B Newsletter was a resounding success, and it helped keep everyone connected. I still have them all, except for the first one, which I gave to Ronnie (I regret that now in hindsight). I will publish images of them at some point; frankly, I feel they have some historical relevance. I tried to keep close tabs on who had the Newsletters. There was a lot of them circulating, and I wanted to keep them – not just for posterity but also for reference. Someone was stealing them, and giving them to the guards. I kept them light/harmless, but it offended me that a snitch felt so strongly about sabotaging our fragile community that they would attempt to leak them to the Feds. They had literally NOTHING that could be considered harmful to anyone’s case or reputation. And yet still it happened; the Newsletters kept getting stolen and leaked. Soon the Media (most notably Vice) was doing articles talking about MY Newsletter; about how C2B was being “radicalized” with Right Wing Extremism. Nothing could be further from the truth, but that wouldn’t matter. Soon, the source of the leaks would be exposed, and we found out that one of our J6 brothers, a douche canoe by the name of Tom Sibbick, was going to throw us all under the bus. But more on HIM later. After a pipe burst in a cell above me, my cell started smelling like piss. I asked to be transferred, and I was moved into Cell 5 (later became Jeff Sabol’s cell).

Cell 5 was just behind the Officer’s desk, and that put the brakes on my Newsletter contributors. My writers were uncomfortable hanging out at my cell door, which was beside the Officer. But one man was completely unintimidated. Mr. Bigo Barnett. He brought forward an idea that would live on! He had an idea that he wanted written into the C2B Newsletter. He wanted all us Patriots to sing our National Anthem every night at 6pm. I LOVED that idea, and so I eagerly wrote it into that day’s edition of “Capitol 2 Bars”. The night after the Newsletter went out, we sang our National Anthem together for the first time. We were badly out of tune, we were made weak through malnourishment and depression from long days in Solitary Confinement, we were thoroughly disheartened. But we did it anyway. In the span of a year, it would be a tradition spanning the Nation, one that would go on to be recognized by President Trump. At the time however, it was a morale boost. A reminder of who we are, and what we stand for. But the 6pm timeframe was bad. People were on Rec, calling their families, and trying to get in the shower; all during their one hour out of their cells. Soon, I was moved back into Cell 18, next to Guy Reffitt. He and I got to talking and we decided: 9pm was better. We were all in our cells at that time. Guy and me would wake each other up, beating on our cell doors and screaming “It’s that time, Patriots! Look alive!” Me, Guy and another J6er friend of mine (Sam) would all start singing. The others in the Unit would invariably join us, finishing out the National Anthem with everyone at their doors singing. We had started a tradition that would become a phenomena.