“A Tale of an American Political Prisoner”
Part 2.2: Montgomery County Jail; Dayton, Ohio
A True Story; 100% verifiable with Text Messages, Emails, Video/Audio, Court Documents and Testimony.
Three days had elapsed behind bars before President Trump left the White House. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would spend zero days in Joe Biden’s America; not knowing that I would never see my home again. During my single hour of Recreation, I watched the news coverage of Trump leaving the White House. Apparently, he brought some interesting boxes with him; but I wouldn’t know that at the time as I sat alone in a cavernous concrete room lined with cell doors covered in peeling government-green paint. Behind those doors, dozens of men stood staring out the window slits of their cages and eyed me with curiosity and contempt. It was there that I sat alone with my thoughts while I watched Joe Biden take [emphasis added] Office. From the comfort of a steel and plastic formed chair bolted to the floor, I watched CNN do replays of the least attended Inauguration in US History; all thanks to Nancy Pelosi for installing miles of unnecessary fencing and the heavily armed National Guard patrols which surrounded the Capitol Building. It seemed fewer people would attend the Biden Inauguration than even his pathetic rallies – where the media sat bored in half a dozen social distance circles. It was there, from behind bars, that I watched with perverse amusement as his “glorious” moment was ruined. FJB! >:)
Meanwhile, the Media was very interested in interviewing me. I chatted with a Dina Zambino from 60 Minutes (off the record) and I seriously considered the interview. I desperately wanted to set the record straight. I was innocent, charged with crimes I didn’t commit. Why didn’t they just look at the footage and see we didn’t do anything? As badly as I wanted to clear my name, I ultimately I declined. I didn’t trust the media to cover my story fairly. That was good thinking; Michael Sherwin was waging a war of “Shock and Awe” on anyone from January 6th and he would go on 60 Minutes to brag about it. And 60 Minutes ate it up like a fat kid gobbling candy on Halloween. When my pseudo-Public Defender brought me my charging documents, I was astounded by the vast number of lies that filled the document. Every page was filled with lies; irrelevancies, obfuscations, miscontextualized information and half-quoted texts. One such instance was in my Zello chats. I said “We’re sticking together and sticking to the plan”. The plan was clearly articulated; to escort the VIP’s and Congressmen – not to attack the Capitol. You couldn’t swing a dead cat in my text messages without hitting a mention of VIP’s, Congressmen, Protective Details or Antifa. It’s obvious what the “plan” was, and it WASN’T the Capitol, which was never even mentioned, not even one time. None of that would matter to the corrupt FBI/DOJ. In the charging documents, they simply ignored all the evidence and invented a story out of thin air. And they charged me based on their lie. It was shameless, and my mental health took a nosedive. I wanted to die. But that was not the only issue I suffered.
My arm and ribs were still broken, and I while the men got 10 hours of Recreation per day, I was forced to spend the entire day in Solitary Confinement. My broken ribs and arm throbbed mercilessly as I struggled to find comfort on a paper-thin mat covering a steel bunkbed. There was simply no way to get comfortable. After a few days, Medical called me down to replace their SAM Splint with something more permanent. The cast they attempted to put on was not molded to my arm properly at all, and looked like a … well, like a sledgehammer. They screwed it up so badly, and when it dried, it put pressure ON the broken bone, rather than supporting it. My arm hurt so badly, I quite literally cried. The medics ultimately took it off and wrapped it in an ACE Bandage until they could reattempt to put the cast on it. But, they would never get their chance. I would soon be gone from their facility. The next day, I was taken into custody by the same FBI Agents, loaded into their paddy wagon, and driven to the nearby courthouse for my Arraignment. The US Marshals took my DNA, fingerprints and brought me into the digital courtroom to meet Judge Faruqi. That moment is when I discovered just how strongly they were throwing the book at me. I was charged with Obstruction of an Official Proceeding. Conspiracy. Conspiracy to Assault and Maim Police Officers. Destruction of Government Property. Knowingly Entering and Remaining on Capitol Grounds. Violent Entry of a Government Building. The charges totaled up to a total of 37.5 years.
I was astounded. Besides trespassing, I hadn’t committed ANY of those crimes. When Judge Faruqi asked “Do you understand the charges?”, the Media got a big laugh when I replied “I understand that I am charged with them. I just don’t understand why.” Soon articles would flood the airwaves, ridiculing me for my naive response. I did as my temporary Public Defender advised; to waive my right to a Bond Hearing in Ohio. He said, “He will deny you Bond. You’re better off being extradited and fighting for Bond in Washington DC”. Nope. But at the time it gave me hope. After Donovan Crowl’s hearing, we were loaded into the paddy wagon. Back at the jail, Donovan and I looked at each other in the elevator. Handcuffed and flanked by guards, I shook my head in shock; completely numb I told him, “Jesus, with the way they’re charging us, we would have been better off if we had killed someone”. Donovan just stared daggers at me. He didn’t say anything. He stared at me in silence; hate filling his eyes. I knew what he was thinking. He hated me for being transgender. He hated me for getting him involved with the OathKeepers. He blamed me for everything. I was no longer his best friend. I was just the stupid faggot that ruined his life. Later, during the course of Discovery, I got his jail messages with his Uncle. His emails would say just that; he called me a faggot, he called me “a man”, he called me an “it” that dragged him into everything. Two days later, I was gone. The FBI transferred me to the US Marshals and I was moved to the Butler Country Jail in Cincinnati, Ohio. A new chapter from hell was about to be written and another nightmare awaited.
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