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Justin Hall at the Halls of Justice

Exiting, station left, I was confronted by scores of tapes and cameras; made up asian women newscasters and overweight middle aged white guy court reporters asking if I was a protestor.
That I had not been made my story all the more worthwhile.

"You were on your way to buy groceries? John, get that camera over here. What'd you say your name was?"

I spoke to newscameras, newstapers, newspapers:

Yeah, they strip searched me. A fiasco, the whole thing. Hundreds more locked up inside. No, I was not brutalized. I don't know if I will be filing charges.

Since our arrest, there had been a protest vigil outside. In spite of my role as a writer, I was invited to invigorate the ring of scruffy stragglers and signs strewn across the concrete steps, ringed by temporary fencing.

Well, I wasn't protesting for Mumia, the march caught my eye. Being arrested, charged with a felony, strip searched and detained having to watch the price is right on a steel picnic table, I have a lot more sympathy for him!

"yay.!"

I handed back the megaphone, swiftly approached by three earstwhiles. "You a student? Interested in coming to one of our meetings?" handed the United Workers Liberation Front newspaper by an older wiry dork of a fellow.

Actually, my roommate is a Marxist, so I've been through this stuff already, thanks though.

"Great!" a gap toothed black she beamed, "How would you like to conduct one of our classes?"

I wouldn't really feel qualified.

"Do you have a copy of the manifesto?" asked the until now silent third, short raven haired green eyed worker uniting elegant beauty of a woman. I moved closer to tell her I did not. She offered me one, and tried to negociate my reluctance to teach.

Her partners drifted away. She actually asked me if I wanted to coffee somewhere. I was torn, she was a blazing babe, but she seemed more interested in my politics than my penis. Holding forth on my white liberal guilt might have won a coffee date, but my soul wasn't in the sale.

After all this stand-up, I reentered the building to use the bathroom and try to get my stuff out of lockup. The cop at the door said, "uh-uh buddy - come back later."

I was quoted in an article, Arson charges follow protest in the 28th Examiner.

Calling the DA the next day - has there been a lot of opposition? "Yes, I've got a phone full of them calling right now."

The charges were not persued by the DAs office, for want of evidence. They have until July 27 to come up with sufficient evidence and recharge us. George

George jr got his $5500 back.

I called the cops about getting my photographs and fingerprints back. They all laughed in my face, some hung up on me. "You can't have them, they are part of our records." The charges were declared a crock. "Regardless, you were arrested, and we keep records on everyone that comes through here."

i found this to be exactly the case;
driving ovid's beat up ford pinto's, with a broken headlight, i was pulled over soon after freedom. the cop took my license to his car, came back,

"you were just arrested?"

that sucked, he knew that i was on file, and probably for what too. if every cop who looks at my license sees "felony attempted arson" i could be in for a few more hassles in my lifetime.

Finally I got the scoop from my step-father, I have to file a motion to expunge. More money, time and effort into the legal system to undo what has been acknowledged as useless and timewasting already. so i made the city pay for it, with a lawsuit.

there's no way I'd let them hold on to my personal info, when I could be putting it up on this web page!


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