The Red Canary Is Out Of Jail (& image of police brutality)

Red Canary calling, Red Canary calling....Calling Red Canary...

I just got out of jail today. Yeah.

That was fun. Right after I was certain something else was going to happen to keep me from getting my son back, whaddya know? A total set up.

I can't give too many details because it is best for my attorney, but someone was hoping I'd be locked in there for awhile, which would have made it impossible to get my son back. I was also just falsely accused and everything kept getting turned around on me.

I was TOLD I could use this guy's car and then some woman claimed it was HERS, and told police this, and I was put in a police car for "Auto Theft." The first thing that came to my mind was that I'm a regular ole ganstah now, I guess, for taking someone up on their offer to run over to the cafe and sit all day. Grand Auto Theft, I thought, wondering what that video game is like. So, a felony charge and then all of a sudden something got downgraded and I'm standing in court and I hear the Judge reading that the car was NOT the woman's but the MAN'S. So back and forth and back and forth about who owns the fucking car. Auto theft. Yeah right. I was so on fire I ran right for the border. Undule! And then I came back and left my purse in the car just for kicks. My calling card. Thanks for the joyride guys! They downgraded to taking it without permission and I didn't even do that. I was let out on PR thanks to attorney Drury. I'm sorry, because I know he's married, but that is ONE HELL OF A GOODLOOKING MAN.

So the guy I thought was a "good guy", who I really didn't get any bad vibes from, except when I was wondering where his feminine Irish cross necklace came from...wasn't such a good guy. Not only that, I don't even know if the dude is Irish. His last name on the record was Italian but he does NOT look Italian. At ALL. I am still confused. I got all kinds of contradictory vibes from my ex, but then nothing from this other guy. I do not get it.

I was handcuffed by none other than...guess who? Who is the female sadist who always likes to show up on the scene when it involves me? Duke. Officer Duke. And what did she do after she arrested me for something I didn't do? She made two personal phone calls to her women buddies, from her personal cell, to announce she'd got me and I was arrested. One was made at 7:22 p.m. I looked at the time on the clock in the car. The other was made about 5 minutes later. "Hey WOMAN!" she said. This is what Mykal Holt says all the time. They have the same vocabulary or style. This woman loathes me for some reason and was smirking to every guard and officer about this. You know, but not all of the officers were openly weird.

Officer Stevens came across as halfway normal. Not really a saidst type. Not that he's perfect. Then I liked this Zeiger or whatever guy...someone who looked Italian but maybe it was something else. He was normal.

I got in there and I only wanted to talk to the guys who spoke Spanish. I was told, repeatedly, that no one spoke Spanish. They looked at me like I was nuts and then one of them went around the corner to say "That woman is nuts..." and he thought I couldn't hear him. I spoke up and said, "I can HEAR you, you know, and if you want to tell Officer Stevens over there, maybe Stevens can inquire himself." They tried to deny they were talking about me but I had heard them, from quite a distance I am proud to say. I explained to someone else there was more privacy if I talked in Spanish. It's sort of worrisome though, that there was no one there to speak Spanish. What do they do when Spanish speakers go in? they have to wait around twice as long? to get to talk to a Spanish speaking officer? or what? Based on what I saw, there are not enough Spanish speaking officers at the jail to meet the needs of the population they get in there. There should be more Spanish speakers.

Then that same guy saw me writing down names of officers and asked, "Why are you writing down names of officers?" and I said, "Oh! look at you! I've got the ears and you have the eyes!" He let me make a few extra calls but was smirking with Duke over me and trying to tell the other guy that I was nuts. THEN, they called the psychologist, and I asked her why and WHO had asked her to speak to me. She said several of the officers did. I asked why and she said they said I'd rung the bell 4-5 times that morning so they were "concerned".

What a bunch of sorry losers and bullies. Right. Concerned about how many times I rang the bell? What the hell. I looked that psychologist right in the eye, who was wearing a pin on her jacket lapel for CIT, whatever that is, and told her, "I'll tell you why I rang the bell:

1. There was no towel or I couldn't find it. So I had to ask where it was so I could take a bath. So, yeah, I rang the bell for a towel.

2. Then, I rang the bell because the kite forms I'd asked for the night before were not there. I had asked for paper too, the night before and didn't get it until the Italian looking guy came along to get it for me. But I rang for a kite.

3. I then rang to ask how to use the phone. I was trying to call an attorney and it wouldn't let me call out. So the woman comes over and I ask how to use it. She told me.

4. I had to call her back because it wasn't working. I made calls, even to the lawyers listed, and the calls were not going anywhere...they just came back as "this is not an authorized call." They weren't coming back as "party refuses call" but that it was an unauthorized number from the jail. So it was something going on with the jail phone. So yeah, I called the guard again because the phone wasn't working. Then I asked her if I could use a debit card and she said I couldn't use one to make calls. I said, "Then why does it say you can make collect calls or calls with a debit card?" and she kept trying to change the subject and finally said I could call a number to set up an account. I didn't get her last name. She was sort of butch looking with blond hair. Nothing wrong with "butch", but being "bitch" isn't very nice.

I think that was all of the calls.

What do they expect? Everyone knows all about jail life? They didn't call a psychologist because it was weird to make a few rings, they called because half of the officers in this town are assholes.

But some are good. Henley and this other guard that was there for the court hearing where they let me off.

Oh believe me, when I was on THEIR turf, the bad cops really like to joke with eachother and harass you about it. They use that territory to abuse and exert their authority when they were itching to get at you when you're out in the free world, writing their asses up. I cried only for about 5 minutes, at one point. The rest of time my head was up and I was surprisingly calm. I wasn't going to let it get to me because I knew they knew the minute I was out, I was writing up what I saw and went through.

When I was first handcuffed and Duke was grinning over to Matt Huson, I didn't let it phase me at all. I sat in there, with their little camera running on me, and felt nothing. No panic, just a peace because I knew I'd done nothing wrong, but this is the penalty I pay for "free speech". I was, once again, being punished for what I say and write. I once again, had someone setting me up and then trying to find a way to keep me in jail so I couldn't get things done for my son. So I sat there, very calm. Really, remarkable. Being accused falsely of "auto theft" and knowing you were set up is no small thing. But I was strong.

I remembered what I had just been told a few hours earlier, about these American reporters who were captured in Korea for "spying" when who knows what they really did...maybe just reporting. I guess they were railroaded in their hearing and sentenced to TWELVE years. So I thought about these American women. I think they were women. I thought about them and I thought about John McCain for some reason and how some people are tortured. And I am not the only one who is separated from children they love, unjustly.

I sat in there, thinking about how I was going to miss seeing my son and getting the psychological evaluation done and he was going to be adopted out to someone else because his mother was "in jail". I thought, this is it. I thought about what I could have done differently. I had no way of calling anyway that could really bail me out or help me because the police refused to let me have my purse with all my contact numbers and phone book. I don't have contacts in Wenatchee.

I thought about Corrie Ten Boom's book, "The Hiding Place" about hiding Jews from the Nazi's, which I'd read when I was about 10 years old. And then her sister wrote her own account and I read that one too. I remembered how they had been prepared with packages they could take with them if they were ever captured. They had little bags with paper, pens, chocolate, and small stuff to get them through, which they knew they were allowed to take in with them if they had to go to jail. Unfortunately you can't do that if you go to U.S. jail. But I thought about what other ways one could be prepared, if they are a target for various set ups. How the Russian reporter takes a videocamera with him everywhere. How I could have been more prepared myself, when I knew my apartments were repeatedly broken into and yet I didn't have cameras going. I could have done some things differently. And after what I've been through, it's not like it's extreme to think about some protective measures. And also, to be aware of the realities of what you're exposing yourself to and how this sort of thing is liekly to continue and not let up, as long as one is willing to write the truth, as one sees it, no matter what it may be.

Right before I fell asleep, I had several flashing images before me. I don't know if it was really me that I was seeing, or someone else, but I saw a scene of police brutality with a woman being pushed around and then slammed onto a dirt ground and her arms jerked behind her back. It was an outdoor scene. A group of cops men or women I don't know, and then I saw some other scenes too, but the first one was long and very vivid. It was dark outside, night time, but in the scene, you could see what was happening. Her hair was flying back as she was pushed around and then pushed down to the ground, where she fell and then was pushed into the dirt and arms yanked back.