Читать книгу Sold Short In America - Richard A. Altomare - Страница 12

The SEC actually demanded that their Judge send me to a Manhattan jail for "civil contempt" for not being able to pay the $3,000,000 fine, which exceeds my total salary earned over the past fourteen years. My attorneys told me it is highly unlikely to be incarcerated for civil contempt. Nevertheless, I am still writing from inside a prison cell with no crime committed.

I think the loss of a developing company without any hearing or trial is a crime. Confinement without a crime is a crime.

This morning, I began to wonder at what price one finally acquiesces. At what stage of pain, loneliness, fear or loss does one drink the Kool-Aid? Is authority always the victor? Is integrity worth your freedom, your family, your life, and your dignity? Do we genuflect, and at what price? Each individual must make that choice. There are some willing to martyr for their belief, and yet others say "OK, if you don't want me to believe that way - no big deal"?

Is my Judge someone who has been told to believe (and believes) that the SEC is right, no matter what they say? Has he simply “parroted” the SEC’s opinion and disregarded my position and me personally as an individual and respected member of society? In this society do most agree with him? Are most afraid of authority? Does my pain this morning need to be further expanded or simply accepted? Will I lose forever the world I built? Does the pain ever subside, or will pain get more difficult each morning? A true patriot, Patrick Henry said, "I regret that I have but one life to give for my country". This is how I still feel today.

What are my limits? What are my loved ones limits? Why do others in political re-education camps acquiesce? Can one "pretend" to believe or does a "pretend sell-out" still mean a sell-out? To whom, am I selling out? How long must I suffer for a cause which may or may not ever be admitted? Who pays for my financial destruction? What if the system is broken all the way to the top? If my destruction is so easy, why will they relent? When and if I return home; will I ever recover financially? Will others look differently towards me? Not heroically, but with contempt or fear? Do members of a society see when that society has begun to die?

I have sold all of my remaining personal assets to fund the appeal of this unconstitutional decision for my shareholders and myself.

How many mornings away before loved ones forget about you?

Waking up in here has become "normal". Time has been taken away as well. I have committed no crime, but have the perceptions of the propagandized lies of my fabricated wrong-doing made me appear toxic and dismissible from other's lives?

Who will trust to work with me? Will this diseased SEC-created leper (me) now be distrusted by those in the financial establishment? Will the wrongs created by one Judge and the fearful mistruths of the SEC, as well as their conflicted receiver ever be reversed? Have they successfully painted this victim as the criminal and improperly punished him - despite his honesty and integrity?

I persist, and I suffer. I suffer for my country. Has my America forgotten? Have my fellow Americans chosen to not fight for what has always made us different from other civilizations? In these deep dark morning moments, like a shaggy dog, shaking water off after a bath; I shake, but I must not forget it isn’t water I’m trying to shake off, but injustice. When such injustices as these occur, City hall can and should be defeated, because Americans are given the opportunity to define themselves, their character and their reputations. No matter how vulnerable, pained, angry, disgusted or righteously indignant one has been made to feel - one must persevere and fight for truth. Take everything from me - but you can't take away the TRUTH!

I am listening to a dialogue between an inmate and a prison representative. Apparently, the inmate didn't listen to a guard. The representative basically sentenced him to sixty days of no visitation and thirty days of no commissary privileges. What then about my phone rights? When will someone recognize that no crime has been committed? Hearing my attorney tell me I am innocent and this is an outrage, does not rescue me from a world foreign to any well-balanced society member. I left a note hanging outside my cell demanding a phone call. After listening to that "counseling" session on disrespect, I decided to wait until they let me call. I ripped up the request. This is like playing cards with the guy who made the cards and who changes the rules of the game as it is being played.

As this gum chewing cow-like woman CO counseled two other inmates about not disrupting the system and following the rules, I waited until she finished. Maybe she could help me make a phone call. As she finished, I requested to speak to her. She walked away ignoring me as her gum chewing continued, unabated. The young man in solitary was put here because his counselor didn't fill out his requested visitor's pass and his mother was not allowed to visit him after coming from Kansas. He expressed his frustration and questioned his counselor's professionalism. That's a crime? There is no professionalism in this macabre world of disorder and inconsistent laws. It is the exact opposite of what on paper they pretend it to be. That is the truth. Save these young people and damaged individuals from more damaging behavior. Completely reform this prison system. Privatizing it only assures more unnecessary arrests to insure private corporate profitability.

It's frustrating not knowing the results of today's call with the Judge, which was to discuss my release. Not hearing anything however makes me think that the answer was no release again today. I’ll wait until tomorrow morning, and still hope for a degree of civility and my eventual release.

Tonight there is not much to report, but the phone situation remained the same. I did receive the phone tonight, but the prison computer said "no way". I plan to hand the warden another letter tomorrow on his Thursday morning walk through. I hope my letter is also met with some degree of professionalism and responsiveness.

Showers occurred again tonight. This was my first mouse in the shower experience. At first, it seemed the guards were trying to treat me with the same courtesy which I extend to them. – Then the mouse. I just miss my family. I worry at the financial challenges that this incarceration, as well as these appealed fines will do without my legal victory occurring. Yet still, I didn't step on the mouse.

I may be trading a book tonight with a cell neighbor. I hope I get one in English that I can actually read.

It's quiet tonight and I hear it is only 8 PM. That's not a long time until I try to sleep without thinking about going home tomorrow. Remember we have no clocks, and time management becomes a mind exercise in here.

Today after my legal visit, it took over an hour and forty-five minutes to get me back upstairs. They had only one elevator and I am a low priority, I guess. Lunch was three hours cold waiting for me. It contained a pretty hard piece of meat, which I put on a sandwich. Dinner was spaghetti and two ounces of an inedible spicy sauce. I'm certainly not overeating.

Tonight's book trade was typical of this institution, and worth trying to explain. The inmate next door yelled to me "did I want to trade books"? "Yes, tonight", I said, "I'm just about finished." I had over 200 pages to read, but he seemed anxious and I didn't want to keep him waiting. I read from the end of my legal visit to just after my shower. "I'm ready", I said. A guard came by and both the other inmate and I explained the trade. The guard gave me his book, I handed my book to him to give to my neighbor. There was silence. I began reading. Then the sad voice from my neighbor was heard. "Did you give him the book"? "I didn't get it," he said. I started yelling for the guard and one of the orderlies found the book I was yelling about. The disappointment in the voice of my neighbor made me somehow feel I had let him down. I could see the book that the orderly was holding. He said, "I'll bring it in when they unlock the doors." I felt relieved. I hadn't let this poor reader down. One hour, two hours. The book was still missing. No book could be found, and my neighbor had nothing to read. It's so revealing of a system without professional consequences.

This morning I awoke early (before breakfast) to prepare for the warden's walk-through, to update my diary, and to organize if I am leaving. I won't be disappointed because appropriate actions just don't always occur in a world permeated by malaise and lack of attention to detail surrounded by men and women "doing their time". That's the employees of the Justice Department as well of the inmates of whom I am speaking.

With the help of the orderly, I had another book delivered to my neighbor. At least he will have something to read now.

As I await the Warden's visit, I was visited by one of the CO's (Rutgers) who has been trying to "figure out" the phone problem. He truly seems perplexed. He asked me if I had paid for my PAC (identification numbers). "No, and no one asked me to do so", I said. In fact, I have my PAC number on my commissary form I didn't pay for my inmate number or my PAC number. This CO has been here in this system for over 15 years from what I can assess. Why is my phone snafu unique? No one pays for the number given to you when you enter prison. Certainly if this were true, how are my commissary products being delivered? Why wouldn't the counselor have done it? Why wasn't it in my documents? Frankly, after twenty days shouldn't I have been told! Others have never heard of it - but in the air tight system of double-talk anything is possible. Confuse, confuse, confuse. Therein lies their power and control.

At moments like this I am reminded of the James Baldwin quote from "Another Country".

"The aim of the dreamer is to go on dreaming and not to be molested by the world. His dreams are his protection against the world. But the aims of like are antithetical to those of the dreamer and the teeth of the world are sharp.” (James Baldwin)

"Their teeth may he sharp, but so is the skin on my neck. The neck of a "leatherneck" (U.S. Marine) is impenetrable." (Richard Altomare)

Well, I gave a note to the Warden. He appeared surprised but appreciative. The rest of the “suits” rushed to find out "what my problem was?" I told my problem to the one who was in charge of phone calls. He was going to "get right on it". We'll see! In my letter I simply explained the facts, gave a brief background on why I was in solitary and I offered to discuss "my observations of this prison" if anyone was interested. Let's see if I get to the top of any list. The book lady wasn't there, but all the “suits” copied something down on their clipboards. It's so pathetic that one has to go through this method to get the basic printed and promised human rights.

Today my legal visit is late. They served me lunch before I went downstairs. This could be a very good or very bad sign. Maybe they went to the Judge's chambers for an order to release me. Or maybe they couldn't get into the legal conference room because they were waiting for others to finish. I really can't speculate. Maybe they just served lunch early. With no clocks or frame of time reference beyond the meals, I could be simply over reacting to an early lunch. We shall see!

This afternoon a "case manager" appeared at my door. "Hello," I said. "Are you a Counselor or an education person, medical personnel, or a psychologist?" "No", she quietly said, "I am a case manager".

Anticipating the obvious answer I said, "Other than managing a case, what does a case manager do, which might be different than a counselor or any other professional?"

"Nothing really", was her response. "I just manage cases". (Damn, she still got to say it). For example, the masochist in me continued," if I hadn't made a call in twenty-two days, could you help me?" "Only twenty-two days? we have until thirty days, and then you can complain," she responded. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?" she concluded with a smile. "Oh no, what else could I possibly want, except do you need a partner to do this job?" was my flippant response.

Whenever I lull myself into a sense of understanding, they seem to move the administrative bar of disbelief yet another degree lower.

With the most sincere of intentions, I do not know with whom to speak. The CO passes the ball to the administrator, the administrators pass it amongst themselves, then the "form" or "list" people never appear, so the administrator and the CO's can continue to blame this secretary, who supposedly works 24/7. In the Bureau of Prisons that probably is 24 days (or hours) a month for 7 months a year.

On paper, our family is told that we can call whenever we want. In reality, silence and non-communication assists the prosecution in disorienting and performing verbal and intellectual lobotomies until they either acquiesce or apply for one of these jobs to work here.

An examination of their managerial qualifications reminds me of two tongue-in-cheek 1960 military draft stories. In the military, I always believed they were too lazy to make up new exams year after year. Yet, some soldiers would cheat. So to avoid cheating, the administration would not change the test - only the answers.

Yesterday, one of the guards (almost 350 pounds) told me that FBI agents and prison guards took the exact same test. Fortunately one of the more realistic guards said, "Yeah, but we don't have to get as many questions correct as they do."

If these suited professionals take a test to get this job, do they toss and turn at night pretending they work, or are they incapable of describing their actual duties on a future resume because they really did nothing? Filling time is more difficult than actually working or doing time.

There is one guard whose eyes and demeanor tell me he knows what is wrong here and makes me want to apply for the job of Director of Prisons Nationwide. Who better qualified than a former inmate without a criminal record? I have listed twenty-five suggestions for improvement with the warden to discuss. Care to make a bet on if anyone talks to me?