Life on the Other Side of the Rainbow Part 2

When I left off my wife was preparing to head back to the states. And me I was now out the active duty Air Force headed for the unknown. As I stated how I had fallen so far from what could have been a promising career in law enforcement (from a local city cop to the possibility of the US Marshall service) or any other career. Now I was on the other side of the coin. I had crossed "The Thin blue line" a good guy who once caught desperado's now I found myself in that number. The joke is I was really innocent. My only crime stupidity and not having a cam-corder. Again let me go back to the proper time reference. My wife had gotten her orders. I will at this time not disclose the location. But it was her assignment after Germany and before South Carolina. It was a nice assignment too. For me I was starting over. Of course no longer a military Air Force cop. I hung up my gun-belt and badge to be a merchant. I sold shoes. I think I already mentioned that and I worked at a sports apparel store, Russell Mills outlet. I really liked my job. I could basically wear to work what I wore at home and tennis shoes of any type all the time. And I could even buy much of what I sold at "rock-bottom" prices including the prints for the attire. I had tons of stuff. On top of that when I was a shoe sales specialist I liked that also. And my part-time job doing security. And no I did not work all three jobs at one time. I started out in shoes then to security then last was Russell Mills. So from Russell Mills I will continue. One day I had to take my wife to the airport. She was going to her military school I think I may have mentioned this also. We hugged and kissed then I got in out 2 door coup brand new 1988 Grand AM and headed back home. As is my style I was extra-special dressed when I drove my wife to the airport. This was during the time that the rap & Hip Hop group "Public Enemy" or PE was really en vogue and the South Africa crusade to fight apartheid was in full force. Basically a big political surge of awareness in Africa especially South Africa even my license plate had a logo which read "BLACK BY POPULAR DEMAND" on a shiny black new 1988 Grand AM. And me all in black my shirt,my pants, I was wearing the so-called "stove-pipe" black leather hat with my black shades and around my neck my silver Leo the lion necklace we had gotten in Germany. And I am a speed menace. And our car could move out. If anything could rescue me if I got in a jam it was my military ID and my Air Force police badge and the credentials with it. But in some instances I still got my ticket. But this day would be different and it would change me for the rest of my life.

So here I was in this nameless place racing down the interstate trying to get back home. Perhaps just going a bit too fast. To get the attention of two trooper cars. I said to myself of course not the right thing to say or do. I saw the flashing lights. I wasn't going to run. But I sure wanted to hide. All I needed was a speeding ticket to boost my insurance rates. I stopped my car. At this time because it ties in with the story. This event happened to me years before "Rodney King's Beating in California" and the advent of cam-corders. The troopers pull me over. One of them maybe his name was D.C. Roper. I know his real name it was in the phone book of his racist town though he was from Rhode Island. Roper runs up to car. He's a sawed off runt trooper. Yelling at me to pull out my registration you know the drill. To complicate matters since their is more to this story which will be revealed in my book. I was black and the other guys meaning civilian law enforcement were white. In fact when I was pulled over I had been followed by an unmarked black cougar. Which I had no idea was a cop. He was driving behind me in a "plain-wrapper" do lights flashing in the grill or on top of the roof or inside the car. For all I knew it could have been someone casing my black car. But it wasn't it was a cop. Which I learned when I stepped out of my car. I tried to explain I was lost in the area I had come to find myself in. And I was scared I'd be late for work at Russell Mills outlet. I could not call because this during the time the cell phone had not really caught on. The popular thing was a "pager" you know the joke about the majority of Doctors and drug dealers having them. So no cell phone to call my job to explain the situation I was in. And definitely no camcorder to review that days events which were about to take a turn for the worse.

So here I was. It was burning up hot. Now the black I was wearing was not so cool no pun intended. I was finding out that the troopers and the undercover cop were set-up on a traffic check-point looking for mostly Jamaican Drug traffic. I fit the profile in my look perfectly. As the late Johnie Cochran who brought racial profiling to national attention would say I fit the profile. But that case and Rodney King were years away. But I really could have used Attorney Cochran's help and expertise that day. Roper looked at my credentials all checked out. And I had my leverage I was also a cop and on top of that I had my BADGE,my ID and some credentials. Then the unthinkable happened first Roper and my partner wanted to search me and my wife's car and secondly they did not and let me repeat they did not and I say for a third time they did not want me to watch the search. Roper not his partner was trying to divert my attention. By getting me so wrapped up in paying attention to him writing a speeding ticket and giving me the speech on that. And if memory serves me correctly because this happened back in 1989 or 1990 he even went as far as placing his hand on my chest to stop me from looking. And I brushed it off. I should never have touched him. Even my casual brushing off of his hand got me arrested. Technically if I had cursed him I could have been arrested so physical contact crossed the line. Perhaps things even with my arrest maybe would not have went from bad to worse if he had handcuffed me without first spinning me around and then pushing me on to the hood of that extremely hot cruiser that day. By instinct I pushed off the car when my hands hit the hot hood. I exchanged words bad on my part he did also. The situation went out of control. The report had me on 8 different charges 6 were dropped when me and a couple of my white Air Force police Special Operations buddies came back to that town later to file a grievance against Roper and the highway patrol. And we accidentally ran into the prosecuting attorneys of my case who "let the cat out the bag" that the troopers case was shakey and many charges would be dropped. But that day. The day of my very first arrest in my "WHOLE" twenty-nine years of life I was going to jail. I wasn't worried about my car, or losing my great job at Russell Mills or even about getting a dishonorable discharge out of Air Force Special Operations. I only had 2 worries how was I going to explain this to mother and father (almost 30 yrs in the service) and mostly my wife now in Texas at her school.

I looked up in the ceiling of the jail cell I now found myself in. I had gone through so much. Roper had even threatened to shoot me. And to come back to my cell one night and teach me an attitude lesson. I was wanting to get out of that place as soon as possible. But let me go back for a minute. Why did Roper want to shoot me. Namely I had managed to get my hand-cuffs from in back of me to in front of me call me Houdini or real flexible. No I was not trying to escape the handcuffs were hurting my wrists I was restoring circulation. I knew how to place handcuffs these were on wrong and they hurt. In fact I was really stuffed into the trooper car and the air -conditioner was off in the car on purpose. I even asked for Roper's supervisor. He saw how I was now no longer sharply dressed. My shades were broken when Roper had put me on the ground using EXCESSIVE force a no-no in any cops book. For a situation that did not warrant it. I only blame his partner and the other cop of passiveness. DC Roper's partner tried to explain basically that Roper was "shell shocked" and the guy is small so his gun rather than ability it seems he was relying on. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even my car was mess when I finally found and paid for it. My public defender was a joke. Where was Johnie Cochran? I couldn't even get PTI (Pre-Trial Intervention) for my very first misdemeanor offense because get this I was married it. Strange but true I was married. I would not be writing this now years later. I would not even have carried because PTI would have erased this incident and any memory of DC Roper and that racist town and the clowns from my Public Defender to to the jokers when I was in a holding cell that would not even let me make my one phone call. And I was a cop who knew better. They even took my credentials including my badge that I did not even get back even when I got out on bail. My Commander Grady Broxton in Special Operations Unit finally got them but to this day I think even he too was involved in what I call a conflict of interest with the law enforcement and Judges and so on in that racist town. Now I may never know. But Foxx I am sure he will let me use his name,grew up in that town. And he told me as he drove me back home in his SS Monte Carlo the day I bonded out. I was in the wrong town when I got in my jam. And I was lucky that after I got out on bail. Another cop did not try to arrest me again because of so many stupid vagrancy laws in that town. Like for example a person say black or destitute white person just couldn't just walk over and look or peep into the bed of someone's pick-up truck or inside say the window of their car. Especially if it contained some valuables and so on. Because a cop might think that you were trying to perform a heist and if you like me did it without thinking as many do just being curious. Then you might you might find yourself being arrested again. Because the cop would say that I or a person looked mind you looked like they were going to commit a crime.