3 Americas: More Truth Than We Can Handle 06 42 Days in Bob Hermann Monster’s Isolation Dungeon and the Coerced Plea Bargain

(Last updated: February 8, 2024)
3 AMERICAS: More Truth Than We Can Handle
Chapter 06
42 Days In Bob “Hermann Monster’s Isolation Bubble and the Coerced Plea Bargain
by DR Wolfe

{As I continue a full revision, this is one of the new chapters from my revised autobiography, “3 Americas”.}

(Includes strong language.)

Had I known, I would have taken a moment to eat something and drink some water that morning before the cops showed up to arrest me.

Several times over the past week we spoke by phone about the grand jury proceedings, but Christel, my wife, never said a word, even though she must have known the grand jury had indicted me the previous Thursday. I was accused of a Measure 11 Offense by the cops and persecutor, which is Oregon’s version of a mandatory minimum sentence, and my wife knew.

As planned, when the cops showed up it shocked me into this mental state of numbness, that left me traumatized. And it only got worse.

Unless you’re Hunter Biden, it’s the process that destroys the accused. The process of breaking a person down until they submit to the will of the state.

Unlike Donald Trump, who has lots of money and lawyers to fight such a political attack, those of us who have a severe disability and who has no money can do little to fight an attack from the overwhelming power of the state when our political enemies hold power.

While the radical feminists and the lesbians want to punish all straight men, neo-cons want to lock up every poor person who doesn’t serve them. The poor, straight men can do nothing.

the coercion began that morning in January of 2005 when the cops came to my door. At the time, I was subsisting on $700 social security and about $100 food stamps per month. As though it weren’t a regular practice in Oregon, they set my bail at a quarter-million dollars. This was well beyond my means.

Then once I was locked up in their jail, there was no chance of ever defending myself without my screen access technology.

Presumably, I have a constitutional right to council, the state gave me a fake lawyer. In fact, one of the worst lawyers in Oregon, who lied to me and did everything to screw me up, including the jail arbitrarily ending visitation with my son.

It became obvious the obese little man was not working for me when he allowed Washington County to subject me to several forms of torture, according to the CIA, including sleep deprevation and the “Twin Torture Technique”. Even though presumably under the constitution I was innocent until proven guilty.

While in the mean time, the public pretender and his even more obese assistant, Bernard Moore, pretended to represent me, they were actually working for the county persecutor and the highly corrupt Washington County Court.

Despite being the third largest county in Oregon, in 2005 and most other years Washington County sent almost as many people, mostly racial minorities and men with disabilities, to prison than all other thirty-six Oregon counties combined.

I hadn’t ate or drank anything since about eight the night before, when Beaverton Detectives Dennis Marley and Detective Eric Oaes showed up at my door that morning.

Just seconds before they knocked at my door Christel woke me up with a phone call, which was very coincidental. Especially since she had lied to me the previous Thursday evening when I specifically asked her if I had been indicted by the Washington County Grand Jury.

The grand jury met on December 30th, 2004 to indict me. this was the last day they would meet before the end of the month. In January, a new grand jury would be formed, and the persecutor, Greg Olson, would have to start the coercion process all over, like telling them I wasn’t completely blind.

This was strange, but there has been a lot of strange coincidences in my case, or should I say my set up.

For example, the day after Thanksgiving in November of 2004 I was referred to an alleged defense attorney by St. Anthony’s named Bob Hurd. Unfortunately I never got his business card or any other information except his phone number, and I am not even sure how to spell his last name.

What may have been even worse was that I didn’t figure out until later that St. Anthony’s was a shelter for women that helped women who were, or claimed to be, victims of domestic violence. So, I suspect Mr. Hurd had worked for the Washington County DA, prosecuting men for domestic violence, and was not a criminal defense lawyer as he claimed. Here’s what happened when I met Mr. Hurd.

You see it began when Mr. Hurd didn’t want to meet me at his office because he said it was closed for Thanksgiving, which should have sent off a whole bunch of red flares to my subconscious brain. Why would a private attorney’s office be closed the day after Thanksgiving, and why would it matter? Who was this lawyer, Bob Hurd, who told me when we met that he had worked for the Washington County D.A.? I never checked to see if he was still working for Bob Hermann, the Washington County District Attorney.

This probably doesn’t mean anything, but you never know. At the time the Presiding Judge in Clackamas County had a very similar name to Mr. Hurd. And my wife and I both had separate apartments in Clackamas County, where there was evidence that Christel was having an affair with a different circuit judge from this county.

Despite the appearance of impropriety, the good judge would often bring his own daughter to and from my wife’s apartment, alone, to visit my step-daughter. In other words, the judge’s wife never came with him to drop off or pick up their adopted daughter, not even once, according to Christel.

I briefly explained my situation to Mr. Hurd over the phone, including that I was totally blind and had no money or income besides Social Security. Despite this, he insisted I come out to Hillsboro and assured me, “we’ll talk about your case”. And for the first time in weeks, I became optimistic.

After a two hour bus and rail ride to Hillsboro, I spent about a half hour or more explaining my case to Mr. Hurd, who I thought was going to represent me. After all, why else would he need to see me in person, unless he was going to take my case pro bono? I told him I didn’t have any money.

According to the campaign information online, my wife’s good friend, Douglas van Dyk, was appointed to the bench in 2001 by John Kitzhaber, a good friend of some of the ladies at the Oregon Commission for the Blind.

Before being appointed to the circuit court, Van Dyk was formally a labor lawyer and practiced in Washington County, and may have been aquainted with Mr. Hurd. It took me awhile, But I figured out there was something fishy about my meeting with Mr. Hurd.

But the real problem in America is that public officials have immunity from any civil action, no matter how many dirty tricks they use under the color of law, or how much harm they cause. They destroyed my life and stole my son, but according to the Supreme Court there’s no remedy or recourse. The game is completely rigged against the poor, racial minorities, and people with disabilities.

One of the things Mr. Hurd told me that stuck in my mind was that Oregon and one other state [Louisiana] did not require a unanimous jury to convict a person in a felony case. “They only need ten jurors,” he said.

I wasn’t surprised by this, since I was already well-acquainted with the bigotry throughout Oregon against the disabled. I once heard Gavin Dawson from the local sports talk station say, “Brett Boone ought to be a paraplegic” after he missed a couple ground balls. And when I sent an angry E mail to the local Saturday sports show, “the Rookies”, one of the other guys, Chad Doing (“The Dog”), responded, “Look Gavin, there’s some pissed off guy in a wheelchair who’s mad at you.” He went on to say, “If you can’t take a joke, get a life buddy!”

Chad Doing went on to host his own sports talk show on Paul Allen’s new sports talk Trailblazer network. Doing went on to create a character for his show called, “Angry White Cane Guy.”

I remember thinking, it would be very difficult to convince three people I was innocent, when it would only be my word against a pretty teenage girl and her able-bodied, attractive white mother about what happened three or four years earlier.

I knew Oregon had a history of discriminating against other minorities. Until 1927, a black person needed a white sponsor before they could live in the state of Oregon.

And Oregon was the last state to end Eugenics. In 1983 the Board of Protection, as it was called, became the Board of Medicine. Unfortunately, they kept the same old group of wealthy bigots, who fifteen years later unjustly took away the medical license of Dr. Phillip LeVeech, the best medical marijuana doctor Oregon ever had.

Too my great disappointment, Mr. Hurd requested a $5,000 retainer.

I said, “Like I told you, I have no money.” He asked if I had any relatives who could pay. Again I told him no. Then he said he couldn’t take the case. That’s when I heard a person behind the flim-flam card board wall opening a drawer or moving something on a desk, like a recorder.

At that moment I knew why we were meeting here, and not at Mr. Hurd’s regular Office, but some kind of call center. It had thin card board dividers between each desk, with almost no privacy. But this is where he wanted to meet to discuss my extremely private case. Over the phone I had briefly told him about the charges, so he knew it was a private matter, but apparently didn’t care who listened.

“The office is closed for Thanksgiving Holiday,” he told me over the phone and gave me the address where to meet him in Hillsboro and I didn’t ask any other questions, since he sounded interested.

But I should have asked myself, why would it matter if his office was closed for Thanksgiving? Didn’t he have a key to his own office?

So when I heard another person listening, and it may have been Greg Olson from the DA’s Office, I knew I had told this stranger to much. I suspect he knew all along he wasn’t going to take my case.

My threat to implicate Christel in these far more serious felonies is probably why they indicted me for a felony, rather than a misdemeanor, which would have made some sense, given the circumstances.

I believe Mr. Hurd and the other person may have used this fake office space to carry out their nefarious plan, to mislead me and violate my constitutional right to client attorney confidentiality.

This is typical of how persecutors and cops treat indigent people in America, with the help of the courts. Bob Hurd should have probably been disbarred or suspended for pulling this stunt, but that’s not how it works with the Oregon BAR, or any other BAR in America.

The Bar Association is only here to protect the wealthy clients money from unscrupulous lawyers, and there is a lot of unscrupulous lawyers in America. So unless a lawyer steals a wealthy client’s money, the Bar is unlikely to do anything. Which means those who are indigent clients, and can not afford a real lawyer, are out of luck, as far as the BAR goes.

If the Bar Association weren’t a tool of the rich, they would have a chart that listed the number of clients a lawyer could effectively represent, depending on the field of law. And any lawyer taking more clients than the chart allowed, as all public defenders do, would be immediately suspended or disbarred. But you notice that’s not how it works, the BAR could care less how effective lawyers are for their indigent clients. to the BAR Association Only the wealthy clients matter.

As proof of this criminal injustice system that favors the rich and powerful, Bernie Matoff used a money scam to rip off hundreds of clients for tens of millions of dollars, and curiously for years the government and law enforcement looked the other way. Then he made the mistake of pillaging friends of movie producer, Stephen Spielberg, who happens to be Jewish, and Matoff was quickly arrested and convicted, where he died in Prison.

To this point, in a 1927 Supreme Court case, Justice Louis Brandies wrote about what would happen if the government’s failed to administer justice to all the people. He wrote, “It teaches the whole people by its example. If the government breaks the law, it breeds contempt for the law. IT invites every man to become a law onto themselves. It breeds anarchy.”

So if our government has been completely corrupted by the rich, and their lawyers, should we be surprised by these never ending massacres? You notice, these “shooters” almost never shoot the rich, who probably deserve it more than children. But no one deserves to die, by the hands of the government or anyone else. And maybe Kanye West is right, maybe we should try to love everyone.

Hurd added, “I just have too many clients at this time to take any pro bono cases. I’m Sorry,” he added in a sympathetic voice, that sounded completely phony.

I wondered why he didn’t say this over the phone and save me a two and a half hour bus/train ride both ways in the rain? I just assumed he knew I had a good case. from what I said on the phone. And I thought we would sign some papers, and that’s why he needed to see me in person.

But he could have just as likely suckered me into coming out there, to spill my guts about what I knew about my wife and her many lovers (And to give his friends Greg Olson at the DA’s Office, where he apparently worked for thirteen years, A substantial advantage).

Other than perhaps some video of me coming and going, there was no record of our meeting. So the prosecutor could get any witness to say anything they wanted to a secret grand jury. Including perhaps having Mr. Hurd or his snoopy friend to testify.

I was dumb enough back then to believe Christel and I were working on our marriage while temporarily maintaining separate residents. Obviously, it was all a farce, until a week after she graduated from Marylhurst and took my son away, forever.

I never ate or drank any water before I was taken away early that January 6th morning in 2005 from my Lake Oswego apartment by Marley and Oaes.

The two cups of coffee Detective Marley was so kind to bring me while I sat in the Beaverton jail, waiting to be transferred to the county facility, only served to dehydrate me a little quicker.

So as it worked out, other than the coffee, I didn’t have any food or water for over twenty-four hours until late that evening, as you can probably tell from the second mug shot they took that day. And as though it were planned this way, they waited until sometime that evening to take it, when I was feeling at my worst.

In fact, if you look at the mug shot Marley took while I was in the Beaverton Jail that morning and compare it to the one they took later that evening it should be obvious as to why they might have conspired to stress me out as much as possible before getting the mug shot they wanted.

But what I think really shows the dirty character of the Washington County Deputies and Bob Hermann, not withstanding the torture and murder of Jordan Case by Deputies Glenn “Howard the Coward” and John Jayne, which I describe below, it that they allowed me to leave my dark glasses on when they took my mug shot. Like the gullible goy I was back then, I thought they were being kind. And perhaps starting to recognize their obligation to accommodate me, even though they wouldn’t let me have my white cane. Not to mention, they never gave me water that first day and immediately put me into the Isolation Bubble, even though I did nothing wrong.

But now I think because wearing the dark glasses they knew it would be more likely that anyone looking at my mug shot would be immediately suspicious, rather than assuming this man is blind. Especially if they used my pic as part of a photographic line ups that they could show to victims. Or even better, they could show me as a registered sex offender wearing shades, I suspect that would really piss off a lot of people.

Anyone who looked at this pic would probably say, “He thinks he cool, doesn’t he!”

The truth is any one that saw my mug shot without my glasses would immediately know I was blind. By leaving the dark glasses on it made me look suspicious, even to lady lawyers who are guest lecturing to a group of college students at the University of Kentucky.

I think that was Bob Hermann and Greg Olson’s plan, and Christel gave them the idea. I was stupid enough to believe they were being nice but I should have known better, because persecutors and pigs are never fair to men with disabilities who have no money.

With Christel’s help, I suspect she provided the police with a photo they could show the grand jury. By wearing the glasses they knew the grand jury would be suspicious, and ask Christel how much I could see. And they were right.

Christel told me an Hispanic man on the grand jury had asked her if I was really blind. She never told me what she said, but I assume she was truthful and told him I had no useable vision? But maybe she lied and told him I had a little bit of vision?? A lot of idiots from Oregon think I do, but Christel knows I can’t see anything.

And how would anyone know I was really blind without seeing my eyes since as far as I know no experts testified to my blindness? Unless the crooks at the Commission falsely testified against me? And that’s probably why both Dennis Marley and Bob Hermann needed to take my mug shot with my dark glasses on, to keep everyone suspicious and doubting my blindness.

If the deputies weren’t sure what to do, legally, they should have taken two pics, one with the shades and one without. If I refused to take off the dark glasses for the pic, they would have had a good argument for only taking one pic, with the dark glasses on.

And consider this, according to the law the police aren’t supposed to show the images of anyone who is labeled as a low level sex offender in Oregon. Despite this, they showed my pic to people over and over anyway. What is really sick is that the dirty cops who did this didn’t care because they knew they would never be held accountable.

And their right, the police are hardly ever punished for injuring or killing a person who is disabled, let alone damaging their reputation or putting them in danger. You may be surprised to know one out of every four people killed by the police are people with disabilities. While it’s true, most of these people are labeled as “mentally ill”, most physical disabilities cause enough daily stress to evolve into something a lot worse if they don’t have a good support system. And, as with me, if the government is shocking them and pushing the right buttons to eventually roll them off the shelf, hoping they will kill other people before they are killed, what does a person do? Since the media has been so clearly compromised, there is no hope.

It’s not likely Merrick Garland or Ellen Rosenblum, the Oregon State Attorney General, or anyone else is going to do anything for a straight, mostly white man with a disability who was unfairly put on the death list. After all, this is Goonia, and I have no constitutional rights, simply because I’m the wrong demographic.

Taking my mug shot wearing the dark glasses was unconstitutional to me as a blind person. Since part of my face, and some would say the most important part, was hidden, It made me appear suspicious and more criminal. And it was highly prejudicial to anyone who saw it. And maybe that’s why the Portland Police showed it to everyone in my neighborhood?

Is this why KBOO’s Lisa Loving needed to protect the identity of a sick fuck she once interviewed?

According to Loving, he was regularly publishing the mug shots of accused defendant from Portland who were arrested, some of whom were never convicted.

So maybe we should ask, are all mug shots intentionally misleading, knowing that they can show this unflattering picture, without saying a word, as proof of their allegation that they are a criminal, Because that’s exactly what they did to me, first withholding water and stressing me out, and then finally, taking my pic with the dark glasses on.

The strategy is that, every dirty trick is used to make another dirty trick possible. It becomes a series of cascading events of mostly collateral damage to your life, and every shock or poke pushes you that much closer to the edge. Most lawyers and their wealthy clients know this, and sit by the pool with the other sharks and strategize how to best inflict as many little cuts as possible. The Registered Sex Offender List for mostly poor men is one way they do this to us, the men living here in Third America.

Intentionally dehydrating people is not only a strategy, some Washington County inmates have died because of this practice.

I soon learned Inmates are given a cup of this nasty, sugary liquid with every meal. Not just Washington County, this is done by many jurisdictions throughout the country to reach the inmate’s daily required caloric intake, without giving them actual food.

The recommended daily caloric amount, which Washington County jailers are intentionally manipulating, is intended to reflect the necessary daily intake of food the human body needs to function properly, so they can assist in their own defense.

And if an inmate should try to take their paper cup back to their cell, or keep it in their cells in the general medical unit, for a little water, it is quickly seized by the guard. They are told “you need a doctor’s note to have a paper water cup in your cell.

While it’s true, everyone knows the paper cup would make an excellent weapon, the real purpose in having the deputies take the paper cups out of the cells is to keep the inmates dehydrated, which causes the brain to function at a lower level. And for someone who is coming off hard drugs, or who may have a physical or mental impairment, the effect of this sadistic practice is substantially more injurious. Obviously, this is extremely beneficial to the county prosecutor’s ultimate goal, obtaining a plea bargain from every accused indigent defendant in the county.

I believe this is how they murdered Madaline Pitkin in 2014, in which the Pitkin family settled out of court for ten million dollars in damages, far less then they deserved.

The County gave Madaline a drink that severely dehydrated her. This drink included all kinds of sugar crap, which probably tasted good to her at the time and temporarily made her feel better.

However, much like being stranded at sea and drinking salt water, the sugar water very quickly becomes an enemy of the body which is screaming for fresh water. The result is, first the brain, and then the body, slowly begin to shut down.

In their own reports, the Washington County deputies stated they knew Madaline was extremely dehydrated. For nine days the deputies allowed her condition to worsen, as she drank the sugar water. They were the only ones who had access to her cell and should have taken her to the hospital and got her on an IV once she was unable to keep any food or liquid down.

Yet the Washington County Sheriff, Pat Garrett, blamed the medical staff in order to protect the county’s liability in a wrongful death suit filed by the Pitkin family.

However, Sheriff Garrett’s deputies didn’t need any one’s permission to call an ambulance for Madaline and order that she be transported to the hospital. In their reports, the deputies admitted they knew for days Madaline Pitkin was not eating or drinking anything. She was vomiting up anything she ingested, laying on the floor to stay cool.

Ironically, it was one of the nurses who eventually ended up getting me some food and water that first day. The deputies, who walked directly in front of me dozens and dozens of times, never once asked if I was okay, or needed any food, or water…which is why I know they negligently, and even perhaps maliciously, murdered Madaline. And I have no doubt, serving her that disgusting sugar water with every meal attributed to her early demise.

The truth is, persecutors and cops don’t care anything about anyone who is poor or unattractive, or who appears to be “defective”, and has nothing to offer.

As I sat there all day waiting to be processed, I wondered whether Marley and Oaes had the right to snatch me from another county? There were no Lake Oswego Police Officers or Clackamas Sheriff Deputies present to oversee the arrest of a dangerous Measure 11 suspect.

Would if I had resisted arrest and were killed in the process? It seemed kind of reckless to charge a person with a Measure Eleven crime and not have any local law enforcement officers there to witness the arrest.

Also, did Marley and Oaes have a right or legitimate reason to take me to the Beaverton Jail first, which delayed my being processed by Washington County until late that evening? Why did Marley need to take that first mug shot before he transferred me, a couple hours later?

Besides never being given food or water that first day, the guards never spoke to me about what was happening. I kind of remember being told several times by the extremely unfriendly Washington County Sheriff Deputies, “sit up straight!” But they never said anything else to me.

Pretty much, that whole first day in the jail is still a blurry spot in my memory. I was in this kind of state of psychological shock not believing what was happening, and thinking someone would come along any minute and straighten it all out, and I would go home, but no one ever did.

I spent about ten or twelve hours in one or another of those uncomfortable plastic chairs you find in the bus station, waiting to be “processed”, they said. None of it seemed real; time seemed meaningless.

Apparently, an inmate had come around with a cart and handed out bags of food and drinks for lunch and dinner, but didn’t know I was blind and so assumed I didn’t want anything since I didn’t raise my hand, like everyone else. Although, as I think back, the fact that I was wearing the dark glasses would seem like a pretty good clue, I suppose, but maybe not since I’ve been told I’m not blind because I move my head around to listen to what’s being said.

But it does prove how very little Marley, Oaes, or the Washington County Deputies cared about making sure a person who was completely blind, partially deaf, and under their custody had something to eat or drink. And it does prove how little they care about any of the people under their scope and control, like Madaline.

I learned later, a few inmates were selected to be trusties. This way, they were allowed out of their cells for a few hours each day and assigned to pass out meals. If they wanted to keep this privilege, they were specifically instructed to never fraternize with any other inmates while working (for no pay).

If I had my white cane with me, the trusties would have known I was blind and made sure I got something to eat. This would have never happened — being denied food or water all day.

And since wheelchair users were allowed to keep their chairs, it seems discriminatory to have taken away my mobility device since it place me at an even greater risk of being injured or assaulted for accidentally bumping into another inmate.

And wearing the dark glasses, they let me keep, may have only infuriated some of the inmates who may not have realized I was blind.

Yet both “my” attorney and two circuit judges, along with the prosecutors, ignored my petition for habeas corpus, as I describe below.

By taking away my white cane, along with not allowing me to verbally communicate with any of the other inmates, they violated my civil rights as a blind person who was also partially deaf, and failed to exercise any sort of due care with regard to my health and safety.

So, if you can try to imagine going through all of this as a blind person, with a significant hearing loss, you would have to agree that it would be both extremely traumatic and intimidating.

I believe this is all part of a ‘vast conspiracy’ to coerce all poor accused defendants to accept the persecutors dirty plea deals, even if a few “undesirable” inmates, like Madaline, have to die to keep the machine running.

I remember one thing that really freaked me out about the deputies, and made me wonder if I would ever leave that place alive.

When I was about fourteen or fifteen and living in Lansing, I learned the hard way to never trust the police. Bill Bonsky, a friend of my brother’s, and I were walking back on campus from the convenience store across from the school for the blind. After going in the store, we had been hanging out with some other students outside of the store, who happened to be black. Some cop stopped us in the parking lot behind the school cafeteria and ordered us to allow him to searched us, without a warrant or probable cause. We didn’t say anything, just let him search.

We were definitely on school property, so he probably should have called the campus security, who knew both of us, before conducting a search. Bonsky looked older. But I was clearly a minor, and the cop knew it.

The cop claimed he saw us getting drugs from “Those black guys”, as he put it. It was another partly blind student named Lee McDonald, Willie Jones, and Willie Brown, who I wrote about in the first chapter.

Lee was around seventeen and stood about six-foot-five, maybe six-foot-six. He was solid muscle, and you could almost feel the ground shake when he laughed, which he did a lot.

Other than maybe Barry White, no one had a deeper voice than Lee McDonald.

Like a lot of guys who were blind, he had this way of leaning into you when he spoke. And then he would gently tap you on the shoulder or arm with his knuckles the whole time, while he was talking. And if he was real excited about something, he would instead start tapping the top of your head with his knuckles…gently, while he was explaining and laughing.

I was barely five foot tall and weighed less than ninety pounds. And it was kind of like looking back at this massive mountain that was towering over me. He actually sometimes blocked the sun when he stood next to me. I noticed because sometimes it was cold in Michigan.

However, as everyone who knows Lee knows, Lee McDonald was one of the friendliest, most joking, kids around the school, and one of our best athletes, lettering several times in both wrestling and track and field during the 1970’s.

I’m pretty sure Lee holds the all-time school record in the men’s restricted high jump, and maybe in the restricted sot put. McDonald, along with Ed Chapman, also held the school record in the tandem mile, at least for awhile.

This one time during track practice, when I was still wrestling at 88 lbs. and Lee McDonald was wrestling light heavy weight, he had me stand in front of the high jump bar and then jumped right over the top of me. Everyone who was watching thought that was so funny, except maybe me. I kind of freaked out at first, Looking up and seeing this mountain flying over.

But to this cop he was just another black drug dealer. preying on this little white kid.

So if you didn’t know him, and you were a paranoid cop, maybe his behavior and appearance would come across like he was some sort of “street thug” who was literally pushing drugs to some little white kid from the blind school outside the local convenience store. Like I said, he would lean over a person and tap their head when ever he was talking.

So maybe the cop thought he was going to be the hero that evening, and rescue the little white boy. Or maybe the cop just had a thing for young white boys with pretty blue eyes? He never searched Bonsky that way, sticking his hand down my underwear and feeling around.

But after all, it was Lansing, Michigan, who allowed a mob to murder Earl Little, father of Melcom X, and we were just a few blocks from the capitol building and the governor’s mansion.

Bonsky and I both told the cop “They [Lee McDonald and Willie Jones] didn’t give us anything!” And the cop never found anything!

But cops only hear what they want to hear, and to them everything else is a lie.

So this pervert cop made me unbutton and unzip my pants, and like most kids I did what I was told by the adult. Then all the sudden he plunged his hand down my pants and started groping my dick and balls, pretending he was looking for drugs. I freaked out…but couldn’t say anything!

Like I said, he didn’t find anything. But what really pissed me off about this, was that I was too dumb or scared at the time to realize I had just been sexually assaulted by a sick cop! Bonsky said he saw everything, but I didn’t have the courage to tell anyone else.

I was suddenly awaken late that afternoon from this sort of trance I was in, when I heard the news come on. All day the television was too low for me to hear, and they answered no in a way that made me never think about asking again when I once asked if they could turn up the volume.

But I remember being startled wide-awake that day when the evening news came on the television and they turned up the sound so loud that it was blasting from across the room. Despite my hearing loss, I could hear every word being spoken. And it scared the hell out of me!

The first thing I thought was that they would say my name aloud and show my picture on the evening news, and then everyone in the room would immediately assume the worst of me, being an accused “child molester”. Let me tell you, it was a frightening moment. As I waited, I could hardly breathe.

I imagined someone behind me, seeing the news and thinking to himself:

“I see you, sitting there hiding behind your shades, looking all cool and smug. But I know what you did motherfucker, and I’m gonna make you pay for it motherfucker!”

I believe suddenly turning up the television really loud when the evening news comes on is just another intentional way to intimidate Washington County’s poor and disabled accused defendants into agreeing to an unjust plea bargain.

I suppose, every inmate was probably thinking the same thing as me, in horror. Especially since it had been so quiet all day, then all at once, as if to intentionally traumatize our subconscious, a loud speaker began blaring random announcements about the latest alleged criminals who have been arrested in Washington County! It seems pretty reckless for the deputies to expose an inmate who is being featured on the ruthless, corporate news to any possible righteous vigilantes who may be among us.

Sometime that evening during the news, I heard Several of the deputies joking aloud about some former-inmate named Rick that apparently they all knew very well. According to the news broadcaster Rick was found dead that morning. While I don’t remember hearing exactly how he died, I do remember the deputies thought it was really funny that he was dead.

Some time later that night one of the nurses gave me something for my headache and a glass of water. But that was the first time that I had had any water since the night before. I asked when we would be taken to the cafeteria for dinner since I was starting to get really hungry, and she kind of laughed, and said she would see what she could do about eating.

It wasn’t until some time around 11:00 p.m., after I got a shower, a rectal search, and a set of orange jumpers to wear, before I ate anything. I remember I was handed a sack lunch just before being taken away to a cell in Bob Hermann’s Isolation Dungeon, even though I did nothing wrong, and had not been convicted of anything.

In Elisa Roth’s excellent book about America’s mistreatment of those with mental disabilities in the criminal injustice system, “Insane”, she wrote”In September 2017 Colorado took it a step further by ending the use of longterm solitary confinement, the only state to do soFifteen days is the longest a prisoner will be held in solitary confinement. And then only for serious charges, such as assault.”

But I did everything I was told, but they put me in isolation anyway. Was it because I am blind and they assumed I was crazy. As this book documents, the State of Oregon has a long history of abusing people with disabilities, or those who are perceived to have a mental disability?

In Elie Mystal’s book on the history of America’s injustice system, “Let Me Retort: A Black Guys Guide to the Constitution”, he offers his perspective from an angry black man about using isolation as punishment, against anybody. Mystal writes, “Some form of isolation has been viewed as a fairly standard and appropriate form of punishment, since forever. But now because of our modern understanding of human psychology, studies show solitary confinement is especially cruel. It’s torture for your brain.”

In this call to action Mystal goes on to say, “And we are the ones who have the option of making cruel punishment, like solitary confinement, unconstitutional. To not do so, is the promogation of evil, hiding behind the banality of cowardness.

I suspect Glenn Howard and the cowards of the Washington County Jail tries to intentionally stress out everyone they arrest as much as possible, who can’t afford bail. And they do this on behalf of the county’s DA to get them to take a plea bargain rather then forcing the county prosecutors to prove their embellished charges in every case, as it should be. Plea bargains ought to be illegal, since there unconstitutional because this practice obviously coerces indigent defendants.

An indigent person is almost always over charged by the prosecutor, even though there is no chance they can win their case. Then the defendant is offered a plea bargain with slightly reduced charges that are usually the best the prosecutor could have ever won in an actual trial.

Plea bargains are also about getting more money to keep the conveyor belt for the poor running, because rich people hardly ever go to jail, even for murder. The State usually pays for the incarceration, although the federal government reimburses the states for much of the cost.

However, when an indigent defendant signs a plea bargain, even if they can’t read it and has no one trustworthy to read or interpret it, they are forced to pay for the cost of probation. Despite being severely disabled and on Social Security, I was forced to pay thousands of dollars for supervised probation, “counseling,” and polygraphers. That doesn’t include the money the State of Oregon is still trying to collect for being put on this death list for life.

There’s several problems with this sort of thinking. First, plea bargains are considered convictions by the State, even though the defendant never got to face their accuser or accusers. And the accused never got to confront the evidence against them, which is presumably a constitutional right. Nevertheless, they are considered “convicted of a crime,” even though they were never tried and convicted.

Plea bargains are far worse than convictions, because with a conviction there is at least a transcript from a trial to appeal. Many incarcerated people have won their appeals by reviewing these transcripts and finding errors for themselves and other inmates. In fact, jail house lawyers specialize in one area of law, the court opinions involving appeals in criminal cases.

When there is a trial, there is always lots of legal grounds to file an appeal based on the errors or prejudice of the court, police, and prosecutors. Although winning an appeal without good private lawyers or lawyers from the Innocence Project is very rare. This is true even if there is clear evidence of wrong doing by the State or the facts are clearly in the indigent client’s favor. In law, truth rarely matters.

Finally, when the accused signs a plea bargain and newly discovered exculpatory evidence is found (that was hidden by either the police or persecutors), the court will not grant relief. In other words, Marley’s letter from Christel is irrelevant since I signed a plea bargain (under duress).

The ACLU used to take criminal cases from indigent clients to fight against the overwhelming power of the government and the criminal injustice system. But now the ACLU, as well as the ADL and SZLC almost only represent transgender people. Not against the corporations, who are poisoning them, and the government that is protecting the corporations. Rather, to fight for their right to pretend to be whatever they want to be (and not sue the corporations responsible).

In the past, I would have argued that the public defender is massively outgunned by the prosecutors and can never provide effective council, another presumed constitutional right, but it no longer matters. In 2023, the Supreme Court ordered that two indigent defendants on death row who did not receive effective representations from their court appointed attorneys didn’t matter, because the court said “they were guilty anyway, based on the other facts in the case.” But if the reader examines either of these cases, it’s obvious the defendants were not provided effective council since there lawyers made clear irreversible errors on their behalf. However, the Court decided these errors were inconsequential, even though they clearly were consequential since the defendants were scheduled to be executed.

The public defenders are substantially outmatched, not only with resources and money, but the mere fact the police in Oregon could torture a blind-deaf guy, like me, in this special set aside area called the “Isolation Dungeon,” and no one knows or cares.

The reader shouldn’t be surprised by this. In 2024, we learned from award-winning Jewish historian Ron Unz that there were no gas chambers anywhere in territory controlled by Nazis, yet under a Jewish Attorney General America and the State of Alabama executed a man to death using nitrogen gas, Kenneth Eugene Smith. Witnesses said he suffered extreme pain before he died, ten minutes later. Clearly, there is no justice in our injustice system for the poor, and it makes no difference whether there is a Democrat or Republican in the White House.

In Elisa Roth’s 2018 book about the criminal injustice system, she wrote, “Placing prisoners in isolation cells has been a feature of the modern American penal system since its inseption in the early Nineteenth Centry. The original idea, developed at Philadelphia’s Eastern State Penatentury, was to cut the prisoner off from all human relationships so that he might focus his attentions inward and rehabilitate himself.”

Along with placing me in isolation, they intentionally created this ugly mug shot. But they do this to every accused defendant then use it to embarrass the accused defendant on the evening news.

For example, some friend of KBOO’s Lisa Loving, whose local magazine features the mug shots of people not yet convicted of a crime, is portrayed by Loving as some kind of hero. Of course, publishing the mugs shots would obviously prejudice many of those who would be among the county’s prospective jury pool. The cops could also use the ugly mug shot again later, if needed, by showing it to the vindictive neighbors.

Along with a couple other inmates, I was eventually walked out of the main waiting room where I had been all day and felt kind of relieved. I had no idea I was being taken to the jail’s most isolated area located off the medical unit, called the “isolation bubble”. Where there would be no fresh air, and no opportunity to exercise, and almost no opportunity to be with any other people. I was being put into solitary confinement, even though I didn’t know it at the time.

Make no mistake, I broke absolutely no rules to justify this punishment. I did everything I was told, but not ever again.

The county did not seek out a qualified expert to advise them as to how an accused defendant who was completely blind, with a substantial hearing impairment, would react under these horrific circumstances. Or maybe they knew exactly how it would effect me and my constitutional right to assist in my own defense, and didn’t care.

But even my own fake lawyer, Gregory Sholl, cared nothing, telling his assistant to never answer the phone when I called from the jail, and ignoring almost all of my voice messages.

Based on the well-documented history of Bob Hermann and his DDA’s attitude toward those with disabilities, apparently having any sort of “defect” was a crime enough to justify what they did to me, and what they’ve done to many, many other indigent defendants in Washington County.

Every year the legislature puts a tiny band-aid on what is a bleeding artery in are injustice system. The George Floyd’s protests weren’t about George Floyd, but about a system that cheats poor people out of a fair chance every way it can.

Maybe they thought they were protecting me from other inmates, based on an incident that occurred when I first arrived.

I recall, when I was first brought into a small room off the main jail by Detective Marley, where they made me empty my pockets and hand over my belt and shoes, I asked to use the bathroom.

The guard made me leave the door open, and when I sat down to urinate I heard one of the deputies who walked by the open door say, “Looks like we got us another one of those.” Then I heard another deputy, the one who had led me to the bathroom, chuckle.

So maybe that’s why they locked me up in solitary, so that none of the other inmates would be able to hurt someone they thought was a “gay” guy who is blind?

For the first couple weeks – for over twenty-three and one half hours per day – I was kept alone in a 8-by-5 foot cement room in the lock-down, “Isolation Bubble”. This five cell area is apparently where they were supposed to be keeping the severely mentally ill and the ones they thought were extremely dangerous, and anyone coming down off hard drugs, like Madaline Pitkin.

While I had used marijuana, medically, most of my life, I had only occasionally used any kind of “hard drugs”, and it had been many years ago.

However, using medical marijuana may have been their excuse for putting me into ‘Bob Hermann’s Dungeon’. It is well known among the MMJ community, I moved to Oregon in 1998 to specifically campaigned for the reform of medical marijuana laws.

So, some days I never got a minute out of the cell, and a few of those days I got no more than ten or fifteen minutes out.

“Would you rather take a shower or make a phone call?” They would ask.

The “isolation dungeon”, as I began calling it, was segregated by a thick metal door from the general Medical Unit. All of the cells also had thick metal doors and faced each other. When the doors would slam in succession it sounded like something out of that opening scene from that old television show, “Get Smart”-

As by design, the cement walls and floors made every sound echo and reverberate, exponentially. What turned out to be the worse, was that the stainless steel toilets were connected through the wall and were perfect targets for kicking.

The screaming and pounding never stopped. When one crazed inmate would fall asleep after eight or ten hours of yelling and pounding, on the wall, door, and toilet, another would start up. And when I asked the guards if they would please make them stop, they would say, ‘We’re doing something about it’ or they would ignore me, or in one case, tell me to just, “shut up!”

I did not learn until May of 2007, when they arrested me again for an alleged ‘probation violation’, ironically just three days prior to my custody trial, that the Washington County Jail had a ‘Special Needs Pod’ [Pod 7].

It’s very possible the special needs pod was not created until after my original incarceration in 2005. Which means they knew they had discriminated against me.

I was very outspoken to my assigned therapist, Johneen Manno-Verbeck, and others about what I felt was an extremely abusive experience, especially for a person who was severely disabled and presumably ‘innocent until proven guilty’.

If they created an entire “special needs pod” based on my letters, and my statements to Johneen and my PO (probation officer), this meant they knew that they had mistreated me in their effort to obtain a coerced plea bargain rather than taking the case to trial.

I knew after 2007, having access to fresh air and an exercise area, along with spending the day around other inmates with disabilities, who make up almost half of Oregon’s incarcerated population, would have made a big difference.

I can say without doubt I would have never agreed to any sort of plea bargain for my role in what actually happened that would have made me a convicted felon, and a registered sex offender, for life!

While in the isolation dungeon in 2005, I asked several of the guards if I could possibly have a small portable radio or my talking book machine to help distract from the growing madness I was feeling. I was told no by the pod’s commanding officer, an African-American man named Sergeant Brown, although other inmates were able to sort of watch television from their cells, and there was a full rack of printed books available which they could choose a book and take it back into their cell to read.

Not even my requests for a Braille bible to the three chaplains I met was ever granted, despite their repeated promises. After that, I focused on prayer and meditation and gave up talking to any of the chaplains, who seen to visit the jail every day, but I don’t know why they came.

The courts have said, one of the most basic rights one has while being incarcerated is the right to read and write. They may limit what you read, and stop you from sharing your writings, like in the case of Chelsea Manning, but just the act of being able to read the thoughts of others and express one’s own thoughts and feelings in writing is a fundamental part of being human, and feeling alive.

Clearly, being able to read or write anything, would have helped me to focus on my legal dilemma, and able to assist in my own defense. Presumably, a constitutional right in America for anyone who is determined to have mental capacity and who is charged with a crime…but which America was I now in, I began to ask myself.

Here’s another reason why I feel the public defender was probably assisting in the prosecution, rather than defending me from these well-placed thugs, and who I believe are the real ones perverting our legal system.

Gregory Scholl could have argued that his office, which has a constitutional obligation, presumably, to defend every indigent client, who requests help, when accused of a felony, is simply not being given the resources by the state to meet it’s legal obligation to their clients.

He could have argued, if he wanted to, “My client has a degree in both pre-law and political science from Georgia State University. He graduated with honors. This certified letter from last November to Robert Hermann and Dennis Marley clearly documents that he is qualified, and capable, of assisting in his own defense, given an opportunity.”

He could have went on to say, “And only by having access to his adaptive technology will my client be able to assist in his own defense. This adaptive equipment is located in his home in Lake Oswego. So simply by placing an ankle bracelet on my client, surely the state would be capable of monitoring the movements and protecting the public safety from someone who is completely 100% blind. Not to mention, my client is also partially deaf!”

But “my lawyer” never made any of these arguments on behalf of his client, just stood there and mumbled like a well-trained obese monkey..

Maybe that’s why the State picked him to misrepresent Jeremy Christian. During the closing arguments in the MAX stabbing case, thanks to Rosemary Reynolds I got to listened to this same moron mumbling away, and it infuriated me.

But would if some of the Public Defenders are also being paid secretly, under the table, by the billionaires and trillionaires, who control the Deep State, to throw certain cases, like we know the Mocking Bird Media is?

From the time humans began gathering in small groups and living in shelters, and began to care for each other, it was common knowledge that providing some fresh air to a member of the clan who was feeling ill often helped speed up their recovery. Yet, those who are locked into the Medical Observation Unit or isolation bubble of the Washington County Jail are never given any fresh air or sunshine, unlike the inmates in the general population which has a small outside area for each pod.

Apparently, Bob Hermann, Pat Garrett or the former-Sheriff, Rob Gordon, never watched or read the story about the young Swiss girl, Heidi, who could barely walk. That is, until she was brought to the Swiss Alps and healed by the fresh mountain air.

Rather than being taking to the hospital, as she should have been, one day before she died, 26-year-old Madaline Pitkin was ironically moved into what I believe was the exact same cell in the isolation dungeon where I was first put by one of the indifferent Washington County deputy drones, “cell 21”.

Would Madaline be alive today if she had been able to get some fresh air and fresh water while she was withdrawing from heroin? I don’t know–

What I’m sure the county lawyers know now, is that during the last nine days of her life Madaline Pitkin needed to be put into a hospital, receiving fluids, intravenously, and not locked into the isolation dungeon, where they conveniently didn’t have to watch her die, or didn’t have to watch me being tortured.

The small enclosed yards are the only contact that many of the accused defendants will have with the outside world. While in these exercise areas, which are about ten-by-fifteen foot spaces, inmates often walk around the outside edge dozens and dozens and dozens of times, for exercise. While other inmates gather in the center of the small cemented area, talking and breathing deeply, staring at the sky and trying to catch a glimpse of the sun.

I was told the high walls and razer wire made this almost impossible, except for on the sunniest days when a radical ray of sunshine was able to slip past the dutiful deputies and find its way to one of the desperate, vitamin D depleted dangerous political prisoners.

Yet, curiously, the general medical unit provided no access to fresh air to those who needed it the most.

But here’s the real tragedy in Madaline’s death. In a federal decision from 1970 (Sinclair v. Henderson) the courts already decided this issue. In that case, Billy Wayne Sinclair, a jail house lawyer on death row in Louisiana, argued that prisoners on death row had a right to fresh air and an outdoor exercise area, like other inmates.

Sinclair was one of 409 inmates who had their death penalty vacated in 1972 by the Supreme Court, who ruled that the death penalty was unconstitutional. He killed a store clerk during a botched robbery in 1965. Unfortunately for Sinclair, he killed a popular former Louisiana high school football player, and the clerk’s teammates and family made sure Sinclair would spend the next forty years behind bars. Despite his complete remorse for the killing, and despite that he was considered to be one of the most reformed prisoners in the state, his parole was denied six times.

But what was a bigger problem for Sinclair was that, like me, he was a prolific whistleblower. In his autobiography, “A Life in the Balance”, Sinclair and his wife, Jody, tell how prison officials put a contract on him after he uncovered a “pay for parole” scandal that included the Louisiana governor, Edmond Edwards. Inmates had to pay $20,000 to be paroled. Twenty-two inmates took the offer, and only one didn’t.

As a result, the Pardons and Parole Board of Louisiana made sure Sinclair was not released until 2005. Sounds kind of like the Oregon Board of Pardons and Parole, doesn’t it?

So, why didn’t Washington County have to provide this same accommodation to people who were locked up in the Medical Unit, since the other inmates had an outdoor exercise area? If there were no outdoor area for anybody, then they could argue, “There isn’t enough space here at the Washington County Jail. But, if we ever build a new jail–”

This is because the Presiding Judge, Charlie Bailey, and most of the rest of the circuit judges from Washington County were recklessly indifferent to our suffering.

This included Circuit Judge Susan Upton, the wife of the Clackamas County DA, John Foote. And now maybe you’ll understand the conspiracy that took place in my persecution, and why. Judge Upton had to protect Clackamas County and Marylhurst University, and the Catholic Church, at all cost.

But we’ll talk about Mt. Angel and what was going on there in the next chapter, when I tell the reader about Libby Rascon and Kim Cooley.

The Isolation dungeon was worse than the general medical unit since the extra metal door made the air even more stale and harder to breathe. This was especially true during the colder months, when these particular cells, which were the most isolated, filled with a strong odor of chimney smoke from the neighborhood, causing most of the inmates to sleep with wool blankets pulled over their faces.

Unlike the general population, all of the inmates in the medical unit were almost always forced to eat in their cells, where there were no tables or chairs.

As a blind person, this made eating almost impossible. If you’re severely visually-impaired, you need both hands to eat. By holding the plastic spork with one hand we use the other hand, or a piece of bread if you have one, to guide the food into it. So rather than eating with your hands or just eating the food dropped on the floor, which was disgustingly dirty, often, i ended up laying on my stomach on the cement floor to eat.

This is when I realized the floor was covered with a layer of dirt and some sort of sticky stuff that I probably didn’t want to identify.

My request for cleaning materials was denied. I was told by Sergeant Brown that the Washington County Jail felt it wouldn’t be safe to let me clean my own cell, apparently because of my blindness.

I was told later by several inmates that Sergeant Brown was another black racist who hated straight, white men. I knew this was probably true because of how he treated me. Black people with power, like Freddie Groomes and Lou Tutt, often proved this is true by their inaction, when a white man with a disability asks them for or needs their help.

Apparently they were video ttaping me while I was in jail for the shrinks and wanted my cell to appear as dirty as possible. In other words, this racist, bigotted cop, Sergeant Brown, wanted to make sure anyone who ever watch this video would see me as a filthy animal that didn’t mind living in dirt. The little monkeys in orange suits are forced to perform for the elite. As I said, it’s all about perception, Johneen.

No one else, including a housekeeper or any maid, ever came to clean my cell, as Sergeant Brown ordered. Unless I wanted to use my only towel or the clothes I wore as cleaning rags, I was forced to live under these unhealthy conditions for almost two weeks.

Then I found out a month later from my last cell mate, Thornburg, that they always gave cleaning supplies to other inmates who weren’t blind. I was outraged by this blatant bigotry, but not surprised.
You see, I was encouraged as a boy from an early age to sit when I urinate, rather than spraying the bathroom with my urine, and marking my territory. So rather than having to constantly clean up the mess, as I was made to do, I decided long ago sitting down, like a girl, wasn’t so bad!

Since there were no toilet seats on the toilets that could be raised, its obvious the last inmate didn’t usually need to sit and probably cared nothing about missing the bowl, so my toilet was especially filthy…that is, until I agreed to take their coerced plea bargain. Then suddenly, everything changed, including Sergeant Brown.

In her book Roth wrote, “As one civil rights attorney put it, once you start to dehumanize people in this way there are no limits. And there is no sense of obligation toward them.”

This was never more true then in the case of Darren Rainey from Florida, who in 2012 was intentionally cooked to death by prison guards. He was a mentally disabled man who became severely ill from being locked up, so he began wiping shit on the walls and all over his body. To punish him, the guards placed him in a make-shift shower that was locked from the outside and designed to punish uncooperative inmates.

Even though regulations state that no shower can be more than 120 degrees, the prison guards kept this particular shower’s hot water at 160 degrees.

Rainey was forced into the shower and was locked in for more than two hours. When he was taken out he was dead and it was reported by witnesses that his skin fell off his bones like “those fruit roll ups candies.”

This was clearly First Degree Murder. Since the shower was constructed to torture mentally ill inmates, and they left him in the shower for over two hours, it was obviously premeditated murder. Yet despite all this overwhelming evidence, neither the supervisors or guards were ever charged with a crime by the State of Florida.

It’s true, prison guards aren’t paid very well, considering the shit they have to put up with. If the states began holding them accountable for abusing volnerable people no one would ever take the job, except the worst of the worst. In fact, prison guards or deputies are rarely ever charged with any crime anywhere in America for abusing disabled inmates, even though it has been repeatedly documented that they often kill or injure inmates for no reason, other than their own sadistic pleasure.

Especially if an inmate has a physical or mental disability. Acording to Roth, more than half of people incarcerated have a disability and one forth of all police shootings involves people with disabilities.

Referring to Rainey’s killing, Roth wrote, “Correction officials are quick to suggest that such cases are rare. Talk to prisoners though, or people who have formally been incarcerated, and abuse is the norm.”

I’ve never been the same after those first eleven or twelve days in Washington County’s isolation dungeon. After about two or three days the continuous screaming and pounding coming from the cell next to mine and across the way began to make me feel like I was going crazy, just as they planned. I realize now, I was beginning to suffer from symptoms of PTSD.

Roth also wrote, “In the Twenty-first Century these devastating consequences has been documented with clinical precision. For example, extreme isolation may exacerbate or or cause symptoms of psychosis, such as hallucination, paranoia, sleeplessness, and self-harm. Half of all suicides occur in solitary confinement.”

“Only soldiers can get PTSD,” according to this idiot persecutor from Lane County, District Attorney Alan Gardner, who refused to prosecute a veteran for shooting up downtown Eugene. Apparently, Gardner believes you can’t get PTSD from rape or assault, or what I was forced to endure at the hands of this racist cop, Sergeant Brown.

I know this is what happened to me, because after being released I would jump at even the slightest loud noise, and would sometimes begin to shake or tremble for no reason. I found the marijuana has especially helped with this particular symptom of PTSD.

I have also discovered all sorts of little things, called triggers, would immediately get me into this fight or flight response, and I would sometimes go into a fit of rage over nothing. Of course, you only realize this after the fact.

Unfortunately, the treatment program I was forced to attend for almost two years was never intended to deal with any of these symptoms, which I realize now only made my condition worse.

So, by the end of the first week, I was starting to really lose it since I couldn’t ever sleep for more than a couple hours at a time, which made it impossible to think straight. What was happening was nothing like I had experienced before.

I had a couple “all-nighters” in college, working on a paper, but this was a whole different world — a world of intentionally induced, total madness.

I thought, one of the most basic rights in our American justice system is allowing every American to assist in their own defense, if at all possible. yet, as it seemed to be the intent of the Washington County Jail and the county prosecutors, I couldn’t think or focus any more on my situation, and how best to describe my side of the story. which was a very, very different story than Bob Hermann and Greg Olson were telling–

(See: “3 Americas, A pearl Necklace for Christmas”)

The only time in my life I had ever been in a jail, before this, was when I was nineteen. I remember, Tennessee John and me were leaving a minor league baseball game in Jacksonville, Florida, on a warm summer night. The team had won big, I remember that, so we were feeling pretty good.

I was holding on to John’s elbow because of my night blindness. Back then, I still had a little bit of what they called shadow vision, except at night, when I was completely blind.

When we got to the parking lot these two guys started heckling us, calling us “queers!” John, shook off my hand and headed toward one of them. He began yelling back at him, a moment later, the other guy, Scot something, who probably didn’t know I was blind, sucker-punched me square in the face!

Because of my many years of wrestling, I recovered quickly. A few seconds later, this guy, who was about a foot taller than me, ended up laying flat on his face, where I was holding him down, when the police showed up.

They proceeded to arrest John and me. And as usual, never bothered to ask how the fight got started. Just took the word of the girlfriend, who was talking hysterically.

Tennessee John and me ended up only spending a few hours in the “drunk” tank before we were released. When I appeared in court, I was told by a Jacksonville Judge my record would be completely expunged if I stayed out of trouble for the next ninety days, which I did.

Yet, the Washington County Public Pretender allowed the persecutors, and the court, to use this “previous conviction” against me in determining the final sentencing, as ‘provided for in the state guidelines’, he explained.

I slowly learn that this, along with almost everything else “my attorney” told me was a lie.

Even the Measure 11 Offense they filed against me was willfully misconstrued, and applied inappropriately in my case based on the facts. As like in almost cases involving the poor and under-educated, this was done to get me to both take a plea bargain that would include a class C felony and to substantially increase the unreasonable bail they demanded — a quarter of a million dollars!

I didn’t fully understand until two years later, when they arrested me on an alleged PV violation just three days prior to my custody trial in Eugene, that cost me my son.

The entire prosecution was a well-arranged “modern lynching” — a theatrical performance for the dumb blind guy who had been seriously misled about our American justice system, not to mention the anxious vigilantes (Many of whom I would be lucky enough to soon meet since I was no longer eligible to live in any sort of subsidized housing for the severely disabled).

Despite my written request, Scot Emerson and the Oregon BAR wouldn’t even bother to take a few minutes to investigate my allegation of Scholl’s obvious complicity in what they did to me, and are still doing to me–

Scholl, Marley, Olson and Heard all played me like a complete blind sucker, ironically, much like the Chicago mobsters played Ray Charles. Despite the inconvenience, Ray out smarted them and began insisting that he be paid for all of his performances in one dollar bills!

It was about four or five days after I was locked up. I was sitting in my cell doing nothing, as I did every minute of every day. The small speaker in the corner beeped, and then I heard a guard said “Your lawyer’s here to see you.” Only problem with this claim, was that he wasn’t my lawyer since I had no money to pay a lawyer.

As I eventually did, by February of 2010, my interests from the beginning would have been far better served by representing myself.

Even though I was placed on probation until February 16th, 2010, a Washington County Assistant District Attorney (and a crooked circuit judge) put out a warrant for me in January of 2010 because of the $860 I still owed.

I was told specifically by more than one probation officer this fee did not have to be paid in full until the date I was scheduled to complete my probation, on February 16th. I was told, being completely released from probation may depend on how much of this “debt” had been paid, and whether or not I had made formal arrangements to pay the remainder.

I had every intentions of meeting my financial obligation in full by the February 16th, 2010 deadline, and not one second sooner.

Little did I know, there is a secret relationship in Washington County between the judiciary and the District Attorneys Office. In fact, no county in Oregon sends more poor people to prison than Washington County. And it’s no coincidence that NIKE and Intell have corporate headquarters in this conservatively corrupt county.

In 2008, I found a pic on the district attorneys web site which showed the former-Chief Justice Paul DeMuniz and Bob Hermann shaking hands (or at least, that’s what the caption said).

Apparently, it appeared as though they were making a deal, of some sort. Intentionally or not, they created the “appearance of impropriety” among those who would be compelled to visit the district attorneys web site. In other words, anyone charged with a crime or called to jury duty in Washington County would be very likely to visit the District Attorneys page and would see that pic.

In 2015, I got a chance to ask the former-Justice, Paul DeMuniz, about this. He appeared on former-City Commissioner Jo Ann Hardesty show on KBOO Community Radio, called “Voices From the Edge.”

During the show he apparently texted somebody. Probably the Washington County District Attorneys Office. Because after I called, a little while later, he said the pic had been posted at the district attorneys web site in 2001.

He added, “But just for a short time.” He went on to say that the pic was taken “while I was a justice on the Court.” But this is only halfway true.

When I saw the pic in 2008 it was specifically labeled”Showing the Chief Justice Paul DeMuniz shaking hands with the District Attorney for Washington County, Robert W. Hermann.”

It is true, he was a justice on the Court beginning in 2001. However, his fellow justices did not select him to be Chief Justice until 2006. In other words, the person from Washington County who told him during the show that the pic was posted in 2001, obviously lied.

DeMuniz acknowledged that he had no idea that the pic was there, but didn’t comment on whether or not he felt the pic showed his deference to this particular prosecutor or his county. Hermann or his office may have posted the chummy pic without DeMuniz knowledge or consent. And it shows what a dirty bastard Bob Hermann really is, and shows he has no respect for no one, not even the chief of the Oregon Supreme Court.

I would argue that poisoning the Washington County jury pool for seven or eight years is a “short time.” But, community leaders know Scumjob Bob is one of the dirtiest prosecutors in Oregon history.

Once Bob Hermann erroneously told a jury that they need not consider whether or not the accused has Aspergers Syndrome, even though the allegation against this man specifically involved his agitated behavior and inability to follow orders. And what makes it worse, the allegation didn’t involve physical violence or a weapon of any sort.

The truth is, by showing the pic bob Hermann wanted to make sure everybody knew that Bob and Paul, the future Republican governor, had a very cosy relationship (in case anyone thought about ever appealing their criminal “convictions”).

DeMuniz stepped down from the court in 2012. In 2015, he was being considered to be the Republican candidate for governor. And in November 2014, DeMuniz was hired by a group of Chicago whacademics who had won a contract to monitor the bullshit Consent Decree between the City of Portland and the Justice Department.

The Consent Decree had been spurred by the brutal murder of James Chasse Jr., a mentally challenged street musician, by three Portland Police officers, including Officer Chris Humphreys. After murdering Chasse, Humphreys went on to be elected the Sheriff of Wheeler County, Oregon.

The police stomped on Chasse for several minutes, breaking more than a dozen ribs, Chasse before arresting him. Then Chasse was loaded into the back of Humphreys patrol car and driven around for ninety minutes by Humphreys and Sergeant Nice Nice, until he died.

Two years later, on the subway Humphreys shot a twelve-year-old African-American girl in the chest with a bean bag rifle. When he was suspended, 650 bigoted Portland Police Officers put on “I am Chris Humphreys” t-shirts and marched down the street in support of Humphreys, who was considered at the time by most citizen reporters, including myself, to be one of the most vicious officers in the history of Portland policing.

I called Jo Ann’s show another time to express my outrage over how these police officers could march through the streets of Portland with these highly offensive t-shirts, in 2015, fifteen minutes later Jo Ann Hardesty said, in response to my call:
“I got an E mail. To that caller who called earlier, those were “Daryl Turner t-shirts, not Chris Humphreys t-shirts.”

It was definitely Chris Humphreys t-shirts, which are shown in the Oregonians article online. This only further confuse Jo Ann’s audience about Humphreys identity. I wondered what asshole sent her this bullshit E mail?

About a year later a regular caller, who clearly had some mental health issues, also named Jo Ann, called her show. after hanging up, Hardesty said, “Why don’t you have another cup of coffee Jo Ann and call me back next week.”

The following week Jo Ann called back in and expressed her anger over being humiliated by Jo Ann Hardesty after she hung up. The caller went on to say she was embarrassed over the public air waves by Jo Ann on what is a community radio station.

In Chapter 11, I describe how it’s not the only time a volunteer embarrassed a member of the community on this “community radio station.”

Hardesty denied saying this, and responded, “I never said that Jo Ann.” But in fact, she did say it, and I heard it. and it made me wonder who City Commissioner Jo Ann Hardesty was really representing? Clearly not the disabled people from the community, as we know from her chummy relationship with Bob Junedeph.

Jo Ann would often call in and say one or two sentences obviously blowing off some steam, and quickly hang up. Commissioner Hardesty was usually understanding, and thanked her for her call.

Some times her comments had nothing to do with the topic at hand, but we, the listeners, understood. It was a kind of therapy for Jo Ann and the regular listeners knew it.

However, Jo Ann, the caller, never called the show again after that incident. I don’t listen to KBOO any more either, but I always wondered what happened to Jo Ann, the caller.

So back to the cabal out of Chicago and their sleazy agreement. First, why would the City of Portland want to hire anybody from Chicago to fix our policing problem, given the level of police violence in that particular city?

The Chicago Police Department converted a space called Homan Square where innocent citizens, usually minorities, were taken and tortured by Chicago police officers until they said what the police wanted. They were led by a dirty cop named John Burge, who has been linked to the Sandra Bland murder by Chicago activists.

Bland, an activist from Chicago, was starting school in Texas when she was dragged from her car for making an illegal turn. Apparently a Texas police officer recognized her from the pic Burge sent. She was arrested, and two days later she was found hanging in her cell under suspicious circumstances, similar to Jeff Epstein’s alleged suicide.

Unfortunately for the disabled community, the Chicago group was led by a gender-impaired professor named Dennis Rosenbaum. Over the next several years, with DeMuniz’s help, he would make sure the settlement agreement was sabotaged, despite it’s original stated intent — to help the disabled community deal with the police.

And with Bob Junedeph, with Disability Rights Oregon (dro), in their back pocket, and only one person out there from the disability community raising serious questions about the agreement, well, it’s no wonder they’re still torturing me.

Around 2010 I joined DRO’s online community under the name “OregonsCorruptMedia”, but hadn’t posted anything to my account. Later that day, DRO posted the following message to their twitter account:
“Shaving your mustache isn’t volunteering.”

This seemed odd since I had just shaved my mustache two days earlier. And I had also just been let go from a volunteer position at a soup kitchen in Clackamas County.

For no apparent reason, I was suddenly let go from my volunteer job. It was about a week before DRO’s message was posted.

I helped an elderly couple from a local church prepare a spaghetti dinner for the houseless community every Wednesday evening. I had about ten years in kitchen experience, washing dishes and prepping food, so I wanted to volunteer my services. But I always wondered why they let me go, and how DRO seemed to know about it.

So I surmised from this post that Bob Junedeph and DRO were definitely in the pockets of the Deep State, that is promoting drugging and mutilating children, and mandating experimental vaccines for everyone. The neo-liberals are intentionally creating this chaos and discord in our society, with the help of the media and fake organizations like DRO, who help only those who are woke.

Maybe the gender confused community (LBGTQIA+ Community) does not like to consider themselves disabled. And that’s probably why they especially don’t like outspoken people with disabilities, like me, who don’t support any of this extreme neo-liberal crap.

Meanwhile, Roberts, Gorsuch and their corporate criminal friends have a lot to lose. And you can bet those damages will be in the tens, if not hundreds, of trillions of dollars when this is all sorted out. I would argue the wealthy have much to lose. and maybe that’s why they don’t want to admit their products are responsible, so they get their corporate shills, John Roberts and Neil Gorsuch, to hide the truth about the cause of their gender impairment (and kiss their corporate ass, until its too late and we’re all gender-impaired, mind-controlled zombees).

With all due respect to Gretta Thunberg, and what she may believe, I suspect, putting poisons in the body will kill us long before global warming ever does. It’s just another distraction from what the rich and powerful are doing, getting us (the goydumb) to chase our tails round and round and round and round until we’re dead.

Despite the number of medical and technical advances, we are also seeing a rise in cancer, autism, and leukemia. What is the common thread? Could it be perhaps the chemicals being poured into our environment?

Meanwhile, here in third America the Injustice Department gives us these bullshit Consent Decrees, that mean nothing. And do absolutely nothing…except waste our precious time on earth.

The question being asked by everyone in Portland when we were given this bullshit Decree was, why weren’t people of color included in our formal Consent Decree. Even if you wanted to help people with mental disabilities, having other groups, like people of color who are experienced in dealing with the deceitfulness of the police, such as Jo Ann Hardesty and Reveran Wright, would have made more sense. But that’s not what U.S. Attorney Amanda Marshall and Judge Michael Simon did.

At the time, there had already been at least two dozen suspicious killings in the Portland area in the last ten years by the police of unarmed citizens of color, not including blacks who were in custody at the time of their deaths.

This is happening to far to many poor people across America, being killed by the police and the correction officers, who correct nobody. Who curiously, are almost always found to have done absolutely nothing wrong except to have followed their training. It’s a complete break down of our legal system, and it has to change if we’re to have a actual democracy. We need to take back our legal system from the wealthy and well-connected, and return it to the people.

The horrific killing of Fouad Kaady, who was completely naked and obviously unarmed when he was shot to death by Officer Willie Burgen of the Sandy Police Department and Clackamas County Deputy David Willard. Yet these cops were never indicted for the crime, even though the evidence in the case prove it was nothing less than cold blooded murder.

But make no mistake, they killed Kaady because he was a dark-skinned Arab man, and naked, and apparently they had to protect the women of Clackamas County from “the creep”. Although if she could, Charlotte Grahm would probably tell you that the men who work at the Clackamas County Sheriff Department are the ones women should fear the most.

It didn’t matter what the circumstances were, in their dirty little minds, “naked guy” as they called him on the police radio (and his “enormous manhood”) had to be put down immediately.

As a young, aspiring Arab-American, Kaady was enrolled in the local junior college with big plans for the future. His car had run out of gas, so he borrowed his mom’s car and was on his way back with a can of fuel, when he lit a cigarette. He carelessly ignited the gasoline and set the car on fire.

Half out of his mind, he ripped off his burning clothes and started walking, and eventually sat down on the side of the road. When Deputy Willard and Officer Burgen found him, they ordered him to lay down on the hot pavement. Kaady ignored them, and just continued to sit there and say nothing. Witnesses said he looked like he was in a “deep trance”.

When the paramedics arrived, they were not allowed to treat Kaady and care for his injuries, as police continued to bark orders.

Then, to the horror of witnesses, the police began tasering the injred man.

Imagining he was being attacked by monsters, which wasn’t far from the truth, Kaady suddenly got up and ran to the nearest vehicle and climbed on its roof for protection. Unfortunately, it happened to be a patrol car, which conveniently had a shotgun left on its hood, as if it were some kind of bait.

As I said, Kaady climbed on the roof of the patrol car, but didn’t reach for the gun. According to witnesses, as the officers approached he began screaming, incoherently. Despite posing no immediate threat to the officers, for no clear reason Deputy Willard gave the verbal command, “FIRE!”

Willard and Burgen immediately put nine bullets into Kaady, instantly killing him. And later, claimed they thought he was going for the gun, which, as I said, they conveniently left on the hood of the patrol car. But was this the plan all along, to get “Naked Guy” to run in that direction, so they could ligitamately kill him?

In light of the Kaady killing, we have to ask, why didn’t this so-called “Consent Decree,” negotiated by the Injustice Department, include all abuse committed by the police or corrections officers against any person who is a member of a protected class?

Since many of these killings took place in the suburbs of Portland, shouldn’t it have also included any incident that occurred in the complete tri-county area? Why didn’t it, we should ask ourselves? Who is making these dirty deals selling us out?

Here’s one reason. The killing of George Floyd was done by using a restraint maneuver that was taught to the Minneapolis Police, and most of the police departments in America, by the IDS (Israel Death Squads). So who is responsible for sending our American police to Israel to learn how to brutally kill us, and like most of the Palestinian killings, get away with it?

You guessed right, if you said the ADL, also sometimes known as the “Anti-Defecation League”. And Howard Schultz from Starsmucks hires these sick bastards at the ADL to teach sensitivity training?

The reader would have to agree, I never got any sort of consideration or due process from the state, despite my disabilities.

Before the reader calls me a Nazi or an antisemite, whatever that means, the reader should know I’m 1/8th to 1/4th Jewish. Maybe I’m what they call a “Self-Hating Jew”…or maybe, just maybe, I’m telling the reader the truth about what America has become, under the Zionist thumb.

You see, there’s a disconnect here. Despite all the lip service we get, the truth is most of the people in charge don’t care about us, here in this Third America. And most of the people who are in charge are Jewish.

The Portland’s Consent Decree, which didn’t include people of color, proves this is true.

Why did the legislature in 2015 pay to do a study of how many people of color were incarcerated in Multnomah County, but didn’t include people who are disabled? Is it about dividing us?

first, they don’t know how many disabled people are incarcerated in Oregon, and don’t want to know. Remember, Oregon was the last state to end Eugenics in 1982. But more importantly, maybe it’s to keep us poor people divided, while the Wealthy and the elite, and the people at E-Bay, get away with nothing more than a slap on the wrist for buying their kid a scholarship into one of these elitist schools.

And maybe Amanda Marshall, the former-U.S. Attorney for Oregon, who made this bullshit agreement, was too busy chasing a married man from her office around town. According to Marshall’s ex-lover’s complaint, “After I ended the affair, she kept stalking me, following me everywhere. In fact, his wife also worked in the same office, also under Amanda Marshall.

Not surprisingly, no charges were ever filed. And she promptly resigned her position (as U.S. Attorney for Northern District of Oregon), and Billy Williams, another “medical marijuana racist, bigots,” took over.

So Dennis Rosenbaum, the Jewish professor from Chicago, and the Hispanic former-State Supreme Court Justice, DeMuniz, knew the disabled people would be unable to mount any sort of objection to their findings, or the bullshit Consent Decree itself.

I also was able to ask DeMuniz if he had seen “Alien Boy”, a documentary about James Chasse’s life, he answered no, and seemed to have no idea what I was talking about?

“Isn’t that the movie about that cute, little ET fella?” I imagined him thinking.

What it does mean, is that Rosenbaum and DeMuniz had no intentions of ever honestly investigating the crimes being committed in Oregon by the police and prosecutors against the disabled, like this–

When I showed up on February 6th, 2010, with a receipt, I was immediately arrested.

Even though I provided the deputy with this handwritten receipt, which showed I had paid this erroneous debt in full, written on a legal pad, including my confirmation number, which he could have easily checked, it didn’t matter. The receipt had been written the previous day by an administrative assistant of Erin Fitzgerald, a local private attorney, formally with the Multnomah County District Attorneys Office.

When Aaron told me that Washington County had put a warrant out for my rest, because of what I owed the county and Gregory Troll’s office, I immediately made arrangements to pay it in full. Her assistant took the information down for me, and I brought it with me to the Sheriff’s office early the next morning, thinking I would be able to straighten it out.

When I arrived, I was first arrested. Then I was forced to strip naked,receive a rectal examination (another rape), and made to wear a set of orange jumpers until I went before the judge, late that afternoon.

As Anthony Graves pointed out in his autobiography, “Infinite Hope”, they likely knew that the judge was more likely to look down upon me, if he saw me dressed in orange. In other words, the dirty Washington County Deputies wanted to visually prejudice the court against me, before I ever said a word. In fact, they probably thought the “public pretender” wouldn’t show up, and I would never get to say a word, and the case would be postponed. This way, they could get me back into their jail, even if it were only a few days.

but this was pre-meditated rape. From the moment they decided to dress me in orange, they knew I would also get a rectal exam. And I’m sure, they thought it was real funny.
If someone intentionally came into your home, and with the threat of a gun made you get naked, and spread your butt cheeks for them, wouldn’t this be second or third degree rape. Even if it was only intended to embarrass you, and presumably, there was no actual intent to commit a sexual assault.

But because the “rape” is done under “the color of law”, like everything they do, the judges seem to always give deference to law enforcement, especially if the person is poor, disabled, or a person of color–

I had seen enough treachery from the public pretender’s office. I told the intake deputy I was going to be a pro se litigant, and represent myself, this time. He seem confused, and maybe a little angry, by my choice.

This way, for the first time I was able to explain my case in my own words. Legally, and more importantly, by taking this action Gregory Scholl had been formally dismissed as being my “attorney of record”.

When I went before the judge that afternoon I told him that I had showed the deputy my handwritten receipt from Ms. Fitzgerald’s assistant proving that my debt had been completely paid off, even though it wasn’t due for ten days.

I angrily tried to explained to the judge, and said something like, ‘I paid them everything I owed. But I was forced to strip naked anyway and put on this orange jump suit, and I feel it wasn’t right what they did to me, searching my rectum! Intentionally raping me!’

In what seemed like a gesture of agreement, the judge immediately released me from probation one week early and told me to go home and rest. He must have realized, Among the six defendants standing before him, I was the only one there who had paid their debt in full, yet I was the only one dressed in an orange jump suit.

In other words, the judge knew none of the others had paid off their debts, yet none of them, except me, were stripped and butt searched.

It’s right there for everyone to see. They were all dressed in street clothes, except the “cripple” guy! But this is what Bob Hermann has always been doing to people with disabilities or who appear “defective” in Washington County. That is, if the deputies don’t kill them first, like Jordan Case.

Funny thing, I’m pretty sure it was the same female Washington County Deputy who put me in with a murderer in 2005, who arranged to have me stripped and butt searched that day. I know she was there that day when I brought in my receipt, and I know it was the exact same lady guard who walked me from a cell in the Medical Observation Unit in 2005 and put me back into the isolation dungeon. And put me in a cell with a convicted murderer with hepatitis C.

And it was the same lady-deputy who told my cell mate I wasn’t blind, only faking it to get out.

At first, hearing that my lawyer was here to see me made me immediately feel a lot better. It was one of the very few bright moments I spent in Bob Hermann’s isolation dungeon, like my son’s, Abraham’s, two brief visits. Visits that the jail quickly ended, with once again, no due process, knowing this would further stress me out, as it did.

But it soon became obvious that Gregory Scholl, or “Gregory Troll” as I began calling him, cared nothing about his clients. I was brought into a room and was seated by a guard, facing a glass window. Even though I told the lawyer several times that I could barely hear him through the thick glass, he just kept on talking, as though it didn’t really matter.

He was right. I learned later, he was gunning for, and eventually got to be the director of the county’s “public pretender office”. As far as the county is concerned, his only job is to get every indigent client to sign a plea bargain, and nothing else matters.

That first visit, Scholl brought two people with him. A woman, and a man named Bernard Moore.

Scholl also said he had a private investigator working with him, who I curiously never met, and said his “team” would make sure I got a fair trial.

Almost immediately, I began telling him what was happening to me in the jail and ‘I sure needed some legal help right away’. I told him how they wouldn’t let me even have a paper cup for water in my cell, and wouldn’t let me have anything to read, or let my son come and visit me any more. Scholl claimed we would get together later and go over all of this, but we never did.

Other than reducing my bail from $250,000 to $75,000, which made little difference, my lawyer did absolutely nothing to change the conditions of my confinement, or argue that being able to visit with my three-year-old son was critical to my psychological health. After all, i hadn’t been convicted of anything.

So during one of my short breaks out of the cell, I got another inmate, who could barely write, to write a letter to the court labeled “Motion for Habeas Corpus”. I then had a guard help me mail it to what I realize now was the persecutors’ hand-picked judge, Washington County Circuit Judge Donald Letourneau. And maybe why they waited until the last day, the last working day of the month, December 30th, to present their case to the grand jury. this way they could get the most compromised judge in the county, the judge the persecutors wanted. And this way Judge Letourneau would oversee the jail where I was being psychologically tortured by the Sheriff and some of the deputies, and no one would ever know.

In case you don’t know, the jail has a system of rotating the circuit judges. They are rotated in and out of the jail every thirty days, to presumably oversee the jail, or to cover up crimes committed by the Sheriff or the deputies. This is the same way grand juries are rotated every ninety or 365 days, depending on the jurisdiction.

Presumably these judges oversee most of the procedural hearings and some of the motions being filed with the court. As a matter of due process, the more serious matters, like allegations of having tortured a blind man in the jail, one would assume would be handled through the main courthouse, but not in my case.

this small courtroom was probably no bigger than a walk in closet, and it seemed as though no one was watching the proceedings.

My hearing two years later in front of Judge “Ruthless Rita” Cobb, when the State stole my son, was very different. Strangely, at this hearing in front of Judge Cobb there seemed to be a big audience watching, mostly young people. On the otherhand, in Judge Letourneau’s courtroom it seemed as though there was no one watching, And this way the court could do anything it wanted. It’s not like my fake lawyer would object to this, since apparently he was part of the scam.

So the first question is, why was my habeas corpus hearing not held in the main courthouse, where presumably there would be a public hearing?

My habeas corpus claim, which was intentionally mishandled, should be the first evidence of the widespread corruption in Washington County’s judiciary. Other than the ridiculous Measure 11 indictment against me,to me this proves Washington County and its County Jail regularly conspire with the Circuit Judges in criminal cases being adjudicated on behalf of the State of Oregon.

As this chapter documents, I was being intentionally tortured by Sheriff Rob Gordon and his deputies in the Washington County Jail. This disappointedly includes an African-American man named Sergeant Brown, who supervised the Medical Observation Unit, and may have been ultimately responsible for Madaline Pitkin’s murder.

Why would any jail put a completely blind man, who was partially deaf, in solitary confinement (in what they call the “Isolation Bubble”) for the first eleven days I was incarserated, even though I broke no rules?

Did they want to make sure I couldn’t sleep or have anything to read or listen to, except the inmates who were screaming and pounding all day and night for eleven days?

Were they intentionally trying to make me go crazy, in order to get a plea bargain and win their case? Is this what the government is also doing to troubled men across the country to make them into shooters, so the government can take away the guns?

After reading my writings, do you really think the community was in danger by not placing an ankle bracelet on me and allowing me access to my talking computer, or was that the real problem with them letting me go home and await trial, where I would have a fighting chance to prove that my wife’s effort to sexualize her daughters was the real crime?

So rather than moving my habeas corpus hearing to the circuit court, across the street, where I believe this motion should have been heard, Judge Letourneau and my lawyer Greg Sholl and the DDA Greg Olson allowed this secret hearing to take place in the privacy and secrecy of the jail, where no one would know what they were up to.

Was it because it was very unlikely that the media or any credible observer would hear something odd about this case and become suspicious about why Washington County was treating a completely blind, half deaf, man, an accused indigent defendant with a severe disability, in such a dirty, despicable way?

If you don’t remember, Judge Donald Letourneau is the same judge who once ruled that Oregon’s most notable missing child, Kyron Horman, should be placed in with his mother, who the court knew had a serious pharmaceutical addiction problem, rather than his dad, who worked for Intell and had a steady income and home available.

Why did Bob Hermann and Dennis Marley wait until December 30th, 2004, to bring this case before the grand jury and indict me that same day — the last working day of the year? Did they want to make sure Judge Letourneau would be the one “handling” my case since his turn would begin on January 2, 2005? Did they feel confident I would take their plea deal before February 1st, when another judge would be rotated in?

Anyway, the habeas corpus petition I filed with Judge Letourneau was really brief, because of the “help” they provided, quickly describing the horrific conditions I was being held under, as a severely disabled person.

I wasn’t too specific, thinking I would have a chance to explain myself better at the hearing, so I only asked for any sort of relief the court would offer from these circumstances. I wondered, why wouldn’t they put an ankle bracelet on me, so then I would have access to my talking computer and printer, and my talking books, and my telephone, and a private bathroom and shower, and access to a cup for water when I got thirsty? And most importantly, I would be able to visit my son?

But I feel Judge Letourneau and my attorney violated my civil rights, and never gave me a formal hearing in response to my ‘motion for habeas corpus’, and I feel if I had a real attorney representing me this case would have been dismissed.

Wouldn’t you think a competent circuit judge would direct my lawyer to arrange for an expert to testify about how a blind and deaf person might be effected by this sort of undeserved isolation and abuse?

But Judge Letourneau only let Troll mumble a few words that made no sense at all, and never allowed me to speak on my own behalf. Then he quickly dismissed my habeas corpus petition and I was taken back to the jail, in chains.

And in retaliation for filing my motion, Sergeant Brown and Sheriff Gordon decided a couple days later that a female deputy, who I believe had arrange to have me sexually assaulted by another Washington County deputy in February of 2010, put me back into the isolation dungeon. Except this time I was put in with a convicted murderer who had Hepatitis.

This “inmate” couldn’t wait to tell me that he had once murdered his cell mate and had to spend another ten years in prison! He went on to say he was a disciple of Aleister Crowley, although I didn’t know for sure back then what this meant.

It soon became obvious that while I was in the jail I had no rights at all, other than what they decided. During the first month Gregory Scholl cancelled several of my hearings, hearings over both the habeas corpus motion I had to file on my own behalf and the motion to reduce my bail, which he had filed.

After getting ready and waiting for several hours, eventually I was told by the guards that ‘Your lawyer cancelled the hearings because he’s sick ((again)’, which I realize now was partly true. Greg Scholl is a real sick bastard and helped my wife take away my son!

But here’s the ‘smoking gun’ that proves Scholl’s complicity in helping the DDA obtain a coerced plea bargain.

Apparently, according to Scholl, a ‘post release evaluation report’ had to be done before the bail hearing could be held. “This is how it’s done,” he said.

I remember, I waited all day for this so-called expert to interview me before they wrote the report. Despite that I was never interviewed by anyone, apparently Greg Olson, Greg Scholl and this other person conspired to submit a post release evaluation report to the Court.

I suspect this is the smoking gun in my case, that documents the level of corruption in our criminal injustice system. One only needs to read this report and compare it to my own writings to know they never actually spoke to me, as the report probably claims. Or they leave it vague, so that Judge Bailey can’t tell, so he assumes they actually talked to me. But they never did. How could this report be accurate, or doesn’t accuracy matter in Washington County when it comes to indigent defendants?

This would not be the first time this DDA, Greg Olson’s, abused his power. In 2006, he was only suspended by the useless BAR for the exact same sort of behavior, manipulating witnesses and evidence. Fortunately, this accused defendant had a private attorney, unlike me, who was looking out for his best interests.

Troll also made sure not one day of the 42 days I served counted toward any future re-sentencing if “they” decided to revoke my probation, because I started talking about my case; like if I happen to come up with some new evidence, like the hidden letter my wife sent to Detective Marley in October of 2004, admitting that she had brought her ten-year-old daughter into the bed with her naked, already aroused boyfriend.

After about three weeks of enduring this abuse, I agreed to take the plea bargain, things finally started getting better, at least, for a little while.

Besides a lady deputy named Olsen, the only other decent deputy I met in the jail, along with one of the nurses, came into my cell to see if I was okay. They found me with toilet paper stuffed in both ears and tears running down my face. I begged them to please get me out of here, away from these messed up people.

I overheard them say something to each other about how horrible “this” was — putting a blind guy in a tiny cement room where people were screaming and pounding all day and night.

They quickly had me grab my meager belongings and moved me from the crazy-making Isolation dungeon into the general medical observation unit, and I was put in with a half-Mexican fellow from Sacramento named Chris.

It was unbelievable. It was almost like I had been set free! We talked for hours and read the bible together until he was transferred into the general population a few days later.

Apparently, he was withdrawing from meth. I wondered why he wasn’t also put into the isolation dungeon, since someone had told me that it was designed for anyone withdrawing from hard drugs. And since there was space available in the general medical unit, I wondered why they hadn’t put me out there instead, a little closer to freedom–

After Chris was transferred out I was told I had also been cleared to move into the general population by the medical staff, but the jailers refused to move me, and wouldn’t explain why.

After a couple of weeks in the jail I began to desperately crave the taste of fresh air and the Medical Unit had no outside area; the so-called “medical unit” seemed more like an underground tomb.

I never stopped asking to be transferred into the general population. Finally, I got one of the deputies to say, ‘Sergeant Brown thinks it’s for your own safety that you be kept here in the Medical Observation Unit’.

Fact is, I was being kept in there solely because I am blind, with no regard to the effect on my physical or mental health. And with no regard to my rights as an accused defendant trying to prepare myself for trial.

I think their reasons for keeping me in the isolation dungeon were far more nefarious. If they wanted to use conventional or subtle forms of torture as coercive persuasion, especially to someone who was blind and partially deaf and would already be naturally disoriented, then the Isolation Bubble of the Medical Observation Unit was the perfect place to carry out such a plan. Especially, if the objective was to force the individual to comply, and get them to sign some blank pieces of paper and waive their right to a speedy trial, or their right to have any trial at all! Then disorientating them and placing them in a state of confusion and fear then this remote area of the jail would likely work with most disabled inmates. It did with me, after about thirty-five days.

The medical explanation is that, common techniques used in classical brainwashing have been found to work by causing a cortical inhibition of the higher cerebral function which are key elements of coercive persuasion: physical exhaustion; denial of food; isolation; debilitation; degradation; discipline; and fear.

All of these techniques, when directed to a person being held in captivity, are described by the CIA, Amnesty International, and under international Law and the Geneva Convention, as being “forms of torture”.

The Washington County Sheriff, Rob Gordon and the District Attorney, Bob Hermann, had all of these techniques used against me by their county deputies.

Naomi Klein’s international best-seller, “The Shock Doctrine” describes specifically the first technique of torture used against me. In her book, Klein described how the University of Chicago published a study in which they referred to this willful practice as being the ‘twin torture technique’, in which the captor is subjected to extreme sensory depravation, followed by, or corresponding with, sensory overload. “The screaming and pounding never stopped, in the Isolation Bubble.”

In Jane Mayer’s 2008 book, “The Dark Side”, she describes the effect of the CIA’s torture program on political prisoners being illegally held at Guantanamo Bay by the government of the United States.

Mayer writes, “According to Alfred McCoy, a researcher at the University of Wisconsin Madison, who has written extensively on the CIA’s coercing subjects, said ‘If Subjects are confined without light, odors, sound, or any fixed references of time or place” very deep break down can be provoked.'”

A few days later, after my cell mate Chris was transferred, the same masculine-sounding female deputy, who I suspect was gay, began targeting me with verbal abuse. She was the one who forced me back into the Isolation Bubble where the tireless screamers were.

As soon as she left, I realized, this cell was different than the last time I was put into the isolation dungeon since it had two cement slabs.

I soon learned that the fellow in the other bed, which was nothing more than a raised cement slab that resembled a crypt, said he had spent nine years in prison for once murdering a cell mate.

He explained, this time he was re-arrested after hurting his feet while running from the police a few days earlier. He told me he had used a shotgun to blast his way out of a Scapoose motel room when he was cornered by the police for violating his parole. He said he had run into the woods where he was able to hide for several days, where he injured his feet, before being caught.

Coincidentally, the assistant prosecutor, Greg Olson, had practiced law in Scapoose, Oregon before he joined the district attorneys office.

The murderer, who I began referring to as “Java the Hut” whenever I would speak to Christel or my parents, was really anxious to tell me that he had already spent eighteen years in prison. And most of that time was for murdering this one cell mate who he said had “pissed him off”.

He never told me exactly what it was that had pissed him off so much that made him kill the guy. But I couldn’t help but wonder why…

Perhaps, to provoke a physical confrontation with me, he would yell, “WAKE UP WOLFE!” every time I would start to fall asleep. Once I privately complained to Sergeant Brown, but that was a mistake, because then after I fell asleep he started smacking the floor next to me with something like a spoon or pencil.

The first two weeks in the jail I knew I was intentionally subjected to serious sleep deprivation. Then for the last five or six days I had been able to get a complete night of sleep while I was bunking with Chris from California.

So this new effort to deprive me of sleep was extremely upsetting; Somehow, I found myself back in Washington County’s “sleep deprivation chamber”.

I understand now. But while I was in there it didn’t make any sense. Why WOULD they let any inmate abuse someone who was severely disabled by letting him wake me up every time I would START TO fall asleep?

Thanks to Doctor Joey “Frankenstein” Matarazzo and five other shrinks from OHSU, making an accused defendant feel sleep deprived isn’t considered to be torture, as long as there is no organ failure.

According to a report these monsters wrote, who have been directly link to the CIA’s two torture freaks from Washington State, Mitchell and Jessen, the agents of the government can ethically and legally presumably keep someone awake for years, and years.

These experts say, even though it will eventually kill the prisoner, and make them very, very sick in the mean time, it’s not unconstitutional if they think the person is guilty of something. Innocent until proven guilty no longer applies in America, or at least, it doesn’t apply in Oregon if you’re poor or disabled.

And this is exactly what they have been doing to me for the last nine or ten years, from 2009-2020. And apparently, it’s all part of the process of breaking the accused (or coerced) defendant down on behalf of the police and the prosecutors from the moment the indigent suspect is arrested. This is especially true in cases they can’t afford to lose, like mine.

The next time when the guard brought the commissary order sheet they told this new cell mate to help me fill it out. After the deputy left, ‘Java the Hut’ told me I would have to give him half my order if I wanted his help in filling out yet another inaccessible government form.

I said “forget it”, and pressed the “assistance” button and asked one of the deputies for some help filling out the commissary form when they get time.

But before the deputy came back, the convicted murderer warned me that the next time I left the cell, he would make sure I caught his Hepatitis. Taking the bait, I asked how he planned to do this since I figured he would have to rape me, or cut me with something to infect me. And that wasn’t going to happen.

“over my dead body, fucker!” I thought.

“I only need to rub your toothbrush against my gums a few times.”

I thought about feeling my toothbrush being wet that same morning when I came back from the shower, and wondered if he already had–

I agreed to do what he wanted and let him fill out the form. But it was two years until I found the courage to discover if he actually had infected me; I’ve was really not wanting to go back to the Richmond Clinic and find out the results of the comprehensive STD blood test my doctor took in the spring of 2006, and that was, thankfully, all negative.

I retook tests in 2008, and again in 2011, which were also both negative. So, I finally knew for sure he hadn’t infected me with anything.

I wasn’t sure how he knew so much about the embellished charges that had been leveled against me by the District Attorneys office and Detective Marley, but he did seem to know a lot more than I told anybody in the jail, including my own lawyer.

He began telling me that he was really looking forward to seeing me at the State Pen down in Salem, and then laughed really weird.

He would ask me if I knew what they do to people like me down there, and went on to say something like, ‘probably before they kill you, which they would definitely do to someone like you. With the help of the guards, they would hold you down and–‘

I sat up on my slab and interrupted him, yelling “Shut the fuck up ashole!” Which made him laugh even louder.

Coincidentally, just as I was put in with this convicted murderer by Washington County in 2005, who I believe was told to intentionally intimidate me (and maybe kill me), I read about a similar story involving this Portland man, Michael Hagen, and the Oregon Department of Corrections. Hagen was also intentionally put into a cell with what appears to be another dangerous “Zionist-controlled” psychopath (also posing as a white supremacist ) at the Snake River Correctional Institute.

This inmate had already threaten to kill Hagen, yet that’s exactly who the State of Oregon put Hagen in with after removing him from solitary confinement (against his wishes)– Isn’t this what is called “pre-meditated murder”?

Just so you know, Hagen wasn’t a nice man, and probably deserved to be roughed up. For no reason, he beat up a young, innocent female clerk with a club and badly injured her, while under the influence of meth. This is as senseless as it gets and I’m not defending what he did by including this hauntingly similar situation, set up by the same “correction creeps” from Oregon who intentionally put me in with a convicted murderer.

Was that the plan? Was I supposed to also be murdered by a cell mate, who bragged about having already killed a previous cell mate? Why would Washington County put a completely blind man in a cell with a convicted murderer?

In my case, it was obviously “pre-meditated”, even if it was only done to intimidate me. It could have just as easily also led to my death.

I believe the lesbian deputy responsible, and her supervisors, Sheriff Gordon and Sergeant Brown, should have been prosecuted by the same DA, Bob Hermann, who was helping my wife and her lovers frame me! Of course, that’s a joke–

Unlike me, I believe Hagen was exactly where he was supposed to be, serving his time, for a very long time, and probably, not long enough.

But just like me and Madaline Pitkin, who died in the Washington County Jail at the hands of these same ruthless deputies who did this to me, he deserved to be protected by the state.

And actually, what they did to him wasn’t near as grossly negligent as what they did to me — putting a blind, partially-deaf man, who was still innocent (until proven guilty), in with a convicted murderer and encouraging the murderer to threaten and intimidate the blind inmate (to get Bob another easy plea bargain).

Can you imagine how easily this arrangement could have gone very wrong, and how easy it would have been for this man to kill me?

Even though Hagen told guards he felt this other inmate was intending to harm him, and despite a promise from the Correction Department to transfer him to another prison, Hagen was moved directly from solitary confinement into a cell with the inmate who had threatened to kill him. How much more grossly negligent does it get than this–

As he predicted would happen, the inmate killed Hagen a day later.

According to Hagen’s wife, it’s even worse than that. She told one of the local papers, prison guards ignored her husband’s screams for help, just as they had ignored both Madaline Pitkin and me.

Did you know, when I was being persecuted, unlike 48 other states, the persecutors in Oregon only needed to manipulate ten of the twelve jurors to convict an innocent defendant. This way, with a little help from the public pretender and a crooked judge, getting a convictions of any uneducated or disabled person the state wants to target was fairly easy.

I remember, my own fake lawyer, Gregory Troll, assured me I would probably spend the next year in jail awaiting trial if I didn’t agree to take the persecutor’s dirty plea bargain.

The sad fact is, across America men with disabilities, like black, Hispanic, Native-American and poor defendants, are often targeted by unscrupulous cops and narrow-minded persecutors, like Bob Hermann and Cy Vance, rather than the actual wrongdoers, for many reasons. It’s all about going after the low hanging fruit rather then climbing to the top of the tree and going after the Wall Street banksters or some CEO, which takes a lot more time, energy, and money.

Seeking out the truth also takes some courage, because sometimes you don’t find the answer you expected, or maybe wanted, especially when there’s a paycheck or a hot young lady involved–

After about a week or two of being terrorized every day by this creep, along with a few of the deputies, I called my useless lawyer and left a message, telling him I would do anything to get out of here! I also called Christel that evening and tearfully also told her I had called Scholl and was going to take a plea bargain.

I said, I had enough and would agree to any kind of deal as long as I didn’t have to go to prison. I knew they monitored all of our telephone calls and was warned about being careful what I said, but I just didn’t care anymore. I just wanted to get out, and would say what ever they wanted.

I began convincing myself, even prison, if they isolated me from the really dangerous inmates, would be a lot better than this. In prison you can have a radio and a guitar, and a cell with a somewhat private toilet to use, privately.

(See my work of “fiction”:
“The Prison Poop Porn Channel”

By now, I was starting to go a little crazy from being so isolated from anything familiar. And it seemed like the Murderer was just waiting for an excuse to jump on me, and to probably kill me in what he would say was self-defense. That’s what they would say, I’m sure.

In an open space, maybe I could defend myself, but not in there- I could tell that he was well over six feet tall and sounded pretty big, and really stunk! I’m barely five-eight, and was about a hundred and eighty-five pounds, back then.

Before I ever had a chance to speak to my attorney, just like magic, everything instantly changed! Right away, good things started happening.

The following week, one of the guards offered to help me fill out a commissary request form. They also helped me fill out a request form that allowed Christel to bring me a deck of Braille cards and a Braille book from home, that still had its staples in it!

This was very strange, since when I had asked Sergeant Brown directly about getting something in Braille to read or getting my Braille cards he made it clear that it was firm jail policy that all publications or materials, such as books or playing cards, must come straight from the publisher or manufacturer.

He added, “It’s for public safety reasons that we do this-” Later I thought about the staples in the book they forgot to remove.

The best thing that happened that week, after I let Scholl know I would take the plea bargain, was that they moved ‘Java’ out and moved a friendly, petty-criminal fellow named Thornburg in with me.

We talked about all kinds of stuff. I learned a lot about the jail from Thornburg, stuff I should have been told the first day they took me into custody.

I told Thornburg about the time this female deputy screamed at me over the little speaker. “READ YOUR MANUAL!” She yelled.

I made the mistake of asking her a question about one of the jail’s policies. After she reprimanded me, I said I was blind, and asked if they had a Braille copy of the manual. but like everyone else, she didn’t believe I was blind.

One evening, the lady-deputy who put me in with the murderer, came into the cell where Thornburg and me were talking. She told Thornburg in front of me that I was faking my blindness to get out of jail.

n her book “Insane”, Roth wrote, “As one doctor who worked in jails for many years told me, everybody in correctional health has half an eye to, is this person trying to get over on me.”

Except I wasn’t trying to get over on anybody. But the cops and persecutors in Oregon are especially stupid when it comes to blindness, and a lot of other things. For the record, Dr. Richard A. Lewis, from the University of Michigan Medical Center wrote a report when I was eleven or twelve-years-old which said that my older brother and I had a degenerative eye condition called Retinitus Pigmentosa.

He went on to say that our prognosis was to both be completely blind within the next ten years. Even though my brother had fairly good vision at the time, and even legally drove for a couple years, I was already legally blind by that time and lost the rest of my useable vision at eighteen. My older brother was lucky enough to not go legally blind until his early twenties.

The one thing I learned about most “law enforcement” people while in the jail is that they have these amazingly huge egos, and take everything personal.

Thornburg and me began talking about opening a place called “Thornyburgers” and I came up with a jingle, and we both started writing a menu for Thornyburgers! I’m sure Thornburg knew it was really just about keeping our minds busy with something, but went along with it anyway.

Sergeant Brown even let Thornburg clean our cell, including the toilet.

Having to use the toilet in the presence of female guards was surely the most humiliating experience of all since the toilet was in plain view of the door and the guards would presumably come around every fifteen minutes to check on us.

I noticed, some of the real sick deputies would come around when ever they saw me sitting on the toilet and say nothing, but tap on the glass, to humiliate me.

It wasn’t clear when they were watching, since I couldn’t hear much of anything through the glass cell door. But it was truly degrading to have someone you didn’t know, especially someone of the opposite gender, watching while using the bathroom, or worse, never really knowing when they were or weren’t watching–

(See my work of “fiction”:
“The Prison Poop Porn Channel” at:

I learned later, the Washington County Jail’s Medical Observation Unit and the Special Needs Pod both have a cell with a private shower and a somewhat more secluded toilet that would have effectively accommodated someone in my circumstances and provided some degree of privacy, had it been there intentions to allow me to await trial with some small degree of dignity and comfort.

For that matter, putting me on home arrest, where I could use my toilet, computer and telephone would have been the just and compassionate thing for Judge Letourneau to do, given my unusual circumstances.

The State violated my most basic Constitutional right, to be considered innocent until proven guilty.

Many of those in the legal community and local media, many of whom apparently sleep together, have continued to punish me for speaking out about Oregon’s injustice system. Sharing my own experience with Johneen, and other former-political prisoners, only outraged them more, as I would learn.

Shortly after Thornburg was moved into my cell, I met privately with the Washington County’s assigned Public pretender, Gregory Scholl, who had me sign a bunch of papers, that he said needed to be signed if I wanted out.

By this point — after thirty-five days in the dungeon, I wasn’t able to focus on what he said or what he said was on the papers he wanted me to sign, if anything. Since I couldn’t read them and wasn’t given a copy to go over later, and there was no witness, they may have all been blank pages as far as I know.

He claimed one of them was an agreement to waive my right to a speedy trial. This is a right provided to all Americans under the U.S. Constitution to be brought before a jury of your peers within ninety days of your arrest. However, the courts in recent years have been denying this right to Americans with disabilities as an “accommodation” to the government.

As I thought about why Scholl wanted me to sign this one document, it didn’t really make sense. Waiving my right to a speedy trial wouldn’t matter until ninety days had passed. And Scholl promised me I would be released within a few days, which was true, since I was let out about a week later.

But like I said, I have no idea what I really signed that afternoon. Wouldn’t you think an Oregon lawyer with a client who was completely blind would be required by the Oregon BAR to have a witness or two present when the client was signing their life away?

The Oregon BAR seems to be more corrupt than the lawyers they pretend to “supervise”. And the fact that Scholl didn’t bother to give me copies of what I signed, and Scot Emerson from the BAR didn’t feel it was necessary to investigate this complaint, ought to raise some questions in the mind of any reasonable person about what I actually did sign, or signed away–

Because of what has been happening over the last ten years whether I am home or away — being shocked or traumatized every day with some sort of psychotronic [electro magnetic high energy] weapon that can itch you, shock you, burn you, anger you, or just make you disorientated, I now wonder if I had been tricked into signing something by Scholl to give them the right to experiment on me, again, now that I was a “criminal” under the “law”?

Normally, as everyone who knows me knows, I wasn’t shy about demanding my rights! But I guess, as I believe was their real intent all along, I just didn’t care about my rights anymore. I just wanted to go home, so I signed Bob Hermann’s coerced plea bargain.

I do remember that the county pretender said that the District Attorneys, Bob Hermann and Greg Olson, were insisting that I say these exact seven words in court before they would release me. I told him that this statement was untruthful and extremely misleading about how it really was:

When I suggested we needed to clarify what really happened, he made one thing perfectly clear. Mr. Gregory Scholl assured me that I would spend the next year in jail waiting for trial, and who really knew how that might turn out, if I didn’t say exactly what ‘Hermann Monster’ wanted, and agree to accept this “great deal” from the persecutors — agree to become a lifetime felon and a lifetime registered sex offender, and lose access to my son, ABRAHAM, forever!

And lose the right to ever be considered credible, as an advocate for people with disabilities, as I’ve done all my life.

And forever lose the right to live in subsidized housing or anywhere else, other than a trailer park, or under a bridge somewhere.

And lose the right to ever get any sort of decent job, that pays more than $2.50 per hour, even if I was fully qualified for something better.

And every year pay the state an extortion fee of $70, while they hand out my personal information to any vigilante that walks through the door, with an axe to grind.

In other words, completely give up my right to ever exist, except in this third world in our ‘Third America’–

So on February 16, 2005 I was released from the Washington County Jail at about 4:30 in the afternoon. After boarding the train, I heard a man sitting behind me and across the way who I know now was the assistant persecutor, Gregory Olson. Him and his friends were laughing and having a good time, apparently feeling pleased over having abused me and my rights and having gotten away with it.

As I mentioned, a year later Olson wasn’t so lucky and was suspended for six months by the BAR for doing the exact thing he did to me, and got away with-

And that night I left my door open, as Christel had asked me to do (even though she had a key). Some time after I fell asleep, I was awoken by her, and felt her slip her naked body into the bed and snuggle up to me.

I thought she had cleaned my sheets and made the bed for us, since we had begun to plan for this reunion when I told her I would agree to except a plea bargain and wouldn’t be going to court. A few weeks Later a neighbor told me that they had saw Christel and another man going into my apartment in Lake Oswego on Valentine’s Day, while I sat in jail, waiting to get out.

At the beginning of this chapter I mentioned the torture and murder of Jordan Case, but I didn’t mention that he was killed by two deputies and a ride-along from the Washington County Seriff’s Department. The details of this murder and how the Distrrict Attorney, Bob Hermann, covered up the crime by never bringing the case to the grand jury, best explains what happened to me, and I suspect a lot of other indigent defendants in America, under this three teer injustice system.

In 2008 I interviewed the Jordan Case family’s attorney while volunteering at KBOO News and wrote the following article criticizing the police and Bob Hermann in 2017:
“10 Year Anniversary Since Bob Hermann Monster Let Cop Off for Executing Stoned Kid”
(with a bullet to the back of the head)…Then Cop Goes Blind! Karma?
by DR Wolfe

(Includes strong language)

Of all the sickness that is the real, untold dark history of Oregoon, the October 21st, 2006 torture and cold-blooded execution of Jordan Case, a one hundred twenty pound, twenty-year-old kid who was tripping on shrooms at the time is among the most egregious of all the excessive force cases I’ve ever studied.

After being tasered dozens of times by police, shot with almost a dozen beanbag rounds, Case was then shot four more times with live rounds by the police, including eventually a fatal shot to the back of his head as he was running for his life–

Sadly, many police shootings fall into this particular category — a pissed off, vengeful thug with a badge and a weapon, and someone to blame for what happened to them earlier that day, or last week, or maybe because of something that happened to them last year…

The fact that Washington County District Attorney Bob Hermann did not even bother to bring the case before the grand jury, knowing that Case was unarmed at the time and was shot in the back of the head at point blank range by Washington County Deputy Glenn Howard. And this was after Jordan was tortured by two Washington County deputies, one Sherwood police officer and a “ride-along”, ought to scare the hell out of anyone in Oregon who isn’t among the elite.

But as usual, the mainstream media played a key roll in covering up the facts in this case by only repeating, not questioning, the lies that the Washington County authorities wanted them to tell. Such as saying, that Case was some how able to grow by over four inches two years after he died. Simply remarkable!

Ask yourself, does changing a few of the physical characteristics of a “suspect” create a different impression on your subconscious about someone you don’t know? obviously it does.

Especially if you need to protect the county’s liability and damages in a police shooting and wanted to prejudice the potential jury pool as much as possible. Using the media, there’s many ways the government can accomplish this:

First, begin releasing misleading information to the press which is the most common practice police and prosecutors use, and never mention anything positive about the subject.

Another technique they use IS to make the victim or “suspect” seem, bigger; older; more dangerous than they really are; and with some sort of “history”.

Except Jordan Case had no criminal record, and had been accepted into Oregon State’s Physics Department, and was working full time to save up for school when he was killed by police.

Now days, the corporate media will always echo what their told by “authorities”, true or not. Like saying the “suspect” had a past drug arrest, but never disclose it was only over marijuana.

Or they will say, ‘the suspect had been involved in a domestic violence incident’, But won’t include relevant information such as, ‘it occurred in the distant past’ or say, ‘however, there was no charges filed.

And now days, with all the false flag shootings, the media will almost always say the shooter had a “history of mental illness”, but won’t ever explain exactly what that means.

Or as they did in my case, say the person “isn’t as blind as they “pretend”. Another lie–
(see article: “3 Americas: 42 Days in Bob Hermann Monster’s Isolation Dungeon and the Coerced Plea Bargain”)

Another common way the police use the press to manipulate the public is by getting the media to say, “And the police are also looking for other possible victims. If you have any information you’re encouraged to contact law enforcement right away.” This way, anyone watching or listening with an axe to grind can “help out” the police with what they always call “new information”. However, these “witnesses” are rarely ever found to be reliable.

This sort of willful public manipulation is how Washington County used the media to cover up what many feel was an “extra-judicial execution” by police of a kid they knew was on drugs, and immediately hated because of it. Once they were done fucking with him!

Consider, Jordan Case only weighed 128 lbs when he died. While on the other hand, Howard and the other three men involved in the brutal killing all weighed over 200 lbs. each. Yet, twice, and perhaps many other times, they were unable (or unwilling) to handcuff Case and take him into custody, so they tortured him for awhile, and then killed him.

As you probably already know, using excessive force is a common way police in America today deal with people they perceive as being “defective”.

The first opportunity to take Case into custody came when a deputy discovered the barely twenty-year-old kid in the bedroom of his neighbor, Sally Arellano, where she had him pinned to the floor.

Arellano was five foot two and weighed about 120 lbs at the time of Case’s killing. Apparently, the two had struggled when Case forced himself into a back bedroom, but was subdued by her before police arrived.

For an unspecified amount of time Washington County Deputy John Jayne repeatedly tasered Case, but never handcuffed him, despite having several opportunities. In his own words, Jayne describes how both he and his friend, Grant Collins, took turns pressing their foot into Case’s back as he lie on the floor, and continued to taser him, rather than handcuffing him and putting him into the patrol car, as a reasonable officer would be expected to do.

So that it is perfectly clear to the reader, Jordan Case was laying face down on the floor with the foot of either Deputy Jayne or Grant Collins’ in his back, at some point according to Jayne, and yet Jayne chose to not reach down and handcuff him, but instead, chose to just keep on tasering him–

To those of us who have studied the growing problem of excessive force being used by police on unarmed “suspects”, the picture that begins to emerge here is that from the very beginning Jordan Case was viewed by these officers as being nothing more than a wild animal. And animal who could be legally tortured by the police, who knew they had absolute impunity from the DA, the DOJ and the courts no matter what they did. And apparently they were right!

After a time Jayne and his friend, who was described as a “ride-along”, decided to leave Jordan there, in the master bedroom, still not handcuffed.

Deputy Jayne claimed they decided to back out of the apartment and wait outside for backup. However, it more appears as though Deputy Jayne was planning to ambush Case when he came outside.

The original victim, Sally Arellano, had told a different story in 2006 when she gave an extensive interview to Helen Yung with the Oregonian.

During the interview, Arellano said she saw Deputy Jayne and his friend walk out of the apartment without Case, but she said they were facing forward with their guns drawn, not walking backward as Jayhne claimed.

According to Arellano, she then saw Case come out of the apartment following Deputy John Jayne and his friend, Grant Collins. It’s important to note that Collins wasn’t a trained, certified police officer, but apparently a personal friend of Jayne’s.

[Some questions for the grand jury:]
I. Why didn’t ?Deputy Jayne handcuff Case before leaving the apartment?

II. Did Deputy Jayne change his behavior when he decided to keep tasering Case, and not handcuffing him, because Collins was there?

III. Did Deputy Jayne’s friend, Grant Collins, have the right to brandish a weapon against an unarmed citizen?

Maybe these are the questions the prosecutors did not want a grand jury to hear, thinking that all three officers and Collins may end up being indicted for Case’s murder, if all the strange facts and strange behavior were fully exposed by some uppity, inquisitive grand juror.

So, let’s draw this picture a little clearer, in the case you already can’t imagine how grossly negligent these cops were, until they decided to stop messing around with Case and finally kill him.

Imagine, the police show up on a call involving a home invasion, with two possible victims, a woman and her eight-year-old daughter. They enter the apartment to find the male intruder laying on the floor, being held down by an extremely petite woman. At this point, in the training police receive aren’t they supposed to secure the “crime scene” and quickly handcuff the suspect, who they already know is guilty of trespassing, at the very least?

According to Arellano at the time, who apparently made no allegation and had no visible signs of being sexually assaulted by Case, Jayne and Collins were facing forward when they walked outside with their guns drawn. Not walking backwards and pointing them at Case, as Deputy Jayne testified in the civil case. But instead, Arellano said the two men were both pointing their guns at an invisible suspect who appeared to be walking in front of them, as though it were a parade honoring the brave and courageous officers of Washington County.

And then, according to Arellano, as though it were a comedy film starring the ‘Keystone Cops of Washington County’, here comes this skinny, still unarmed kid staggering out of the bedroom, stoned out of his mind, following the cops, like a lost puppy searching for its owner–

Now ask yourself, according to the facts provided by the original victim herself when it happened, Sally Arellano, do the police behave as though they perceive Jordan Case is a dangerous criminal who has attempted to sexually assault a young woman in the presence of her eight-year-old daughter? Yet, this is what the story later became.

After Case came out of the apartment,this is when the game of cat and mouse really began, and probably why they didn’t handcuff him, despite multiple opportunities.

When they got outside, witnesses said Washington County Deputy John Jayne first threw Case against the wall and then began tasering him a few more times, knocking Case to the ground. Once again, while Case was down Deputy Jayne made no effort to handcuff him.

Not surprisingly, Jordan got up and took off running.
At this point, Sherwood Police Officer Adam Keesee arrived with a beanbag rifle and joined in by repeatedly shooting at Case who seemed to be running in circles, jumping over anything that appeared in front of him. Try to imagine a toddler laughing and trying to keep away from his mother-

Jordan had been a cross country champion for Reynolds High School and graduated in 2004 with a G.P.A. of 3.55.He was described by most who knew him as being an “exceptional” student, who obviously deserved better.

This is when Washington County Deputy Glenn Howard drove up and spotted Case running, and pulled over his car and got out, leaving the door open. Howard then fired his taser seven times at Case as he approached and then accidentally shocked himself trying to load another cartridge.

In what must have been a state of momentary rage, Howard decided to drop his taser and pull out his revolver and start shooting at Jordan.

Then, once again the police failed to take advantage of the situation and handcuff Case as he sat on the ground, breathing heavily and leaning against Howard’s police car with a gun shot wound to his chest.

Given Glenn Howard’s apparent “inability” to properly use a taser (after three years of policing), one must ask could he have instead tackled Case who weighed a hundred pounds less than him, rather than pulling out his revolver?

Fact is, Glenn Howard had no legitimate reason to shoot Case in the chest. It appears as though Howard shot Case for the simple reason he was angry about being “incapable” of properly using a taser to subdue a suspect. And Glenn Howard certainly had no right to shoot him in the back of the head a few minutes later, when Jordan tried to get up one last time, and run away in fear of his life! Fearing that these “monsters”, dressed in clown suits, as they must have seemed to him at the time (no offense to good clowns), had every intention of killing him, as they eventually did–

Did Case maybe get up and run because he overheard Deputy Jayne, who was standing over him and dangling his handcuffs, according to an eye witness, say something like, ‘What the hell we gonna do now Glenn? We got us a real problem here. You just shot an unarmed kid in the chest. Damn!’

Why didn’t Deputy Jayne immediately reach down and handcuff the bleeding suspect, instead of asking Howard what to do? You notice, the police don’t usually have a problem handcuffing the people they shoot, live or dead. And at this point, Case already had at least one serious bullet wound.

Obviously, Jordan Case needed emmediate medical attention. So why did all four of these men wait to call for medical assistance until after Deputy Howaard had shot him again? For course, it was too late by then to help Jordan–

A witness who was standing a few feet away, Sandra Figueroa, testified, Deputy Jayne stood there for almost two minutes dangling his handcuffs and kept asking Howard “What we gonna do? What we gonna do, Glenn?”

Fortunately for Jayne and Howard, Case gave them the excuse they needed to take out the witness against them.

“I think he was just trying to hold onto something,” said Figueroa, who saw Case get up with his hands raised and stagger forward, and then fall against the car door seconds before Howard opened fire for the second time!

Both this witness and the blood splatter evidence prove Case never actually entered Howard’s vehicle, which was the excuse Deputy Howard used for killing him.

So we should ask, was just getting near a police car enough to justify the use of excessive force?

As evidence of how police regularly intimidate those who witness their use of excessive force, like in the case of Eric Garner, Sandy Figueroa was held and questioned for over two hours by police, despite telling them that she had three children waiting at home for her.

Obviously, the police wanted to find out what she witnessed about what they had done to Jordan Case, but they also wanted to see if they could find something they could use against her to discredit her testimony if needed. Apparently, the only discrepancy police could get from her statement was that Figueroa lied about waiting for a friend when she heard the commotion and came outside to see what was going on.

Given all of this, a reasonable person must ask, why didn’t the District Attorney, Bob Hermann, bring this incident before a grand jury? Because of it, many of the details in this case will never be known to the general public, other than the version the police and the Prosecutor want to tell. And since the corporate controlled media won’t tell the real story, on behalf of Jordan Case and all the stoners out there I will tell it, except without the usual righteous spin–

Make no mistake, our lives depend on it. Understanding the misleading details about the execution of Jordan Case provided to us by both the police and media is critical in recognizing how “they” cover up these ongoing executions by “law enforcement”.

As mentioned above, Jordan Case was only five foot seven inches tall (And probably looked more like a kid?), yet one reporter inaccurately wrote years after the shooting he was five foot eleven inches tall (And, based on this alternative description probably looked more like a mature male with a serious eating disorder? Perhaps, from using hard drugs, as Deputy Jayne claimed by saying “I thought he might be on PCP”?

Fact is, Case had never been in trouble with the law.

Yet, the way the police and the media described Jordan’s drugs of choice, confirm their intent of misrepresenting the killing of someone whose behavior would have more accurately been described just a few months earlier as being “a ‘scrawny teenager who was caught experimenting with magic mushrooms wile aimlessly wandering his own neighborhood”.

Fact is, Jordan had a few marijuana plants, a bag of mushrooms, and instructions about how to make mescaline. Yet, the police said he was “manufacturing mescaline”, since putting it this way sounds more like Jordan Case was running some sort of massive drug operation out of his apartment.

The reason they misrepresent the evidence and the physical characteristics — making the suspect bigger, older and more dangerous, is because they know our society has a different set of standards about how police should treat kids who are dabbling in drugs and wandering the neighborhood. Or who might go into a neighbors’s home without permission, even if it sounds like there’s a party going on and the door is unlocked.

So embellishing a person’s shortcomings and muddying up other facts is part of an overall strategy among the powers that be and those who serve them, as you can see from the case about Case that was never brought to light.

Years after the killing, it was reported that Jordan’s neighbor suddenly remembered that he also tried to repeatedly touch her pants and then later tried to pull them off during their struggle. If true,
don’t you think the police would have included this information about a possible sexual assault at the time to further justify the shooting? But they didn’t-

During one of her early interviews, Sally Arellano described how she woke up on the couch to find this young guy, Jordan case. waiving his hands over her, as if to feel her aura, but said nothing about him trying to touch her while she lie on the couch.

“like he was trying to feel the energy,” she told the reporter. But she never claimed he had tried to pull her pants down, as she claimed years later.

Apparently, Deputy Jayne had no reason to suspect the woman had been sexually assaulted, since he walked out of the apartment without case, who was never handcuffed, as one would assume a reasonable police officer would do in any alleged sexual assault case, finding the suspect in the bedroom of the victim.

Now years later, with these new salacious details, the killing seems more justified, or at least it does to the feminist reading the story about how the police killed a suspected “rapist” who was on “mescaline!”.

But the facts prove that’s not what Case did, or what he was thinking about doing, when he heard a neighbor’s television blasting out the sound of people laughing and decided to investigate what sounded like a party by opening her unlocked door and walking in.

No doubt, it must have been a really creepy experience for Sally, waking up to find a stranger in your living room!

She had every right to be afraid for her and her sleeping daughter. She said, Case refused to leave and tried to follow her into a back bedroom. He then forced the door open and a struggle ensued.

But if we think about the facts they prove Case had no intention of ever harming Arellano or her daughter. He could have easily put a knife to Sally’s throat when he first found her sleeping on the couch, and given her an ultimatum of either letting him do what he wanted to her, or her daughter.

Except Jordan apparently had no idea that there was a sleeping child in the other room, which proves he never searched the apartment, as one would think any real sex predator would likely do to make sure no one els was home, finding an attractive young woman sleeping on the couch.

Also, since Deputy Jayne was able to walk right in, apparently Case didn’t lock the door or search for a weapon after entering the apartment, which further suggests he had no intent to harm Sally or her daughter. One would think locking the door would have been his first thought, after finding her alone, sleeping in the living room. Police records document Jordan Case had no weapon when he was killed.

Perhaps Sally Arellano was feeling some guilt over Jordan’s death that subconsciously caused her to later embellish her story. While we can agree that she was certainly careless by falling asleep with the door unlocked and a sleeping child in the home, she is no way responsible for what the police did to Jordan Case that night. Yet she may have been feeling some guilt about what happened when she testified at the civil trial several years later.

Clearly, Case should have been immediately arrested by Deputy Jayne for trespassing the moment he found Jordan in Arellano’s bedroom.
However, throwing in a few alleged sexual assault or sexual harassment allegations is what the police, prosecutors, and almost all of the corporate (and a few of the”liberal”) media shills, do today to promote their agenda that all “females” (and police) are “victims”. And almost all straight men are violent, sex predators.

So let’s take a close look at the facts that caused Deputy Howard to pull his police revolver out and fire, not once, but twice, and eventually kill case for what was no legitimate reason. Well, that’s not completely true since this knucklehead had accidentally tasered himself seconds before deciding to make Jordan Case pay for the pain and embarrassment he felt by shooting Case in the chest and then shooting him again a few minutes later, blowing off the back of Jordan’s head!

According to Howard, he claimed he believed Case was climbing into his patrol car to grab a rifle that was locked in a rack between the front two seats.

So, Washington County Deputy Howard wants us to believe that despite a bullet wound to the chest and being loaded on shrooms Case was going to be able to lay on his injured chest and stretch his body across the front seat and then use one hand to push the rifle’s release button located on the upper left side of the floor board, provided he knew it was there.
And then with amazing dexterity, Howard said he believed Case was going to use the other hand to pull the rifle from its rack. And then Howard believed Case would be able to quickly back out of the car and point the rifle toward Jayne and him, and then fire it before they had a chance to defend themselves. Really?

Only problem with this story, is that Case would have to hold the foot button down with one hand at the same time he was removing the rifle from the rack with his other hand. If anyone could imagine this, Jordan is supposed to be able to stretch his body across the seat and spread his arms out wide enough to do this, bleeding heavily from the chest. Of course, this would seem like the perfect opportunity for Howard to have thrown his 200 pound body on top of Case until he could be handcuffed. But that’s not what he did.

Thing is, every police officer knows the rifle’s release button is designed to be pushed down with the driver’s foot at the same time they are removing the rifle from its rack. Even for an experienced officer, this isn’t easy to do. It’s made so the button has to be engaged at the exact same moment the rifle is being removed from the rack.

Howard knew, or should have known, this was just about physically impossible for anyone to do, let alone for someone who was in the condition that Case was in by this time, bleeding heavily from a wound to the chest.

Before the fatal bullet was fired, apparently Deputy Jayne just stood there waiting to be told what to do, with his handcuffs in hand.

So maybe Howard was thinking to himself. “Oh Shit! Oh shit! What the fuck am I gonna do-”

Howard’s opportunity came. Case got up to run away, but stumbled forward and fell against Howard’s car door with is hands raised, as if to surrender, according to the only eye witness not working with the police, Sandra Figueroa.

So we are supposed to believe, Howard envisioned case making this remarkable physical maneuver to get the rifle out, much like the plane that allegedly hit the Pentagon, and then was going to be able to kill both Deputy Jayne and himself before they could react!

Howard’s argument was that he believed he would not have had time to react if Case succeeded in getting the rifle out.
But would if Deputy Jayne had said something that made Howard think he had no other choice other than to kill the only witness who would testify against him.

“Dead people tell no truths”, he may have thought to himself, as he pulled the trigger and watched Jordan’s brains and blood splatter across the car door and ground!

Yet, no grand jury ever heard any of this evidence. So then, what is the grand jury really for? Perhaps, we should ask the Oregon legislature, who once again chooses to do almost nothing about fixing this broken, highly corrupt injustice system, where cops always get off, the average person is almost always indicted, and the whole truth is rarely ever told by witnesses.

Bob Hermann’s claim that Howard and Jayne were in fear of their lives is not only a blatant lie, but completely laughable…except that Jordan Case is dead, forever, and Howard is now living off the county’s disability insurance because of an injury to his left eye, and is walking around free.