Account from an arrested man

Started by bola, Oct 28, 2007, 04:38 AM

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From antimisandry:

"I can remember the day I was arrested on a trumped-up charge of domestic violence. As I was led across my lawn in handcuffs, a neighbor looked at me judgmentally, smiling. I felt so alone at that moment. But it didn't stop. I got to the police station, and was thrown in a tiny holding cell not much bigger than a house bathroom, along with 20-25 other men. The concrete floor had a grimy substance, and because all the benches were occupied I (and several others) had to sit in it for hours. Then the officers came in and read me a notice that I was not allowed to return Home, talk to my kids, contact anyone there (indirectly or directly) for at least one week. The day began this way at 10:30 AM. I was moved in and out of crowded cells like this until the wee hours of the morning, when I was searched, then released on the street with nothing but my wallet and the shirt on my back. It was 2:30 AM. There was a row of taxi cabs waiting a few feet just outside the door to the courthouse building. The cabbies knew this was the time when former inmates were being released. It was a regular occurrence. Those men who couldn't afford a cab walked to the nearest all-night restaurant, a Denny's a few blocks away. What they did after their first hour sipping coffee, I didn't know... It was damn cold that night too, and I didn't want to be outside. Not around these people. I got in a cab and asked the cab driver to take me to the nearest hotel. I was dropped off on a seedy street of several hotels. I walked up to the first hotel, a Super 8, and spoke to the man inside the lobby through a bullet-proof window. I asked him if I could get a room for the night, and he looked at me with suspicion. He knew where I had just come from. He took my credit card and swiped it. He told me the card had been declined. My Ex had deactivated the credit line in the preceding few hours. So I pulled out a second card, but he declined to even try it. I moved on to the next hotel and, fortunately, my second credit card worked that time. When I got up to my room, all I could think about was taking a shower. I not only wanted to wash off any grime from my body, but also the stench of shame and humiliation I felt. The feelings didn't wash off. After the shower, I changed right back into the same grimy clothes I wore in the prison cell for the previous 16 hours, turned off the light, and went to bed. At that moment I didn't know anyone that I could talk to -- not just because I was prohibited from calling certain people, but because I simply didn't want other people to know. It was so late, and I was so isolated. The next day wasn't much better.

Over the next few weeks I slowly pieced together my life again. But my Ex had called every one of my family members, and all of her own, trying to frame the issue. My family members did support me, but they were all out of town. I wished I could have talked to someone real, someone immediate, someone available, and someone who understood. Someone who could not only listen, but provide help and advice to assist me.

(...) there are people out there that are hurting. I was one. Today I am helping men with just such situations. They call me frequently. I spoke on the phone to one just a few days ago. They find me through my Web site, but sometimes they just need to speak to a real person. I am there for them. I've been where they've been. I know what it's like -- to be emotionally abused prior to the arrest, then vilified subsequent to it. I help guys like this because the Web is not enough. They are out there, and they need it. I want to help them. "

dr e

Do you have a link for this?  It would be great to have this in the men's stories section.  It tells the details that most don't hear about this sort of injustice.  We really need to get men's stories like this inot the public domain.
Contact dr e  Lifeboats for the ladies and children, icy waters for the men.  Women have rights and men have responsibilties.



Yup, that was me....  Said in response to a fellow poster at AntiMisandry -- Drex -- who had asserted that carrying our activism beyond the keyboard was futile.  I was trying to tell him that non-Internet activism was absolutely needed.


For what it is worth and perhaps it is cold comfort.....the highest rate of mangina and woman swing vote desertion of feminist support I have ever observed was people who had the experience of one of their sons being put through this sort of sausage grinder. I include in this some guys who even supprised me because they had run for public office on the never question feminism ticket.


I can remember how bola felt.  Happened to me in Las Vegas, almost item by item.  The "complaintant"  (a girlfriend) was not even the one who called the cops.  Her room mate did after seeing red purse strap marks on her arms, made when I yanked the purse away from her AFTER she hit me in the head with it in a casino parking lot.  First time I'd ever been in jail and it was on a Saturday night in a room full of drunks and guys raving.  After 12 hours I was released after posting a $200 bond with a court date scheduled a month later.  After spending another $750 retainer for an attorney, my "day in court" was an arraignment where I pled Not Guilty, and was scheduled for another court date.  The "victim" was sorry all this had happened and refused to show up but the DA didn't care.  It was the State of Nevada against me.   The facts of the case didn't matter.  Only those red marks on the woman's arms did, OH! The humanity!  Eventually, I had to agree to a "deal" where I promised to stay out of trouble and 100 yards away from my victim for six months, otherwise the case would be continued indefinitely and I could not leave the country without risking becoming a "fugitive."

And you know what?  "What happens in Vegas" does NOT always stay in Vegas (when it comes to domestic violence.)  I was a newly retired GI with a super compartmented Top Secret security clearance and 20 years of work experience in the computer field.....under 40 years old and in perfect health, but every gov't agency I applied to requiring my qualifications, and there were dozens, mysteriously, inexplicably, failed to even invite me for an interview.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.  After two years of frustration, I moved to the Philippines and life has been good ever since.  Being a man is a GOOD thing here.


My story's nearly the same as Bola's posting from Antimisandry..

It happend in Chicago...Except my bond was $20,000....I had only gone out with her twice...I didnt even know the bitch's last name...It all started when she showed up at my doorstep unannounced one Sunday evening and I said that I didnt feel that we hit it off and I didnt want to see her again...A week later 6 cops pulled me out of my house and arrested me.  They said they were prepared to shoot my dogs because she claimed they were trained to kill.

The rest is simular as most men that have gone through this...It's been two years since...I spent well over $30,000 defending house has been near forclosure for a while now...

The Philippines you say huh?
Falsely accused and maliciously prosecuted.


If you have at least $1000/mo income and a passport, its paradise.  Let me know if you need more info.

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