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khaosworksGot an e-mail from Michelle Grant today, with a first-person account of a peace demonstration in Philadelphia on Thursday the 20th where she got arrested. I'm glad to see that she wasn't mistreated (aside from an over-tight pair of plastic cuffs), and for historical reasons, it's interesting to see such first-person accounts being distributed around. For what it's worth, I'm going to post it here as well, after the cut tag.
---------- Forwarded message ---------- Subject: I got arrested yesterday (fwd) I got arrested Thursday, along with over 100 other people, blocking the entrances to the federal building here in Philadelphia. Feel free to redistribute, but please remove my e-mail address if you do. -- -Michele G. ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Subject: how was it? On Thu, 20 Mar 2003, adams wrote: how was it? Groovy, except that they put the plastic cuffs on more tightly than they needed to. We surrounded the federal building and blocked the doors. Our message was that we could not allow business as usual to continue while this war does. I was part of an "affinity group" that called itself Greens and Friends of Greens. Several hundred people marched; over 100 people were arrested in the end. We went by pre-organized affinity groups to the various doors and entrances of the building. Our team was assigned the infrequently- used doors on the north side (Arch Street). The Philly police, PPD, videoed us when we first placed ourselves (we started chanting something about civil rights as the cameraman walked by) but the PPD otherwise refused to arrest us. It's not necessarily that they're against the war; it's probably more that there was so much backlash against the PPD's illegal behavior during the Republican National Convention in 2000. It may also be some political nonsense due to the feds' closing Chestnut Street at Independence Hall, an important artery for business, tourism, and residents. A large line of PPD watched us from the other side of Arch Street. Because they were wearing bright rain slickers, we called them our "yellow affinity group" since we were Greens. We stood for less than an hour and encountered only one federal employee, a gentleman who shouted an obscenity at us because he could not get inside to work. The group at the loading dock ramp, on 7th Street, was arrested first. We were invited by one of the support people to take their place, so we did. Apparently, the first crew's arrest freaked out their support people. But then our group came charging around the corner, arms linked together, shouting chants, and energized the crowd amazingly. (I had heard the cheers but didn't realize that that was the reason until I was told after my release.) We sat down between the loading dock and the 7th Street sidewalk. As we took our places, I saw a federal marshal with a barking, jumping dog of a breed I can't name. My support person started shouting at him, "What's that dog? What's it doing? Get that dog out of there!" It didn't scare me because it wasn't a pit bull, rottweiler, german shepherd, or doberman pinscher; also, I had many layers of clothing on because we thought we might be sitting in the cold rain for several hours. I was excited, scared, nervous, and experiencing a kind of tunnel vision when I sat down on the wet pavement. Facing the street, with the federal building's loading dock behind me, all I could see were cameras and microphones. Someone from WHYY-FM, an NPR affiliate, started asking questions but I couldn't answer very well. I hope I didn't sound like a moron. I think I got our message across. I don't know if my comments were broadcast. I can see my group in the WPVI-TV video stills and clip on that station's website, so I guess I was on TV at noon. The men in our group were more trouble to arrest due to their size -- I'm just over five feet tall and not very heavy -- so I'm only visible on the end of our group, on the other end from the camera's location. While we waited for our arrest, we started shouting things like "the whole world is watching" and "hey, feds, whaddaya say, go home, call Bush, stop the war today." A police officer came out after we had been sitting for just a moment and started reading from a slip of paper. We started chanting louder and I couldn't hear him. They gave us warnings and we did not leave, so we were arrested. After I was lifted from the loading dock, they cuffed me very tightly (I complained, and at this writing 24 hours later I still have a sore spot at the joint where my left thumb joins my wrist), and photographed us with a Polaroid camera. At one point the two officers in control of me were trying to pull me in opposite directions, not painfully, but in a way that made me worry that one or both would think that I was attempting to resist arrest. I told them they were pulling me in different directions, but they never really coordinated their movements until after my photo was taken. They took us down the ramp under the building, patted us down, and tossed food and water that we had with us -- literally tossed, against a wall across the way from where we stood. We were taken, still cuffed tightly, to the third floor to our holding cells, about 8 feet by 12 feet. From the time they cuffed me until we arrived at the cells, I told the various marshals that the cuffs were "extremely tight" on my left hand, but they did not remove them until everyone in our group was upstairs in the building and getting all our cuffs cut off. Following are a couple of URLs showing some photos and video of the action. In the newspaper article, the photo shows the group that was arrested immediately after we were. They had arrived a moment after we did to sit down with us at the loading dock entrance. You can see, in both the video and especially in the philly.com photo, federal marshals using force on "pressure points" on the protesters, who were absolutely non-violent and had assumed "postures of stillness," not any kind of movement or resistance. (These URLs may expire soon after the event.) http://abclocal.go.com/wpvi/news/03202003_nw_protestors.html http://www.philly.com/mld/inquirer/news/local/states/pennsylvania/ cities_neighborhoods/philadelphia/5443272.htm As we greeted one another arriving in the cells, still full of adrenaline and talking excitedly, we were told that we had to stay quiet and calm, or else they would strip-search us and put us in actual metal cuffs or chains. The marshals pointed at the cuffs and chains on the floor outside our cell, and one would jangle chains from time to time as he walked by. Later I heard from the men that one of them was threatened and talked to with homophobic taunts and threats, and another was kneed in the stomach. One of the men's handcuffs were cinched so tightly that his entire right arm swelled up, and he needed some kind of medical attention (upon release he was fine). The marshals also told us women that if we got too rowdy they would send us to the Camden, New Jersey, detention center -- an attempt to scare us with images of a jail filled with rougher criminals in a socio-economically depressed city. The marshals would refer to us as a group as "ladies," "girls," or "females." Individually, we would be addressed as "miss," "ma'am," or "hon'." The men were referred to as "the males." The women ranged in age from 18 to 88. The block of cells comprised two rows of four cells, the doors opening to hallways on the outside. The women were held in one row of cells and the men were on the other side. The back wall of their cells met the back wall of our cells. We spent the next two hours after my arrest by greeting new arrivals and singing protest songs. Every once in a while the marshals would advise us to be more quiet, but the threats of strip-searching and chains were not used after the first hour. Each cell included a toilet and sink with a short metal privacy screen that provided very little privacy against any marshal or prisoner walking by the cell. About one hour later, we were taken in pairs to see a court employee who took some identification information from us, quizzing us on our employment, the time we had spent at our address, date of birth, and maybe something else. The next step was to receive our citations by talking to the officers who arrested us and showing some I.D. The citations were issued individually. Between each step we were brought back to the holding cells. At this point, there were 27 women packed uncomfortably into the cell I was in, which was about 12 feet by 8 feet. It was a challenge to find seats for the more elderly among us. However, we could hear the men singing, too, from around the corner, and it helped our sardine mood. After the citations were issued, we were loosely handcuffed in metal cuffs and taken in small groups to the courtroom, via the elevator and another holding cell. My support person on the outside had actually managed to get in touch with Tom and by some miracle he was directed to the correct courtroom in that large federal building. I learned later that the judge had to reprimand the prosecutor or the marshals for allowing some people to appear before her without having received their citations first. I was not invited to speak to her during my appearance, although she had given a few previous detainees the option of answering a question. Our fines: $250 each. We were all released on our own recognizance, except, I think, for one woman who refused to give her name. We were taken back downstairs where we waited about another half hour for the court appearances to finish up. We were called out in groups of ten or so, collected our coats and sweaters from the cells they had been left in, and were herded through a short maze of rooms, corridors, and doors. I saw the same dog from the loading dock behind a large glass partition of some waiting room that we went through. Finally we went down an escalator to the main lobby of the courthouse (attached to the federal building). Our arrival was cheered by support volunteers and loved ones. We cheered other detainees when they came down after us, too. Everyone was terribly hungry and thirsty. Tom and I got home about 4:30 p.m. Eleanor had been staying with a neighbor. The court will send me some kind of paperwork in the mail and I will have to pay my fine or face some further citations and/or jail time. Today, Friday, Baghdad is on fire and emergency vehicles can't get to people in need. All I have to complain about is a sore wrist and a few days' pay I'll lose when I pay my fine. -- -Michele G.
