This true story happened in Milwaukee, Wisconsin a few years back, but it is very revealing of what we’ll be up against when the prison doors are opened.
My son is a truck driver. He had been a long-hauler for many years but had recently reduced his route to a more local one which took him from the U.P. to Milwaukee and back daily.
On this particular occasion he had dropped off his load, picked up one coming to the U.P. He was headed north when he was pulled over by a Milwaukee city cop for tailgating the car ahead of him on US 41.
The one thing you don’t do at a traffic stop is unload your frustration on a city cop half your size, they have issues and no patience. My son, at 6’ 2”, about 280 pounds already having a bad day, learned that you don’t yell at a Milwaukee cop. He very quickly found himself lodged in the Milwaukee city jail and his rig impounded.
Dear son was escorted into a very busy, updated ancient building frisked, booked, finger printed, given an orange jumpsuit with matching plastic sandals, and thrown into general population holding. There waiting for him was “Bubba.” Big, beefy, bronze and tattooed, with a lot of silver ornaments hanging from his eyebrows and ears.
Milwaukee has a good size population of black and Spanish speaking people. And it seems, from the small sampling that I saw, they grow them large and mean down there. But I’m only 5’2” so everyone looks big and mean to me.
Anyway, Bubba heads for this white guy standing there practically shitting himself and offers to show him to a bunk. The next day dear son was presented before a judge. Back into his cell he waited his fate. When his eventual release came, he collected his belongings and was dumped out on the streets at 1:30 in the morning with only $25.00 left in his wallet. In the meantime, his employer had made arrangements to send a couple of guys to retrieve the impounded truck. They showed up late morning after a four hour drive from the U.P. to downtown Milwaukee. Dear son was able to catch a ride back with one of his coworkers. He had been fired so wasn’t allowed to drive the truck back. Needless to say his employer was pissed.
A couple days later my son calls to ask if we would go with him to his hearing at the Milwaukee City courthouse. If they lock him up he didn’t want his vehicle left where he parked it for however long he would be incarcerated. The courthouse parking lot charged $8.00 a day.
That’s how I got to see a world so very different than mine. I was definately out of my comfort zone. At the courthouse entry I was wanded, and my purse was run through the scanner 3 times and then dumped out on the conveyor because I had a jack knife in it. I thought they were going to freak. “I live in the woods,” I explained. Eventually, they suggested I rent a locker and put my knife in it until I leave the building. Which I did. I was able to appease the security gods after all.
Dear son had someone looking out for him the day of his hearing because he was given a fine to pay and sent on his way. Of course his, then, employer took the impound fee and paying two guys to rescue the tractor/trailer out of his last paycheck. It was an expensive lesson and one that he won’t forget for awhile. But I learned something too. Scary people aren’t just on TV. In the waiting area outside the courtroom I watched as human tragedies were paraded in handcuffs into and out of holding rooms waiting their turn to be presented before a judge. Lesser offenders that waited with me for their turn in front of a judge wore their court appearance as a badge of honor. They glowed with pride, no remorse, and no fear. They were to be moved up in social status ladder of their world. So sad. I can’t imagine being a policeman/woman in that atmosphere day after day for 20 years. And then I think about the soul sucking, generational environment that creates the human tragedy of criminals, drug addicts, gangs, and others in the first place. So very different from my world.
Michigan is home to 2 Federal prisons and 30 state facilities, of which the U.P. has 4.
The above life experience was my wake-up call. I started paying attention to Whitmer and Bidens plans to make decent citizens prey for the marauding masses when they cut off free money and decriminalize more crimes and criminals and defund the police.
On Target comes as a newsletter to my inbox once a month or so. This is a very worthwhile Michigan newsletter and I can’t encourage you enough to check it out if you haven’t already. They are on the frontlines fighting for Michigan gun rights. We need them!
Personally, I never liked guns. They scared me terrible until I learned how to operate them. I took lessons, learned how to take it apart and put it back together. Now they aren’t so scary. Target practice is now a great hobby. I’ve learned that firearms are a tool just like a power screwdriver or a hammer. My favorite is actually my 12 gauge shotgun. Sha shink as you rack a shell into the chamber. That sound will make anyone stop where they are in the middle of the night, if you get my drift.
Even if you never own a firearm we can’t let “them” dictate our personal safety. In my heart I believe it is why we haven’t been violently invaded by another country yet. The puppet masters already know that at least 3% of Michigan’s population would not let their firearms go peacefully into the crusher so they will legistalate us into complying by more and more laws and rules etc. We can use Communist state of Canada as an example.
Let me ask you this question; Do you live, is your residence somewhere along a line between Detroit and Chicago? Just sayin’, maybe you should consider a shiny black tool to wear on your person. You know, I’d think about it anyway.