www.lewrockwell.com/orig3/monahan1.html
Once upstairs, the officers made me remove my shoes and my hat and tossed me into a cell. Yes, your airports have prison cells, just like your amusement parks, train stations, universities, and national forests. After a short time I received a visit from the arresting officer. You see what passes for reasoning among your domestic shock troops these days? Only "whackos" get angry over seeing the woman theyve been with for ten years in tears because someone has touched her breasts. That kind of reaction - love, protection - its mind-boggling! An hour later, after Id been gallantly assured by the officer that I wouldnt be attending my friends wedding that day, I heard Marys voice outside my cell. He wasnt going to come over and help me work on my car or move some furniture. No, his "favor" was this: Hed decided not to charge me with a felony. Rapes, car-jackings, murders, arsons - those are felonies. In addition, I was banned from Portland International for 90 days, and just in case I was thinking of coming over and hanging out around its perimeter, the officer gave me a map with the boundaries highlighted, sternly warning me against trespassing. Then he and a second officer escorted us off the grounds. Mary and I hurriedly drove two and a half hours in the rain to Seattle, where we eventually caught a flight to Vegas. But the officer was true to his word - we missed my friends wedding. The fact that hed been in my own wedding party, the fact that a once in a lifetime event was stolen from us - well, who cares, right? Upon our return to Portland (Id had to fly into Seattle and drive back down), we immediately began contacting attorneys. It doesnt matter though, because we couldnt afford a lawyer, it turned out. So we called the ACLU, figuring they existed for just such incidents as these. A week or so later I got a response from the Director of Aviation. After telling me how, in the aftermath of 9/11, most passengers not only accept additional airport screening but welcome it, he cut to the chase: "After a review of the police report and my discussions with police staff, as well as a review of the TSAs report on this incident, I concur with the officers decision to take you into custody and to issue a citation to you for disorderly conduct. Id like to say I couldnt believe it, but in a way, I could. Its seemingly becoming the norm in America - lies and deliberate distortions on the part of those in power, no matter how much or how little power they actually wield. The gist of his report was this: From the get go I wasnt following the screeners directions. When Id completed the physical exam, I walked to the luggage screening area, where a second screener took a pair of scissors from my suitcase. He required the assistance of a second officer as he "struggled" to get me into handcuffs, then for "cover" called over a third as well. It was only at this point that my wife began to cry hysterically. There was nothing poetic in my reaction to the arrest report. I didnt crumple it in my fist and swear that justice would be served, promising to sacrifice my resources and time to see that it would. Clearly the officer didnt have the guts to write down what had really happened. It might not look too good to see that stuff about the pregnant woman in tears because shed been humiliated. Instead this was the official scenario being presented for the permanent record. It doesnt even matter that its the most implausible sounding situation you can think of. True, the TSA staff had expropriated a pair of scissors from our toiletries kit - the story wasnt entirely made up. I didnt know anything about any scissors until Mary told me on our drive up to Seattle. Theyd questioned her about them while I was in the bowels of the airport sitting in my cell. So I wrote back, indignation and disgust flooding my brain.
Memory is imperfect on everyones part, but the footage wont lie. I realize it might be procedurally difficult for you to view this, but if you could, Id appreciate it. No explosion over the discovery of a pair of scissors in a suitcase. One of his employees had made the damning statement about me exploding over her scissor discovery, and the officer had deftly incorporated that statement into his report. We asked the guy if he could find out why shed said this - couldnt she possibly be mistaken? He just wanted to inform us that hed received corroboration of the officers report from the officers superior, a name we didnt recognize. Due to the tenacity of my wife in making phone calls and speaking with relevant persons, the "crime" was eventually lowered to a mere citation. I wouldve simply accepted what was being thrown at me, trumped up charges and all, simply because Im wholly inadequate at performing the kowtow. Theres no way I could have contacted all the people Mary did and somehow pretend to be contrite. Besides, I speak in a low, forced voice, which doesnt elicit sympathy. Weeks later at the courthouse I listened to a young DA awkwardly read the charges against me - "Mr. I dont care if its twelve cents, thats money pulled right out of my babys mouth and fed to a disgusting legal system that will use it to propagate more incidents like this. When we returned to Los Angeles there was an envelope waiting for me from the court. No, it was a letter telling me that what I actually owed was $309 - state assessed court costs, you know. Wouldnt you think your taxes pay for that - the state putting you on trial? The week before wed gone to the airport my wife had had her regular pre-natal checkup. The child had settled into the proper head down position for birth, continuing the remarkable pregnancy shed been having. Shed read dozens of books, meticulously researched everything, and had finally decided that this was the way for her. No drugs, no numbing of sensations - just that ultimate combination of brute pain and sheer joy that belongs exclusively to mothers. But my wife is also a first-time mother, so she has what is called an "untested" pelvis. Essentially this means that a breech birth is too dangerous to attempt, for both mother and child. Therefore, shes now relegated to a c-section - hospital stay, epidural, catheter, fetal monitoring, stitches - everything she didnt want. Acupuncture, chiropractic techniques, underwater handstands, elephant walking, moxibustion, bending backwards over pillows, herbs, external manipulation - all to no avail. When I walked into the living room the other night and saw her plaintively cooing with a flashlight turned onto her stomach, yet another suggested technique, my heart almost broke. I can never prove that my child went breech because of what happened to us at the airport. Wrongly or rightly, Ill forever think of how this man, the personification of this system, has affected the lives of my family and me. When they remove her uterus from her abdomen and lay it on her stomach, Ill be thinking of him. When I visit her and my child in the hospital instead of having them with me here in our home, Ill be thinking of him. When I assist her to the bathroom while the incision heals internally, Ill be thinking of him. I dont know how many Ive read where the writer describes some breach of civil liberties by employees of the state, then wraps it all up with a dire warning about what we as a nation are becoming, and how if we dont put an end to it now, then were in for heaps of trouble. Theres no election thats going to put a halt to the onslaught of tyranny. Its here already - this country has changed for the worse and will continue to change for the worse. There is now a division between the citizenry and the state. When that state is used as a tool against me, there is no longer any reason why I should owe any allegiance to that state. And thats the first thing that child of ours is going to learn. December 21, 2002 Nick Monahan works in the film industry. He writes out of Los Angeles where he lives with his wife and as of December 18th, his beautiful new son.
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