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Saturday, June 27, 2009

After Arrest: A Story

Today when referring to an event in the past it is always categorized as before arrest or after arrest, as the day that I was arrested everything in my life changed, and it changed forever. This is an after arrest story. It transpired when I was awaiting trial, in November of 2002.

In June 2002, the sale of my house went through and I moved my son, Alex, to South Texas. His father flew in, rented a U-Haul, and Alex and Robert, his father, drove with all of our household belongings to Corpus Christi. I stayed in the house for the last couple of weeks with only the few things that I intended to move to my mother's. By early July I was living in Brevard County at mom's place and Alex had settled into life in South Texas. I had to have some income, so I tried one job and then another. The first was driving a taxi in Brevard County, and that lasted all of 2 weeks – it's another story for another day. By early November, due to lack of choices in Brevard County, I responded to a newspaper advertisement for "sandwich makers" at a Subway in Cocoa Beach. The owner, Caroline, scheduled me for an interview.

I'll be honest – I didn't even know that people applying for fast-food minimum wage jobs had interviews. I thought that a person would just walk-in and be hired if they looked decent, but Caroline ran a tight ship. The application that I filled out asked if I had ever been convicted of a felony, and of course I checked the no box. During the interview Caroline asked me if I had ever been arrested – now this is actually illegal; regardless, I needed the job, so I answered. She asked questions about the case and I told her about what the Metropolitan Bureau of Investigation (MBI) had done to me. Caroline was silent for a moment and then informed me that I must have a second interview with her manager, Rob. I was puzzled because I had never heard of two interviews for such a job, but I agreed and she told me to return at 4pm the following day.

I arrived at Subway a few minutes early and Rob directed me to wait at a table. About ten minutes later he joined me and asked a few questions that led to more questions in relation to my arrest. When I first stated "MBI" this guy looked as if his world fell apart. He immediately stood-up, began pulling me out the front door, and spoke like a man in a panic, "Let's talk outside."

Rob and I walked to his vehicle and he explained a bit of his own story. He looked as if he was flipping-out, with eyes wide and mouth open – as if I'd walked into the place and pointed a gun in his face or something similar. Rob informed me that his father had died in Cape Canaveral Hospital six months earlier, just after his release from prison. He also stated that he was still, more than a decade later, on probation from the case. It all happened in the late-1980s. The conversation turned to particular agents and then the director of the MBI, William Lutz. When I said Lutz, Rob looked totally and absolutely horrified. Rob was pacing and talking at the same time. I don't believe that I have ever seen anyone look that scared in the course of any conversation. Rob told me a story:

"I was working as a bank manager at a bank in Orlando back then. My father was involved in smuggling drugs out at the port [Port Canaveral] and they accused me of laundering money for him. Bill Lutz was an agent back then. They took me to their offices and started drilling me about my father, but I just kept repeating that I didn't know anything about his business, money laundering, or drugs. Then out of nowhere, Lutz pulls out his gun and points it at my forehead – the barrel was less than an inch away! He screams: "NOW TELL US ABOUT YOUR FATHER OR I'LL BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT HERE AND NOW!" I closed my eyes. I really believed that he would do it. I thought I was going to die. With my eyes closed I stated again that I didn't know anything about my father and drugs. I flinched and opened my eyes. The gun wasn't at my forehead anymore. He didn't shoot, but I thought I was as good as dead. I really thought he was going to do it. He's nuts."

I informed Rob that I was taking my case to trial, but I'm not sure that he believed me. He gave me the job, though I only worked there for a couple of weeks as my son called me wanting to come back, and days later got on a Greyhound bus with several extra large boxes filled with his personal stuff. The bus had mechanical trouble and Alex and his boxes were transferred to a different bus that terminated in Jacksonville. So here it was the day before Thanksgiving 2002, and my son was stranded in Jacksonville. I was at work when Alex called, and told Caroline the problem, but she didn't care and stated that I had to work as scheduled and could not leave. I quit the Subway job and drove to Jacksonville to pick-up Alex.

After my acquittal in the case I went back to Subway to see Rob. I tried to get a sworn (notarized) statement from him, but his fear took-over and I never did receive it. I wanted his help to finally do something about the MBI, but the fact that Lutz was now (at that point) director, petrified Rob beyond description. I have just never seen anyone that horrified. Months later Rob was back in jail in Brevard County for a Violation of Probation. I was told that he developed a serious drug problem after the MBI mess with his father and his encounter with Lutz. Apparently Caroline had been dragging him to Church with her several times a week, but as he recalled that horrifying day at the MBI offices, the gun at his head, and the real fear (at least to him) that it could happen again, he regressed. I am sorry that I reminded Rob of his nightmare experience. If I could locate him I would help him.

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