| Greetings to my Fellow Fathers in Exile,
Friends, Activists,
What a year....1998! I’ve always figured
life would become more beautiful as time went on ... but I was wrong. You may or may not
have heard about the latest adventures of the Political Prisoner/Activist from the Purple
Heart House. In April, May and June the LAPD Gestapo invaded and searched the Purple Heart
House without warrants. Each time, their excuse was... someone had called who was worried
about me. On June 19, 8 LAPD Storm Troopers kidnapped and handcuffed
me ...without arrest or warrants and held me for three days over Fathers Day weekend
in the cuckoo’s nest. Thanks to the dozens of you great activists from all over the
world who called me and gave support and good humor while I was there.
Then, on October 22, the Child-Support Nazis led by Herr Judge Ronald
R. Schoenberg and a very masculine --- but chubby Deputy District Attorney name of Debra
Lamb... insisted I sell the Purple Heart House to pay
child support. It’s verrrrrrrry
interesting that when Debra Lamb sees the X-wife in court, she runs to her with open arms
and mouth ... hugging, kissing and thanking her for all the phone calls and faxes.
Verrrrrrrrrrry interesting!
The evil judge asked if I had sold the Purple Heart House yet to pay
child support. I told Herr Schoenberg I had not seen my son nor heard his wonderful voice
in more than 920 days and that his mother, the Princess, has a new Lexus and a
$15,000-face lift.
"Schoenberg" said that didn’t
matter. He asked again, "Have you sold the house?" I pled ...if the house was
sold, I’d be homeless and showed documentation from a Realtor that proved, if sold,
there would be only $9,000 left after realtors costs. "Da Judge" did not care
that I would be homeless. I then offered to wash dishes or do anything if it would keep me
out of jail. Ronnie the Judge said, "You had a chance...it’s too late." He
sent me straight to Debtor’s Prison.
I’ve been denied due process, never allowed a jury trial and the
D.A. refused the Deposition Subpoena we legally served him. For the sake of JUSTICE, it
was necessary for me to have all my discovery in hand. Rather than allowing fairness and
justice, the D.A. had a giant stack of papers ...the whole history of my life, while I sat
there with one sheet of paper.
Just imagine the thousands of tax-payers
dollars the district attorney has spent in trying to get my $350. per month. That 350
wouldn’t even cover the X-wife’s weekly beauty-parlor visits.
The D.A.’s detectives have been at the Purple Heart House several
times interviewing neighbors and friends and had photographers here twice to shoot rolls
of film of the Purple Heart House for the judge.
The courtroom Deputy handcuffed my right wrist to my wheelchair and
rolled me out of the courtroom down the hall into a room where they fingerprinted me and
wheeled me into a 25’ X 25’ prison cell.
There I met my first orange-jail-house-uniformed "homies", a
heavily tattooed 23 year-old Mexican who had been charged in a murder/drug deal gone
bad....and an African-American who had held up a convenience/liquor store.
It was freezing cold in the cell and my new jail-mates and friends who
referred to me as the "white dude in the wheelchair" were both doing push-ups to
keep warm. My old Arthritic spine was clicking and throbbing or I’d have been
exercising with them. After about a half an hour, someone opened the heavy metal door
about a foot and threw us some pre-packaged month-old dog meat on a dry bun and a little
carton of Grape-flavored drink... ("no juice added" was printed under the
label). After awhile, Gonzalez and Laverne were taken away and I was left alone, waiting
for transportation to my next destination, LA County jail.
The most lasting memories of the experience in custody of the LA
County Sheriff’s Dept. is the rudeness, hostility and vulgarity of Deputy Sheriffs.
Room-Temperature, deceased, and now, underground-Sheriff "Shermie" Block’s
corrupt old department is in serious disarray and under investigation since the deputies
are suspected of murdering several hand-cuffed men while in their care. (Shermie Block was
present at my miserable wedding in 1983... and was one of "The Witch’s"
{a.k.a.} my X-mother-in-law’s best connections. The Witch always used Deputy
Sheriff’s as her body-guards and had ten speeding tickets a year which Shermie always
fixed for her.
(How do YOU spell C O R R U P T I O N ?)
Note to Sheriff Lee Baca: Be cautious of one Aged Witch (my X-Mother in law), with
butt and legs like a Sumo Wrestler, bribe-money in hand, driving big Mercedes...
California plates... TEXAS 90!
Of all the dozens of Deputy Sheriff-Guards
observed during my "Debtors prison Hell," only four of them had any sense of
kindness. Only those four showed any empathy or treated us as if we were human. The
majority of the deputies emulated the childish, bullying tactics of gang-members but were
dressed in LA County Sheriff Department uniforms. The guards were more vulgar, cruel and
low-classed than any of the inmates I met.
Is it possible those prison guards are so mean-spirited and depraved
because they’re not smart nor talented enough to get any other kind of job?
They’re sentenced to a life term of going to prison every day while most of the rest
of the prisoners were in County Jail for a temporary stay. As for this "child support
prisoner" ... and the only
child support father I heard of during my incarceration,
I’ll probably be sent back to debtor’s prison since I have offended
"Hitler". There were 8000 inmates, murderers, burglars, thieves and
rapists… and I was in jail with them for being a couple thousand dollars behind in
child support. Could this be because I was an outspoken Fathers Rights ACTIVIST?
My fellow fathers.....even though you’ve been a great citizen for
all of your life, if you are captured by the
child support Gestapo, you will no longer be
treated as human beings. You will be housed with murderers, 3-strikers, lifers ... the
real scum of the earth. You become "last-name and last three" which means when
they address you, you yell out last name and three last numbers of prison I.D. number.
Being a victim of the Child Support Gestapo will be one of the most humiliating and
degrading experiences of your life.
At the booking session, a deputy made me remove my courthouse clothing
and gave me jail house blues to wear...and a pair of size 11 moccasin-like-shoes (11 is
the largest they have) and a package containing toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, comb,
shampoo, {...everything made in China.} I then sat in my wheelchair for 5 hours watching
the incredible parade of about 200 criminals of various types-in-chains march by before
anyone fingerprinted me. The trustees threw us all another dog-meat sandwich and this
time, with orange juice {"no juice added"}. Finally, someone wheeled me to one
of the information windows where they asked me personal questions to make sure they
wouldn’t get me mixed up with anyone else.
There was a shrink with a Polish accent who interviewed me for a
while. It was surreal with this insane-looking man asking me, "Arrrrre you
deprrrrressed?"
"What the hell do you think, Doctor? I’m a
singer/singing-teacher in jail with murderers, haven’t seen my son for 900 days and
my spine hurts like hell! You get three guesses!"
The doctor showed me a list of dozens of drugs
he offered for depression and seemed very disappointed that I declined to take his dope.
"Doctor...wouldn’t you be depressed if you hadn’t seen your child for 900
days? I don’t believe in taking any kind of dope. My life will turn around some day
and I don’t want to be stoned when that happens."
I wasn’t housed with the general population of the jail but
rather in the Hospital ward with hundreds of criminals with gunshot and stab wounds, limbs
missing...and various other ailments. There were many stories boasting about how they lost
an arm or leg...or how they got the wounds.
Being here in this ludicrous zoo seemed like a bizarre dream... rather
like a real life episode of the TV show COPS since just that very morning I’d kissed
my Joanie good-bye and told her I’d see her later today. I couldn’t believe that
"Hitler" would send me to jail for being $6000. behind in
child support. I know
dozens of men who don’t get to be fathers to their children, who are also paupers,
living in their cars and tens of thousands in arrears....but have never been incarcerated.
We with Severe Degenerative Joint Disease/Osteo-Arthritis in a spinal
fusion are not supposed to sit for more than a couple hours at a time but it took about 11
hours before I was wheeled to the Hospital ... 1100 ward .... for crippled criminals.
After those hours of sitting in the wheelchair, it was impossible to walk. A deputy and
two trustees rolled me to a room, helped me from my wheelchair into a very old hospital
bed with the side bars missing.
Although the mattress was hard as a rock, had only a sheet on the
bottom and one blanket, it was still a relief to be lying down. Spinal patients usually
sleep with several pillows between the legs and all around us but there were no pillows in
this 10-bed-cell. One new cell-room-mate explained why there were no pillows. "So we
won’t smother each other."
My new "homies" consisted of one 65 year-old Hispanic man
who said he spends several months every year in jail because of his drug habit... and 8
African-Americans aged from 28-64. All my new cellmates were very cordial and helpful to
me...far more so than the guards.
Although I’ve sung in lots of nightclubs
run by Mafioso and for many who had bragged about killing people, this was my first
experience in personal contact with men who were actually in prison for murder. It was
fascinating that most of them had been in jail several times and it seemed they were very
comfortable with their life behind bars.
Each shared their stories of being released on parole but, within just
a few weeks, had been arrested again and returned to the comfort and safety of the County
Jail Hospital.
There was an interesting system of community in
just that 10 bed-room. One man was looked to as the legal brain and was kept busy
answering judicial questions and dispersing advice.
He was a bright, cordial fellow in his late thirties whose family had
been involved with great old jazz musicians... Duke Ellington, Lionel Hampton and others
so we had a lot of music history in common. He’d spent most of his life behind bars
but never explained why...but it may have been for impersonating a Liar/Lawyer. I mused
that all my new family-members, cellmates, were here for countless felonies but they
trusted another felon to advise them with legal matters. I was sure his advice was more
honest and helpful than that of my 7 attorneys (who should be in prison) who’d stolen
thousands of $$$$$ from me... but this man’s wisdom could be purchased for the
minimal price of food or coffee.
Another of my roomies was a 38 year-old who had fathered 7 kids by 7
different women, none of whom he had married. He volunteered the fact that his oldest son,
a 20 year old, was in the adjoining jail about to go on trial for murder.
Here in the old part of LA County jail, the
usual pre-packaged dog food on bun and "juiceless" drinks seem to be the main
course...but coffee seems to be the most important commodity in the jail hospital. I, at
this advanced age, have never tasted coffee so I had the luxury of trading all my coffee
for food or milk (if they had it.)
The old-timers there are very inventive since they have
"stingers"... two wires wound together, one end inserted into the electrical
outlet, the other end into a cup to boil water for coffee. When the Gestapo find the
stingers, they confiscate them but the inventors just take wires from the bed springs and
make new ones. Although I’ve never been a bleeding heart for criminals or
inmates...or coffee drinkers, it bothered me that the authorities would take such a simple
pleasure away from men who have very little to enjoy. Wouldn’t attitude be better in
jails if each room was allowed to have a right to heat their water for coffee?
Since milk and any kind of fruit juice is my staple drink, I always
used my cups of coffee to trade for anything edible that others had. It’s amazing
what you’ll eat when you’re really hungry and I was eager to devour anything
they served me... food I would’ve never considered safe to eat before this
experience. There were cockroaches scurrying around on floors, walls, ceilings...from
behind the sinks, toilets and everywhere else. Watching those little critters hustle
around the room was our entertainment as we gagged on our food.
The only advantage of the Old Jail is that they have telephones in the
rooms. You’re allowed to call collect to outside people....hoping that you find a
friend near the phone.
Joanie was my only pipeline to the outside
world and she suffered far more than I because she knows the evil that happens to us
fathers in this corrupt-court system. The only positive thing to look forward to was
hearing her wonderful voice. Our phone conversations, always with several men listening,
gave me the opportunity to inform her about the evils of the Gestapo and conditions in
County jail to pass on to activists.
(Note for new Federal Lawsuit... Not one toilet
in County jail hospital is Handicap accessible!!!! )
I was at the Old Jail Hospital for only four
days but it seemed like a lifetime. On the second day, a Gestapo-type named Leefler opened
the door and yelled..."ROBIN"...last name and three... Robin...you have a
visitor!" I told him I didn’t want to see anyone and no one knew I was here. He
yelled, "Get the fuck out here...you have a visitor". I struggled to get into my
wheelchair and rolled out to the hall where he was shouting....explained I didn’t
want to see anyone because I was humiliated by being in jail ...but was curious, "Who
wants to see me?" He growled, "Someone says if you will sign a paper for your
property, you’ll get out of here."
No way!!! I thought sure it was the masculine female D.A. who had come
to make a deal...so I refused to go. Gestapo Leefler was absolutely insane with anger that
I refused to see my visitor. I was sure he was going to hit me but I just wheeled back to
my bed.
In a few minutes, three trustees and a deputy came in with an old
gurney from the 1940’s, loaded and rolled me down to the X-ray department. They
brought another dog-food bun with cool-aid and I closed my eyes for a few minutes. When I
opened my eyes, someone had stolen those nice Chinese shoes. When a deputy walked by, I
mentioned someone had hoisted my shoes. He said, "What do you expect...you’re in
jail with criminals!"
It was 4 hours on this gurney-board before they got around to the
X-Rays. The "job-for-life-bureaucrat-technician" was rude and impatient but when
she looked at the pictures she laughed outloud... "Your spine looks like a Chinese
Pagoda!"
When the trustees returned me to the 1100 floor, Nazi Leefler was
there waiting! The trustees were heading toward the old room but Leefler yelled
out...."No...no...no...put him in 1105." The trustee answered, "But
that’s the Hole...that’s Detention!" Leefler yelled, "Put him in
1105!"
Here I was...singer/singing teacher... second
day in stir, in the can, in the tank, up the creek... can’t walk, can’t
sit...and I’m already in the HOLE with men who misbehaved in the hospital! This was
getting to be very interesting! Now I was in a room with four more interesting characters.
My new mates were real good to me but yelled at the guards constantly
that the "white dude" didn’t belong with them in detention cuz he
"dint do nuthin’ wrong!" One of my new room-mates who bragged how rich he
had been and how brilliant... was in the tank because he had given a forged check to the
courts to pay for his girlfriend’s bail. Talk about a candidate for the world’s
DUMBEST CRIMINAL!
He was very clever, though, because someone always delivered him a new
newspaper and other contraband...but the rest of us usually got to read papers that were a
few days old. He also had a bag full of so many kinds of drugs it looked like the Pharmacy
at Costco. He offered me some powerful sleeping pills but I declined his offer since
I’m a health nut and figured if I got sleepy enough, I’d sleep.
I begged them not to yell and draw attention to me or I’d be in
here for life. They were a wild bunch that I would have enjoyed during my years on the
road, but right now I needed peace and quiet since there is never really a chance to sleep
in jail hospitals. They keep the lights on 24 hours a day and the toilets flushing every
few minutes are the noisiest in the world.
Those two nights in the HOLE were the most sleepless nights ever
(except for my vacation in the nuthouse)…
because my homies played cards and drank coffee all night and slept all day. Day 4 ... 5
A.M. or so... after breakfast, some trustees and deputies arrived with that same old
hard-wood gurney and said I was being transferred to Twin Towers...the new jail hospital
facility. Leefler was there with a couple other Nazi’s who yelled at me ... "Who
called the Watch Commander...who reported us?" I was sure they were going to beat the
hell out of me. I found out later my Joanie had called the Watch Commander and reported my
mistreatment and got me out of HELL!
In just a few minutes, I was on the way via gurney out of the DISGRACE
known as L.A. County Jail just a few hundred yards away into a whole new world called Twin
Towers. It was as if we were entering a totally different planet. The walls and ceilings
were new, the windows clean, the floors...sparkling, squeaky and scrubbed. Not one
cockroach visible. Even the guards and nurses here seemed more cordial, better dressed and
cleaner. The trustees wheeled me into a brand new room. It looked just like a real
hospital.
THANK YOU JOANIE! I figure Leefler would have
killed me if I’d stayed in his hellhole any longer. That miserable wretch has serious
mental problems. I wrote a very detailed letter to the new sheriff about those hateful
deputies……but I suspect very little will be done about it.
The quality of my new roommates was not much
different but they were treated a bit more as patients in a hospital. In the bed to the
left was Jose, a 22 year old Salvadoran who was involved in a drug deal and a double
murder. He’d been shot in the genitalia and was paralyzed from the waist down. He had
open wounds and bags attached to collect his body fluids. To my right was Kevin, a 29 year
old red-neck biker type fellow from Lancaster, CA, who’d stabbed two women and was
shot gunned in the gut by their grandfather. It was obvious he had an interesting life
since the tattoos on his arms were of Marijuana plants. He had an open wound where you
could see his intestines if you cared to look. He’d been at the hospital for about 6
weeks during which he had lost 40 pounds. Of course, with his guts hanging out, it was
probably hard to keep food down. He also wore a couple colostomy bags.
Across the room, in the place of honor (we referred to his as
"Godfather") was a 74 year old Jewish man ...accused of embezzling 5.2 million
from investors….(all old rich friends.)
(OY-VAY - What a way to treat your friends!)
There had been warrants out for him and his wife since 1986 but he had been residing in
Britain. When they decided to visit relatives in the USA, the FBI, Scotland Yard and
Interpol met them at the Miami airport and both were sent to jail with a million dollar
bail each. What a shock that must have been! Irving kept saying... "We shoulda gone
through Mexico to get here."
Irving and Rachel had been here in LA County
Jail for 8 months and just the day before I arrived, Rachel had been bailed out by one of
their multi-millionaire show-biz friends. Irving was hoping they would do the same for him
soon. (Irving arrived at the jail in a $1200. Cashmere sport coat...but it had disappeared
from his property box..."What do you expect Irving...you’re in jail with
criminals...and criminal cops!")
He told us of big time directors and producers whom he had
mentored...now worth $600 million. (Jack and Marcy Carsey…Roseanne show, etc.)
"What kinds of friends are these?" He helped them to that kind of success, why
would they let him simmer in jail for 8 months?!" Irving was hoping all the witnesses
(his old friends) in his case were dead by now and he and his wife would be acquitted.
It seemed weird that this father in jail for
non-compliance with the Child Support Gestapo would have the opportunity to mingle with
such a diverse group of fellows. Murderers and all types of violent and non-violent
criminals became my friends.
Nearly everyone of us were imprisoned in one way or another
because of MONEY!
The criminals didn’t have it and tried to
get it ... and I didn’t have it and the system wanted it from me. It also occurred to
me that my stay in the Prison hospital probably cost LA County at least a year of
child
support they were trying to get from me.
The wonderful UNITED STATES OF AMERICA... Land
of the free and Home of the brave! Whatever happened to our beautiful country? Our once
most-perfect system has become dominated by insanity. Our leaders have allowed and
encouraged it to become perverted and corrupt. Our country becomes more and more like the
Totalitarian systems from former civilizations, which were destroyed from within. Each
year, America becomes more like Nazi Germany, Communist Soviet Union and all those other
degenerate systems that sucked the freedom from men, destroyed families and collapsed.
As an entertainer, a
teacher, a father, a citizen and an activist, I’ve always known that asking questions
and studying is what helps us gain knowledge. In my nightmarish adventures of 1998, by
asking questions of every man I met during my adventures in LA county sewer, I learned one
very important thing: Not one man I spoke to ....NOT ONE --- had a father in his life as a
role model, to guide him, to give him love and strength. NOT ONE! Not even Irving, the
millionaire embezzler! It’s my belief that you could interview every man in prisons
all over the world and the answer would nearly always be the same...."I NEVER HAD A
FATHER TO GUIDE ME ...or to show me the way to live as a man!"
It’s time for all those corrupt and greedy District Attorneys,
judges and politician/attorney types to take a good look at our country and what’s
happening to it. History is the greatest teacher of all and history has taught us that a
world without fathers in the home is destined for destruction.[*]
When I had done my time,
I realized that I would never ever have any respect for any judge or policeman ever again.
Why? Whether it was the LAPD who hauled me away to the nuthouse….or the Sheriffs
Department who brutalize everyone in the jails ---- they themselves are worse than the
inmates.
Two weeks after
being released was my next court date before Herr Judge Schoenberg.
During the two weeks between jail and that meeting, my brilliant
friends had prepared paperwork to DISQUALIFY him!!! Talk about pleasure. I had never had
that much fun in a very long time.
The plan was to surprise that little fellow on the bench. He called
the court to order……and on his bench were several piles of paper. He said,
"Mr. Robin, I have received several hundred letters from people from all over the
world about you. This has never happened before. At first, I was fearful that they may be
threats since many of these letters came to my home."
He continued, "When I read the letters, I realized they were
letters describing you as a loving father and peaceful man. One man in Rhode Island sent
me a tape of you and your son singing and playing ball. You are a really good father, Mr.
Robin. And after hearing you sing, you could get a job singing to pay the
child
support!"
At this time, the deputy approached the bench
with the paperwork of DISQUALIFICATION!
The judge looked at it … he was extremely bewildered. He had
never seen anything like it before. He said, "Court will take a short recess."
We watched him scurry off into his chambers
with my paperwork in hand. We figured he would get on the phone to the County Legal
Department to see what a Disqualification was all about.
About 10 minutes passed and His HONOR returned. He had a very
disorientated look on his face. He said, "Mr. Robin, I can no longer handle your case
since I have been disqualified. The court will notify you as to your next hearing."
I asked him if I could look at the letters he
had received and he allowed the DDA and me fifteen minutes to look at that incredible
stack of wonderful letters. I bawled like a little baby reading those letters from you
activists from all over the world.
I just could not believe anything like that was
possible. There were piles of letters from this incredible group of men and women---from
all over the world who had also been destroyed by the family court and
Child support
Gestapo.
Two days after my last hearing with Schoenberg,
he retired from the bench. Thank you, my dear activist friends ------- from the bottom of
my (Purple) heart!
Christopher Robin Sr.
Exiled Father, Former parent.
__________________
My Note:
It is ironic, even sadistically absurd. All of those men CR had met were
there largely because they never knew their fathers. Yet, CR had to spend time with
them because he wanted to and is not permitted to be a father to his son.
A few years ago I mentioned that particular circumstance (it is born out by
much research) to a friend who works as a psychological counseller and a nurse in a
Canadian maximum security men's prison. He decided to run a little test of his own.
Our friend omitted from the intake questionnaire the question pertaining to
whether a given prisoner's mother had had gout. He said that, anyway, virtually none
of the men he ever interviewed knew what gout was and what caused it. Our friend
substituted a question asking whether the prisoner had a father in his life when he was 18
years old.
Not too surprisingly (but it surprised him anyway, even though he had
expected the result) he found that of the prisoners he interviewed for the next little
while not one, not a single one, said that he did have a father
in his life when he was eighteen. They had all grown up fatherless.
For more information on the impact of fatherlessness check the
Table of Contents for Fatherhood.
—WHS
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