Orleans Parish
Behind bars, under water
by Dylan
Sunday, June 24, 2007
This is my seventh week in NOLA. I’m taking a small vacation until the 26th. A friend flew down to visit me and we’re going to get some tourist points in. It’s much needed; I’ve been picking up a lot of new responsibilities around the site and the last week has been a roller coaster.
Saturday night I was arrested while playing capture the flag in the French Quarter with a group of about 20 volunteers. As I was passing by, an officer yelled after me, “how would you like it if I beat you to the ground with my baton next time I see you running on the sidewalk?”
I slowed down and continued walking away, not really sure how to respond. Especially since his partner and I had just agreed that we could finish our game that night. I heard the officer yell at me again to come back, then turned around to see him running after me. I apologized, said his partner had already talked to me, and asked if I was being detained. First mistake. Asking that question irritates most cops, but I wasn’t aware of just how things work in New Orleans. A lack of accountability, general political corruption in every sector, and the fact the that the police receive bonuses for arrests made. He cuffed me on the spot. I asked why I was being held. He said for public drunkenness. Explaining that I was sober, I asked to be given a breathalyzer and was literally laughed at.
After moving me to the squad car and taking my information, he started driving away. Wait a minute. Was I being arrested ?
That’s when I chose to exercise another legal right, which turned out to be my second big mistake. I asked for his badge number. He told me that for asking, he was charging me with public intimidation.
***
Orleans Parish Prison is the original House of the Rising Sun. I’d heard horror stories about the place, hundreds of inmates being left to drown during Katrina, lost files resulting in people being held for months for no reason, poor health conditions, poor food quality. I was held for three days without trial, receiving only one sandwich in the first 30 hours. I was luckier than some. I met a man who had waited 60 days before seeing a judge. It’s not unusual for the process to take a week.
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