Regardless of his beginning, it turns out that William Eric Freeman wasn’t much of a hero either. Because, while My Encounter With Danny Golden revealed he was poorly trained and incompetent, Eric Freeman was not only that, but he was also corrupt. My first encounter with Eric Freeman was not until 2001 and under circumstances that I am discussing only briefly because there are still outstanding legal issues, and injuries which trump any statute of limitation.
I do remember thinking that the “consequence” for revealing “classified” information seemed a little distant and out of context. There certainly wasn’t anything I could do, I didn’t know the person, didn’t know if the dossier was just a joke done in poor taste, or a metaphor for something I didn’t yet understand, or whether it could be taken seriously at all. And, since I was the only one in the classroom who saw the material, there was no temptation to discuss the contents with the teacher who showed she wanted none of it, or the other students, which probably would have deemed my assertions unbelievable anyway, thereby making me a fool in the eyes of my fourth grade peers.
Tell your friends, tell your neighbors, warn you enemies, call you relatives. Together, we can KICKBUTT! all the way to the White House and kick the fascists out once and for all.
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A cops job is dangerous. True enough. But, take another looks a the facts. Since 1880, 22 law enforcement officials have been killed in Madison County. In the last ten years alone, I’ve counted about 15 unnecessary deaths that were the result of jailer depravity, or excessive force by cops. A that rate, the cops have killed around 200 people – almost all of which were innocent or guilty of nothing serious. A track record of 22 cops to 200 innocent citizens isn’t very good. In fact, it’s goddamn unacceptable.
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Under the circumstances, someone less experienced and less mature than myself, might not have been able to read the wild-eyed officer as well, and there is no question that he was ready to shoot to kill. Someone else would’ve probably been dead. That was my assessment when it happened, and it still is today.
Isn’t killing a police officer serious? Of course it is, and I’m not making excuses for Albarran. But, the very fact that we have a civilized system that includes an organized method of determining the disposition of crime, and that that system includes police officers who go about doing their job – hopefully in a civilized manner – is the same system that by definition says that even convicts are not to be killed, or allowed to commit suicide, while in prison.
It’s impossible for me to believe that there are people who would actually call Toya Graham a hero. Of course, a parent should be concerned and even involved when their child is about to do something that could get them into serious trouble. On the other hand, if she had been a good parent to begin with, he probably wouldn’t have picked up the rock to begin with.
The “aggravations” that I mentioned, simply put, are that about half the state of Alabama is literally being run as a plantation; Alabama has a deeply corrupt legal system – led by Roy Moore – that is exploiting pseudo-religious cultism; and the fact that the Medical Industrial Complex is itself rampantly corrupt – especially in those areas of practice that are often subjective like psychological ailments.
I visited Oklahoma City in October of 1999 on a pilgrimage of sorts. Although I have already presented a slide show in a previous column about McVeigh and the bombing, I have added and recomposed the photos, which are now presented here. Wow. Looking at the calendar, I cannot believe it has been 20 years […]
Which really just leaves a bunch of unanswered questions. Who owns the property? Is there even any hope of restoring the building? How can the City ignore what has become not just an eyesore, but an extremely dangerous attractive nuisance? (There was a death in the building recently, about 2 years ago, that was investigated as a suicide.) Early Works recently indicated that funding has been received in order to do major renovations to Constitution Hall Park, but no mention of the Historic Huntsville Freight Building was made.
Not really paying attention to much of anything, I was suddenly alarmed by what I instinctively thought must have been a small bomb. I don’t remember exactly when all this occurred, excepting that it was not terribly long after 911 and I suppose my sensitivities where somewhat tuned to the new reality of “everything has changed.” When I looked up, almost right in front of me, just across the Big Spring canal and immediately beneath the Central Bank parking deck, there was a cloud of dust and what I first thought was smoke rising into the air.