May 24th, 2011 - Part 1

It's time I wrote about what happened to us on the night of May 24th, 2011.

Nicolle had been asleep for most of the night. She had been behaving strangely all evening, in and out of sleep. I can't exactly explain what was happening, it was something like being asleep and awake at the same time. She would wake up and not know who I was. I do know she had been on several depression medications prescribed by her doctor, both Prozac and trazadone, and had run out of both a day or two before. I have no idea exactly what was going on, but suffice it to say that I was very concerned, so I asked hotel security to call paramedics.

The paramedics came. They talked to her for a long time. They decided not to transport her with the firm understanding that I would not let her out of my sight. I would have preferred they take her in for evaluation, but they said no, and to call back if the situation got worse.

While all this was going on, I decided to try to get in touch with Nicolle's dad to let him know what was going on. I couldn't find my cell phone and didn't know his number, so I picked up the room phone, thinking I could get information from 1411. As I was doing this, before the call went through, I heard a female voice on the line who said something to the effect of "Go operation Alpha ____" I don't remember the last part of what the go code was. It freaked me out, so I hung up.

A few minutes after the paramedics left, two Dallas police officers showed up. One was black and one was white. They started asking questions and for ID. This had been a medical emergency, not a police matter, so I wasn't sure what they were doing there. Checking things out at the time I supposed. I didn't connect them with what I had heard on the phone at the time.

I couldn't find my wallet with my ID, and they stood over me as I dug around trying to find it. Never did. So, they got my SSN and told me to go wait in the lobby. This is about the time I started realizing something wasn't right.

While I was in the lobby, Nicolle says the white officer stood over her while the black officer started bustling around the room. She didn't know what he was doing, because he was keeping it out of sight. Eventually one of the officers came down to the lobby to get me and take me back up. When I got up there, I walked over to her and asked her, "Are you ok?". "SHE'LL BE FINE", the black officer said. "FIND YOUR SHOES." Ok, now shit is really starting to get weird. I had no idea what they had done while I was in the lobby. Nicolle said later that what they had done was force her to climb off the floor back into bed by herself. I didn't get the rest of the story until I got back.

The black officer informed me that I was going to jail. "For what?" I asked. "It appears you have a traffic ticket in Tarrant County." For the record, DPD does not have a policy of arresting people for traffic warrants in other counties. Normally they have enough to deal with.

So he handcuffs me and transports me to the county jail. The handcuffs were so tight that I couldn't feel my hands. Every time he hit a bump in the squad car, I screamed. I've been handcuffed before, and I know they aren't built for comfort, but this wasn't just uncomfortable. They were so tight that I had grooves around my wrists a quarter inch deep and couldn't type for a week afterwards. I still think I have nerve damage in the left side of my hand. I told him several times they were too tight and asked him to loosen them. He said, "Naw, they LOOSE". At one point I was in so much pain that I started squirming in the back of the police car. He told me that if he had to pull over "that I wasn't going to like it".

So we get to the jail. The white officer, who had been in a separate car, arrived. They made me carry my shoes, hancuffed, while holding up my pants, into Cental Booking at Lew Sterrett jail.

At this point, the black officer started asking personal history questions.. name, ssn, where I was born, and whether or not I had been in the military. Then, the white officer asked me the same questions, but filled out an identical form. Two officers, both independently filling out identical forms? WTF?

Nether of them ever even said "you're under arrest". No one ever read me Miranda rights. The only thing I got was "you have a traffic warrant in Tarrant county.

So I was booked in (supposedly). Saw a nurse. Told her I had diabetes. She took my blood sugar, which was a little high. So she put a white band on my arm, which means I am supposed to see a doctor.

I was seated in the waiting area. At this point I raised my hand, and the guards asked me what I wanted. I said, "I'd like to speak to a detective." So one of the guards said, "follow me".

I followed him. He lead me around the corner and straight into the drunk tank. He tole the guards in there, "This one can't sit still." And locked me in.

Now the drunk tank at Lew Sterrett is HUGE. It's probably 60 yards long and 30 feet wide. It's built to hold probably between 50 and 100 people. It is a significant chunk of real estate at the Dallas county jail and is probably usually crowded. On this night, I was the only SOB in there. At all. For hours.

I asked repeatedly to see a doctor. I was told no. I kept trying to call the hotel where Nicolle was to find out what was going on. I would get the front desk recording, and before I could punch the room number, the call cut off. Every time.

Finally, after several hours, I got through on one of the phones to what I thought was a bondsman, but he answered, "Attorney's office". I asked him "what kind of attorney are you?" "I'm a criminal attorney", he said. And before I could say another word, the door to the tank opened and some sort of riot squad came in. The told me to drop the phone and get in one of the side cells. "Well, I just got through to an attorney, can it wait a second?" "GET IN THE CELL!" they said. So I left the phone hanging and got in the cell. As they were walking out I said, "SO I GUESS THIS MEANS I CAN'T SPEAK TO AN ATTORNEY??" They ignored me and left.

I had now been in the tank for probably 4-5 hours. I had tried to call out many, many times and for some reason the calls kept getting cut off, busy signal, something. Every time. I got through to a bondsman one or two times, and asked them to call Nicolle at the hotel and give her a message, and through to the "attorney" once. This was out of about 20 calls I must have made.

Eventually someone came in and got me to take me out to court. When I walked out, I was hastily photographed, and some papers were stuck in front of me and the guy said, "these are you Dallas citations, sign these". Uh... I was never arrested for Dallas citations. I didn't even know I had any.

I was given a paper that set me to appear for a supposed bad check from God knows when. I had no idea what it was about or if it was even real. Could have been, I'm not perfect, but I sure as shit didn't know about it. The paper I was given said, "You are hereby released from Dallas County Jail" and it gave an appearance date. Ok, they're letting me go, I thought. I was wrong. So very wrong.

They took me over to stand in line for court. When I got there, I looked up. Now, I don't know if any of you know what police brass looks like.. you know, the Lieutenants, Captains.. the people with brass on their badges and hats. There were about 10 or 15 of them. AND THEY WERE ALL LOOKING AT ME. I nooded to one, and he nodded back. He had a funny look on his face.. not hate, more like.. respect?

Man, this business has definitely taken a turn for the surreal.

So I go to court. The judge goes over everyone else, and comes to me last. To me she says, "Mr. Hawkins, I don't even want to hear about that paper in your left hand. You have a traffic warrant in Tarrant County. Your bond is $500. They have 10 days to come get you and you are being held. I can't answer any questions." They gave me a piece of paper that had the bond amount on it with Euless PD (Euless is in Tarrant County). What the hell, the first paper I got says I was released. Now this paper says something different.

And there is something else I noticed. I had three pieces of paperwork by this time.. a property receipt, the citation to appear given to me by the fingerprint guard, and the judges paper. But none of them had any signatures!

Eventually I was taken upstairs to be dressed out for general population. I was in a holding cell up there for another.. 2 hours or so. There are no clocks in this place so I don't have an accurate account of the time, so I'm guessing. But that's probably pretty close.

Then they put me in line for dress out. I was last. At this point, something weird started happening. The guards would count the people in line, then go look at a piece of paper. Then come back and count. Then look at the paper. The count was off. Someone was there that wasn't supposed to be. Guess who that was. ME.

The nurse came around to give TB shots. I showed her my white armband and said, "Ma'am, I was supposed to see a doctor hours ago. Can you help me with that?" "Did you just get here?" she asked. "No, this paper says I've already been released. I don't understand what is going on. She looked at the armband, and had a look on her face that I will never forget as long as I live. It was a look of, "Oh shit."

I was taken into the dress out room, told to drop my paperwork, stripped, and forced to face the wall, bend over, open my ass up so the guard could look into it. When I turned back around I was handed a bag to put my blanket and stuff in. When I looked into the bag, I saw a piece of paper, I looked at it. It was one of my papers from court. I looked behind me. There were the other two papers. The sonofabitch guard had grabbed some of my paperwork and placed it in the bag when I wasn't looking. If I hadn't happened to notice what was in the bag and look behind me, I would have never seen the other paperwork and it would have been gone. I would never have had most of the record of me ever being in jail.

So I dress out. The guard is vicious and rude. And now apparently pissed that I caught him. He takes me out and sticks me in a holding cell by myself.

I'm in the cell for quite a while. No one comes to get me. FINALLY, I hit the button on the wall and tell them that I've been trying to see a doctor all day. I have diabeties. They say they'll send someone down.

So this guy.. don't know who he was.. what rank or whatever, comes down. He asked me what he could do for me. I tell him the whole situation, about not seeing a doctor, about not understanding why I'm in jail at all when I have a severely disabled adult at home who is probably by herself without anyone to take care of her. At this point I started crying.. not from anger or because I'm a pansy, but out of sheer frustration. I've been treated a dog all day and I've taken their best shots. But finally I just broke.

He said, "Okay, let me see your paperwork and I'll try to find out what's going on." he takes my paperwork and leaves. About 10 minutes later he comes back, and says, "Uh... heh.. well, it appears you were never supposed to be dressed out. The captain (I think he said Captain, not sure) said he was going to go ahead and release you. Just this once. As long as you take care of that warrant.

Nice try. If I was never supposed to be dressed out, why was he doing me a favor by releasing me? I was clearly never even supposed to be up there.

Oh, it gets better.

So I was taken to bookout to be released. I will never forget this as long as I live. While I was standing in line, I hear one of the guards say, "SERGEANT ON THE FLOOR!" The sergeant walk in, sees me and does a double take. He beats his chest like a football player and yells, "ROBERT HAWKINS! YEAH! LETS KEEP IT GOIN' BABY!!"

It was something like mad respect. What in the hell has just happened here.

I was released.

This post has gotten long, so I'll have to continue it in part two. You are not going to believe what I find out when I am released.