Please forgive my lack of organization. Right now I am still dealing with one of the worse symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - the inability to stay focused. One thing I must point out. The actual dates of entry are the dates within my writing, NOT as the blog notates. I have had to manipulate the blog dates so that my entries appear in the order I wish. I guess you can call that "working the system" and boy, have I learned how to do that. As with most blogs, if you want to follow the chronological sequence, start with the bottom blog and work up.
I am using this blog to help me see the Lord's hand in my life since I was falsely accused of battery by a TSA agent on April 16, 2009 and thrown into jail, while leaving my sweet 93 year-old mother stranded at the airport. If you are not familiar with my case, just click on the Summary of Events entry of this blog.
This blog is going to develop just as a tree shoots forth its leaves in the Spring. I will work on it when I have time. I will not be "obsessed" with it, however, as there are far more important things in my life, such as spending time with my husband, children, grandchildren, and surrounding myself with the good in this world. Believe you me, I have had enough of the evil thrown my way. I have not given up, no matter how rough the road has become. I have fought the good fight of faith. I know the truth will come forth, and I mean that in more ways than one.
Right now I am just trying to combine my journal entries, my e-mails, my phone conversations, etc. I have told John, my husband, that this story would make a great book and movie. The ironic thing about this is that John could be the best writer, producer and director. Right now, however, I do not have his support on that subject matter. Perhaps with time that will change.
One of these days, if enough Americans start to feel the way I do, we will have an uprising, hopefully a peaceful revolt, where we will put some "common sense" back into the way we do things in this country. If we all work together for good, we can make this the quality nation it has the potential to become. Our nation has become so corrupt with special interest groups, lobbyists, and politicians with their own personal agendas. It truly does make me sick and in many instances, ashamed.
I am concerned that the government is trying to prohibit blogging. I feel blogging is probably one of the greatest "inventions" made available to man for communications. I still do not understand it completely, but I will learn how to do it line upon line. I will not be responding to comments right now. I do not have time for that. I don't know if I can allow comments and let the individuals making comments communicate with each other through the blog. I am waiting for my dear friend Tim Malone, a guru at blogging, to clue me in on how this works.
Blog comments greatly helped my morale during the malicious endeavors of many. I greatly appreciated the efforts of the media (ie the Tribune, CBS, the John and Ken Show, the John Phillips Show, and KTLA)in helping to share with the world the horrific events I was having to face. It was the blog comments on their websites that gave me the drive to move forward steadfastly. So, to those who gave me encouragement, I once again say "Thank You."
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
I Am Gathering My Army - Does Anyone Want To Join?
I had an incredible thing happen today. I got a call from my son-in-law Matt, who has had some troubled times in his life but has learned his lessons well. He is in tune to the Spirit and I know that the Spirit bore testimony to him. I have not asked him about it yet, but my feeling is that Matt got the message: “It is hard to believe what Mom is telling you. Matt, you know Mom’s heart. You know she is a good person. Listen Matt, feel her spirit and act accordingly.” Matt has been blessed with a very special spirit. I can see and feel it when he bears his testimony. There is no denying the Spirit if one is open to feel it.
Matt had read my entry “My Eyes Are Open and My Heart Is Broken.” He took that giant leap of faith, called me, and said, “Mom, I read the blog. I just wanted to ask if there was anything we (Christina, my daughter, and Matt) can do to help?” Oh Matt, I hope you won’t ever regret asking me that question.
I have been fighting this battle for the last 1 ½ years mostly on my own. Some of my friends have tried to cheer me up. I deeply appreciate that and could not have made it this far without their words of encouragement. I indeed was a desperate woman (who sometimes has had a difficult time getting out of bed, let alone trying to “act normal” in front of her family so as to not split the family apart). I have had one person that has never left my side. That person is my Heavenly Father. Oh, I can feel the spiritual army of angels starting to take their positions now. My mother’s spirit has joined them as well (Mom passed away on March 28, 2010).
I feel like I am running a race. Time is of the essence. If I am going to succeed, I must move quickly. Unfortunately this temporal world has what’s called the “Statute of Limitations.” If I do not do the legal papers soon, I will have no recourse and will not be able to proceed…time will have run out.
I would really like to turn this legal issue over to a righteous attorney…one that fights for the truth and not only for material gain. Grant it, everyone has to put food on their table. I have no problem in someone earning their just reward. I will not put out any more of our family’s money. I will handle this pro se if I have to. The decision will be made in the next couple of days. I have 2 individuals in mind. Who will be chosen? Attorney 1, Attorney 2, or me? Stay tuned.
Matt had read my entry “My Eyes Are Open and My Heart Is Broken.” He took that giant leap of faith, called me, and said, “Mom, I read the blog. I just wanted to ask if there was anything we (Christina, my daughter, and Matt) can do to help?” Oh Matt, I hope you won’t ever regret asking me that question.
I have been fighting this battle for the last 1 ½ years mostly on my own. Some of my friends have tried to cheer me up. I deeply appreciate that and could not have made it this far without their words of encouragement. I indeed was a desperate woman (who sometimes has had a difficult time getting out of bed, let alone trying to “act normal” in front of her family so as to not split the family apart). I have had one person that has never left my side. That person is my Heavenly Father. Oh, I can feel the spiritual army of angels starting to take their positions now. My mother’s spirit has joined them as well (Mom passed away on March 28, 2010).
I feel like I am running a race. Time is of the essence. If I am going to succeed, I must move quickly. Unfortunately this temporal world has what’s called the “Statute of Limitations.” If I do not do the legal papers soon, I will have no recourse and will not be able to proceed…time will have run out.
I would really like to turn this legal issue over to a righteous attorney…one that fights for the truth and not only for material gain. Grant it, everyone has to put food on their table. I have no problem in someone earning their just reward. I will not put out any more of our family’s money. I will handle this pro se if I have to. The decision will be made in the next couple of days. I have 2 individuals in mind. Who will be chosen? Attorney 1, Attorney 2, or me? Stay tuned.
My Eyes Are Open - My Heart Is Broken
Friday, January 28, 2011
I had predicted to my family and close friends that something BIG was going to happen today…I could feel it in my bones. I was going to get proof or confirmation of my belief that Sergeant Ross with the Burbank Police Department was involved with the alteration of the video that was used to prosecute me. I did indeed obtain that. From that point on, however, my story, as it turned out today, is far different from the way I thought it was going to turn out.
Yes, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is real. I have lived through HELL the last 1 ½ years. It would have been far better to have been shot and killed by the police than to have to endured the trauma I have been subjected to. At least when you are dead you no longer can feel pain. It is indeed ironical that people sue for wrongful death and yet the person that was injured, terminally, is the dead person. NOTHING that is done will ever change that. And if the relatives left behind are hurting, no amount of money in the world can fix that either. I do understand the significance, however, of monetary judgements in the form of punitive damages. Hopefully such actions will discourage the guilty individual from continuing their corrupt behavior.
Let’s look at my experience from a different perspective. My injuries were caused by the City Attorney’s office, the Burbank Police Department, the Burbank Airport Police, and the good old federal government (Homeland Security). What these people did to me was totally illegal and unethical. They falsely arrested me, threw me in jail, altered the video evidence to make me look like a monster, and maliciously prosecuted me. By doing so, they not only made me look bad in the public’s eye, but the worse thing was that I felt betrayed by my own family members because they believed the video and felt my behavior was inappropriate. I kept trying to convince them that the “abusive” part of the video was fabricated, but they never would believe me.
This feeling of betrayal hurts so bad right now that I hope and pray that I will be able to get over it, and soon. I used to be a very happy, outgoing, loving wife, mother and grandmother. But that has changed. It hurts. Will I get better? I hope so but I do not know when. Yesterday is not fast enough.
First I was fighting to prove my innocence (which cost me over $20,000 and 1 ½ years of my life; I did get the case dismissed). Then TSA came after me civilly for $2500 for interfering with the screening process (which I did not do; they did by not allowing me to go through with my mom’s pre-approved food and beverage). After the criminal charges were dismissed, the civil case was also dismissed.
If the same identical case had happened with a private individual instead of a governmental entity (the TSA) I could have sued the pants off of them for false arrest and tampering with evidence (which is a felony). When such an incidence occurs, one presses charges with a legal entity (law enforcement officer, City Attorney, District Attorney, etc.). If their investigation shows that there is sufficient evidence, they proceed with the prosecution for and in behalf of "the people".
Here is what I learned today and what broke my heart. I thought that in America we had a system of justice. We have laws to protect us, the people. We say in the Pledge of Allegiance: “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”
We no longer have a justice system. Instead we have a legal system. It protects the government from ever being prosecuted. All governmental entities are in the same club; they have banded together and, like a gang, will not go against each other. So when an innocent person has been injured by a governmental entity, they need to start the “legal” process. One cannot make a claim, even pro se, and have the case presented before a judge and jury to be heard. Rather, it has to be initiated by a governmental entity. I can tell you right now they will always refuse to do so, just as they have done with me.
Oh, they will make it look good in the public eye. They will then say that after considering the evidence they did not find sufficient evidence to open an investigation. Road Block!!! You can go no further. They get off no matter how bad their actions. If the same action were to happen by another citizen, they would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law and imprisoned for their wrong doings. I have a new saying, and once again it holds true: “There is no such thing as common sense in this world today.”
I’m sorry, I find it nauseating to think that such a double standard is allowed to exist. The government can alter a video and make an innocent, loyal American citizen look like a monster. I have evidence that this was done to me. But I cannot prosecute because our governmental entities will not start the prosecution process. This is no longer a government “of the people, for the people, by the people.” It is indeed a government which I am no longer proud to be associated with. I truly do feel that if our founding fathers saw what is going on now, they would literally roll over in their graves.
Until major changes happen in our government, I will not be able to say the Pledge of Allegiance. My country has failed me. I believe in the motto “practice what you preach”. If you preach honesty, practice it. We are indeed being deceived by our government. I now see what the current conspiracy theories are all about.
Yes, I have had several attorneys willing to sue the governmental entities. Mary Frances Prevost filed a 5 million dollar claim with the federal government. She said, “Don’t worry about the alteration of the video. It is fine the way it is.” Now that my eyes have been opened I understand that what she meant to say was, “Don’t argue the authenticity of the video. If you do, they will throw it out completely. When they do that, you have no evidence other than hear say. You will not win.”
I am sorry, if I did that, I would be lying to myself. I would be pressing charges against someone and would be using evidence that I knew was falsified. That would be unethical and illegal. I have maintained from day one that I will stand for truth and righteousness. I will live that standard until the day I die.
It is getting late and I need to go to bed. I am weary. My heart is broken. I hope I will be able to heal to the point that I can at least find joy and love with my family. My country has indeed let me down. The only way I will be proud to be an American again is if the United States of America changes and upholds the same standards I have…maybe I should run for President of the United States? That’s an interesting thought. I’ll blog on that idea another time.
Good night.
I had predicted to my family and close friends that something BIG was going to happen today…I could feel it in my bones. I was going to get proof or confirmation of my belief that Sergeant Ross with the Burbank Police Department was involved with the alteration of the video that was used to prosecute me. I did indeed obtain that. From that point on, however, my story, as it turned out today, is far different from the way I thought it was going to turn out.
Yes, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is real. I have lived through HELL the last 1 ½ years. It would have been far better to have been shot and killed by the police than to have to endured the trauma I have been subjected to. At least when you are dead you no longer can feel pain. It is indeed ironical that people sue for wrongful death and yet the person that was injured, terminally, is the dead person. NOTHING that is done will ever change that. And if the relatives left behind are hurting, no amount of money in the world can fix that either. I do understand the significance, however, of monetary judgements in the form of punitive damages. Hopefully such actions will discourage the guilty individual from continuing their corrupt behavior.
Let’s look at my experience from a different perspective. My injuries were caused by the City Attorney’s office, the Burbank Police Department, the Burbank Airport Police, and the good old federal government (Homeland Security). What these people did to me was totally illegal and unethical. They falsely arrested me, threw me in jail, altered the video evidence to make me look like a monster, and maliciously prosecuted me. By doing so, they not only made me look bad in the public’s eye, but the worse thing was that I felt betrayed by my own family members because they believed the video and felt my behavior was inappropriate. I kept trying to convince them that the “abusive” part of the video was fabricated, but they never would believe me.
This feeling of betrayal hurts so bad right now that I hope and pray that I will be able to get over it, and soon. I used to be a very happy, outgoing, loving wife, mother and grandmother. But that has changed. It hurts. Will I get better? I hope so but I do not know when. Yesterday is not fast enough.
First I was fighting to prove my innocence (which cost me over $20,000 and 1 ½ years of my life; I did get the case dismissed). Then TSA came after me civilly for $2500 for interfering with the screening process (which I did not do; they did by not allowing me to go through with my mom’s pre-approved food and beverage). After the criminal charges were dismissed, the civil case was also dismissed.
If the same identical case had happened with a private individual instead of a governmental entity (the TSA) I could have sued the pants off of them for false arrest and tampering with evidence (which is a felony). When such an incidence occurs, one presses charges with a legal entity (law enforcement officer, City Attorney, District Attorney, etc.). If their investigation shows that there is sufficient evidence, they proceed with the prosecution for and in behalf of "the people".
Here is what I learned today and what broke my heart. I thought that in America we had a system of justice. We have laws to protect us, the people. We say in the Pledge of Allegiance: “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”
We no longer have a justice system. Instead we have a legal system. It protects the government from ever being prosecuted. All governmental entities are in the same club; they have banded together and, like a gang, will not go against each other. So when an innocent person has been injured by a governmental entity, they need to start the “legal” process. One cannot make a claim, even pro se, and have the case presented before a judge and jury to be heard. Rather, it has to be initiated by a governmental entity. I can tell you right now they will always refuse to do so, just as they have done with me.
Oh, they will make it look good in the public eye. They will then say that after considering the evidence they did not find sufficient evidence to open an investigation. Road Block!!! You can go no further. They get off no matter how bad their actions. If the same action were to happen by another citizen, they would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law and imprisoned for their wrong doings. I have a new saying, and once again it holds true: “There is no such thing as common sense in this world today.”
I’m sorry, I find it nauseating to think that such a double standard is allowed to exist. The government can alter a video and make an innocent, loyal American citizen look like a monster. I have evidence that this was done to me. But I cannot prosecute because our governmental entities will not start the prosecution process. This is no longer a government “of the people, for the people, by the people.” It is indeed a government which I am no longer proud to be associated with. I truly do feel that if our founding fathers saw what is going on now, they would literally roll over in their graves.
Until major changes happen in our government, I will not be able to say the Pledge of Allegiance. My country has failed me. I believe in the motto “practice what you preach”. If you preach honesty, practice it. We are indeed being deceived by our government. I now see what the current conspiracy theories are all about.
Yes, I have had several attorneys willing to sue the governmental entities. Mary Frances Prevost filed a 5 million dollar claim with the federal government. She said, “Don’t worry about the alteration of the video. It is fine the way it is.” Now that my eyes have been opened I understand that what she meant to say was, “Don’t argue the authenticity of the video. If you do, they will throw it out completely. When they do that, you have no evidence other than hear say. You will not win.”
I am sorry, if I did that, I would be lying to myself. I would be pressing charges against someone and would be using evidence that I knew was falsified. That would be unethical and illegal. I have maintained from day one that I will stand for truth and righteousness. I will live that standard until the day I die.
It is getting late and I need to go to bed. I am weary. My heart is broken. I hope I will be able to heal to the point that I can at least find joy and love with my family. My country has indeed let me down. The only way I will be proud to be an American again is if the United States of America changes and upholds the same standards I have…maybe I should run for President of the United States? That’s an interesting thought. I’ll blog on that idea another time.
Good night.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
As I Begin To Compile My Data
I am starting to compile the past. This is going to be a challenge for me, especially since I have not completely recovered from the PTSD. I know I am getting better. I feel stronger every day. I think blogging has helped.
The church tells us to keep a journal. I think I am starting to understand why. Blogging is actually far superior to journal writing. When you write in a journal you are not sharing your experiences with others. What I really like about blogging is I can write whatever I want to. If someone is interested, they can read it. If not, they don't have to listen to me. It is a win-win situation for both parties.
If you are reading this sentence, I guess something I have said has caused you to get "hooked" on this blog. I can guarantee you one thing. This blog will be uplifting. It will not be filled with pornography or foul language. I hope that you will begin to feel my spirt and that your heart will be touched.
I will be jumping around as I do the compiling. Right now I am experimenting to see what will work best with me. This is going to be hard for the reader, as I will be adding to the different sections as I am so inspired to do. I apologize for that...if reading this blog is too difficult, you may just want to hold off and wait for the book or movie!
The church tells us to keep a journal. I think I am starting to understand why. Blogging is actually far superior to journal writing. When you write in a journal you are not sharing your experiences with others. What I really like about blogging is I can write whatever I want to. If someone is interested, they can read it. If not, they don't have to listen to me. It is a win-win situation for both parties.
If you are reading this sentence, I guess something I have said has caused you to get "hooked" on this blog. I can guarantee you one thing. This blog will be uplifting. It will not be filled with pornography or foul language. I hope that you will begin to feel my spirt and that your heart will be touched.
I will be jumping around as I do the compiling. Right now I am experimenting to see what will work best with me. This is going to be hard for the reader, as I will be adding to the different sections as I am so inspired to do. I apologize for that...if reading this blog is too difficult, you may just want to hold off and wait for the book or movie!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Summary of Events
Summary of Events
By: Nadine Hays
I am a 57-year old grandmother of 5, a member and temple recommend holder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the CFO for The Media Cafe, and the primary care-giver for my 93-year old mother, Eleanor, who was traveling with me and a friend (Mele) to Nashville for the wedding of my nephew and my mom’s grandson.
We arrived at Burbank airport at approximately 11:45 a.m. on Thursday, April 16, 2009. Our plane, American Airlines Flight 328 was scheduled to depart for Dallas, Texas at 1:15 p.m. We were to have a layover in Dallas and were scheduled to depart Dallas at 8:15 p.m. on American Airlines Flight 1626 and were to arrive in Nashville, TN at approximately 10 p.m.
While I was busy checking the baggage at the curb I sent my mom, in her wheelchair, and Mele into the terminal as my mom needed to use the restroom. I was detained about 10 minutes as one of my bags was overweight and I needed to distribute the extra weight in one of the other bags. When I finally made cell phone contact with Mele and located her in the terminal I could tell she was a little frustrated. My mom had used the restroom the first time and as soon as they left the facility she insisted that she needed to use it again; Mele accommodated her wish (with no results, as she had just finished using it). When I met up with them my mom once again said, “I need to use the restroom and Mele won’t take me.” I told my mom that we needed to get onto the plane, as now it was getting late and we still needed to go through the various security checks.
We reached the first security check point where they looked at our ID and boarding passes. Once again my mom asked the security official “Is there a restroom nearby? I need to use it and they (Mele and myself) won’t let me go.” I told the official that she had already used the restroom and that we needed to get through the line to board.
We then began going through the final security check, which was located at the gate doors leading out to the plane. At Burbank airport it is necessary for one to exit the building and board the plane from the outside. One goes from security to the boarding gate; there are no concessions available after security to buy any type of food, water, or beverage.
Mele and I began by taking off our shoes and putting them in a bin. I then put my computer in a bin and we both tossed our jackets on top of it. The agent said, “The computer needs to go through in a bin by itself.” We immediately removed the jackets and put them in another bin. The agent made the statement, “You don’t fly very much, do you?” We agreed with him and moved on.
Mele removed my mom’s shoes and she put on a bit of a fuss. “Don’t take off my shoes, my feet get cold.” Mele explained to her that she would get them right back.
After retrieving our jackets, purses, and shoes we put our shoes back on. My mom needed to go through special screening as she was sitting in her wheel chair. I could see the confused and scared look on her face as a woman official tried to “feel her”. I went over to explain to her what they needed to do and to not worry. I reached over to touch and console her. As I did so, the agent standing next to her commanded to me “Don’t touch her!” I stood back, appalled.
I then went back to the security line, as the last item I needed to get was the ice chest with special food and drink for my mom. Experience has taught us that we need to keep her hydrated (dehydration will cause her to end up in the hospital) and that she needs to eat food. My mom is very picky on what she will eat and lack of food can lead to severe diarrhea which is a difficult thing to deal with at home let alone to try to deal with it on a plane and its small restroom. She needs to have someone else clean her up and I don’t even know if that would be possible on a plane.
The female agent started removing items from the ice chest saying “You can’t take this, you can’t take this.” The result was that I could not take anything in the ice chest (I had packed milk to make her specially formulated protein drink, grapes, sliced cheese, salami, cottage cheese and applesauce). I told her that the food was for my 93-year old mother (I pointed to her) and that she had special needs; this did not change her mind. I immediately asked her for her supervisor. Her supervisor came over and agreed that none of the items could go on board.
The two TSA officials then tossed everything back into the ice chest and started to walk away with it. At this point I became quite upset, as they were doing something illegal and unethical to say the least. I walked up to them and stated that if they were not going to allow me to take the ice chest on board that they needed to at least put it in with the cargo so that I would have access to it when we arrived in Dallas. The supervisor looked at me with scorn and said that would not be possible and that they were going to confiscate the entire ice chest.
Since we were going to be on this trip for 5 days I needed to have the ice chest so that I could keep it stocked with food for my mom. I reached for the handle of the ice chest, which was now in the hands of the younger agent. A “tug of war” over the ice chest proceeded to happen; at one point I noticed the agent look up to her supervisor and give her a smirk like this was really funny! I finally gave a very hard pull to the ice chest, got it away from the agent, walked over to the trash can, dumped all of the contents into the trash and made a very loud and public statement, “I want all of the people here to know that if anything happens to my mother because you did not allow me to take this on board I will hold you 100% responsible.”
At this point I had passed through the security area and was now ready to board the plane. As I headed toward the glass doors at the gate entrance, the American Airlines employee (a mid-aged woman) closed the glass doors. When I said that we needed to get on the plane she said, “You’re not boarding this plane.” I said I had a ticket and asked why I was not being allowed to board. She said, “With what just happened you are a threat to my passengers and I won’t allow you to board.” I walked up to her to speak to her and she gruffly said “Back off…you’re in my face!” I backed up 2 steps. I pleaded with her to let us on board. I explained that we needed to make our connection in Dallas in order to get to Nashville by 10 p.m. This trip was going to be hard enough on my 93-year old mother and we did not need to get there any later. She continued to deny access…I even got down on my knees, ready to kiss her feet, in a plea to allow access…all to no avail. When I asked for a supervisor she said, “I am the supervisor.”
A gentleman from airport security approached me and asked me to have a seat, which I did.
As I was sitting there I overheard someone say the word “vehicle”. At this point I asked the official if they were going to take me away to jail and he said “no”.
OK, I thought to myself, since I am not going to be arrested I need to get hold of American Airlines and have someone get us on board this plane which is scheduled to leave in 5 minutes. When the American Airlines employee that had been talking with me heard what I was trying to do, she made the statement, “You’re not leaving on any of the planes out of my terminal today!”
I was not going to accept what she was saying. I used my cell phone and tried going through “411” to get the number for American Airlines. Before I could get connected the airport police arrived, made me hang up the phone and put my hands behind my back. They proceeded to cuff me and put me in the police car without even telling me what is going on. Here was my mother, in her wheel chair, seeing Mele cry because I was being arrested (she had intentionally turned my mother away from the incidence so my mother would not witness the scene). Thank God one of the airport police officers did come up to me and got my husband’s cell phone number so Mele could call my husband for help. In the meantime nobody from the airport police, TSA, or American Airlines asked if they could be of any help to Mele or my mom!
While sitting in the police car before leaving the airport I find out that one of the TSA officials had placed a citizen’s arrest on me for battery! The agent claimed that I hit them and injured them. I could not believe the charges! At that time I decided to place a citizen’s arrest on the agent for theft. Nothing was done.
The female officer informed me that this probably would not take very long, especially if I decided to “cooperate” with them. I was hysterical, my heart was aching and I felt violated. I prayed, I told myself everything would be OK, and nothing offered me comfort. This continued for the next 5-6 hours.
I was read my rights in the patrol car. I asked for an attorney. Nothing happened. I did tell the officer what had happened…I did not hit anyone. I told the officer that the most “physical activity” that had occurred was the “tug of war” with the ice chest. They drove me down to the Burbank police department, walked me into the “dungeon” with no windows or clocks, and had me wait in line behind a young man that had one handcuff on his right hand and the other handcuff secured to the handrail on the wall. I stood there for what seemed to be about 30 minutes; my lips were extremely chapped and I asked if I could have the chapstick in my purse; the male officer said “No.” Shortly thereafter I asked if I could have a chair as my knee was starting to throb. I explained to them that I had just been to an orthopedic doctor and was informed that I would need a knee replacement due to severe arthritis; I also had a Baker’s cyst behind the knee and a torn ligament. “No, you cannot have a chair,” was the male officer’s response. When the pain got really bad I simply collapsed to my butt and sat on the floor, still cuffed with my hands behind my back. With snot running down my nose and tears pouring out of my eyes I finally asked if they could cuff me like the young man in front of me and if they could give me a tissue for my eyes and nose; the female officer agreed to do so.
It was finally my time to go up to the “booking” window. They uncuffed me. Once again I asked for an attorney; they did nothing. They then told me to put my hands on the bars in front of the window…how humiliating can it get? I did as they asked, still bawling my eyes out. After standing at the window with no activity, I once again sat down on the floor. I was asked questions like:
Q: Have you ever had psychiatric treatment?
A: Yes, after a severe post-partum depression 28 years ago.
Q: Do you take medication?
A: Yes, Sulindac for arthritis and a very low dosage of Effexor for pain and stress.
Due to the stress I felt flushed; when I mentioned it I heard in the background the word “paramedics”. Oh my gosh, I thought, they are going to haul me off to a hospital and I will never get to Nashville. I shouted that I was OK and that I did not need medical aid. The female officer shouted back to them…”did you hear her?” I’m certain that if it had not been for her they would not have called off the paramedic request, which had been issued without my permission.
They stripped me of all jewelry, including my wedding ring, took the shoelaces off my tennis shoes, and had me remove my bra as it was an underwire bra. They then put me in a holding cell with one other woman. I used the call button in the cell and asked the officer what time it was. They responded. The other woman was removed from the cell and I was left there alone. I felt as though I was about to have a nervous breakdown and thought that I had some medication in my purse. I pushed the call button once again and there was no response. I did this several times with the same result.
I figured it must be between 5-6 p.m. as dinner was served to me…a cardboard platter with refried beans, rotten corn, cooked cabbage, 2 slices of wheat bread, a pat of margarine and a container of milk. I had one bite of bread, a kernel of corn (and spit that out), and drank all of the milk, which was the only decent item served. Shortly thereafter an official came to the cell with a blanket and a towel and asked if I would like to go to the dormitory to lay down. My heart throbbed…was I going to be stuck here overnight? At this time I felt like the horse that had just been broken, which I think is the legal system’s intention…knock them down until they are crawling on the ground…they certainly had succeeded with me. I agreed that the dorm had to be more comfortable than the holding cell, which had a concrete bench, toilet, toilet paper, a bar of soap, and a sink.
The dormitory was much nicer, with a padded bed to lie down on. It had a shower which I would have used if I had not been so concerned with trying to make contact with the outside world. There was a phone on the wall in the dormitory as well. There was no information written down explaining how the calling system worked. I believe that when the party I was trying to call answered the phone, they were supposed to hear a recording that explained that all calls needed to be on a prepaid program and told them what to do to set it up. The recording, however, was malfunctioning and so nobody knew what to do. I called the only 4 numbers I had memorized, was cut off from the conversation after 1 minute, and when I attempted to call them back the call would not go through because the prepaid system was not set up. They then took me out of the dorm cell and did digital fingerprinting, followed by the ink fingerprinting. The black ink was thick on my hands and the only thing they gave me to wash it off was a waterless soap. No matter how much I wiped my hands, the ink was ground under my nails and would not wash off when I finally was allowed to go to a sink. My mug shot was taken and then I was placed in the “booth” where I was allowed up to 3 calls. I called my husband and they told him that I would be ready to go at 8:30 p.m. I was then ushered back to the dormitory. At 8:30 p.m. they released me and gave me my purse and a sealed plastic bag with my cash, jewelry, bra and shoelaces. The jail “lobby” was nothing more than a hallway that opened out onto the city street. I had no idea where I was.
I found the police station, which was around the corner and was being remodeled. I called my husband and let him know where I was. I went into the restroom so that I could put my bra back on, put the shoelaces in my shoes, put my jewelry back on and reorganize my purse, which had obviously been completely rummaged through and things thrown back in.
When my husband, John, picked me up he was quite upset as well as what had happened. He told me that when he went to the airport to pick up my mom and Mele he spoke with the watch commander for the airport police, Sergeant Depot. John was told that it was quite “traumatic” and that I had injured 2 officials. John asked if they had tapes and he said yes. John said, “Good, because you are going to need them in court.”
John then informed me that at first he had taken my mom and Mele to our office, not knowing how long I was going to be detained. He then took them to my daughter’s apartment in Valley Village, as they would be more comfortable there. As it started to get dark and there was no definite time given regarding my release, my husband put my mom and Mele on Metrolink, which stopped in Camarillo where my other daughter, Allison, picked them up and brought them back to our house. Mele fed mom and herself and they waited to see what was to materialize.
John thought that I would want to go home and sleep for the night. I explained to him that I had nothing at home…everything was packed in our suitcases and was on its way to Nashville without us. Mele had taken out my mom’s medication for that night, but all the rest of her medications were in the suitcase. If it had only been myself traveling I would have said I had enough and would have gone home and had the airlines return my baggage as soon as they could. I then thought of my mom, who at 93 years of age will probably not see any of her other unmarried grandchildren get married. I had to get her to this wedding.
I told John we were not going to go home. We arranged for Allison to drive my mom and Mele to L.A. International Airport (they stop inbound and outbound flights out of Burbank in the evening). American Airlines had told my daughter that the “red eyes” had plenty of room and that we could get on one of them with no problem. When my husband and I got to the airport we went straight to American Airlines ticketing. I started off with a “trainee” who was very slow and unable to give us the assistance we needed. I then asked for a supervisor, who was much more proficient with the computer terminal and began looking at our options.
There was a flight out to Dallas at midnight, but there were only 2 seats available. That would not work for us, so we had to take a 1 a.m. flight to Dallas instead. The agent then informed me that it would be an extra $750…at which point I informed him that we were told that since we had tickets American Airlines would simply put us on a different flight at no additional charge. He was not willing to abide by this promise and there was another $750 per ticket charged! This agent did get us good seats on the airplane (the first row of seats behind first class, which has more leg room and easier to get in and get out than the regular seats) for both the trip to Nashville as well as from Nashville back to Los Angeles. From this point on (I think maybe the word “lawsuit” might have made it up to higher management) American Airlines treated us very well. When we arrived in Dallas, which is a HUGE terminal, there was a handicap tram waiting to take us to our next boarding gate. There were stewards to help push the wheelchair and carry the luggage. Why does one have to make the threat of a lawsuit in order to get the customer service they should normally receive? That’s besides me.
We finally landed in Nashville around 10:30 a.m. Nashville time. Although we missed the luncheon, we were able to attend the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday and the wedding and wedding reception on Saturday. Mom did OK considering the circumstances, although the confusion and lack of sleep make it so she did not even recognize my brothers when she first saw them.
By: Nadine Hays
I am a 57-year old grandmother of 5, a member and temple recommend holder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the CFO for The Media Cafe, and the primary care-giver for my 93-year old mother, Eleanor, who was traveling with me and a friend (Mele) to Nashville for the wedding of my nephew and my mom’s grandson.
We arrived at Burbank airport at approximately 11:45 a.m. on Thursday, April 16, 2009. Our plane, American Airlines Flight 328 was scheduled to depart for Dallas, Texas at 1:15 p.m. We were to have a layover in Dallas and were scheduled to depart Dallas at 8:15 p.m. on American Airlines Flight 1626 and were to arrive in Nashville, TN at approximately 10 p.m.
While I was busy checking the baggage at the curb I sent my mom, in her wheelchair, and Mele into the terminal as my mom needed to use the restroom. I was detained about 10 minutes as one of my bags was overweight and I needed to distribute the extra weight in one of the other bags. When I finally made cell phone contact with Mele and located her in the terminal I could tell she was a little frustrated. My mom had used the restroom the first time and as soon as they left the facility she insisted that she needed to use it again; Mele accommodated her wish (with no results, as she had just finished using it). When I met up with them my mom once again said, “I need to use the restroom and Mele won’t take me.” I told my mom that we needed to get onto the plane, as now it was getting late and we still needed to go through the various security checks.
We reached the first security check point where they looked at our ID and boarding passes. Once again my mom asked the security official “Is there a restroom nearby? I need to use it and they (Mele and myself) won’t let me go.” I told the official that she had already used the restroom and that we needed to get through the line to board.
We then began going through the final security check, which was located at the gate doors leading out to the plane. At Burbank airport it is necessary for one to exit the building and board the plane from the outside. One goes from security to the boarding gate; there are no concessions available after security to buy any type of food, water, or beverage.
Mele and I began by taking off our shoes and putting them in a bin. I then put my computer in a bin and we both tossed our jackets on top of it. The agent said, “The computer needs to go through in a bin by itself.” We immediately removed the jackets and put them in another bin. The agent made the statement, “You don’t fly very much, do you?” We agreed with him and moved on.
Mele removed my mom’s shoes and she put on a bit of a fuss. “Don’t take off my shoes, my feet get cold.” Mele explained to her that she would get them right back.
After retrieving our jackets, purses, and shoes we put our shoes back on. My mom needed to go through special screening as she was sitting in her wheel chair. I could see the confused and scared look on her face as a woman official tried to “feel her”. I went over to explain to her what they needed to do and to not worry. I reached over to touch and console her. As I did so, the agent standing next to her commanded to me “Don’t touch her!” I stood back, appalled.
I then went back to the security line, as the last item I needed to get was the ice chest with special food and drink for my mom. Experience has taught us that we need to keep her hydrated (dehydration will cause her to end up in the hospital) and that she needs to eat food. My mom is very picky on what she will eat and lack of food can lead to severe diarrhea which is a difficult thing to deal with at home let alone to try to deal with it on a plane and its small restroom. She needs to have someone else clean her up and I don’t even know if that would be possible on a plane.
The female agent started removing items from the ice chest saying “You can’t take this, you can’t take this.” The result was that I could not take anything in the ice chest (I had packed milk to make her specially formulated protein drink, grapes, sliced cheese, salami, cottage cheese and applesauce). I told her that the food was for my 93-year old mother (I pointed to her) and that she had special needs; this did not change her mind. I immediately asked her for her supervisor. Her supervisor came over and agreed that none of the items could go on board.
The two TSA officials then tossed everything back into the ice chest and started to walk away with it. At this point I became quite upset, as they were doing something illegal and unethical to say the least. I walked up to them and stated that if they were not going to allow me to take the ice chest on board that they needed to at least put it in with the cargo so that I would have access to it when we arrived in Dallas. The supervisor looked at me with scorn and said that would not be possible and that they were going to confiscate the entire ice chest.
Since we were going to be on this trip for 5 days I needed to have the ice chest so that I could keep it stocked with food for my mom. I reached for the handle of the ice chest, which was now in the hands of the younger agent. A “tug of war” over the ice chest proceeded to happen; at one point I noticed the agent look up to her supervisor and give her a smirk like this was really funny! I finally gave a very hard pull to the ice chest, got it away from the agent, walked over to the trash can, dumped all of the contents into the trash and made a very loud and public statement, “I want all of the people here to know that if anything happens to my mother because you did not allow me to take this on board I will hold you 100% responsible.”
At this point I had passed through the security area and was now ready to board the plane. As I headed toward the glass doors at the gate entrance, the American Airlines employee (a mid-aged woman) closed the glass doors. When I said that we needed to get on the plane she said, “You’re not boarding this plane.” I said I had a ticket and asked why I was not being allowed to board. She said, “With what just happened you are a threat to my passengers and I won’t allow you to board.” I walked up to her to speak to her and she gruffly said “Back off…you’re in my face!” I backed up 2 steps. I pleaded with her to let us on board. I explained that we needed to make our connection in Dallas in order to get to Nashville by 10 p.m. This trip was going to be hard enough on my 93-year old mother and we did not need to get there any later. She continued to deny access…I even got down on my knees, ready to kiss her feet, in a plea to allow access…all to no avail. When I asked for a supervisor she said, “I am the supervisor.”
A gentleman from airport security approached me and asked me to have a seat, which I did.
As I was sitting there I overheard someone say the word “vehicle”. At this point I asked the official if they were going to take me away to jail and he said “no”.
OK, I thought to myself, since I am not going to be arrested I need to get hold of American Airlines and have someone get us on board this plane which is scheduled to leave in 5 minutes. When the American Airlines employee that had been talking with me heard what I was trying to do, she made the statement, “You’re not leaving on any of the planes out of my terminal today!”
I was not going to accept what she was saying. I used my cell phone and tried going through “411” to get the number for American Airlines. Before I could get connected the airport police arrived, made me hang up the phone and put my hands behind my back. They proceeded to cuff me and put me in the police car without even telling me what is going on. Here was my mother, in her wheel chair, seeing Mele cry because I was being arrested (she had intentionally turned my mother away from the incidence so my mother would not witness the scene). Thank God one of the airport police officers did come up to me and got my husband’s cell phone number so Mele could call my husband for help. In the meantime nobody from the airport police, TSA, or American Airlines asked if they could be of any help to Mele or my mom!
While sitting in the police car before leaving the airport I find out that one of the TSA officials had placed a citizen’s arrest on me for battery! The agent claimed that I hit them and injured them. I could not believe the charges! At that time I decided to place a citizen’s arrest on the agent for theft. Nothing was done.
The female officer informed me that this probably would not take very long, especially if I decided to “cooperate” with them. I was hysterical, my heart was aching and I felt violated. I prayed, I told myself everything would be OK, and nothing offered me comfort. This continued for the next 5-6 hours.
I was read my rights in the patrol car. I asked for an attorney. Nothing happened. I did tell the officer what had happened…I did not hit anyone. I told the officer that the most “physical activity” that had occurred was the “tug of war” with the ice chest. They drove me down to the Burbank police department, walked me into the “dungeon” with no windows or clocks, and had me wait in line behind a young man that had one handcuff on his right hand and the other handcuff secured to the handrail on the wall. I stood there for what seemed to be about 30 minutes; my lips were extremely chapped and I asked if I could have the chapstick in my purse; the male officer said “No.” Shortly thereafter I asked if I could have a chair as my knee was starting to throb. I explained to them that I had just been to an orthopedic doctor and was informed that I would need a knee replacement due to severe arthritis; I also had a Baker’s cyst behind the knee and a torn ligament. “No, you cannot have a chair,” was the male officer’s response. When the pain got really bad I simply collapsed to my butt and sat on the floor, still cuffed with my hands behind my back. With snot running down my nose and tears pouring out of my eyes I finally asked if they could cuff me like the young man in front of me and if they could give me a tissue for my eyes and nose; the female officer agreed to do so.
It was finally my time to go up to the “booking” window. They uncuffed me. Once again I asked for an attorney; they did nothing. They then told me to put my hands on the bars in front of the window…how humiliating can it get? I did as they asked, still bawling my eyes out. After standing at the window with no activity, I once again sat down on the floor. I was asked questions like:
Q: Have you ever had psychiatric treatment?
A: Yes, after a severe post-partum depression 28 years ago.
Q: Do you take medication?
A: Yes, Sulindac for arthritis and a very low dosage of Effexor for pain and stress.
Due to the stress I felt flushed; when I mentioned it I heard in the background the word “paramedics”. Oh my gosh, I thought, they are going to haul me off to a hospital and I will never get to Nashville. I shouted that I was OK and that I did not need medical aid. The female officer shouted back to them…”did you hear her?” I’m certain that if it had not been for her they would not have called off the paramedic request, which had been issued without my permission.
They stripped me of all jewelry, including my wedding ring, took the shoelaces off my tennis shoes, and had me remove my bra as it was an underwire bra. They then put me in a holding cell with one other woman. I used the call button in the cell and asked the officer what time it was. They responded. The other woman was removed from the cell and I was left there alone. I felt as though I was about to have a nervous breakdown and thought that I had some medication in my purse. I pushed the call button once again and there was no response. I did this several times with the same result.
I figured it must be between 5-6 p.m. as dinner was served to me…a cardboard platter with refried beans, rotten corn, cooked cabbage, 2 slices of wheat bread, a pat of margarine and a container of milk. I had one bite of bread, a kernel of corn (and spit that out), and drank all of the milk, which was the only decent item served. Shortly thereafter an official came to the cell with a blanket and a towel and asked if I would like to go to the dormitory to lay down. My heart throbbed…was I going to be stuck here overnight? At this time I felt like the horse that had just been broken, which I think is the legal system’s intention…knock them down until they are crawling on the ground…they certainly had succeeded with me. I agreed that the dorm had to be more comfortable than the holding cell, which had a concrete bench, toilet, toilet paper, a bar of soap, and a sink.
The dormitory was much nicer, with a padded bed to lie down on. It had a shower which I would have used if I had not been so concerned with trying to make contact with the outside world. There was a phone on the wall in the dormitory as well. There was no information written down explaining how the calling system worked. I believe that when the party I was trying to call answered the phone, they were supposed to hear a recording that explained that all calls needed to be on a prepaid program and told them what to do to set it up. The recording, however, was malfunctioning and so nobody knew what to do. I called the only 4 numbers I had memorized, was cut off from the conversation after 1 minute, and when I attempted to call them back the call would not go through because the prepaid system was not set up. They then took me out of the dorm cell and did digital fingerprinting, followed by the ink fingerprinting. The black ink was thick on my hands and the only thing they gave me to wash it off was a waterless soap. No matter how much I wiped my hands, the ink was ground under my nails and would not wash off when I finally was allowed to go to a sink. My mug shot was taken and then I was placed in the “booth” where I was allowed up to 3 calls. I called my husband and they told him that I would be ready to go at 8:30 p.m. I was then ushered back to the dormitory. At 8:30 p.m. they released me and gave me my purse and a sealed plastic bag with my cash, jewelry, bra and shoelaces. The jail “lobby” was nothing more than a hallway that opened out onto the city street. I had no idea where I was.
I found the police station, which was around the corner and was being remodeled. I called my husband and let him know where I was. I went into the restroom so that I could put my bra back on, put the shoelaces in my shoes, put my jewelry back on and reorganize my purse, which had obviously been completely rummaged through and things thrown back in.
When my husband, John, picked me up he was quite upset as well as what had happened. He told me that when he went to the airport to pick up my mom and Mele he spoke with the watch commander for the airport police, Sergeant Depot. John was told that it was quite “traumatic” and that I had injured 2 officials. John asked if they had tapes and he said yes. John said, “Good, because you are going to need them in court.”
John then informed me that at first he had taken my mom and Mele to our office, not knowing how long I was going to be detained. He then took them to my daughter’s apartment in Valley Village, as they would be more comfortable there. As it started to get dark and there was no definite time given regarding my release, my husband put my mom and Mele on Metrolink, which stopped in Camarillo where my other daughter, Allison, picked them up and brought them back to our house. Mele fed mom and herself and they waited to see what was to materialize.
John thought that I would want to go home and sleep for the night. I explained to him that I had nothing at home…everything was packed in our suitcases and was on its way to Nashville without us. Mele had taken out my mom’s medication for that night, but all the rest of her medications were in the suitcase. If it had only been myself traveling I would have said I had enough and would have gone home and had the airlines return my baggage as soon as they could. I then thought of my mom, who at 93 years of age will probably not see any of her other unmarried grandchildren get married. I had to get her to this wedding.
I told John we were not going to go home. We arranged for Allison to drive my mom and Mele to L.A. International Airport (they stop inbound and outbound flights out of Burbank in the evening). American Airlines had told my daughter that the “red eyes” had plenty of room and that we could get on one of them with no problem. When my husband and I got to the airport we went straight to American Airlines ticketing. I started off with a “trainee” who was very slow and unable to give us the assistance we needed. I then asked for a supervisor, who was much more proficient with the computer terminal and began looking at our options.
There was a flight out to Dallas at midnight, but there were only 2 seats available. That would not work for us, so we had to take a 1 a.m. flight to Dallas instead. The agent then informed me that it would be an extra $750…at which point I informed him that we were told that since we had tickets American Airlines would simply put us on a different flight at no additional charge. He was not willing to abide by this promise and there was another $750 per ticket charged! This agent did get us good seats on the airplane (the first row of seats behind first class, which has more leg room and easier to get in and get out than the regular seats) for both the trip to Nashville as well as from Nashville back to Los Angeles. From this point on (I think maybe the word “lawsuit” might have made it up to higher management) American Airlines treated us very well. When we arrived in Dallas, which is a HUGE terminal, there was a handicap tram waiting to take us to our next boarding gate. There were stewards to help push the wheelchair and carry the luggage. Why does one have to make the threat of a lawsuit in order to get the customer service they should normally receive? That’s besides me.
We finally landed in Nashville around 10:30 a.m. Nashville time. Although we missed the luncheon, we were able to attend the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday and the wedding and wedding reception on Saturday. Mom did OK considering the circumstances, although the confusion and lack of sleep make it so she did not even recognize my brothers when she first saw them.
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