The Joke of That Thing We Call... The Tarrant County "Justice System"

...and it probably isn't any better where you live.

Before I get going here, understand that yes, this IS a bash of the Tarrant County courts and their processing; make no doubt about that. If you have a soft spot for power structures and believe they're above reproach, I'd recommend you stop reading now.

Everywhere we look these days and at every level of state power all the way up the chain, there is corruption. Your tax dollars and mine going to systems of inadequacy and bureaucratic red tape, made such in an effort to extract more wealth from you, the tax payer. 

This didn't happen by accident folks, this system was carefully designed and works exactly as it is supposed to, and if you've had the unfortunate experience of being processed through this sausage maker, you know exactly what I'm talking about. So... let me tell you a little story.

One fine day, a sibling of mine, who I had been supporting for almost a year... let me rephrase that... that I had been enabling for almost a year, decided that he was going to leave the state (he's on probation for DWI) and that every woe in his life was my fault, because I had kicked him out. So he sends me a number of nasty texts throughout the day, and then finally one that kinda broke the camel's proverbial back; he stated that he was coming over and that he planned to slash every tire on every vehicle in my driveway, at which I responded in perhaps a few more words than this, "I wouldn't even try it if I were you". And before I can even get my shoes on I receive another one, "I'm here, let's see about that."

I'm thinking... here this little shit is, about to slash all my tires and high-tail it out of state, at which point I am left high-and-dry with no way to get anywhere and a battle with the insurance company. Sure, I could call the police but that would take a while and by golly... I have a right to defend my property and myself. Think again folks...

I go to the garage, grab a sledge, open the garage door and lo and behold, there's the sibling walking onto my property, knife in hand. I walk out and tell him to think really hard about what's about to happen, at which point he moves in close to me... too close for my comfort with a knife... yelling and cussing me right to my face, at which point I backhand him and tell him to move away from me with the knife. So, angry, he comes at me again, hands flailing wildly and I just move away, hammer at the ready... and then the knife is hurled my way. Luckily for me, the butt hit my leg and not the business end.

He then moves to his car parked along the road side and is fumbling around in the console. My first thought automatically goes to; "He's got a gun and is pissed off enough to use it" and as he steps back out of the car I take a 'slow' swing at his knee, dropping him directly to the ground. It was only then that I can see, he was going for his cell phone...

I walked over, picked the knife up out of the yard, placed the knife and hammer in the garage and my mind is racing; guilt for hurting him, anger for the position he'd put me in and not feeling that I had much choice in the matter other than to call the police and wait while he slashed and ran.

He's on probation and as far as I know, hasn't been paying his fees, so my thought it... he's not calling the police, he's calling that group of punk friends he likes to hang with to come exact some revenge. Fearing the escalation, I grab my keys, get into my car and leave. 

As you might have guessed... I was wrong about him calling the police. A few miles from my home I spot an ambulance heading towards me and, a squad car. The officer pulls me over, basically drags me out of the car and the rest as they say, is history... well, not quite.

I was never ONCE asked to tell my story or give a statement to any investigator. They simply rushed me in, processed me through and I got to spend 24 hours staring at concrete walls. 

So before I get into the processing, let me give you a little background on me. I am a middle aged Caucasian man; a professional with a good career and my worst offense up to this point? Forgetting to pay a speeding fine some 1-2 years ago, which I promptly paid upon receiving my "round up" letter. 

Just a guy who'd had enough of a mooch brother who felt entitled to whatever I had to give him... the old, 'give an inch, take a mile' maxim. All that aside, I had NO intention of harming him and hoped the mere site of a heavy hammer would work as a deterrent. That said, his damages were mild and he was up walking and driving a few hours later with some strained ligaments to the kneecap.

Now comes the bail bond; the first step in the sausage making party. 10% of the total fine to get your freedom back; to go back to work; to care for a dependent; to get some semblance of your life back. If you're not a person of at least 'some' means, you're going to have to kiss a lot of things goodbye, possibly even including the job that you're going to so sorely need to get yourself out of this mess and trust me, it IS messy and the system does NOT care if you are guilty or not... you are going to pay$$$$$.

At so many points along this process I thought, "Hmm, eventually I will get to tell my side of this and it will get easier"... NO. No one cares what your story is; no one will want to hear it and none of the meat grinders are even going to allow that conversation to take place. 

So bond... and with that comes a weekly visit to the happiest people you could ever hope to meet. "Hello criminal"... yes, that IS you now, so get ready to feel like one, your journey is just beginning.

You'll get a court date someday.... ... ... ZzzzZzzzz... just keep waiting for it.

The court is supposed to send a letter notifying you of these dates but they won't, so just ignore that information if its offered at your arraignment. Perhaps the bondsman is supposed to forward them to you, but either way, don't hold your breath. You'll get your 'date' at one of the weekly check-ins.

So here we are, the big date! You get to go to court and be judged by a jury of your peers and all that nonsense you learned in school right? Nope, this first court date is to set you up for probation. Yep, that's right, you're going to sign some rights away, head over to the probationary sausage maker and do some more waiting around.

They'll want all the same information the courts have on you, so get ready to fill out a stack of forms telling them everything down to the number of times you change your underwear every week. But then... my interview came with a little snag...

You see, in acts of "family violence", the one that cried foul is automatically assigned a "no-contact" (basically a restraining order) against you. Here's where my snag comes in... my brother, living in his car for the past few weeks, claimed his residence as MY address. Yes, so guess what.... I am not supposed to be living in MY home while this order is in place. 

Strike 1 against the courts for not demanding proof of residence. If you ever want to really 'f' up someone's life? Issue a restraining order against them and claim their address as your own. 

I had to give the courts the address of a hotel nearby and claim that as residence. As for whether I paid for a hotel while making my mortgage or not... I'll let you decide.

So finally it's onto another happy cheery fellow, the probation officer. Get ready for another dose of  "presumption of innocence"... it's a foreign notion to these folks. 

You're innocent you say? Yeah, whatever... get out your billfold, this guy/gal wants $60 a month from you.

Onto the pee nazis. Yep, you're a criminal and holding to the fact that you are guilty until you prove yourself innocent... the system needs to know that you're not on any drugs. So you say, "This wasn't drug related"... yes, but it doesn't matter for these is a paycheck to be received from the services you don't want or need!

Pay the pee Nazis every time they watch you whip your shit out and pee in a cup for them. 

Ka-ching! Can you feel the beginnings of a wonderful state-run business venture? And, lots of folks who feel justified in continuing it? Welcome to the mill folks.

So they have your pee and they have all your information, you've been indoctrinated into the system and they're going to get monthly fees from you until this whole mess goes away. Front-loading at its finest.

So I'm back to waiting for the next court date, some two weeks out and wondering when, if ever, I'm going to be able to tell my side of this story. Around this time I had been notified, by my mother, that the brother--who had been working with the DA--feeling the error of his ways and finally sobered in his thinking, was filing an affidavit of dismissal. 

YAY... all of my problems were going away! Not quite yet, and here's the part where I'd made a big mistake...

I went back to court without a lawyer...

Yeah, well I was hoping for dismissal, felt it had to be in the pipe and sure as hell didn't want to put a lawyer on retainer. Like I said, big mistake...

So court day is here; go in at 9am and finally off to see the judge at 1:30'ish...

"Where's your lawyer"... well, I didn't have one but I HAD been advised by one that basically told me, "Sounds like this thing is going to go away pretty quickly and you may or may not even have need of my services". Not wanting to fork out the bucks anyways, I took that information and ran with it... now back to Mr. Judge, another pleasant and rational character..

I try to explain to Mr. Judge that I was talking to a lawyer... at which point he asks me, "Who" and so I give his name... cause you're gonna find out, this is THE good ol' boys club of clubs. I go on, trying to explain my situation and the affidavit of dismissal that I felt was being brought to court this date... and before I can even get a word out edge-wise, I am stopped cold, by a man who obvious has no patience for the likes of me--the criminal--as he sneers and asks me, "Do you want to argue with me son?"... I can only stand there in disgust...

You have 30 minutes to get your lawyer here and if he isn't here, YOU be here... do not leave. I have half the mind to lock you up for the weekend...

*about face* and off I go, mad enough to bite nails at this point. WTF is wrong with these people anyways?

So I call my lawyer again and get the secretary who tells me what I already knew; that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of him making it there by 2. I'm given another lawyer's name and so I call his office and talk to his secretary. She calls me back, "He can be there in 30 minutes, but he'll need $1,000 as retainer" and so, I pull out my card and make the payment. Easy come, easy go.

Then I'm greeted by the man I just hired, the same man I'd see sitting in court earlier this day just a few 'pews' ahead of me. Small world.

He goes into the back offices, I hear some laughter and carrying on and out he comes, telling me to be on my way and that I should come by his office to discuss the case.

And so here we are... no court to hear our plea yet and we've already been front-loaded with ~$1100 worth of fees and a whole lotta humiliation.

Every step along the way you get the same story... "This is just how it is"... at which I can only ask, "And WHY is it this way?" Where is the due process in this system? Why is it so wasteful of my time, my money and the tax payer's money? And the answer is? Because everyone in the club can profit from it. 

Now don't get me wrong folks... I want a system in place that keeps criminals off the streets, even before they're set to trial. But, what is the point in a "Judge" if not to separate the wheat from the chaff so to speak? Is everyone a nail to the hammer of "justice"? And where is the presumption of innocence in any of this process?

There is one simple, logical answer. Every person that walks through those doors is a potential $core and it is in their best interests, to push you through the grinder in hopes of squeezing a few pennies out. There is no other logical answer to this joke that we call, the justice system. 

I am grateful that I am of at least 'some' means. If this had happened to me after my divorce, many years ago, this would have probably cost me my job and every penny in my bank account. 

I'll admit to being a bit naive to the system and the workings of it, but who isn't, that hasn't made a career out of it in one form or another?

My advice... if you are up on felony charges? Whether you are guilty or innocent doesn't matter. No one complicit to the system cares. Get your wallet out because justice costs money and this is big business at it's finest; your tax dollars at work 'protecting' you.