Approximately 9 years ago in April of 2000, my friend, we will call her Glo, and I were headed to South Beach to go see a friend of mines open up for the rap group Mobb Deep. Anthony asked me to be there early so that I could go on stage with them and help hype up the crowd. I knew I would be moving around a lot so I wore my hip hop gear, which then consisted of black Dickie boots, loose Dickie overalls and a leather jacket. I know it sounds weird but it was really cute at the time.
Glo and I were running late so I decided to speed all the way there. I was driving a 2000 gold, Dodge Mini-van that a producer friend of mines we will call him Mr. Producer, let me borrow because my car was broken down at the time. Mr. Producer was always in an out of town and always had several cars around. When he saw that I had no car he told me that he had an extra van that was a rental that he wasn’t using and that I could borrow that until I got my car fixed. It had been two weeks since he loaned me the mini-van and by then I had my two-years car seat in it, my fishing rods, mail and anything else I could fit in it. It desperately needed cleaning, but I was too busy working on my so-called music career and working to have time to clean it out.
Back to the story…..here we are riding over the I-195 expressway eastbound connecting Midtown Miami with :Miami Beach. I am driving and Glo is in the front passenger seat. The speed limit on this section of the road is 55mph and here I am doing at least 70mph. All of a sudden I hear the sound of a cop car signaling for me to pull over. Glo and I both turned around and looked out the back window of the van and saw Florida Highway Patrol behind me.
I pulled over before the “whoop whoop” sound ended. All I could think was, I hope he hurries up and gives me my ticket so I can get to my friends performance. I really wasn’t concerned because my record was clean and I had never even had a parking ticket. I started to get out of the van, but the officer instructed me not to get out of the car over his loudspeaker. He then got out of his patrol and headed towards the van. Upon reaching the van he asked me for my driver’s license and registration. I gave him my driver’s license and continued to dig around for the registration. After much digging around in glove compartments and door panels I found the registration and handed it to the officer. I also informed him that this was a rental and it was not my car. He asked me if I knew how fast I was going and I told him, “yeah, probably about 80mph”. He said, “No, actually you were going 70 something”. He then asked me why I was going so fast and where was I headed. I told him I was going to see my friend perform and I was late. He then told me to give him a second that he needed to run my license.
I sat and waited and waited and waited. I was clueless as to why it was taking so long. Nearly 15 minutes had gone by and he was still sitting in his car with his partner. I wasn’t sure what he was doing at this point. Glo and I both began discussing what might be taking them so long, but I assured her we had nothing to worry about since I had all the required documentation, I had full coverage insurance and my license was spic and span clean.
Finally the officer got of his car, waltzed up to my window and told me that I was under arrest. I gasped, “under arrest, for what”, before he could even finish. He then said, “You’re under arrest for grand-theft auto which is a 3 degree felony. Glo looked at me in shock. I looked back at her in disbelief. The other officer on the scene had pulled up behind the arresting officer. He got out of his car and went over to Glo who was still in the passenger side of the mini-van and told her that she needed to call someone to come and get her because I was under arrest. He also proceeded to tell her that he could take her down too as an accessory, but that he was going to be nice today and let her go.
I was then told to step out of the car with my hands in the air. I was very confused at this point. I didn’t know what to think. I thought maybe they had mistaken me for someone else. I thought, “This must be a dream”. So many things were running through my head at this point. I stepped out of the car with my hands in the air and was then told to put them behind my head. I was then handcuffed. For some reason, I cannot remember if they frisked me or not. I was read my rights. I still couldn’t believe what was happening. I began to cry. Glo got out of the van and told me that she would call My Ex, my daughters father and that they would come and get me out. The arresting officer then left me standing there and went back to his car. The handcuffs were the plastic kind and they very tight and were cutting into my skin. The tears were rolling down my eyes and then my damn allergies started acting up. So not only was I crying, but I was sneezing and snot was running down my face. I couldn’t wipe it because my hands were tied so I just had to try to shake if off.
The arresting officer came back after about 6 minutes – by this time of the other officer was back in his patrol car sitting down. The arresting officer then grabbed my arm and led me to his patrol car. He opened up his squad car door and put me in the back seat. My nose was really running like crazy by this time, but there was nothing I could do about. It must have been a funny site to see, me sitting there with my eyes all red and snot all over my chin and lips. Although it was extremely annoying I was only concerned with finding out why I was being arrested. I knew he had stated that I was being arrested to “Grand Theft Auto”, but I still didn’t know why. Mr. Officer sat in the front seat of the patrol car filling out his reports and making calls. I asked him why I was being arrested for stealing and automobile, when I didn’t steal an automobile. He said, “The rental car company reported the car stolen because whoever rented the car either didn’t pay them or renew the payment on their credit card”. He went on to say, “Whenever this happens they report the car stolen”. That was his explanation.
I sat there in amazement. I told him that I didn’t even rent the car. That a friend of mines had let me borrow the car and that I knew nothing of him paying or not paying. He said, “I’m sorry, but I still have to take you down”. Then, he said, “your friend is lucky we didn’t take her down too because we’re supposed to”. He then got out of the car and made a phone call. He told whoever he called that they, “should drive over and see what he’s got here”. He was referring to me. Shortly thereafter, another patrol car and officer pulled up. He parked and then got out of his car and came over to the car I was sitting in handcuffed and peered in the window at me (he had this look on his face as to say, they had a good catch) – sort of like a hunter showing off a prize deer. Then he walked back over to the arresting officer and they shared a really good laugh at my expense.
When the two officers finished getting their laugh, the arresting officer came back to his car and we drove off to the detention center. To this day, I don’t remember the name of the first detention center they took me too, but I remember it being a long ride.
I was scared to death. Even though I knew I didn’t do anything wrong I was scared. When we reached the facility they took me to a booking room. They asked me a whole lot of questions, made me remove the hair extensions from my hair in front of everyone, made me strip butt naked and squat and cough with absolutely no clothes on.
Back in the common area, all of the correction officers and guards thought the entire situation was a big joke. One guard flirted with me asking me where I was from and another joked that if I was going to steal a car to make it a mustang the next time so that I could get away.
Then I started to get mad. I’m thinking to myself why in the hell would I steal a mini-van, drive around in it for two weeks, put my daughter’s car seat in it and my fishing equipment? Are there really people that stupid? I seemed to be the joke of the night. And there were hardly any other inmates there so I guess they needed some form of entertainment and my story was a funny one, from their perceptions.
They gave me my one phone call, so I called my daughter’s father. We had just recently broke up. About this time it was 3am. I told him I was locked up and why and he just hung up the phone in my face. Since he hung up in my face, they let me make another phone call, so I called my friend Mr. Producer, who got me in the situation in the first place, and cursed him the hell out and told him I never wanted to speak to him again.
Immediately after I hung up the phone, they escorted me to a puke turquoise/lime green cell with small window in it – about 18 long x 8 inches wide filled with extremely thick bulletproof glass. They also took my shoes and gave me a pair of foam slippers. The room was freezing cold (felt like 55 degrees to me) and consisted of a metal toilet, sink and bench. When the officer locked the door it sounded like they were locking a huge bank vault. I was alone in the cell because I was the only female “felony” that night and they don’t mix felonies with misdemeanors. This was the first time in my life that I wanted more people around me.
About this time, I conveniently found out that I was slightly claustrophobic. I had never been trapped or locked up before, so I didn’t know I was slightly claustrophobic. As soon as the door clicked shut, and I looked around at those horrible green walls, I started to feel like I couldn’t breath. I began to hyperventilate and I started banging on the door for them to let me out. They couldn’t hear me. After a few minutes of banging and no one coming to my rescue, I managed to get my psyche together and calm myself down.
I was soooooo cold. And I hate cold more than anything. I usually keep my house about 78 and I’m comfortable. So, I’m freezing my ass off and thinking that I’m going to spend the rest of my life behind bars. I really believed it was the end of the road for me. I’m thinking, “shit, if they can lock me up for driving a rental that was reported stolen for a expired credit card, then they could surely find a way to keep me here for as long as they wanted”.
I started worrying about my daughters and what would happen to them. Finally I somehow fell asleep. Into what seemed like 15 minutes of my sleep I was awakened by a guard opening my cell. She came in and asked me if I wanted something to eat. By this time I was starving. I hadn’t eaten all day. I was led out into the commons area and the guard pointed me to a box on the floor with boxed juice, and baloney sandwiches with cheese. She said, “this is all we have tonight, hope you enjoy it”. Then she looked at me out of the corner of her eye as if to say, “I’m glad I’m not eating that shit”. What she didn’t know was that I loved baloney sandwiches and the longer they sat around and got mashed up the better. I grabbed two sandwiches and a juice and was led back to my cell.
I fell asleep again after eating. It’s amazing how quickly a human being can adjust to just about anything. I probably slept about an hour or so and was awakened by another guard telling me that I was going downtown. I didn’t ask any questions, I just got up and followed suit. I was led back to the commons area and was then lined up with other prisoners or whatever you want to call them. They lined us up in two rows side by side and then handcuffed and shackled us by our ankles like a chain gang.
I thought, “wow, not only am I going to jail, but I’m also going to do hard labor some where far away”. And for some reason I kept thinking no one would ever see me again. The guards told that we were going on a little trip downtown and asked us to walk slowly through the doors leading to outside. I don’t know how else we could have walked. We were shackled and handcuffed. Nevertheless we made it outside and were boarded onto the long gray prison bus headed to more hell. We sat down on the bus with our shackle buddy of course. The bus driver boarded and spewed out a bunch of shit and we were off.
We didn’t even make the first turn before my shackle buddy started boo-hooing and snotting all over herself. Then she started crying and talking in Spanish. Now I don’t mind a little boo-hooing because I do that myself from time to time, but she was loud. I had the aisle seat. I looked over to my right and gave her a “shut the fuck up look” and she didn’t get it. She kept crying so I screamed at her to shut the fuck up. Things were bad enough for all of us. We definitely didn’t need loud whining on our trip to hell.
We finally reached TGK Detention Center in Downtown Miami. We are ushered off the bus and taken inside down a long hallway through a lot of doors. On the way to our cell, I noticed a bunch of male inmates on the other side of the building. At the time I didn’t know where we were, but I was actually relieved to see the guys. It gave me a sense of possibly being able to see my family again for some reason. We were detached from our shackle buddies and sent to different rooms, one by one.
I was taken to another cell, but this time it was filled with female inmates waiting to either go to court, get released or be sent to a more permanent place. The cell they put me in was about the size of a very small bedroom and there had to be at least 40 women in it. There were also benches, which were all full, and the typical metal toilet that we were supposed to use in front of everyone there. It smelled like ass, shit, piss, vomit, and crotch. I wanted to throw up. When I first arrived to this particular cell, there was nowhere to sit so I just stood. I really didn’t know whether I wanted to sit or not anyway. I have to say. This was one interesting place to be. Nearly four-fifths of the women were African American. Everyone looked like all they needed was a good nights sleep and a shower, including myself.
The guards would come in every 15 minutes or so and call an inmate or twos name and take them with her. Inmates also kept coming in to replace them. After about the second time the guard came in, I was offered a seat and I took it. By then I was tired of standing. As I sat there I listened to the women’s conversations. I wish I had had a tape-recorder. Reality shows of today have nothing on the stories I heard that day. One crack head that sat next to me was pregnant. She was telling another crack head how she couldn’t wait to get out and have this baby so she could get her some more crack. She looked to be at least 7 months pregnant. All I could think was “poor child”. I heard pimp stories, domestic violence stories, drug stories and all. I had nothing to say. I just listened. Besides who wants to hear about the girl who got arrested for driving a mini-van that was reported stolen because of an expired credit card?
Hours went by and I must have watched the entire group turn over. I started to think I would never be called. My hopes went up and down like bipolar episodes. Then, finally, my name was called. I jumped up and ran to the door of steel bars. The guard reconfirmed my name with me and then let me out to follow her down the long hallway. She told me that bond was set and that I was being released. My bond had been set at $5000. I didn’t even know who had paid it or who was coming to get me, but I didn’t’ even ask. I was ready to go even if the devil had fronted the bill.
They had me sign a bunch of papers and my bondsman showed up. He was a friend of my daughter’s father. My bondsman and I met in a room and he told me that my ex had bonded me out and told me everything I needed to do. I don’t think I remembered anything he said, except that I had to go to court (which I already knew) and that I was free. That was all that mattered to me at this point.
When I got outside my friend Glo and my ex were waiting for me. Three weeks later I went to court to finalize the case. I was the first one in the courtroom and I think I showed up an hour early for my session. I wanted to make sure there was no reason for me to get into any more trouble. The courtroom filled up and the honorable Judge Robert Pinero, entered the courtroom. Everyone in the room was asked to rise out of respect and we were then asked to be seated. The first name that was called was mines. I was so anxious. Judge Pinero called out, “Angela Walker”. I jumped up so fast, he probably thought I was on crack. I quickly responded, “Yes, I’m right here”. Judge Pinero said, “All charges have been dropped, this case is closed, and you are free to leave”. I said, “Thank you, thank you (like a freed slave)”. And then ran out of the courtroom. I was so happy that this was all over. Consequently, I found out later that this producer so-called friend of mines was actually using stolen credit cards. I don’t’ know if they arrested him or what. I just know that I never spoke to him again.
Five days ago, I applied for a new apartment. I paid an $80.00 application fee and spent days gathering check stubs, w-2 forms, statements, references, etc., hoping that my daughters and I might move into a much needed larger and better place. When I went to drop off the $5.00 I owed the leasing agent for having my papers notarized, she told me she had bad news. I knew I didn’t have the best credit in the world, but I was working on fixing that. Other than that I always, always paid my rent on time and I was always an excellent tenant. I even had letters from my past landlords, thanking me for being such a great tenant and asking me to sign up for another year.
I asked her what happened and she said, “your criminal record”. She said with her very strong Cuban accent, “I told you we don’t accept people with criminal records”. Then she said, “see”, and pointed to the box on the leasing application that stated that they would not rent to people with criminal records. She then showed me the paper and Whoop there it was, Rene Walker, 3rd degree felony, grand theft auto. Well I told her thanks ran out the building. I knew I couldn’t get my deposit back because I was already told that it was non-refundable.
I hurried home and jumped on the Internet at http://www.miami-dadeclerk.com to see if I might be able to see what she had pulled up and Whoop – there it is! The same exact record. Me “Angela” aka the Dodge, mini-van culprit. I called everyone I knew and asked them what to do. My ex-sister in law told me to contact the judge who saw the case. So I went back online and printed off all of the information I could find.
The following day, I called the judge Rosa Rodriguez’s office. For some reason, even though I saw Robert Pinero, her name was on the case. I guess they work together. I know nothing about legal humdrum so don’t start me to lying. Anyway, I called her office and spoke to her secretary. She was very nice. I explained to her what had just happened to me. Apparently she looked up my record when she put me on hold because when she came back she said, “yeah Ms. Walker, I see you have nothing else on your record”. I said, “I know”. I think I had a parking ticket once and one for running a stale yellow light. She said, “With your record you can petition the courts to either seal or expunge this off your record”. So I asked her if that was going to remove it from my record altogether and she told me, “No, you can never completely remove this off your record”. WOW… Then I said to her, “but I didn’t’ do anything”. She said, “I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do, the judge already did her part, but I can refer you to the State Attorney’s office”. I asked her if she was sure there was nothing that could be done and she assured me that all I could do was seal or expunge the record, but it would remain there. She then gave me the number to the State Attorney’s office.
I got off the phone with her and called the State Attorneys office to plead my case and see if I could get any results. I spoke to his secretary first and I explained to here what just happened to me. She promptly put me on the phone with an attorney. I then explained to him what had just happened. He was very nice and sympathetic. But he told me the same thing the judge’s office told me – that I could expunge or seal the record, but it would never fully come off. I then told him, “from what I’ve heard if its still on there certain government agencies can still see it whether it’s sealed or expunged right”? He said, “yes they can, but it’s the only thing you can do”. Then he told me where I could go to the get the papers to start the process. He also informed me that I could “TRY” to do it myself or I might want to hire a lawyer to help me. I asked if there was fee to file the papers and he told me yes, there are a few things you have to pay for. I told him, “but I didn’t do anything. Why should I have to pay for something I didn’t do”? He said, “I know. That’s just how it is.” Then he finished his encouragement with the following statement, “Unfortunately, this happens to a lot of people”. WOW #2
I thank him, hang up the phone and then begin to look for the papers online to save some time and driving around downtown. Now just two weeks ago, I was summoned for jury duty, but I opted out. At the time, I felt guilty for not contributing to my country. Right about now, I’m guessing you could imagine how I feel.
How long and how many times am I going to have to pay for this crime I never committed?
By the way, I also pulled my credit before filling out the leasing application. Nearly 80% of the information on it was incorrect and Equifax and Experian both tried to convince me into paying them $14.95 to monitor “MY” credit so that I could catch the inaccuracies that they put in there! WOW #3 – Is that a Mafia Move or what? Isn’t that like charging stores for protection in certain neighborhoods back in the day when the only gangsters were the Mafia?
This invasion of privacy shit has gone way too far. I understand wanting to keep child-molesters and killers away from you by doing background checks, but the legal system needs to catch up to these new tactics and sync the laws accordingly. Aren’t we supposedly in the Middle East fighting for so-called human rights? Well damn, can we get some fricking human rights here in America first? Stalin would be proud of America right about now!