INCARCERATION without regard for due process of law


As I walk hazily through this quiet and impersonal Florida airport, I wonder if today’s Americans will ever again protest any governmental injustice. Has the Patriot Act erased innate ability and Constitutional right to question authority? Just observe the obedient, lemming-like passengers mindlessly undressing on those “security” check-in lines. Have we lost our love of freedom and the American independent personae? Have the non-uniformed Americans (us) been effectively neutralized by the uniformed TSA “security providers” under the imposed fears of terror from the Patriot Act, which paralyze us from even thinking about challenging this daily cattle herding?

I reluctantly find myself sitting on this commercial airplane rushing to New York. I know today that I possess the courage and integrity to stand up to misguided governmental forces. I have definitely proven that I would not watch silently as I or my neighbor was abused or even confined for speaking the truth. Lost in the mist of the clouds outside my window, I consider injustices to others, like my shareholders, no differently than an abuse of the rights of my own children. My cries for help on this matter fell on  deaf ears … tragically, as high as those in the White House.

As the plane now taxies to the gate, despite my desire to stick my leg out the window, like a child on a fast moving sled to slow it down; my hands, normally dry, moisten. My occasionally intense eyes, now steel to watch the opening of the cabin door. Who might be charging me on? I keep re-reading my full page New York Times response ad to this situation in the event there are any media questions.

I see that there were fifty-nine phone messages left during my two and a half flight. Listening to these messages will not be possible as my legal team greets me at the gate, not outside security. Can one man actually do this to me? How will my parents, children, grandchildren and wife process what may very soon happen? Will the following days be an adventure, a nightmare, a non-event or a life altering tragedy?

In less than an hour in the now awkwardly silent ride from the airport to lower Manhattan, a 60 year old, respected political candidate, businessman, and law abiding American citizen, without a parking ticket, will actually change his name from Richard Altomare (that’s me) to 60981-054. I will report to the Manhattan Correction Center to be placed in a high security solitary jail cell with no permitted trial, no crime committed and no knowledge of the events he and you, the reader, are about to share. Over the following unbelievable days we will better understand together one of American’s best kept dark secrets, never before so clearly exposed by an innocent whistleblower.

During this soon to be life-defining wrongful incarceration you, the reader, will see and experience a prison world yours and my defensive psyches refuse to admit could be allowed to exist.