Excerpts from LYNCHED AT LAW:
Introduction
"What they did to you, if written, would become a John Grisham best seller. No one would believe it really happened."
That is the reaction I got from all who learned about the collusion that the government used to concoct the alleged criminal
conspiracy against me.
Whatever commercial value my dilemma may yield for a gifted fiction author is of lesser importance than my urge to reveal the
fourth branch of government's threat to American Liberty. This book is an irony. An irony because Americans live in naivety
more than in ignorance. In my case it was a bit of both - as deeply entrenched as I was in living the American dream!
Eighteen hour workdays more often than not. Hurrying through rush hour traffic to get the kids to and from school on time.
Weekly twenty five mile runs to tune both body and mind -with regular appeals to the Creator that this magical manipulation
of the fleeting thing we call time management would manifest its purpose, the dream. A criminal accusation was seemingly beyond
my universe. I was merely a man trapped in the business matrix.
It's been my experience that in America ambition is rewarded when it is accompanied by effort. The likelihood that one who
perseveres in America can achieve the dream is a cause célebré. There is nothing mythical about the unlimited expanse of
opportunity in America. One that learns to circumvent politically planted explosives will improve the quality of the journey
and life expectancy immensely. That is the new adage for achievement that every performance coach must add to the old.
Anthony Robbins, Les Brown, et al.
Prologue
Now call them both to set up a meeting
The victim's excited; you know it's only fleeting.
When he arrives ready to make a deal
The agent you tell he came here to steal.
That's how the poor bastard gets arrested
Don't worry, have no fear, government's now invested.
A good defense attorney may yet unearth the scheme
But stick to your story you're on the government team.
When the cautious jurors peer through eyes in doubt
"I work for the government," you jeer, that's overwhelming clout.
Please do not chastise me for lying to the jury
For I am well known as a brigand, a baddy.
To protect you "the system" hires miscreants like me
I am a confidential informant I do this for a fee.
Blame officials for your burden, your weight, your load
Not I, a scoundrel, a knave, a rogue.
As you labor in vain for your deserved relief
It's the system not I that gives you so much grief.
When judges view perjury in staire decisis
They know the facts are not bona fides.
The fault is it mine that you rot in jail?
Hell, officials know my testimony was entirely a tale.
Chapter One - America Dreaming
Meet My Children
"Daddy, what's a reverse merger?
That Friday I had successfully negotiated nearly an hour of mind numbing traffic on
I 285-an art form I perfected. I left the office and headed southwest for a twenty five minute drive during normal traffic
conditions. I was hoping to get to Montessori School in Decatur on time to avoid extra child care expenses - a daily goal
I sometimes missed by no more than fifteen minutes.
Khari, my eight year old son, and Nailah, my seven year old daughter, sprinted to my car.
The winner got to sit directly behind dad. Off came the backpacks before they slipped on the seatbelts and snapped the buckles in unison.
I enjoyed watching this routine from the rear view mirror, adjusted to safely monitor
traffic behind me without compromising the view of their back seat routines. As the duo broke rhythm, Nailah withdrew her
favorite book from its hiding place and Khari grabbed his Game Boy™ carefully secured before we left for school that morning. There
are compartments to my car only known to my children - areas perhaps unknown to the manufacturer.
Khari, entranced in the game, was unresponsive to natural stimuli. He even ignored a
punch from Nailah delivered as punishment for ignoring her question. He was Game Boy™ comatose, trapped in the matrix. I was
surprised when he asked, "Daddy, what's a reverse merger?"
I returned my cell phone to the console, touching the end button to stop the bleeding. I hadn't
realized Khari heard my end of the cell conversation. His ability to pinpoint particular content surprised me. I explained that a
reverse merger is a business structure, somewhat the opposite of an Initial Public Offering (IPO), a tactical vehicle to access
capital markets.
Chapter Five - My 9-11 Trial
As I flew back to Atlanta my thoughts were on 9-11.
"Babe, you're not in the mood of a man who just won a major legal victory." Monica
meant to be encouraging. "Cheer up, babe, you won this war, you'll win the next, you're a winner, babe." She knew that
I was thinking of the upcoming trial.
I have no fear of challenge by another mortal. I'd been in business twenty years
and was thus no stranger to the civil courts. But never did I expect to have the state as my opponent. I had lived
life guided by reason and respect for laws, mindful of the power vested in those to whom we entrust our aggregate
will -government.
"You've hired the best lawyer; it'll be okay, babe."
Maybe so, but he's not adequately prepared because of his family crisis. When
the trial date was moved up, allowing a mere ten days for preparation, I was deeply troubled. Three days earlier
when I left Atlanta for Phoenix, Whitfield thought a dismissal of the charges was likely. Had it caused him to slack
off a bit? How could he expect twenty two witnesses for the defense to avail themselves on such short notice? Professionals, each
with their own demanding travel schedules. I knew he hadn't pursued Johanna's lead as to the Stephen Peters/Wendell Blount
origin of the case.
On Wednesday September 5, 2001, Whitfield made a sudden and seemingly desperate request
for an enormous volume of documents. "James, I need copies of all your corporate and personal bank records, financial
records, and tax returns for the last three years." Apparently he decided on a defense strategy only six days prior to the trial.
Chapter Fourteen: Letter to the 43rd President
Dear Dubya,
This letter ascends from the lowest office in our great nation (prison) to the highest - the United States Presidency. A legal subtlety binds the
distance between us. You and I assumed our respective offices by orders from the court.
Chapter Fifteen: Doing Time for OJ
A man that I revere, William "Bill" Cosby, voiced the opinion that "these are not political prisoners." I hope he did not intend to convey that
the percentage of black men in America's prisons (a percentage eight and half times what it was in apartheid South Africa) is free of the pervading
influence of politics.
Chapter Thirteen: Letter to Judge David C. Bralmette, III
The guidelines are such that the courts, under a mandate from Congress, have very little discretion now; and sometimes there
are cases when a judge wishes he had discretion.
-March 26, 2002, Judge David C. Bramlette, III
Chapter Sixteen - Letter to the American Principal
Dear Fellow American:
The pre eminence of the United States Constitution is ever vulnerable to encroachment by her
subordinate triumvirate of power. Her life and her purpose expressed in the preamble are merely a declaration of national purpose. The
inert instrument cannot ensure that rights embodied in it persevere. The spirit of liberty which gave her birth must be fed and
sustained by political will. Briefly:
The United States Constitution pronounces principles
by which Americans would be governed. The lifeless
instrument cannot itself bequeath the abundance it
holds. The spirit of liberty which comprises the scroll
resides within the people's will. Thus, legitimate
government is a measure: Is there a congruence
between governance and Constitution?
I trust that this effort won't be wasted. I find refuge in knowing I'm not the first person to trust the populace,
as what I feel was already expressed by another. One who, though controversial in his time, did undoubtedly share a quantum of universal truths.
So you might say a concurrence of political thought gives cause to this purpose:
The populace is never corrupted but it is often tricked
and only then does it appear to want what is bad.
Jean-Jacques Rosseau
Eighteenth Century Swiss Philosopher
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