Why Represent Criminals (Part II)

It's Personal

Growing up I always dreamed of a career in law enforcement. My particular interest was working for the FBI fighting organized crime. It seemed very exciting and glamous to me.

However it was not to be. Something happened that changed the way I viewed things forever.

On May 25, 1996, the night before I was to graduate from high school, I was arrested and charged with Malicious Destructiion of Property over $100, which was a 2-4 year felony in those days. A friend and I had taken BB guns and show at the window of a school. This was a Saturday night and no one was in the building. I fired one shot, he fired fourteen. None penetrated all the way through the double paned glass. We had originally planned on shooting BB guns in my backyard at aluminum cans and the like. For some reason, he pulled into that school parking lot. In any event, some one saw us and called the police.

When the police arrived (as a I recall there were four cars and 6 officers total), I was roughly pushed into the hood of my friend's car and searched. I recall that I lifted my hands up off the car about an inch to be more comfortable while the officder searched my pockets. He grabbed me and "put them back on the car, I am not going to tell you again." They put the handcuffs on so tight that my right thumb and index finger went numb. To this day, my right thumb does not have full feeling. They wouldn't grant any my requests to loosen them.

We were never given miranda rights and we both confessed on the spot. I can't into words how quickly I was "scared straight." They kept telling us that we were going to spend 2-4 years in prison for this. That seems awfully harsh to me for what essentially amounted to breaking a window, but I really didn't know any better.

They took us to the Kent County Jail where we were booked and put in a cell for the night. I remember laying in that cold cell unable to sleep, wondering if I was going to get out again. I never could have imagined how much I was simply wanted to get up and walk out the door of the cell. Not to escape but to have some sense of freedom. I really missed the choices I had every moment of every day. I laid there wondering how long that would be jeopardized for. It was incredibly frightening.

The next morning I spoke with a detective who told me that this was not a serious crime and that I was not likely to see any jail from this if I was cooperative and told the truth. He did read me my miranda rights and was a bit more civil. I think he realized that I wasn't a deliquent but a kid who made  mistake.

We were arraigned later that morning and I was released in time to attend my high school graduation. The clerk at the jail told me that charges had been dismissed. Needless to say, some of the joy was taken out of the event.

(Part III forthcoming)

Ryan Maesen, Criminal Lawyer in Grand Rapids, MI
www.maesenlawfirm.com