Idaho
Springs, Colorado may seem like a quiet, peaceful, and even quaint little town
off I-70 in the mountains west of Denver.
However, in the early afternoon of October 30, 2012, the Clear Creek
County Sheriff's office proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that looks can be
extremely deceiving. Make no mistake;
this is not a kind-hearted Mayberry RFD type of law enforcement. This was a tactical, military-style assault
against unarmed, peaceful protesters.
But
first, let's go back a bit in order to give you a little better understanding
of the events leading up to, as well as during, their demonstration of excessive
use of force.
Sahara
Donahue has lived in her home for over 20 years, has been a volunteer in her
community, and was a decent law-abiding citizen. She suffered injuries from a near-fatal
accident, including a head injury that was not properly diagnosed until over a
year after the accident. She could no
longer perform the duties of her job, and therefore was forced to rely on the
generosity of friends to help pay her mortgage for several years. She made every attempt to communicate and
work with the banks, and even retained the services of an attorney, in the
hopes of finding some resolution to keep her home. However, the banks (as well as a corrupt Realtor) apparently had different plans.
Near the
end of her financial resources, she reached out for help and Occupy Denver
along with Colorado Foreclosure Resistance Coalition (CFRC) responded. People began sending word out via phone
calls, emails, social media, and any other means possible to spread awareness
of the situation. Some even responded by
travelling to stand with Sahara at her home.
A potential eviction on Thursday (Oct 25) did not occur, so even more
people began to heed the call to protest the next expected eviction on Tuesday
(Oct 30). Also, several of us gathered in front of the US Bank building in
downtown Denver at noon on Monday to support Sahara as she attempted to gain
entry into the building to physically speak to someone, and request a 60-day extension
in order to find other living arrangements.
After
she was given a run-around by US Bank, several of us made our way up the canyon
to stand with her and support her in case the eviction went through the
following day. Later in the day we were
informed that the only compromise offered to Sahara involved her immediate
eviction -- BUT -- they would be magnanimous enough to store her things for 30
days. Those of us at the house began
planning our course of action for the remainder of the night as well as for
Eviction Day.
We
barricaded the driveway with fallen trees to limit access to the
house, and held several impromptu meetings to discuss our
tactics. Sahara's wishes were for us to
be respectful when the Sheriff arrived, since she has a history with this
community. We agreed that we would all
respect her wishes and approach the situation in a peaceful manner. We were led to believe that the Realtor would
be arriving with a crew of workers to remove items from the house, and that the
Sheriff would be there to "keep the peace."
Sahara had also asked one of the group's members to be a spokesman. He would speak directly with those who
arrived and deliver legal letters to the Sheriff. This way things would proceed smoothly and
help eliminate any unnecessary escalation.
As night
closed in we shared stories, discussed ideas, and enjoyed each other's company
in a very peaceful, positive environment.
Eventually people began to settle down for the night. Most were sleeping in the house on couches or
on the floor, while I and another went out to sleep in our tents beside the
barricade in case of any unexpected late-night surprises.
The
following morning we all began to stir as coffee was brewing. There seemed to
be an overall sense of optimism among the group. We received word of some more people coming
up to join us, and we had another meeting to determine tactics regarding the
expected arrivals for the eviction.
Several of us collected more timber to fortify the barricades, others
were making food, and everyone was ready for whatever was coming (or so we
thought).
The
first arrival of the day was a truck hauling a dumpster that was apparently to
be left there for the workers to put her things in. Seeing the barricades, he got out and spoke
with us. He was very friendly and
supportive towards us, and then called his supervisor who after several minutes
instructed him to bring the dumpster back.
We had our first victory of the day and the excitement filled the air.
A while
later a white van filled with workers from a "day labor" company pulled up and
stopped. These were the men who were
supposed to remove her belongings from the house. They needed to wait for the Sheriff to
arrive, and since there is no cell-phone service in the area, they just relaxed
and spoke with us for a while. We even
tried to recruit a few of them to stand with us, but to no avail. Finally they decided to leave in order to go
back down the mountain to find a place with better reception to make
calls. We all began a second celebration
as we filled the air with singing, "Na na na na, hey hey hey, GOOD-BYE!"
Things
were really starting to look up for us.
We felt we had made some incredible progress. Then we heard a vehicle coming. Around the corner I saw a Sheriff's vehicle
through the trees as it was approaching.
Then I saw behind it another, and another, and another. About 10 vehicles filled with men in what
appeared to be full battle gear (and assault weapons already in hand) began to
fill the road in front of the house. In
all our planning and meetings, we never expected this kind of response. After all, we were led to believe that the
Sheriff was only going to be there to "keep the peace." And don't forget that we were
unarmed, peaceful demonstrators.
The
spokesman of our group got on the megaphone and began trying to get everyone to
converge up at the house, but it was already too late. The Tactical Response Team had already
reacted. As we were rushing up the driveway,
we were cut off by several men gripping their assault rifles as they began
shouting at us to get on the ground on our knees. To my left, the spokesman was coming up,
shouting on the megaphone, attempting to discern who was in charge since he had
the letters to deliver. The officers didn't
care; in fact as the spokesman was telling them he had letters, one of the
officers shouted back, "No, you don't have letters!", and they continued
ordering us to get on our knees. We
remained standing and continued trying to open up some kind of conversation.
At this
point, I was standing there with the spokesman, and a few others. I am about 6'2" tall and about 200 lbs. The others standing with me were as big, if
not bigger, with the exception of an older gentleman to my left. Since none of us would get on our knees,
these fully armed, militarized officers decided to arrest the smallest and
oldest person there. With all their
firepower and intimidation techniques, they targeted the least imposing person
there. They put him face down in the
dirt and gravel, and cuffed his hands behind him with their zip-tie handcuffs.
Finally,
the man in charge came forward, but when he was presented with the letters, he
informed us that he would take them but it didn't matter. He then folded them up without even really
looking at them. It was obvious that those with the money and the guns couldn't
have cared less about the injustice taking place, and they were ready and
willing to do whatever was necessary to shut us down.
I was
offered a ride by one of the activists, since the Sheriff was so gracious to
let some of us go without further incident.
As we made our way down the private drive, we saw at the bottom of the
hill the bulldozer that was just waiting to tear through our barricades, and the
van of day-labor workers ready to fulfill their job descriptions. After a couple turns down Hwy 103 another
realization occurred to me. There on the
shoulder of the road was an ambulance waiting on stand-by. Maybe I am mistaken, but it would appear that
the Sheriff's Department was prepared to do, and had every intention of doing,
whatever was necessary to obey their bank's wishes.
We
pulled into a local convenience store after making it into town. As we sat collecting our thoughts, and trying
to decompress after the events that had transpired, I was struck by something
else. I watched the people of the town
as they nonchalantly passed by and it occurred to me that this was a sort of
metaphor about our entire society today.
Just up the hill, innocent people were having guns shoved in their
faces, people were being evicted from their homes, and much more. At the same time, the rest of the town went
about its daily routine, completely oblivious as to what was going on just
around the corner.
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