Tales of the Crazy

by Charles L Cole

  It was a traditional LCMS service. Pastor Frank Pies gave the sermon about Mom. He had been the senior pastor until his retirement in 2007, when Pastor Thoma took over as senior pastor. Pastor Thoma led the rest of the service.

  There was a lunch at church after the service. Many people from Our Savior came up and told me how much they’d loved and respected Mom. Toward the end of the lunch, Jess walked in. No one greeted her, and her showing up was a surprise to me. As usual she was late. I took her to the table Dad and I were at and got a few things for her to eat. I really didn’t want to see her at all, but I had to appear thankful she had arrived.

  After the lunch, the family and close friends came over to Mom and Dad’s house. Jess went home instead. That was a very good thing, as I’m sure many of the family would have gone off on her once we were out of church. A few of the family from my mom’s side said how much they hated Jess for what she had done to our family and me. Mom was very close to her sister, Katherine, and had told her much of what had gone on with Jess. Katherine had told the rest of the family before Mom’s death, and they were very upset and angry with Jess.

  Many of the friends and family had an incredible amount of contempt toward Jess, and their hate was fueled by the loss of Mom. They did keep many of their comments to me under control, as this was the time to grieve and remember Mom and not to lash out at Jess. I said to them that if I’d told Jess the brutal truth that I didn’t want her at Mom’s memorial and the way that I really felt about her, Jess would probably turn on me. She would go even more psycho, if that were possible, and make up more false stories out of vengeance. I worried she’d push for the DV conviction and anything else she could charge me with. They told me they would keep quiet until this charge was taken care of.

  During a reunion for Mom’s side of the family a year later, they didn’t hold back and told me how they felt about Jess. One cousin told me that when she saw Jess come in close to the end of the memorial lunch, she’d felt like dragging Jess outside and “slapping the shit out of her.”

  The next day I was back in the mode of looking for any evidence I could use for my defense. Jess was asleep, so I took her phone and poked around in it. I saw disturbing text messages about divorce sent a few days earlier between her and a mutual friend Alice. It was clear Jess had been plotting and thinking about a divorce and that she was deleting texts after sending them. She probably thought getting me arrested was the last straw and that I would file for divorce. She got one thing right for once. Alice had sent her the name of a divorce lawyer to check out.

  Based on her past behavior, I wasn’t too worried about Jess filing. She was the queen of procrastination. Plus she had to keep me around to continue to leech off me. If I was gone, her money and lifestyle would be gone also.

  A week later Michael Vincent’s office manager, Amanda, e-mailed me the police report. This was the first time I had seen it, and reading the report was extremely disturbing and hard to take.

  It was unbelievable. The cops wrote that Jess “appeared to be terrified of her spouse and admitted same during my interview.” Further down, the cops outright lied about my conduct. Assholes. The one who’d written the report claimed that after I was advised I was under arrest, I tightened my jaw muscles and had my arms folded as I stared at him. The cop wrote, “I advised him again that he was under arrest and he was to place his hands behind his back. Charles did not move and continued to stare at me. So I grabbed his arm and placed it behind his back, and he was arrested without incident.”

  What a lying, dishonest prick. When I went outside, the cop told me I was being arrested and being handcuffed, and then I put my arms in front of me. The cop grabbed my arm and yelled at me to put my hands behind my back. I sure wish I had a video to prove what really happened. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt fear and other emotions as I read this report with the false statements by the police and the completely ridiculous false statements Jess had made.

  There were statements from her saying I was pounding walls with my fists and that she feared for her life. Was that what she really thought when she was in the grips of her emotional fits? How could she even feel this when things like that never happened? It was so out of touch with reality, but that was what she’d apparently told the cops. The prosecutor was basing the case on Jess’s statements without even considering any other evidence. I felt it was staggering bias and incompetence on the prosecutor’s part—she didn’t even care about finding the truth so that justice could prevail. After this was over, I intended to pursue a civil case against Washtenaw County for malicious prosecution.

  After I read this report, my fear was replaced with anger. I was way past being simply angry; I was in a rage over all the lies she had told about me. This false report spelled serious trouble for me. Going through all this hell with the jail experience and then reading this really put me in a seriously pissed-off mood. After the years of putting up with her crap and bailing her out of trouble again and again, this was the end result of my standing by her.

  I yelled, “Fuck the police! Nothing but a bunch of lying assholes.” Thinking about Jess, I yelled, “Bitch! Whore! Lying cunt!” There were a lot more choice words about her.

  It was way out of character for me to yell like this. I try my best not to use profanity—it’s vulgar and low-class. My avoiding the use of profanity was due to a talk my grandfather Cole gave me when I was a kid. I was going through a cussing phase, and he’d set me straight. He told me a very simple truth: “Morons and idiots use profanity to stress their point.” They use profanity as a verbal crutch because they can’t think of anything else to reasonably articulate what’s on their mind. He went into how swearing did nothing to improve a man’s character; it only took away from it. He asked me if I’d noticed whether guys swore more when they were with other guys. I said yes, and he said it was because they were followers and were weak. They swore because others were doing it; they wanted to be accepted, to be one of the guys, and were not strong enough to be their own man.

  This talk by my grandfather really sank in. I still remember as a kid watching others swear and thinking their behavior was exactly as Grandpa had said. It’s even true with adults. Later on in life, I realized great men and women of character do not need to swear. It’s beneath them to act that way. People who used the most profanity tended to be those I didn’t want to associate with. They were not people I could look up to with respect.

  This is also true with many entertainers or comedians today. Instead of developing truly good routines, they substitute f-bombs or other vulgarities in talentless attempts to get laughs. The last comedy club I went to was horrible, and the alleged comedian thought it was funny hurling out f-bombs. I walked out five minutes into his routine.

  Whenever I got angry and swore, later on, I realized that instead of using my mind, emotions had grabbed hold, and I had blurted out something stupid. Anger and hostility had clouded my mind and caused me to stop using my brain and instead act like a moron. Grandpa’s wisdom has proved itself countless times throughout my life.

  Dealing with the stress of my mother’s death while reading the police report’s sheer level of malice and falseness got me incredibly upset. At that moment I failed to keep composure and use reason. It took a while to calm down, start thinking clearly, and plan the next steps for my defense.

  Jess had talked to the prosecutor, trying to convince her that what was on the report hadn’t happened, but the prosecutor refused to consider Jess’s statements. Jess wouldn’t stop accusing the police of lying and saying Laura had fed the police false information. I knew, based on her past behavior, that when she got into these severe emotional states of rage or hopelessness, she would say crazy things but would deny them later on to protect herself.

  She had done many things in the past she denied, but this incident was a huge leap from anything else she had done and had completely screwed up my life. She was in complete denial and refused to admit that this was in
any way her fault; she wouldn’t admit to the smallest of wrongdoing. In her mind, everyone else was lying; she was the victim, and it was my fault for not understanding how she was affected by this.

  This was not just my problem; it was an unnecessary burden being put on society. The cost of this prosecution to the taxpayers was very substantial. Adding to this, twelve other people were now going to have their lives disrupted by having to serve on a jury. Many more would have their lives disrupted when they were summoned to go through the jury selection process. I would probably say a few choice words when I saw the next round of ballot proposals with Washtenaw County asking for more taxes to fund their screwed-up legal machine.

  Here is a thought: Never vote for these types of tax increases. This will force the incompetent fools to streamline the process and only prosecute those who have been fully vetted with evidence and deemed deserving of prosecution. This process of going after someone based only on one crazy person’s statements without even wanting to seek the truth is a horrible injustice for both society and the victims of these types of prosecutorial incompetence and misconduct.

  I used to think that most people arrested had done something to deserve it, but I know now that’s not the case. When I was in jail, I really felt that this matter would be cleared up once the truth got out. What a fool I was to believe that. When I listened to the other prisoners complain about how Washtenaw County abused people’s rights and railroaded them, I didn’t believe them. The prisoners spoke in very profane and demeaning ways about the prosecutors and how they didn’t care about justice, but only increasing conviction rates, extorting money, and getting free labor on work crews. From my recent experience, this reputation about Washtenaw County is very true and well deserved.

  My false assumption at the beginning of this mess was that the cops, prosecutor, and legal system actually wanted to seek the truth. That’s not completely true either.

  I saw a story on the news about a New York man released from prison after serving thirty years on a wrongful murder conviction. I could completely understand how this happened, especially because it was very clear to me that the prosecutor charging me was not interested in finding out the truth; she only wanted a conviction. These types of prosecutors with such a callous disregard for truth or justice have no place putting people behind bars. There needs to be a better system for vetting people who serve in this capacity; we need to see who has the character to do this properly without bias and who wants to uphold truth.

  My next hearing was October 20, and during this, Michael Vincent flip-flopped at court, decided not to have an evidentiary hearing, and asked for this to go right to trial with a jury. The jury selection hearing was scheduled for December 5. Maybe taking the chance of not having a hearing to examine evidence and going right to trial was the right course of action. I didn’t know at this point. Michael told me he did not want to let the prosecutor know the sheer volume of evidence we had of Jess’s screwed-up behavior.

  Recently a recruiter called me about a position available in Minnesota. I had a phone interview with their chief engineer, and the company wanted me to travel there for an interview. I didn’t want to leave Ford, but this new position was very well suited for me. Who knew—it might be a good opportunity to start my life over with a better job somewhere else without Jess. I had to ask the court permission to travel out of state in Minnesota. The judge granted my travel, but I had to go into the probation office after that morning’s hearing to fill out paperwork for the judge to sign. Going into a probation office really sucked, as I knew I hadn’t done anything to deserve this or even be convicted of a crime. It was a horrible feeling being treated like a convicted criminal.

  Later in the evening, I ordered parts for a new PC so that I could use the old one as a security system that recorded video and audio. I had to protect myself with evidence if Jess went off the rails again. It was a very real possibility that I would get thrown in jail again if she told another wild story to feed her victim mentality. I learned that truth does not matter when you get pulled into the justice system with a prosecutor looking to put another notch in her gun. What matters is whether the prosecutor can get a successful prosecution based solely on one person’s statements and emotions, and Jess was a master of emotional manipulation.

  If something else were to happen in the future, the only way to prove my innocence was to have hard evidence showing video and audio. For now I was completely screwed with the DV charge; I couldn’t prove what Jess told the cops didn’t happen. It was very tough to keep taking these hits, knowing that the truth did not matter. If I’d had a recording of what had really happened leading up to my arrest, especially proving the cops had lied about my resisting arrest, all the DV charges could have been thrown out almost immediately. I would have saved thousands in legal fees and eliminated much of the emotional toll. I also would have filed a civil suit against the cops for lying on the police report to justify my arrest.

  A month went by, and on November 18, Jess finally destroyed her friendship with Steve and Katrina. They had been willing to forgive her for the lies she had told them about me because they knew she had many issues, but this latest incident made them very angry with her.

  Steve and Katrina had been storing about thirty boxes of dresses at their home for close to a year and were trying to help Jess sell the inventory, but Jess would not cooperate and kept coming up with excuses about why she couldn’t help. They offered to take all the inventory, saying their father would rent a warehouse and try to sell the dresses. We would get a portion of the profit, if there was any.

  Jess was demanding $10,000 up front, but I tried to talk her out of it. She would not listen. I asked her to consider going down to $5,000 and then, out of frustration, told her I was staying out of it. She was too unreasonable and refused to budge. She was causing more problems by trying to control everything, even though all the boxes of dresses had been sitting in our home since 2008, and she had done nothing in six years to sell them. The deal fell apart, due entirely to Jess’s crazy behavior, and Steve and Katrina asked me to take the thirty boxes back into my home.

  Steve and Katrina were very upset that Jess had acted this way. When I went over to get the boxes, they told me again that they were very sorry for believing her at first. Katrina gave me a big hug. During the start of moving the dresses, Katrina was very cold and distant to Jess and wanted nothing to do with her.

  Jess sent them a text accusing them of not being direct with her and was angry they had called me to take care of the dresses. In the text, she accused them of causing marriage issues between us. Jess forwarded the text to me.

  On November 25, the last of the boxes from Steve and Katrina’s were back in my house. My dining room was full of boxes and unusable. I had lost count of how many times I had shifted these damned boxes around to try to make more room. After we got all of them back, Jess accused Steve and Katrina of stealing dresses even though she didn’t make any effort to go through all the boxes. She thought some dresses were missing, but she didn’t even look for them. I spoke with Steve about Jess’s accusations, and that made them even angrier with her.

  When I was at their house loading dresses, I spoke with Steve more about this DV charge, and they asked if there was anything they could do. They were willing to testify on my behalf and to tell the judge about Jess’s lies and manipulations. I asked if Steve and Katrina could call the prosecutor and tell her what they knew Jess had done. Later Steve called me and said Katrina would be happy to call the prosecutor. Katrina was still very upset with all the lies Jess had told them and the trouble she had caused everyone.

  A few days later, Steve gave me a call and told me the prosecutor would not back down. Katrina informed the prosecutor of the lies Jess had told them, all the problems she had caused, and that I was not capable of the acts Jess had reported to the police. The prosecutor asked if Jess had ever admitted she lied to the police, but Katrina said no. Katrina also informed the prosecuto
r that Jess had told her shortly after I was arrested that she could be charged with making a false police report. Katrina described to the prosecutor how she had told Jess that, for my sake, she had to start telling the truth to clear this up, but Jess had stayed silent and was scared of being arrested. Katrina also told the prosecutor Jess had told her Laura was the one who’d lied to the police. The prosecutor said that without a direct admission from Jess that she had lied, she would not drop this case.

  Now that Jess destroyed her friendship with Steve and Katrina, she had ruined virtually all her long-term friendships with people who knew the whole situation with me. She didn’t have anyone close to talk with now. Some of her ex-friends told me she was crazy. Jess had only a few distant or new friends remaining, but I had no contact with them. I was sure she had fed them all sorts of misinformation to make it look like she was the victim in all the trouble she had caused.

  On December 4, I had another meeting with Michael to discuss the hearing scheduled for the next day.

  In the morning, Jess sent me a text calling this situation an “injustice.” I was sure she considered it an injustice because in her mind, everyone else had caused this legal problem, not her.

  Her text showed how she had to be the center of attention. I was up on serious charges, but she had to shift the focus to her and her feelings. Screw her feelings and her victim mentality. I didn’t care how bad she felt. I was like Spock thinking, It does not compute, when dealing with her. It was mind blowing to see her try to justify such irrational behavior.

  I went to Michael Vincent’s office at 3:00 p.m., but I spoke with another attorney there, since Michael was still in court on another case. The other attorney told me that with recent stories in the media about celebrities knocking their girlfriends around, Michael felt that a jury might be biased. They might rule not on evidence but on emotion. He planned to have it changed to a bench trial tomorrow, as a judge would be more objective with facts.