They say "Crime Doesn't Pay". Those wisemen were right. My sortid and revolutionary past has finally caught up with me. I speak not of the speeding ticket I got in Mississippi in 1988, which I never paid, (I really tried, I called the States Attorney to see if I could get court supervision, but apparently that state had no such person in 1988). No, apparently this unfortunate moment in history stems from a slight "misunderstanding" in Chicago in 1991, where I promptly told a Chicago cop to "f*** off" - something which we now teach Aidan and Hunter never to do!
It was with great joy and excitement, I met Aric in Frankfurt airport 2 weeks ago, on our way to Miami and on to Mexico. In fact, we were so happy to see each other after 4 weeks apart, that Aric left his Blackberry and watch behind in the security tray - but that's a story for the next blog. So off to Miami we went and I happily slapped my fingers down on the scanner for finger print and picture records. A few stamps in the passport and off we went. While frolicking in the Mexican gulf with our friends Brandi and Brian, Homeland Security was busy sending my details through their mega database.
As we returned to Miami from Cancun, and lined up in the "resident and citizen" lane, we were still being silly with vacation excitement, because we would soon arrive at our Sanibel home where friends and family awaited. The immigration officer looked at our passports, then us, then our passports, then me, then our customs form, then Aric - and said in a grave voice "is this your home?" Aric replied, yes we are just here for 4 days of golf before returning to the Middle East! Just then he asked me - "Have you ever been arrested?" "No". "Never?" "NO"! (quizzing look at Aric, as if he understood that question). At that point, a red light went off above my head and the officer took my passport and stuffed in a red folder, which he handed to another officer, who then escorted us to a back office. Personally I was baffled, but didn't get any answers by the escorting officer. Once inside the door - and one quick look around - I knew this was serious! 30-40 people of mostly Haitian or S. American descent filled a 15' x 15' room. Kids crying and faces full of fear. Aric said there must have been a mistake, he was a US citizen and what were we hauled in there for? "Just have a seat until your name is called"!
Well, after 30 minutes I had sussed out our surroundings and spoken to a couple across the bench from us. He was also a US citizen and had a wife from Antiqua. They had waited nearly two and a half hours. Shucks man - we had a 3 hour drive to Sanibel and it was already 9pm! I was really getting irritated and no calls were allowed, to let anyone know we were detained.
One by one, the suspicious people were called up to a counter. I took comfort in the fact that there was another blonde woman, until they called - "Katinka Slanovitz, from Ukraine" - oh boy, she was either a former olympic gymnast, a prostitute or a spy, I deducted. Aric was quietly brewing and we spent half an hour discussing whether we were detained because he said the words "Middle East"...it could be a codeword and once you say it out loud, the light goes on. I was convinced it had to do with this and it was all Aric's fault.
Finally, nearly 3 hours later, they called me: "Pia Charlotte Leismann Ault" (you think they could have cooled it on my middle names, like there would have been other Pia's in a room full of dark skinned men?) - not from the counter, but from yet another back area....must have been where the more serious suspects were hauled in....Aric and I got up and the officer told Aric he was not needed, just me. Christ, it was like entering the CIA or NSA room with men staring at goats, back there.
Officer D. Flynt asked me to take a seat, while commenting that "your husband sure is upset" - Doah, ya think? 3 hours of no knowledge of why we were there. "It's classified mam...we aren't allowed to tell you why you're being detained" - gee whiz you don't say! Then the serious interrogation started. "Have you ever been arrested?" NO. "Never?" NO. "Ever been to Chicago?" Yes, I lived there for 16 years, but then you have that info in front of you on the screen!! "Nothing ever happened in Chicago?" Define 'happened' - "you ever get in trouble where the police was called?" Suddenly from way back in my distant memory bank, a dim light started to flicker. He must have been trained in psycho analysis because he started to grin, and when I asked him, what I supposedly was arrested for, he replied with a big smile: "Criminal damage to property.....ring a bell?"
"OH, that old story....well the guy was a jerk and the case was dismissed". There is no reason to dwell on the details here - suffice it to say, for my dear readers, that my Danish friend Mette, and I got a little happy at happy hour after work on a Friday, and when we went to get her car, it had been towed. One thing led to another and the guy working at the towing place and I got in an argument. When I decided to call the police, he wrestled the phone out of my hand and the handset broke. Cheap phone! Of course I got blamed.....classic set-up, 'The blonde did it'-scenario! When the cop showed up and I tried to explain, he acted real tough and told me to shut up and sit down, to which I blurted "f*** you". Chicago cops apparently don't like that. The rest is a blur ;-)
I told Flynt it was really silly and that I wasn't really arrested....he patiently said: "were you finger printed?" Yes. "Was your picture taken, perhaps from several angles, while holding a sign with numbers?" Uhmm yes. "Were you handcuffed?" Oh, yes I remember now, I think I was, but I was never read my rights! Flynt replied "I think we can safely deduct that you were arrested, not convicted sweetheart, but arrested - and that means that every time you enter the US from now on, you have to come and see "us" !!
Buggers.
Fast forward from 1991 to 2010 and the record of my finger prints had made it from the Illinois state police computer, to the FBI files, to Homeland Security, to D. Flynt - talk about taxpayers money at work - all while I had entered, exited and re-entered the US inside a week. 20 years to update a file that was fairly benign.
Flynt shared with me I now even had an FBI file number...I'm so proud! And not until I become a resident again, or a US citizen, would this be erased. I told Flynt that was not likely to happen, with the way they treated visitors here. I then told him that I would blog this whole affair! He said "good idea, but make sure you don't write that you spent two f***ng hours in this shit place" - I couldn't believe he swore in front of me. He was very young - like right out of the academy - but still, I should report him for swearing. So, he then took my passport to his supervisor, who quickly determined that my crime was not a threat to national security and I was then sent on my way, with my fuming husband.
Next time I visit the US, I must remember to wear a shirt with my FBI number for faster expediting!
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