ZGram - 10/23/2003 - Prisoner of Conscience Letter # 23

[zgrams at zgrams.zundelsite.org]

Zgram - Where Truth is Destiny:  Now more than ever!

October 23, 2003

Good Morning from the Zundelsite:

I am still catching up on the chronology of events of Life in the 
Canadian Gulag!  In a letter I received early in September, dated 
August 27th, Ernst wrote:

[START]

I am sorry I did not get access to the phone again last night!  I 
hope Paul [Fromm] got a chance to talk to you or email to you about 
the latest developments on the Northern Front. 

Doug [Christie, Defense Attorney] called me yesterday morning with 
one of these always frustrating conference calls - lots of technical 
snafus!  He was scheduled to have a three-way conference between 
himself, [the government prosecutor] MacIntosh, and Judge Blais. 
Cosmic static all around!  There really has to be something going on 
cosmically or psychically in this "verhexte" [cursed] situation.  I 
have never ever in all my long years of litigation faced this kind of 
a thing!  Ever!  Not at the worst of times!

Doug said he would one more time raise the issue of no pillow, no 
sheets, no highlighter, pens, post-it notes, also no chair, and 
infrequent "fresh air" allotments.  He called me back, said the judge 
wanted written submissions on the issue of whether he was prejudiced. 
Then he would announce his decision on September 23rd if he stayed on 
the case or not.  More suspense!  More costs incurred by Doug!

About my inconveniences, Doug said that at first the judge hmmed and 
hawwed, but then apparently must have talked to MacIntosh, and 
MacIntosh promised to talk to some high-ranking official in a 
provincial ministry. Imagine our judge, a former Cabinet minister, 
having to get together with Canada's highest Nazi war crimes 
prosecutor to get your husband a pillow - after over three months in 
this prison!  That's how it was left.

I was slightly skeptical about this cornucopia of goodies and 
amelioration to come. What I had not told you before, in order not to 
upset you, is this:  Those padded sheets I have been sleeping on 
since May 16, '03 have not been changed in 3 months and 10 days! 
They do better in Tajikistan or Outer Slobovia! Also, the prison 
doctor had promised to "prescribe" a pillow for me because of the rib 
cage discomfort, which he thought might be "acid reflex".  He also 
prescribed two arm wrist supports to help with the pain in my arms. 
He thought it might be carpal tunnel syndrome.  The gadgets arrived, 
sat for two weeks in the guards' office until some older, experienced 
guard saw the packages and an order by the doctor to give them to me 
during the night to put on.  He brought them.  I tried them on.  They 
fit and seemed to help.  However, the night shift guards, for some 
reason, are not all that cooperative.  They definitely don't want to 
bend down to lift the lid on my plastic bin to retrieve these gizmos 
in the morning and give them back to me at night.  I asked.  I was 
simply ignored by the guard.  He did not want to hear my request, 
even though he was writing something down on my chart by the door. 
When I repeated my request, he shook his head in an annoyed way as if 
to shoo away some fly.  No carpal tunnel relief that night!  So just 
because the doctor prescribes something does not mean the prisoner 
gets the benefit! 

By three o'clock, the hall was abuzz outside my cell with activity. 
Lots of guards!  Captains!  The Captain who was the first to welcome 
me here in a Blount County prison style came into my cell, ordered me 
out into the hall, told me, "We are going to get you a pillow, some 
sheets, more regular fresh air, showers etc. - but first the guards 
are going to search your cell and take out a few things..."

What he was talking about were all those styrofoam cups in which I 
mix my "Dr. Lorraine Day" liquid diet - 12 cups of very thinned-down 
apple juice or orange juice to "flavor" the fluoridated liquid, which 
I have a real problem drinking down each day.  Dr. Day had said to me 
on the phone that this would help to get my blood pressure down 
naturally by thinning my blood.  I had started that regimen already 
in the Thorold prison.  There, the guards and security chiefs looked 
at that line-up of cups in my sink resembling urine samples, shook 
their heads, laughed - and that was that!  Well, not so yesterday!

This efficient captain told me sternly, after I explained to him the 
reasons for the cups and the water juice diet, that it was against 
regulations to "self-medicate", that I was a hazard to myself, and 
that only treatment prescribed by the prison doctor and medical staff 
were allowed to inmates.  Out into the garbage went all my carefully 
saved styrofoam cups, along with spare juice containers I use to mix 
up my magic potion for the evening.  Everything went - either down 
the drain or into the garbage!

I had made myself some cardboard writing surfaces on my table.  They 
were all ripped up!  Into the garbage they went!  All my pencils, 
too, which I kept organized in little plastic cups in which we get 
pudding or apple sauce.  I had washed these out, dried them and 
sorted all my pencils according to color and kind.  Soft pencils were 
in one container, those horrible hard prison pencils in another.  One 
container held the dull ones, which I would give to the guards to 
sharpen to make things easier for them, since they have to walk down 
the hall to do that. 

Now the guards were told to tip all of them in a pile on the table, 
and I was told by the captain that he was only going to permit a very 
limited number because, according to him, these pencil stubs, many of 
them no more than 2 1/2 - 3 1/2 inches long, present a "safety 
hazard" to the staff!

I was also told to sift all my court documents again.  I will only be 
allowed to keep a very limited number in my cell because they present 
a "fire hazard", although there is no smoking allowed and not an 
electric outlet in the entire cell!  I spent all last night until the 
lights were turned off trying to bring order into that mess on my bed 
and table to once again put like with like and see what I might need 
in court and what I can do without. 

So there you have it.  I had to give up my water diet, most of my 
pencils, many documents, most of my correspondence and many books, 
some of which you so kindly sent me.  I want history to record the 
lunacy of all this one day!  We would need Melvin Belli as a lawyer 
and the strength of the Israeli lobby to overcome institutional bias 
and inertia!  Imagine, my sweetheart - your husband being reduced to 
explain to you all this trivial stuff while civilization hangs at the 
brink of collapse!

[END]