‘Brown, 26, was an active-duty soldier at Fort Bliss in Texas who has served two tours of combat duty in Iraq. He had no previous criminal record.
When he self-reported to the El Paso County Jail in July 2012 to serve a short sentence for driving while intoxicated, he said in writing that he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, according to jail records’
Watch what happened next.
‘The family’s attorneys, Jason Bowles and B.J. Crow, said the video poses some serious questions about the county jail’s treatment of Brown.
“When a 26-year-old man checks into jail for a court imposed sentence on a Friday, and he leaves Sunday in a casket, something went horribly wrong there,“ said Crow.
Brown’s family said he had shown no history of sickle cell crisis and that they believe his treatment in jail caused the medical emergency.
Crow added the claimed stress that brought about Brown’s sickle cell crisis at the jail was apparently more stress than the soldier had undergone while twice coming under fire during combat.
“He was bleeding out the ears, the nose, the mouth, his kidney’s shut down, his blood pressure dropped to a very dangerous level, and his liver shut down,” said Crow.
Brown’s family, meanwhile, wanted the public to know what happened to him at the El Paso County jail’ /source/
Here is another illustration of the American Law enforcement system. James’ family wants the story became public, I hope that we will help to fulfill their will. In fact, such cases usually stay a mystery to the public, this time motherfuckers responsible for the murder won’t escape punishment.
I’m sure this is not the only case occurred in this prison. If the cops patrolling the streets are a real danger to people, then imagine how dangerous it’s to deal with the cops who work with prisoners. Damn! It’s so wrong…
COPS: We all know how bad you want to imagine that you’re in a combat zone. We see daily how quick you are to draw down on an unarmed black person. We watch as you dress yourself in military gear, military weapons and shield yourself in a military mentality.
I have news for you:
You’re cops. Not rangers.
The gear I see you wearing is the same gear i saw my best friends die wearing… In iraq. In combat. The weapons you carry and point at peaceful protesters, I used in combat. And let me tell you something: If i EVER pointed my weapon at an innocent civilian or someone i did not intend to kill, my ass would get chewed the fuck up. And yet, i see groups of you pointing your rifles at AMERICANS with your fingers on the trigger, safety off, ready to kill someone.
Every time i see a group of you walking down the street or buzzing down the road in a squad car i see an occupying force. I see presence patrols. I imagine that the Iraqi people saw me the same way America sees you.
You occupy our streets and live outside of normal American society. You isolate yourselves. You stand secluded from the rest of us so you can more easily see us as someone to shoot at. I know your mentality. I lived it.
Your toxic masculinity and inflamed bravado can be smelled from miles away. You love your gear. You love wearing your tactical vests because you think it’s cool.
You’re supposed to be our protectors, part of the community. You’re supposed to be walking the beat and interacting with families and small business owners. Instead you intimidate the people around you. The people of this country don’t trust you to do the right thing anymore. You’re dogs with the taste of blood.
It’s impolite to stare. But when it comes to severely injured soldiers, maybe we don’t look enough; or maybe we’d rather not see wounded veterans at all.
That’s the message you get from photographer David Jay’s Unknown Soldier series. Jay spent three years taking portraits of veterans returning from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but before that — for nearly 20 years — he was a fashion photographer. His stylish, artful images appeared in magazines like Vogue and Cosmopolitan.
“The fashion stuff is beautiful and sexy — and completely untrue,” he says.
Truth became the focus of Jay’s work for the first time about 10 years ago, when he started The SCAR Project, a series of portraits of women, naked from the waist up, with mastectomy scars. Around the time he was taking those photos, he was also trying to comprehend the news coming from Iraq and Afghanistan.
“We hear about ‘this number of men were killed’ and 'this many were injured,’” Jay says, “and we think of them — maybe they got shot — or we don’t really picture what these injured men look like.”
Hello friends and followers. What you see here is a fundraiser for three of my dearest friends who have found themselves in a rough position. They are a queer married couple with an adopted child, and are going through a separation right now. They need money to help get themselves to a place where their living conditions are stable enough that they can put forth the effort needed to repair their relationships. Right now money is tight, living situations are tenuous, and there’s no energy left over to make things right.
Who are you helping?
A transwoman who is also a disabled veteran. This woman is incredible, a leader for her community, an authour, a powerful activist for LGBT and disability issues, and a student. She’s beautiful and powerful inside and out. She needs financial liberty from this situation so she can focus on her health, pay for her medications, and maintain a safe place to live for herself, her service dog, and her cats.
A queer man, the husband of the woman mentioned above for 20 years. He’s an incredible chef, also a local community leader and activist, and the absolute best friend anybody could hope for. He is currently living with their adopted son, his dog, and several cats in a trailer. The money raised will be used to provide for himself as well as their son, so that he can move the trailer into a real living space [it’s currently stuck in a friend’s driveway] and maintain the transportation needed to hold down his job.
A trans boy, the adopted son of this couple. He’s recovering from an eating disorder in addition to several mental health issues. The money raised from this fundraiser will help provide for his living space, the health of his pets, the care he needs for his illnesses, and the stability for him to be happy and healthy. There is a real chance that he may need to transfer back into an inpatient facility very soon, so this money issue is becoming a very real emergency.
Local friends and family have managed to get these wonderful people almost halfway to their goal. It would mean the world to me and to them if we could help get them the rest of the way there.
If you can’t donate, please consider giving this a signal boost so it can find people who can.
My Life Driving Uber as an Iraq War Veteran with PTSD
Stuck on my dashboard where everyone can see is my Combat Infantry Badge. It’s a medal given to soldiers “who personally fought in active ground combat… engaged in active ground combat, to close with and destroy the enemy with direct fires.” It’s supposed to be a conversation starter, a way to bridge the gap between the passengers who are constantly coming in and going out of my car.
Almost no one notices it, or they notice it and just don’t care.
I’ve picked up countless fares and only two have asked me what it was. When I told them it was an award I earned in Iraq, one guy went on a monologue—to impress me, I guess—about a distant relative of his who was in the Special Forces. The other said nothing beyond, “Oh.”
Far more people ask me why I have a plain black-and-white Uber decal on my windshield and not one of those “cool” glow-in-the-dark ones instead. Others ask why I don’t also have a pink mustache. But mostly my passengers spend the ride staring down at their phones, treating me like a machine while my thoughts drift, inevitably, to the voiceovers from Taxi Driver that have been rattling around in my head for months.
Listen, you fuckers, you screwheads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit. Here is a man who stood up.
Except I’m not standing up. I’m sitting down, watching the city fly past my windshield.
Hey guys, I never ever post, and hardly ever repost these because I don’t want to bombard people with posts they’ve already seen or what not. I know times are hard for everyone right now, but I have a great friend with two lovely children that are having difficulty even eating right now.
He’s a veteran, and VA has been screwing him over with benefits, and debt companies are garnishing his wife’s pay, illegally. It was hard enough for them to find a place to live recently, but they really need help and it would mean a lot to me if you guys could pass around his gofundme, or even donate. I know I don’t have a lot of followers, but I want to help him in some way.
Please if you can reblog this for me it would mean a lot. His gofundme is here.