and Government Infiltration, Spying, and Control of Black Community Grassroots Groups and Struggle - COINTELPRO-style

 Way-laid at Wayside: Beware of the Agents in Our Midst  

by Kwasi Seitu

      Periocally over thOn June 2nd, a COINTELPRO plot was sprung on me, when I was to drugged at the Wayside Center in Faber, Virginia, then transported 30-miles north to Charlottesville, where I transferred from a car to a police car, then taken to the regional jail there. It is more than interesting that this event occurred at that time, when two of ITJ's "Skanks on the Bench" prosecution cases were scheduled for hearings that coming week in D.C. "Superior" court, with the source for the drug used on me, as well as the bus and drivers being provided by the MPD, with my being held long enough not to be able to participate in those proceedings.

      The Set Up - Not long after I had made a previous presentation at Wayside, I was asked by Kenisha Saubry, who was part of the group of young teachers who I had made a presentation, to make one to her students. Loving young people as I do, I agreed, without any further inquiry except as to date. All that I knew about Kenisha was that she was in the group of young teachers before whom I made my presentation, so assumed that the retreat would be attended as the others had with an appropriate number of adults from her job and the Wayside Center. However, I what I found was entirely different and strange, for upon my arrival at the center in the wee-hours of the morning, I found a dozen very young children ripping and running around throughout the house totally unsupervised.  When I asked the children where were the adults, they pointed only to Kenisha, who they said had been asleep for hours, with children noisely swirling around her. I was driven down by Kenisha's co-worker, a "Dr. Hall," who was flamingly gay and had little to say to me once he realized that I wasn't even bi-curious, but did help put the children to bed. These were not the late teen to young adult audience I as thinking of, these were a dozen 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. 

     I had just simply opened the door and walked in, the children had never met me before, but assumed that I was "Mr. Kwasi," which I could have easily assumed if I were not, then walked out with whatever child I chose. This truly bothered me and next morning I talked with Kenisha about, however, was quickly drawn of that topic when I found that her plan was to feed the children pork bacon, pork sausages, cheese-eggs, corn flakes, and a fruit salad. The kitchen was already a train wreck, there was no way that Kenisha could prepare all the meals, clean the kitchen, and sufficiently monitor the children by herself. Even if Dr. Hall had come without me, the children would have still been in trouble, for he proved to be of little help. Under the guise of freeing Kenisha up to deal with her students, I told her that I would take over preparing the meals and cleaning the kitchen, especially since I know how to run a kitchen and prepare food for groups of people. 

      I was shocked to learn that a dozen children were simply placed in the custody of this very troubled young woman, whose own five-year old was the least behaved and most troublesome of the entire group. I spoke with her and Dr. Hall about there tendency to holler at the children and accuse them of being liars, all of which created a little resentment from both of them towards me. I took the children on a nature walk, which was cut short after barely a mile by Kenisha and Dr. Hall, complaining that we had gone far enough, a view not shared by the children. I then suggested that she and Dr. Hall take the children to the watering hole to swim, I would fix their lunch. Kenisha had planned to serve the children hamburgers and pork hot-dogs, a piece of cooked down broccoli, potato salad, and Kraft Mac & Cheese. Kenisha had been given money and allowed to determine the menu all by herself, which seemed like a child's revenge dream-menu, consisting of some of the most unhealthiest things on the planet. There were boxes of refined sugary snacks placed throughout the house, she bought one gallon of drinking water, but four cases of Capri Sun, boxes of "Angry Birds" candy, and other junk. 

    Luckily there were some vegetables left over from a prior visit, along with other food stuffs so that I could include healthier alternatives in the menu, which I explained to the children and they appreciated. They gobbled down my tofu and raw salad, enjoyed the oatmeal and fruit salad I insisted they eat. I built a campfire for the children, talked with them under the stars, let them run around in the dark catching light-bugs, and then sat up with them watching movies until nearly all of them were sleep or going to sleep. Kenisha and Dr. Hall had once again simply abandoned the children. I arose at 6 a.m. the following morning with the intent of beating Kenisha into the kitchen and preparing the children's meal, she planned to feed them cheap pork hot-dogs. I prepared oatmeal that I had found and a fruit salad, Kenisha eventually came on with the pork bacon and sausages, cheese eggs, and Capri Sun. By which time I was already in the clean up mode of the kitchen and dinning hall. I collected and put out the trash, had the children to clean up the rest of the house and stage their things on a side porch. 

     Dr. Hall had decided that he needed to leave by 9:30 that morning for some unexplained flaming reason, taking Kenisha's car and I was told by her, with her bratty son. I did not check beyond Kenisha's word because I was busy cleaning up and shutting down, I had not even taken he time to sit down and eat, I was nibbling of a small plate I had prepared for myself, and sipping out of a glass of juice. Some of the children would come down to the kitchen and sit at the island just to ralk with me while I worked, but I noticed that Kenisha would come down and send them upstairs on some mission, while at the same time always winding up in a position closest to my food and drink. When I finished cleaning up and securing the downstairs doors, I went to take a shower since all of the children were now out of the house. I got as far as starting to remove my watch, that was the last thing I remembered before waking up in the Albermarle Regional County Jail in Charlottesville, some eight hours later and miles away from Faber. 

     Suspicions Rising - I found it strange and discomforting that not only had a dozen little black and brown children been placed in the absolute care and custody of a young troubled woman, but had been driven to a fairly remote and isolated location where the phone and internet were off, and there was no transportation. Kenisha had gotten the bus from the Metropolitan Police Boys and Girls Club, the drivers of which were off-duty police officers, who drove them down and then left them, leaving the bus, for which Kenisha did not have the keys. Dr. Hall had her car to bring me down, so if one of the children became ill or was seriously injured, there was no way to either get them to emergency medical treatment, or have it come to them. By Saturday afternoon I began to wonder why no staff from Wayside had appeared, this was highly unusual based on my few experiences there, for there had always been a number of staff available on my previous visits. And then there was the fact that neither Virginia Leavell, John Tuscu, or anyone else from Wayside that had been normally present to supervise some activities were present. 

      At the time I had not given a lot of thought to the fact that the bus had been provided by the D.C. police, which meant that the drivers more than likely were off-duty policeman. From what I have been able to ascertain, there were two of them, one to drive the car and the other to drive the bus. They then provided the manpower needed to remove my unconscious body from the house to the car, and from that car to the police car. I was never on the bus, not only did my being unconscious maje that impractical, but the bus is under an insurance policy that prohibits any unauthorized riders. The children were not in my charge, I was not one of their chaperones, so why would I have been on the bus instead of the private car that followed it?   I awoke in the Albermarle Regional County Jail, some eight-hours after I started to take a shower in Faber, and I could not recall how. I immediately looked at my wrists for signs of being cuffed and there was none, so I knew that I had been carried, confirming in my mind that I had been drugged and carried. I then was given the phone by a jailer and talked with Virginia and John. They had called and I tried to tell them what I knew, but was getting a different reception from them, one that was uncertain and questionable. Also, when I awoke I noticed severe pain in my right hand, which was already swelling and within a day looked like a succulent lobster claw.

     The "States" Case - According to the version of events as related by "G.C. Riley" of the Albermarle County Police Department,  the dispatcher received a call about "a man on a bus full of children who had become intoxicated and belligerent in the presence of the children," and was given a specific address to report to, keeping in mind that the drivers were supposedly unfamiliar with the area, yet supposedly gave the dispatcher an exact address in the middle of nowhere. The location an isolated stretch of road approximately 12-miles north of Charlottesville, where there is no posted address, not even a shoulder for cars to pull off on, there is nothing there but a stand of trees, open fields, and a turn-around point, it would then appear that this was a pre-designated and agreed to location,

     The "G.C. Riley" reported that upon his arrival he spoke with "one of the adults on the bus," indicating that there was more than one. The Riley then states in his report that he was directed to the car behind the bus, which was accompanying the bus back to D.C., to which I had supposedly been "removed," where Riley reported that he found me sitting in the passenger seat talking on a cell phone. Riley, assuming he followed "standard operating procedures," pulled up behind the car, which was behind the bus. Somehow, he walked past the car without talking to Kenisha, or without her saying a word to him. Even though Riley said that he observed me on a cell phone and "later," spoke with me, he did not report detecting slurred speech. Then it appears that Riley waited around until "later" I got out of the car of my own free will, so how long was Riley standing around there? Officer Riley then reported that he then twice "offered" me "assistance," with what or for what is never made clear, but I supposedly refused both offers. Riley then stated in his report that he considered my refusal of his assistance as being "uncooperative," then declared that I "became more belligerent" with him, even though we never had any prior conversation and exchanged only a few words in his offer and my refusal.  arresting me for "public drunk."  Riley stated in his report that due to my refusal of his assistance, which he considered "belligerent," he arrested me for "public drunk."

     Public drunk is not a criminal offense, but rather a "probable cause" for the police to seize and hold a person for no more than twelve-hours until they sober up, which would not serve the purpose of the plot to have me held long-term, at a week. According to Riley I apparently did not protest or attempt to resist him seizing me, until 12-miles later as we entered into Charlottesville, where I suddenly became this ranting and spitting madman. Riley claimed that I commanded him to "stop," which he did, at which point I supposedly began cursing and threatening him, told him that "I am a Black Panther bitch," then began spitting everywhere in the back seat. Riley reported that I then began directing spit at him, which hit him on the neck and arm, he said that I also spat on his onboard computer and the windshield. For this, I was charged with felony assault on a police officer. Riley claimed in his report that when other officers arrived at his request to place me in a transport van, I refused to walk, so had to be carried to the van and into the jail once it arrived there.

    Things Fall Apart - When I awoke in the jail I noticed that my right hand was severely paining me, was red and had begun to swell, I did not understand why since it was fine before I was knocked out. The next morning when they took me for a video appearance, I had to sign some papers, when I picked up the pen with my left hand, someone blurted out in surprise "he's left-handed," they were all staring in shock. By now my right-hand has swollen so much that it looked like a well done lobster claw, needing only some butter and lemon juice. The magistrate on the screen did not bother to introduce himself, nor the Barney Fife looking states attorney that stuck his head into the camera, who was reading information provided to him by D.C., that attempted to make me look like Al Capone or Osama bin Laden. I was not given any opportunity to speak or question, before the magistrate ordered that I be held without bond and that the next appearance would not be until June 20th. This is when it became evident that the source of the plot was in D.C., with me knowing where the various pieces of misinformation had to come from, I could determine that both the U.S. Attorney and judges in D.C. "Superior" court were involved. Interestingly, when they realized that I could trace the misinformation back to particular sources, they stopped using it. 

     The entire time I was held in the jail, I was not taken beyond the booking area, was not allowed to have any contact with other prisoners. I was kept in a small, 4' x 7' concrete  and glass cell, in which the lights never went off, with overhead cameras recording my every move. On the fourth day they realized that I had not eaten since being there, they assumed that I was on a hunger-strike, when in fact I simply did not want to eat the crap they served as "food." They then threatened to place me in a strip-cell and force feed me, so I began to accept the trays eating only what vegetable or fruit may have been on it. For the first three days they would not allow me to call anyone accept the Public Defenders office, from which an attorney named Lacey Parker was supposedly assigned to my case. It was not until the fourth day that the tramp showed up, with an attitude, because I left a message with her and her boss that I had a problem with their failure to appear. Lacey was a skinny,pale, drawn-up fairly young woman, and it was plain to see that she could not represent me. My first inquiry to her was to see the police report, she produced a copy, but when I claimed it as my copy, she claimed that I could not have it because she did not have another. However, when I pointed to a copy machine over against the wall, she suddenly remembered that she had another "copy" back in her office. Lacey told me that she knew Riley well, and told me that he was a she, knowing that I would not know since I was unconscious the entire time. At that point I really did not need her anymore except to get me before a judge, four days later I was actually taken to court, but again appeared before the same magistrate and states attorney.  

     Agents Exposed - A few hours after I awoke in the jail, a jailer brought me the phone and Virginia Leavall was on the line, I tried to tell her what I was able to ascertain, which was that I had been drugged and kidnapped. I learned later that for four days neither she or John Tuscu had informed anyone as to my whereabouts, even though they had attended a public event where many of my colleagues, who they knew were looking for me, were in attendance. After the fourth day, Leavell sent out an email in which she stated that I had "a break with reality" and had "endangered" children, which was couched in a presentation of knowing me personally and being concerned. This email presented as fact the events stated in the police report, a standard COINTELPRO tactic to discredit.

      Leavall incorrectly stated in the email that I had been a member of the Black Panther Party, clearly indicating that she was either the source for the misinformation, or was privy to it prior to the event, Riley reported that I told him I was "a Black Panther," I was never a member of the Black Panthers and never told anyone that I was. Evidently the sheriff was also misinformed that I was right-handed, which resulted in someone attempting to break that hand while I was unconscious. Leavall appeared at the court hearing, along with about eight others on my behalf, and spoke to the judge supposedly on my behalf, and after much talk about not allowing me to leave the state, putting a monitor on my leg, or placing some form of a chain on me, the magistrate placed a $10,000 bond on me, $1,000 cash. I later learned that Leavall had no intention of putting up the $1,000 cash, even though she had it. If not for the input of some of my comrades insisting that the purpose of coming down was to get me out, Leavall's plan was to leave me in jail while she planned to hold some "fundraising parties." Leavall was compelled to post the money, which she only did upon my comrades promising to giver her $700 back. I was told that she angrily then left back for D.C., not being concerned about how I would get back once released. Again, some of my comrades made sure that I safely got out of Charlottesville and back to D.C. 

    Dissecting the State Lies - As I pointed out earlier, Officer Riley's report made no sense, up until I got the copy of the report from Lacey, I had no idea as to what the story was, I only knew the charges. From reading the report I could put together exactly what happened based on the failures of Riley, such as his failure to make any effort to determine what it was I supposedly became "intoxicated" on, nor any attempt to locate a container in which it would have been in. It also made no sense for me to have been on the bus with the children, with its limited seating and I was not their chaperone, I was supposed to have been in the car. The bus belongs to the Metropolitan Police Boys and Girls Club, which I am sure has a policy against strangers or unauthorized persons riding on the bus, especially when children are on board. However, it is not necessary to do much detective work in order to undo the case, Riley does it himself when he stated that he charged me with "public drunk," after he seized me for refusing his assistance, which he considered "belligerent." Thus, I could not then be charged with assaulting a police officer since Riley admittedly did not have lawful right to seize me, nor move me against my will. 

     Riley would then have to explain how he concluded I was drunk when he made no mention of observing drunken behavior, then did not conduct a sobriety test, which he would have to record. Evidently, he did not observe any drunken behavior, nor could he conduct a sobriety test, because I was unconscious. Even after I was in the jail there was no effort made to establish that I was intoxicated because I was unconscious. Even though Riley never recorded any of his actions, he knew that the officers upon their arrival to transfer me to the van, would arrive with their onboard cameras on and then there were the cameras in the jail, thus he had to explain why I was being carried from one place to another. Riley claimed that I was refusing to walk, which would not have resulted in me being carried, but more than likely would have resulted in me being assaulted and dragged. Riley would also have to explain why I was never cuffed. At the same time, the State Attorney would have to explain on what basis he decided to prosecute the matter, and the magistrate would have to explain where he found probable cause when he ordered me held without bail. 

     A week after my release I got a call from Leavall and Tuscu wanting to meet for lunch, where they attempted to get me to accept the story laid out by Riley as true, with Leavall insisting that accept it at the risk of loosing their "friendship." Of course, the lunch was cut short under he circumstances, with it being irrefutably evident that indeed these people were not to be trusted. I walked away from them without a word, then Leavall began contacting other people in hopes of keeping tabs on me, never calling me, she nor Tuscu. About two-weeks after that Tuscu called a common acquaintance and asked that person to meet with him at a coffee shop, where he gave him a letter to give me. In that letter, Leavall and Tuscu continued on with the charade of claiming to be "dear friends" of mine, but that unless I accepted the story, they could no longer be my "friends" and could not give me any "more support" (as if they ever had). They uninvited to their wedding, which they had strangely asked me to officiate, which I believed had been become evidently out the window as far as I was concerned.  At that point there was no reason to conclude, as others had done much earlier, that John Tuscu was an agent. It now became very apparent and irrefutable to me that  

    Things Fall Apart - When I returned to Charlottesville for the purported "preliminary hearing, " they were apparently expecting or hoping that I would not appear, so when I walked through the door I saw jaws dropping and eyes widening. I was accompanied by two white friends, a woman and man dressed in a black business attire, they did not know who these people were and it also rattled them. All of a sudden everything was halted as the magistrate called a recess and the State Attorney took off out a side door, while Lacey Parker tried to pretend for some time that she did not see me. Finally, the magistrate returned and immediately had my case called, at which point Lacey informed him that I had fired her and would be representing myself, I grinned at him. Now, they had to deal with me. They put Riley on the stand, at which point it was clear that he was not a woman as Lacey had said, and he stupidly repeated his report without any attempt to embellish it to fill in its many missing parts. It was then to be my turn to question Riley, but the magistrate stopped the proceeding claiming that because Riley testified that the assault occurred in the city, that the assault charge should be tried in city court.

      City courts are not criminal courts, they are municipal courts that can only prosecute violations of city ordinances, not misdemeanors or felonies. When I questioned the magistrate as to how that made sense, and the fact that they knew from the report where the alleged assault had occurred, he had no real answer and simply wanted to stop the proceeding. Apparently his plan was to try confusing things and dragging them out to vex me by making me waste time and resources coming back and forth. He set a date of August 13th for my return, but for what was not clear since he was claiming his court could not try the charge, public drunk was not a charge and the marijuana possession charge was hinged to the assault case. Then last week I received a call from the bondsman, telling me that the magist-rate had issued a warrant for my arrest, claiming that I had failed to appear for a "show cause" hearing. Even the bondsman knew this to be strange, there had been no haring scheduled and it was not clear in which court the matter was at that point. Felonies are tried in the Circuit Courts, but that court had issued no order to appear, still the idea was for me to come down and turn myself in at the jail in order to clear things up.    

     My Course of Action - Of course I have no intention of turning myself in, nor to continue playing along, I was the victim of an ongoing criminal conspiracy that began with my being drugged and kidnapped. And it plainly appears that Riley, his boss, the State Attorney, and the magistrate knowingly furthered the kidnapping with a false arrest, illegal detention, malicious prosecution, and the obstruction of process. I informed the chief judge of the district court, under whom the magistrate sits, of the matter. I also contacted the Virginia State police and when they failed to call back, I filed a complaint with the Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice, however, I need to get movement prior to August 13th, when I am supposed to return. If I return, I will be illegally seized and jailed again, which will then be used as a basis for holding me without process based on the bogus warrant, there will be no proceeding, again I will not see a judge.

     In the meantime Virginia Leavall and John Tuscu have exposed themselves, and Wayside, as nothing more than a police front for infiltrating and spying on activist within the black community. I got waylaid at Wayside, but now they all have the problem of having struck Tar Baby, and now they are stuck. Stay away from Wayside and its agents, Leavall is the privileged descendant of former slave holders, the source of her wealth, which she pretends to seperate herself from, but nothing could be further from the truth.