PRETRIAL SERVICES — BAIL BONDSU.S. Congress and Attorney General’s pretrial service unleashed a monster. Under the pretext of providing Clevelanders with pretrial services — Richard milked bail bonds insurance like a cashcow.
Delivering justice amounted to having murders, robbers, kidnappers, rapist and impressionable and poor Black men agree to crime-on-credit bail bond contracts. Chief Judge Richard McMonagle — with the ODI backing — redirected pretrial services.
Communities’ safety, health and welfare wasn’t even an afterthought. In the bail bond big picture scheme of things, none of that crap mattered in Cleveland’s Cuyahoga County.
Money was the new pretrial service motive. Releasing criminals on — no money down — credit contracts were a means to a diabolical end. Criminals insured that judges, lawyers, and Wall Street backed bail bond insurance companies made and laundered criminals’ money.
An ink stink swept across the newspaper. After I put the daily newsprint down which captured the General’s speech, I sat back. Deep in thought, I began rocking backwards. I got my best thoughts swaying in my natural wood colored, thick ribbed spine, spider legged, arm rested chair. The bail bond business sold on the power of suggestion. That was an important power. It often help me when I had to hunt down bail jumper.
The chair I rested in made a squeaking sound each time the seat rocked. Rocking while seated calmed my jittery nerves.
Thinking about the camera lights in the General’s face made thoughts of my mother’s face flashed before me. As a child, I’d watch her relieve her nerviness. She’d cross her bruised legs at the ankle. With her legs resting upon her ankles, one leg layed over the other. Mommy swayed her feet back and forth — rapidly. She’d stop and start, repeatedly. When she finished, her stress had gone away. Usually, that therapy lasted a minute. Or until, my father entered the house fussing about something or another. It was Marybelle this or Marybelle that.
I sat at my office’s fart, flatten, smashed pillow seat. The legged wheel coasters hadn’t shift an inch. Each coaster ball, at the foot of the chair, rolled into a slightly sunken hole. By repeatedly rolling in the wheels alone the same path, time, and friction had scooped out a track of the wooden floor.
My mind again flashed toward my childhood. I thought about the sandwiches I ate. I switched between eating thick, brown, alaga syrup or greasy, white, salad dressing or gummy, peanut butter. On lucky days, it came with a piece of bread.
After surviving from the 50s until 2016, I pulled through and became a new millennium bail bondsman. In my office, my left hand clutched onto the chair’s armrest. My trigger finger on the other hand moved robotically. It swiped across the cell phone keys. With one finger, I scrolled through brief list of phone text messages. My wrist, on the same hand, rested upon the traditional 60s thick wood top desk.
The dusty brown wooden box had three wooden file drawers, left and right of my legs. A piece of laminated wood attached to the desk’s right side panel had begun to peel off slightly. Because it was on the underside of the desk, my left pant knee would occasionally snag against the detaching piece of wood. Over my lap and waistline was a center draw. The flat stretched out sliding box contained keys, post-it-pads, pens and other miscellaneous articles.
Overhead was the air-circulating ceiling fan. When bail bond business was slow, I counted the blade rotating overhead. On Wednesday’s, bail bond business was slow as molasses. The fan motor triggered a squeaky sound each time the blade rotated.
At high speeds, dust flew off the off each blade, bounced off my head, and rolled off each shoulder. After sneezing and blurting out hachoo, my body and head jerked. That caused my chair to rock some more.
My bail bond day at the office was routine pretty much. I filed court cases, took and made phone calls, and counseled habitual the dregs of society.
Con artists’ plotted deals of lifetime; murders had zodiac killing on their minds; robbers saw value in other people stuff, rapist had obscene thoughts of sex, kidnappers planned for their victim’s next ride. The other run-of-the-mill crooks had taken a wrong fork in the road.
Hell… since I lived in the city, any one of the judges’ Courtroom defendants could’ve been my next-door neighbor. Maybe that’s why I saw a human being.
Google search each personality traits.
For every one client that left my office, two entered. Every crook had a story. I had my secret as well. Beyond the sagging pant, hoody, and vulgar tattoo, a piece of me lived in each villain’s story.
Judge Richard McMonagle, put a well-thought-out bail bond plan into action. In 1974, U.S. Congress made pretrial services the law of the land. Pretrial service authority came from the Attorney General’s Office. According to the Attorney General Office, U.S. Congress and the law — the Chief Judge oversaw all pretrial services.
As Chief Judge in Cleveland’s Cuyahoga County — Richard ruled matters of law and pretrial services. The U.S. Congress and Attorney General’s Office identified the bail bond business as one aspect of pretrial service.
With the law on his side, Richard determined the domino effect pretrial services had Cleveland’s poor Black region of Cuyahoga County. The law authorized Richard’s rule over bail bond business because it was a pretrial service, as well.
Richard shifted the Attorney Generals’ parole and pretrial services emphasis. Instead of securing communities safety, bail bond business specifically endangered poor Black communities. With crime-on-credit, Richard intentionally focused on Cleveland inner city.
Richard paid special attention to controlling the bail bond business. Crime-on-credit gave judges, lawyers and bail bond insurance companies special roles in the Richard’s business. Judges, lawyers, bail bond insurance companies worked as a syndicate.
Crime-on-credit was a central aspect of the syndicate’s business. The ODI was the watchdog of the business. Contract killings all but arbitrarily occurred in Cleveland’s poor black communities. As Chief Judge in Cleveland’s Cuyahoga County, Richard placed new emphasis on Congress’ original meaning of pretrial services.
Through pretrial services, The U.S. Congress foresaw a reduction in criminals’ behavior, while awaiting Courthouse trial. Courthouse administrators would verify criminals’ background to make communities safer, while criminal awaited Courthouse trails. Pretrial services eliminated wasteful Courthouse detention for judges Courthouse defendants, while criminal awaited Courthouse trails. Pretrial services guided criminals to community services, which increased Courtroom criminal appearances during repeated Court trials.
Chief Judge Richard McMonagle, with ODI’s backing, redirected pretrial services. Bail bonds insurance, as a pretrial service, became the syndicate’s cashcow. Community welfare was a nonissue. Money was the new motive. Releasing criminals on credit contracts, which were no money down bail bond contracts, were a means to advance Richard’s money motivated syndicate profits.
Murders, robbers, kidnappers, rapist and impressionable and poor Black men secured the syndicates bail bond profits. They acted under the guidance of Richard. Under Cleveland’s pretrial services, Wall Street benefited from Richard’s cashcow, the ODI’s licensed and regulated Cuyahoga County bail bond business.