A Railfan's Story

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AIRLINE:

I have been following this thread on the RAILROAD
list, which I am a member of, and thought that it
might have some relevance to us here, as we are more
or less, in the same business.

Mike Burris
Cambridge, Mass
------------------------------------------------------
In ObservationCar@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, "Steve Barry"
<steveb@xxxx>

wrote:

This was sent to me, and the sender has given me
permission to use the story in the next issue of R&R.
Here's a sneak peek at something that is really
alarming.

August 23, 2005


My biggest fear, in recounting what happened to me
August19, 2005 in New Orleans, is that people will
have a very difficult time believing me.   I am sure
some folks will be sure I am embellishing the facts,
exaggerating, or outright lying.  None of this is the
case.  Everything I state here happened as I say it.


I am a 60-year-old, recently retired pharmaceutical
rep, with three grown sons.  I have a particular
fondness for trains, and riding on Amtrak.  Friday
morning, August 19, I departed Houston on the Sunset
Limited, bound for Pensacola, Florida for a short
vacation.  The train had a layover of several hours in
New Orleans, so I thought I would kill some time
taking photographs of the terminal and Amtrak
facilities.  I had taken a lot of photographs along
the way, and I
have started a photographic album intended to document
the Sunset Limited all the way across Louisiana. 
There is no way to know how much longer Amtrak will
run this train.



It is important to know that there are no signs on the
platform forbidding passengers from walking down the
platform into the area beyond where the lead engine
would be, and no signs that prohibit passengers from
taking photographs.  There are "No Trespassing"
signs on the gate to the Amtrak maintenance facility,
on Earhart, but they are not visible on the platform. 
Two female Amtrak employees drove by and asked me what
I was doing.  I said I was taking photographs, and
that rail photography was a hobby of mine. They
admonished me to "watch out for the Amtrak police."  I
did not
take that warning seriously, because I was not doing
anything wrong.  I joked that maybe "they would beat
me up, so I could file a multi-million dollar
lawsuit."  That, being an idea so ridiculous, anyone
would know it was meant in a humorous vein.  I walked
a little further down where I encountered a young guy,
who was also an Amtrak employee.  He inquired as to
why I was photographing the switcher, and I explained
to him that I was just a railfan, and I wanted photos
of the Amtrak equipment.  I asked if I could walk
further down the platform to take a couple more
photographs.  He
said he preferred I wait until he could get someone to
accompany me down there.   I said "fine", and I
waited.  By then the two female employees had returned
and we were all standing around talking and waiting
for whoever was supposed to come to see about my
request.
After a while an Amtrak policeman arrived.  I figured
he would say I could, go I could not go further down
the platform.  When he got out of his car, I could see
he was already in a highly excited and agitated state.
 He was not in the mood to dialogue.  He explained I
was trespassing on private property (remember, no
signs), and was not supposed to be taking photos.  I
was not about to argue with him, or be the least bit
confrontational, knowing the reputation of
New Orleans police, but this was an AMTRAK policeman,
and I was an AMTRAK passenger.  I merely inquired if
this was not public property, since Amtrak is a
publicly supported entity.  At that he told me to turn
around, and he handcuffed me.



I naturally protested that I had done nothing wrong. 
But he was determined to handle things the way he had,
I believe, decided to handle them before he ever
showed up.  He took me up to his office, and contacted
someone, who I assume was his superior.  He gave the
person an embellished, and almost completely false
account of what happened.  For instance, he stated I
had said, "This is public property, and I can be here
if I want to be."  I begged the policeman not to take
me off the train, but he continued to repeat that I
was "going to jail."  I really got upset at this point
and
insisted he let me talk to someone in the Amtrak
office.  After asking him over and over to let me
speak with someone, he finally put an agent on the
phone.  I told agent at the terminal I had done
nothing wrong, and to please come get me out of this
mess.  The
agent said he could not override the policeman, and
generally conveyed the attitude that he did not give a
damn what my predicament was.  The policeman ran my
ID, and, of course, it came back that I had never been
arrested, and that I had no criminal record.  He was
unfazed by that information, and instructed the
agent to remove my bag from the sleeper room I had
occupied.  In the stress of the moment I forgot about
my large hanging bag that was in the lower level rack.
 It made it to Orlando, and I will get it back
this week.



As we were driving out of the terminal area, on the
way to the Orleans Parish Prison, he pointed out the
"No Trespassing" sign on the chain link gate, which is
not visible to any passenger on the platform of the
terminal.  Upon arrival at the jail, I was processed
in, and at that point the Amtrak officer committed a
gross violation of procedure, by keeping my wallet,
camera, and a pocket knife that the jailer had taken
out of my pocket.  This was to have major
ramifications, later, when I finally had the
opportunity to bail myself out of the facility.  He
had also erased certain photographs in my digital
camera, while up in his office, a violation of my
civil liberties.  While waiting for him to show up I
had
photographed two A-10's that were flying over.  He
wanted to know why I had photographed the A-10's.  I
responded, "Because I'm a pilot."  I do hold a private
pilot's license, but my response seemed
to stun him slightly, and he moved on.



The Orleans Parish Prison is one of the worst jails in
the country. The jailers there treat all inmates with
contempt, disdain, and do everything they can to make
you feel there is no light at the end of tunnel.  My
charge, incidentally, was criminal trespass.  You
cannot bond out until you are "processed."  For hours
I watched other inmates come and go, while my name was
never called.  Earlier, in an odd difference in
procedure, the watch captain said, "O.K. Bourgeois, go
to that window."  I thought I had it made, but when I
got there, the first thing they wanted was a photo
I.D.  Too bad, it was in my bag at the Amtrak police
office.  So, I had to be put through a nationwide
fingerprint search, which added more time to my stay. 
I went in the jail at 6:30 p.m. on Friday, slept (what
little I could) on the concrete jail floor, instead of
the viewliner bed I had on the Sunset Limited, and at
four o'clock Saturday afternoon I was still in jail. 
I could have been out at 11 a.m. of the same day, but
with no money, or debit card (remember, they were
taken from me) I could not bond out.  So, along with
about 60 other inmates, I was put in the orange suit
and moved to the big prison, with the big cell block,
just like you see in the movies.



By the grace of God I had done one thing right.  I had
managed to get a phone book and write down the number
of my cousin, who lives in New Orleans.  All phone
calls out had to be collect, and you had to have the
number.  I can remember exactly two phone numbers in
my
head, one being my brother who lives in Lake Charles. 
 I was finally able to get in touch with my
sister-in-law, and she made numerous phone calls for
me; most importantly to my friends in Pensacola, who
by now, were frantic. Not to mention my youngest son,
who lives here in Houston, who was sent into a
tailspin.  My cousin, who had been gone when I first
called, was home now, and around 6 p.m., she came down
and paid my bond.  In the manner of doing things
at the Orleans Parish Prison, I walked out of the jail
at 12:30 a.m. Sunday morning.  I recovered my
belongings the next day at the terminal.



My vacation I had looked forward to was destroyed.  My
friends and family had been traumatized, as only you
can be when you cannot account for the whereabouts of
someone.  The lasting psychological effect of this is
hard to predict.  I have been quite depressed since I
came home.  The over whelming fact is, I COMITTED NO
CRIME. You cannot arrest someone for trespassing, when
there is not even a sign saying "no trespassing," and
you cannot arrest someone for taking photographs.  The
entire amount of time that the officer spent with me
on the platform could not have been over one minute.
What motivated him to arrest me, when he could have
easily said, "You cannot be here-go back to the
train," I cannot say.  What really bothers me is he
obviously felt he could get away with this gross
example of false arrest, and deprivation of civil
liberties. That points to something rotten in the
system, itself.  Combine that with the total disregard
of my welfare by the Amtrak agent, and there is ample
room for an investigation, and action to be taken. The
officer should be terminated, for sure, and following
him out
the door should be the agent.  The officer's superior
who allowed him to perpetrate this outrage, should
also have to answer.



There is no stone I will leave unturned to get justice
for this.  As I sat in jail my most consistent
thought, after "I have to get out of here," was "I
have to make this count for something."  This should
never happen to anyone, again.



James Craig Bourgeois



Back to me (SB):



I'm not sure what to say. I plan to follow up with
Amtrak on this one, as we need to make sure someone is
accountable for what's going on.



Steve Barry
Managing Editor
Railfan & Railroad Magazine
973/383-3355

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