Perhaps as a way of getting around a judge’s order meant to curtail Drew Peterson’s interviews with the press, he has sent a letter describing his arrest and experiences since then to gossip columnist Michael Sneed. The second installment was published today. Joel Brodsky has confirmed to Justice Café that Peterson is the author of the letter.
I talk to my kids a couple of time a week and the hardest part about being in here is missing their events, birthdays and just watching them grow.
My little girl, now 5, ask me where I’m at and when are you coming home. It breaks my heart that I don’t have the answer for her. I don’t let my children visit me here. This is just a childhood memory I don’t want them to have.
My other visits are few. I do get a lot of letters from new friends all sending encouraging words of love, friendship and hope. One lady wrote me a letter calling me her hero due to the fact I saved her from an abusive home as a police officer several years ago. …
I get contact visits from my lawyers to prepare my case for trial. My legs are shackled to the floor and I sit on a small round stainless steel stool.
Going to court
The process of going to court can be hellish. I’m removed from my cell and pod, walked to a holding area then shackled. Placed into a transport vehicle alone. Then to the courthouse.
The vehicle is normally parked next to the courthouse jail door to avoid the press getting pictures. I remember the first time. As the vehicle went down the ramp to the courthouse door, it was parked away from the door: I was paraded in front of what looked like over 100 news cameras on the walls looking down at me. I guess they needed a “perp walk” to satisfy the press’s need to further exploit me.
I was going to comment about the size of the two officers who escorted me into the courthouse. “I was going to go on a diet but I can just hang with these guys and look thin.”
They were nice guys so I just said, “Three squares a day and these spiffy clothes and check out this bling.” I heard those comments went national. It’s not easy being a national pastime.
Once I’m in the courthouse I’m handcuffed, searched, and placed into a small 7×9 room awaiting court with nothing to do. After being called for court I’m re-shackled and taken to the courtroom via a small elevator. I’m kept shackled in court and not allowed to talk to or signal anyone in the room except for my lawyers.
I really feel bad for the female inmates in court. They aren’t allowed any makeup and all look very stressed out.
This is the only place I have interacted with the other inmates. I normally get them laughing. I ask them how they think I would look in cornrows.
My time in court is normally short and I’m taken back to the small room where I wait for sometimes as long a five hours, to be taken back to my cell. I get a sack lunch with a bologna or peanut butter sandwich.
As I’m moved about the courthouse it drives the officers nuts when the other inmate call out my name or ask for autographs. I just laugh. When I’m taken back to the jail I’m shackled up again and isolated in a transport vehicle.
One time I was transported back with about five female inmates on the opposite side of the vehicle partition. We were all joking back and forth.
One young girl was complaining that her parents weren’t coming up with her bond money. So I asked her to marry me. She said yes. I then told her to call her parents and tell them she got engaged to DREW PETERSON in the county jail. I said her parents would have her bond money that night. Big laugh.
At the jail I’m strip searched again. I laugh every time I’m told to squat and cough while naked. I’m then walked back to my pod and turned over to officers there. I normally greet my captors with “HONEY I’M HOME” and then directed to my cell.
It’s a funny phenomenon. The days in here drag but the time flies.
Ready for trial
I have always been a busy man working as many as six jobs. I sometimes earned as much as $100 per hour. Now I’m begging for the staff here to allow me to work as a pod worker, for long hours to earn $7.50 a week worth of Moon Pies and or stamps just for something to do.
From time to time they place me on suicide watch but the only time I think about suicide is when they ask me if I’m thinking about suicide.
As far as my case goes, my lawyers are ready for trial. I heard that Will County State’s Attorney James Glasgow had a tantrum about the judge’s ruling in my case so the state is appealing to a higher court. The law says I was supposed to be freed. But like most of my other constitutional rights this too has been violated.
I can’t believe I spent 32 years defending the United States Constitution with my life which now doesn’t seem to apply to me.
And hey Jim, didn’t you take and oath of office to defend the Constitution, not to change it. Too much power, too much ego.
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