For those of you tuning in for the first time, this is part two of a true multi-chapter series that will hopefully continue periodically depending on demand. You can find the link to part one above and if you like what you see, you can expect to continue reading future chapters right here on the Gateway Pundit. So, below is the next installment of the series, which I hope you find interesting. If you like what you see and want to see more, feel free to follow along as well as visit
defendzach.com for more information.
Now, I’m going to dive right in where we left off following my arrest. It all happened so quick, but while I was going through booking, people kept talking to me like I was going to be there a while, it was really odd. Officers though, were quick to fingerprint me, document my appearance, and, since I expressed I wanted a lawyer the moment I got there, they wasted no time trying to interview me. So at this point, I still don’t know my charges, although I was just taken over to the BOP after everything over at the FBI next door was completed. The moment I get there, they start giving a medical screening and of course a “covid” test, along with various questions about my medical history, to which I get told, a medical doctor will follow up with me in a couple weeks. A couple weeks? What? This is what I’m thinking.
If this seems confusing, its meant to be, that is exactly how I felt. I was getting shuffled all over really fast, meeting different officers and personnel and not getting told squat. Finally, out of confusion and frustration, I snap and ask someone, “What the hell am I even charged with? When will I see a judge?” One of them says, “conspiracy” and “not till Friday.” I said, “Conspiracy of what?” He just shrugs and says, “I dunno, conspiracy.” Great, thanks I guess. So I ask this guy about a phone call since he is at least talking to me, and he helps me dial my wife’s number and tells me to be quick. At this point, I’m realizing something strange is going on, so I’m bugging out and my anxiety is starting to go through the roof. As my wife picks up, by the sound of her voice, it sounds like she is having the same experience. She proceeds to give me a rundown of the raid, where the FBI searched vents, boxes, drawers, literally anything they could get their hands on and took a tee shirt, a jacket, some sneakers, some Proud Boy coins and a PB hat, which all seemed so odd. Then she quickly filled me in on the lawyer situation and I asked her when she secures the lawyer to have him contact me ASAP. I told her that I would call her again as soon as I was able to. But what I was about to walk into next would rock my world and shatter any respect I had for how the justice system worked in this country and start to open my eyes to some of the most serious, unchecked misconduct in the criminal justice system, things that would outrage any constitutional-loving American to their core.
So after they were done booking and such, I was given some lunch and taken to the “covid” block. The first thing to pop in my head was, this is absurd and way over the top. Half of the block block was covered under some sort of bubble, or tent with hazard signs and warnings all over and it reminded me of a video game like Resident Evil or something. As you could imagine, this is where they put sick inmates – not inmates dying of some flesh eating disease or anything, but inmates that caught “covid.” Everyone else went to the other regular half with regular cells, which wasn’t under the hazard tents, but it was essentially the same thing as far as what the living conditions were. These living conditions were draconian and something I would have expected out of Soviet Russia. They included a 14 day lockdown (although mine lasted 20 days despite no positive “covid” test.) This meant no recreation time, which normally lasted from 6 am to 9:30pm, except for one hour every two to three days. That one hour was your time to shower, make any phone calls and get anything else of importance you need done, if you even could. I also had to discover all this on the fly, because some guards (known as COs) weren’t very nice and would ignore you if you tried asking questions while locked in your cell. This was also frustrating because you wouldn’t see someone at times for hours, and when you did see someone, they just ignored you. Imagine trying to figure out when you could call your loved ones again or get let out of this cell, and no one will even stop at your cell long enough to tell you what is going on. If you are going to strip people of all their rights and treat them like a caged animal over a sickness that the person didn’t even have, at least have some decency to tell them what your current rules are so people don’t go crazy. Which people did go crazy, you heard people screaming and banging on doors all day and night, but no one would answer them. They could have been dying of heart attacks or something, and I’ll bet at times people did, but no one would come to see.
My main concern was trying to call my wife so I could see what my lawyer situation was. After being in the cell for at least 24 hours, I finally found out that I wouldn’t be let out of my cell until Friday morning and when I was, I had to fill out a form and get my phone numbers put on some approved list by the ‘block manager’ so I suppose they could monitor my calls. Frustrated, as I have no other choice but to wait until Friday morning, I try to aimlessly kill time any way I can, which is hard because I’m locked in this tiny cell under these conditions. To paint a picture of what those conditions were, I’ll start off by pointing out there is no TV, no cable like all the movies say there is. You are given a small one inch foam pad to lay on a steel bedframe, which is also a bunk bed. In this 8×12 foot area is a steel desk that is attached to the wall, a sink, the toilet and the beds, and if you are lucky, a tiny 3-inch wide window that was usually covered by a metal grate that made it hard to see. Other times there was no window, like my cell in later months, as it would be completely covered.
Meanwhile, the doctors stopped by to tell me that none of my medications are carried by the jail. None of them. I’m not going to go deep into my medical background, but there were three main things the VA prescribed me medication for, otherwise my anxiety would go through the roof, I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and I would feel constant pain. So, I was just told the medications I was prescribed the past 8 years by another government agency, the VA, would not be prescribed to me at all. Frustrated even further because I obviously didn’t sleep my first night, but now I know I wouldn’t be sleeping my second night either. Whatever, I think to myself, I’m going home tomorrow anyway, so I don’t push the issue. Not that it would have mattered anyway, because these Docs had no cares in the world, I mean, they were government employees after all, and we all know how they can be sometimes.
Fast forward to midday Thursday, and I’m starting to get antsy. I haven’t been visited by any lawyer yet, so at this point I’m starting to panic a little bit too. I haven’t been able to smoke a cig, so nicotine withdrawals are creeping up on me, and the lack of my medications are starting to cause my psyche to deteriorate a little bit. Since I’m also locked in this cell by myself, I have no other choice but to sit and think about the worst case scenarios that could be playing out. I was terrified at the thought of having a public defender because I always heard stories about corruption at the local level in Philly, and expected it to be no different at the federal level, especially with a political case like this one.
I was also, due to the same reasoning, worried about getting stuck with a lawyer who leaned left, as was the case with most people in the city of Philadelphia in general, and getting my bail screwed with as a result. I eventually thought of the idea of trying to ask for a phone call with the idea of obtaining my lawyer’s number so I could call him myself, but I was ignored at every turn. The most irritating thing these COs would do, they would open this little trap door to give you your food, and while you are trying to ask them a question, they would slam the trap door in your face and walk away, not to be seen again for hours. After hours of thinking of all of this and having no idea what is going on, I’m now in full panic mode. I didn’t trust the government with how they have handled things up to this point and now I’m starting to think my wife wasn’t able to secure this lawyer, or worse, had accepted a public defender that tricked her into accepting their services and is secretly working against my best interests. The list goes on, being locked in a cell with nothing to do but look at the walls can make you think of a lot of things. Throw a little anxiety into the mix and a terrifying situation with extraordinarily unjust circumstances, and its no wonder I heard people screaming all hours of the day. In less than 72 hours, I was able to observe a jail where they were depriving people of medications and quite literally driving healthy people crazy by locking them up for really long periods of time for no reason other than taking an “overarching precaution”, completely ignoring all of their rights, not only as Americans but as humans in general.
As the court hearing ticked closer and closer, I just paced around my cell and stared out my little window to kill time. I obviously couldn’t sleep due to the stress and lack of my meds that help. So I was pretty exhausted when 10am rolled around Friday morning. The CO unlocks my door for the first time since I was brought there at around 5-6pm Wednesday, almost 72 hours later. I utilized this time to meet with this manager guy, who set my phone up so I can call my wife. Finally, I could call her and she tells me she just met with the lawyer and gave me his number. It felt like a boulder had just rolled off of my back and for the moment, I start to feel much better. With my lawyer’s number in hand, I could now request a “legal call” from this manager, at least that’s what he told me at the time. As I went back to his office, I tell him I’m trying to call my lawyer before my 12pm hearing for bail. He says, “no problem, follow me,” and he walked me over to a table with an old red telephone on it, the kind with a handheld receiver that you pick up off of a little box with a key pad on it. There is a sign on the red phone that says, “legal phone.”
As I go to put my hand on the phone to pick it up, the CO says “now hold on, you can make your legal call, but due to ‘covid,’ I have to stay in the room, but don’t worry though, I’m here all day, I hear tons of people talk about their cases, so it goes in one ear and out the other.” Now I’m sitting there thinking, as President of the Philadelphia Proud Boys and remembering how they ransacked my house like I was Pablo Escobar, this is already sort of a high profile situation, at least locally, so this guy is obviously full of shit. But as I am desperate for my legal call, I waive it off as no big deal, I think to myself, I’ll just be careful what I say. So when we proceed again, as I go to grab the phone once more, he stops me again, saying “no, no, I dial the number over here.” What he was referring to was his black employee desk phone. You may recall, I worked for the federal government as military personnel. When I was on the stand, I jokingly said I was a “pencil pusher,” so that meant I worked in an office setting often. This made me familiar with the rules and regulations in the federal government and how they operated. One thing I always remembered about the black phones in all of the federal government was that they were all always recorded. They did this to ensure people were not using them for nefarious reasons and to settle disputes that happened on these phones. People always got in trouble doing stupid things on these government recorded phones, so it was a vivid memory of mine with regards to these phones.
So when he told me he had to dial my lawyer’s number on this phone first, my heart went up in my throat and my stomach started to feel uneasy. I remember thinking, this can’t be real, no way he is about to do what I think he is about to do. I let the whole thing play out anyway, staying completely attentive though, but also thinking I will just catch up with my lawyer after I get bail if what happens happens. I need to make tis call to at least confirm that he is actually representing me. So I give the guy the number, and I watch him as he dials the lawyer’s number. He then switches lines to patch the call on the red phone, followed by merging the two lines. He then tells me to pick the red receiver up. I vividly remember what happened next, as I watched him press what I believe was the hold button and then he hung up his receiver. I remember this because I watched his receiver hang up and my lawyer say hello after. I then watched as the red light on his phone (where my line was currently at) continued to blink red during my entire call. This meant the CO never hung up the call and with my current knowledge of government phones was also (illegally) recording everything that was being said.
This was probably the most intense call I have ever had. I’m witnessing an absolute nightmare as my government is holding me in custody for crimes I did not even know of yet and my government is recording my phone call with my lawyer hours before my bail hearing. Meanwhile I’m face to face with a corrections officer/manager of some sort and he’s listening to everything I said. “In one ear and out the other” was all I could think of. Yeah, because you don’t need to remember, you’re recording it all. Anyway, my lawyer makes mention of a photo that was circulating online, but I’m shaking and currently having a panic attack, so I don’t even know how to speak at this point. I just can’t believe what I’m going through at the moment, so I utter out, “OK”, and I repeat OK at everything he says, not wanting to admit or acknowledge anything he is saying while I’m watching my phone line be recorded. Again, its been less than 72 hours and I have already witnessed more violations to my rights than I could have ever imagined.
We are supposed to be in the USA, we have a Constitution, how is any of this happening? I couldn’t believe it, I still don’t believe it, but as you know, and as I will get into soon, my bail was subsequently granted, then revoked.
From this point on, every single “legal call” I ever witnessed was conducted in this fashion, and it is done the exact same way for every inmate I have seen make these calls to their lawyers. I can’t say for sure that every manager or counselor knew what they were doing, but I can say for sure that the government was recording these calls when calls were done in this manner. So as you can now come to understand in my entire time incarcerated, almost three years now, I never once had a true legal call between just my lawyer and myself for the reason stated above. So, if you aren’t starting to question how corrupt the justice system is and how bad we have had it, just wait, because I am only getting started.
Please share this far and wide and hopefully with your help, we can continue spreading the word and raising awareness to these atrocities. This way real change can happen and things like this can never happen again. So, thank you again for your continued support and I hope you continue following along so we can continue releasing new chapters. Don’t forget to follow along on
www.defendzach.com
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Thank you and God Bless.
Zach Rehl
