This letter was started 10 days after Don’s arrest. The account of happenings begin after the last phone conversation they had.>

HELLO, TENDER OF THE HOME FIRE,

Its Friday morning: I finally got my store. So now I have pencil and paper, envelopes and stamps. Writing by hand is so slow (and there's no spell checker). It has been one week since I got out of deprivation. Its pretty bleak here too though. So let me start with where I left off.

Tom Hoidal didn't get back to me on Monday so I called him Tuesday morning 9am. Secretary said that he was busy and she would have him call me as soon as he was free. By noon I called him again. I wanted to go over to the Co-op and pick up my Membership Card and talk to the Manager about the computer job. I said I would be out during lunch for about 1 1/2 hours then I would be back to wait for the call some more. Hoidal was with a client. Then Lucy called , she had just gotten out of her meeting and was going to have lunch at the Co-op with some friends. I said that I would join them, (at 11:30 I had had a large bowl of bean soup so as to make sure I was well fed if I was to turn myself in that afternoon as Tom Hoidal had said on Monday).

So I was arrested by the FBI storm troopers at the Co-op parking lot. Assisted by the Tempe Police. The FBI was rude and verbally abusive, The Tempe Police were kind, respectful, intelligent, courteous, efficient - the finest officers I've seen (I dare say they could be good Icelandic police). The one that talked with me was born in Australia and had lived in many places in Europe.

There is a small brown and red Finch outside my barred window right now. He is sitting on the razor wire eating little seeds from the top of a weed. He has yellow eyes.

Back to the story. They decided to send me to Scottsdale because that’s where the warrant was. The Scottsdale police couldn't find the address. It took them over an hour to arrive. Thus my conversation with the Tempe police. We only talked of living conditions in Iceland and some of the places the officer had lived.

Off to Scottsdale and a holding cell. Small with 2 bunks, pads and thread-bare blankets, toilet/sink combo. I had nothing but shirt, pants, underwear, socks and shoes. Nothing to do but wait. I had not been allowed a phone call, read my rights, or even formally arrested at that point. When the storm troopers ruffed me, they asked "Do you know what this is about?" I answered "I think so". That was all that was said about it at the time. The FBI were in plain clothes and never said who they were. The Tempe officer was the one to identify them.

After an hour and a half or so, a policeman came to the cell. He introduced himself as Lt. LePon. I recognized his name from the legal papers we received in the extradition package. He asked if I wanted to tell him my side of the story. I said "I'd like to call my lawyer". He said "If you want to talk to him, you don't want to talk to me". I said "well, what do you want to know? As far as I can see all of my cards are on the table". He shrugged his shoulders and left.

A while later they brought me down the hall to a judge. Now, I was read my rights (though I don't remember him saying I was under arrest). This was the bail hearing. LePon spoke first - said a lot of effort had gone into the case and he wanted bail set at $80,000. Then the judge asked if I had anything to say. I told him the whole immediate history of my attempts to surrender. His response was, "I only have your word for that. Bail is $80,000." My response should have been - that he only had my word for anything that I could have said - so why ask me to speak at all?

For better or worse, I didn't think of it at the time, so I remained silent. But what could be more important and likely to change the bail assignment than what I had just told him? All easily verifiable by phone (the next morning) or from Hoidal right then.

Back to the cell. Now there is someone in the bottom bunk, John Pugh from Prescott. A Sergeant said we would get phone calls in a few minutes. An hour or so later they brought us microwaved TV dinners. I got corn and green beans, and apples (stewed)/ traded the meatloaf for more green beans. The usual routine.

John was the average jail kind of guy.- Not really living anywhere, working off and on, and stopped for a routine traffic violation. He had a suspended license and a warrant for not finishing his community service from his last go around. Nice enough guy. We never did get our phone calls even though the guy in the next cell was yelling about it quite a bit.

About 10 or 11am they moved us to Madison Street in Phoenix. John said he was glad to get out of that Scottsdale holding cell. I warned him that we had just left the Hilton and were going to a hole. When we got there he said I was sure right. Into a cell made to hold 15 there are more than 70. No pads or blankets, just concrete and steel. One big plus - No Smoking. So the only smoke I have to breath is from the tobacco that some of them had smuggled in their butts (and matches and striker - for papers they just used their legal papers).

New technology - a finger print touch sensitive computer. Just touch the special screen sections and the computer records the prints and displays them on the monitor. No ink to wash up. Unfortunately they also take a very complete, very messy set the old fashion way too. But I think soon they will stop doing that. Unless they have realized that a small van across the street from the police station equipped with an electro-magnetic pulse generator could wipe all of their files clean (even just driving by). Who knows how much (or how little) they are aware of yet. But it was nice to see that clean techno- application put to good use - even if it is duplicating a paper system for now.

Every few hours we were herded to a smaller cell while the empty one was swept out and mopped. Around 4:30 PM they called me out and said the press wanted to talk with me. I wanted to, though I didn't feel in the mood to. They gave me a release form to sign. I signed immediately but then hesitated and decided before I gave it back, I should read it. It said I should absolutely talk to my attorney

>To be continued.... That was the end of the first six pages. The end of the last complete page at the time. These were taken by Lucy to her fax machine to be faxed to Connie Jean. Unfortunately the text was written in dull #2 pencil and was not faxable. The entire text was transcribed by Lucy and e-mailed to Connie Jean as was the remainder as soon as it was possible.

START P 7: -- first. So I asked the guard if I could call him. Surprisingly, they said yes. I called. The secretary was glad to hear from me. She had been told that if I called to find out where I was. I told her, then I said I was going to talk to the press. She told me I should not. I insisted. She BEGGED me not to saying the attorney would be back in 20 minutes and would either explain why or give permission. I asked the guards if that was O.K. They said yes. (They lied) That was to be my last chance to talk with the press. There were no other phone calls allowed. I was in that hole for another 20 hours. Some time during that 20 hours(near the beginning) they took the photo you saw.

All these estimates of time are just that. There are no clocks in this environment (then or now). The meals here, of which I had four, were meat and cheese on white bread sandwiches, an orange or grapefruit, a sugar drink (koolaid in a plastic jug) and some cinnamon crackers, that had an expiration date of Nov. 98, (or marshmallows, or fried flour tortilla pieces). I ate lots of grapefruit (most of the oranges were bad). I had a couple of bags of cinnamon crackers, they were OK. This is much better than the Nevada holding diet.

In the afternoon on Thursday I was called to be "dressed". The last of the clothes I had were added to the other property I was arrested with and I was allowed to shower (its not mandatory) and given a striped suit of PJs and pink shorts and orange shower shoes. Then off to another holding cell (50 in a cell for 9) for a couple of hours and then chained together in groups for the different jails. I got assigned to medium (previous prison time) at "Towers". Towers was the second stop after a 15 min drive in a cramped van on metal benches. We were unshackled and put in yet another holding cell for another hour or so then we got a bed pad, a towel (pink), a sheet, and a blanket, then went through the maze to where we were assigned. John Pugh went to a different unit, and I got directly into a cell. This was good because many are sleeping on bunks in the day room.

Cell mate, Jason Smith, is in his early twenties. His first words to me were "at least you aren't a Mexican". I've come to really like the guy though. On arrival I put in a medical request for my orthopedic shoes in my property, a request for some reading material, and a religious request for an LDS bible and LDS counseling, and for my garments. Then it was time for dinner.

Some good news there. The trays contained fresh spinach leaves and purple kale, also a chopped tomato and vinegar blend. I mixed these and it was a very tasty salad. Of course almost no one wanted their greens, I ate about 30 helpings of spinach and kale. Saved my grapefruit for later. Friday morning the breakfast tray contained almost nothing I could eat - giving my stuff away is always good for some goodwill in a new environment. More grapefruit. Occasionally an edible orange.

Today I went to see the Doctor. A standard practice for new arrivals, I found out, but since I was quick to put in a medical request, they charged me $3.00 for the visit. They said they would put in a request for a dairy-free diet, and send for my shoes.

There is a TV here but I don't watch it. The acoustics in this unit are so bad that the only way you can hear the TV is to press your ear against it. The guards make many announcements over the PA system here but you can't understand anything they say. When they tell everyone to do something they all shrug their shoulders. Then the guard shouts into the PA making it even less intelligible and starting everyone in the unit shouting. After that even if you could understand what they say, you can't hear it. Great communication system.

Friday afternoon Lucy came to see me and we caught up on what was happening. It was awfully good to see her. She put money ($100) on by books. Said she would notify Ortega. About 20 minutes after I got back from Lucy's 30 min visit, I was called for a legal visit. I told Hoidal my reasons for wanting to talk to the press and he agreed, and said he would also talk to Ortega. He said he would testify at any bond reduction hearing and he thought the chances were good (not of O.R. but a large reduction). He said once a P.D. was assigned he would help bring him up to speed.

At noon on Saturday, my vegetarian food started coming. I get peanut butter instead of lunch meat in the bag lunches. (They call them Ladmo Bags - even the guards do - I'm sure you remember their name sake from the "Wallace and Ladmo show". I don't know whether that show is still on the air - I never saw it when it was but I remember the name). For dinner, I now get some special concoction that they make with TVP for the vegetarians. For breakfast they still send eggs or waffles or pancakes so I trade things in the mornings. And they still send me the processed cheese single wrapped slices. Everyone gets them. Most throw them away. I can't give them away.

By Saturday had also trounced everyone in chess at least 5 straight . I got your letter at Saturday afternoon mail call. That evening I lost my first couple of games of chess. My mind seemed to be elsewhere. I haven't lost since.

Sunday I went to the church service. It was evangelist. "Everybody stand up - Put your hands in the air and shout Praise Jesus!" Not my kind of service. But I'll go again next week. They had a turn out of 70 or 80 so I'll see if I can find any other Mormons around here.

On Monday I was taken to a “Not guilty arraignment” It’s called that because you can't really say or do anything. A plea of "not Guilty" is automatically entered for you and your next court date is assigned. Everyone keeps asking why we have to be there for that. They wake you up at 3:30 am and tell you to be ready to go in 15 min. They take you to a holding cell and you wait for an hour or so. After you are good and sore from the concrete and steel waiting room, they chain you together in large groups and pack you very tightly into the transport van. When arriving at the county, it is in the holding cell for the several hour wait. So many people packed into these that on a 7 foot bench, hips will be wedged together and there will be at least two laying on the floor under the bench (maybe three) all floor space filled. Breakfast came during that time.

At my hearing they gave me the papers with my charges. It had AKA Douglas Hanes, I did get to say to the judge that I have never used that name and that there was a court order that it be removed from all records. She said she would make a note of it. During the 30 minutes or so we were in court, I managed to get a seat in a plastic, one-piece, lawn chair. The most comfortable moments since my arrest.

Back to the holding cell for more hours. Mid afternoon (after a ladmo lunch) we went back to the Towers.

Wednesday evening we put store orders in. I ordered my paper, stamps and envelopes and shampoo. I got one weeks worth of vitamin packets, They are .65 apiece, but should be a good addition to my sometimes meager diet. These stub pencils are hard to write with. Nothing else available. I can also get packages of peanuts for snacks (but I already get peanut butter for 2 meals a day) and I of course have grapefruits piling up no matter how fast I eat them I still have to throw some away. I got a deck of cards too, but its been 4 days and they remain unopened.

Thursday was when I reached my assigned public defender. Clifford Levenson. He sounded bored when I told him I was assigned to him and I said I wanted to get a bail reduction. He asked for the grounds and when I started the explanation and the word "Iceland" came up, he said "wait a minute, Iceland? Has this case received some media attention?". When I said yes, he said "I'll be by to see you this afternoon". I got my store that evening but Clifford didn't come by that day.

I tried calling Clifford on Friday but the phone wasn't working well enough to let me call out that day. Lucy came by for another visit that afternoon, by then I was on page 7 of this letter. When they said I had a visit, I thought it was Clifford. I took all the papers I had in case he needed anything. The letter to you was on the pad. I gave her the pages that were done. She said she would visit every week or so. She’s a true gem. About 30 minutes after I was called to another visit. I thought it might be Jim & Ruth because Lucy had said they might visit. But it was Clifford.

The reason that he hadn't come on Thursday was that he went to talk to Hoidal and got more info than he expected. He said that I was his first client ever with his own web site. He filed the motion for Bond Reduction before he came to see me since the prosecution has 10 days to respond and he said he had more than enough material to file. Hoidal had told him almost everything I had for him. So the clock is ticking for the bail reduction. He also said that from what it looks like right now, he thinks it should be dismissed. He is interested to see which way the DA will jump with it.

He said Hoidal thinks we are experts at handling the media and Cliff will leave that to us. "No comment" from him unless we instruct him differently and gives the usual warning about how slippery they are.

Saturday morning they brought 2 new guys in. Not unusual, traffic and in and our of this unit is steady. But this guy was rolled up 1 hour later because he was bailed out. A big break for me - he had a good sleeping pad, and no friends in here to give it to. I swapped it before he left. The one I had bruised me almost as much as sleeping on steel.

Later that day Jason Smith my cell mate was rolled up. We thought he had been bailed out since he had received a bail reduction from $40,000 to $2,400. He gave away what little he had and left with the congratulations that usually accompanies a release. When he was outside the sliding gate he found out he was merely being moved to Durango.

Since he was here on a domestic violence charge (they argued, that's all) and has a 2- yr-old daughter, I thought I should give him a few pointers on relationship. We talked for about 4 hours on Thursday night, At the end of the talk he said "Dude, this has been a really enlightening discussion". I hope it helped for the sake of their family. I gave him our email address and web-site but I doubt I'll ever see or hear from him again. He's not a computer kind of guy.

Sunday there was a fight during breakfast, Two really strong Mexican guys. There was blood all over the place. I didn't finish breakfast. We were locked down all morning, Church was canceled. But the lock down wasn't because of the fight. All units were effected. Some sort of security alert. We lost a good chess player in that fight. Now there is only one who can give me a good game.

New cell mate arrived last night, William Morgan. He's here because he is a known manufacturer of crystal meth. They found some glassware and they are trying to hang it on him. They may not get him this time, but he will do life if he doesn't give it up soon.

This afternoon I got a visit from Jim Knibbs. He said I could stay with them if I bail out. I forgot to get their phone # though. So, that brings us up to the present.

Some bad news. You remember the hustle we did to raise the money for the plane tickets? Well, in all of that, the tithing on my last check didn't get paid. It is 22,100KR. If I bail out soon and can't leave the county, I can probably get a job to pay it.

Connie - when I look back on Amsterdam - it wasn't the sex that was the best part. It was making you laugh. Breakfasts at the window facing the canal. Walking under the umbrella. Catching the tram. Talking in the E-cafe. Holding hands on the park bench. I miss you.

Love,
Don