a0 OPINION Page 4 a0 Wednesday, September 16, 1981 The Michigan Doily The Michia.n.D.il r °. A Bawling behind bars in Baltimore .At 9 a.m. Friday, as ordered by the note left by the police, I called Sgt. Buford Viars. (You remember from yesterday's episode that Sgt. Viars and several of his cronies from the Baltimore city police department had searched my house after a neighbor noticed some peculiar flora growing on our back fire escape. Howard Witt k the process of their search of my room, they found an itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny gob of 2%- Year-old hashish I had forgotten about). > "Just come on down to the station some time "this morning," Sgt. Viars said very.paternally. : We'll process your arrest and you'll be let out n an hour; it's no big deal. In three weeks You'll have a trial and the judge'll probably rgive you a year of unsupervised probation. They then expunge your arrest record. Hap- ,pens all the time." HE ADDED that I had nothing to worry about. . --Whew! So maybe this whole thing wouldn't be so bad after all. Going to Jail Pointer #6: Never believe the police. I picked out my best tan suit-surely that would show the police I was no criminal-and headed out the door, looking forward to the rest ;a of the day. My parents were flying in from Chicago-at 4:30 p.m. to visit me for the weekend, and I couldn't wait to see them. (If this were a movie, you would now hear an ominous "Danh Danh Daaaaam!" in the soun- dtrack.) At 10 a.m., I got to the police station and was cordially but firmly escorted to a basement of- fice filled with men in blue. "Hey, Witt, we gonna read about this arrest in the papers tomorrow?" the men in blue chor- tled. OH GOD. Two days earlier, I had written a story for the Baltimore newspaper where I worked about some police in a nearby city who were staging a work slowdown. And I thought only my mother read bylines. "No slowdown here, buddy," one of them laughed. "We're haulin' in those criminals left and right." Pointer #7: Never write a story about cops two days before you are going to be arrested. After taking down all the pertinent infor- mation, Sgt:Viars led me to the holding cells. "You'll only be here two hours or so, while we check for any prior arrests," Sgt. Viars assured me. "But you said on the phone. . ." He was walking away. "Take off your necktie, belt, and shoelaces and empty your pockets," a new officer was ordering. THEN IT WAS time to get fingerprinted. They use thick printer's ink-very black and very permanent-and give you one small paper towel to wipe your hands with. Wondering how I would clean my other nine fingers, I glanced into a few cells to see how the other felons had done it. They had simply wiped their hands on their jeans or t-shirts. Pointer #8: Never wear a tan suit to jail. Quicker than you can say "Smile!" I was in# front of a huge canera, with my name and very own arrest number hanging around my neck on a little board. I was going to ask if I could look in a mirror first, but decided against it. Better I should ap- pear tousled and ruffian in the post offices of America. I USED MY one phone call to tell the secretary in the newsroom that I would be in a little later that day. I didn't exactly want to ex- plain the situation over the phone to my editor: "Oh, hi there, Mr. Keller. I'm in jail, but Adon't worry, it's only for possession of drugs." Pointer #9: Never use your one phone call to tell a secretary you'll be in a little late. Then it was rumble, slam, and I was locked in my cell. A mere three yards square, it con- tained a crusty toilet (no seat), a crusty sink (no hot water), and a crusty bench (lots of splinters).. No toilet paper-you had to yell "Turnkey" (that's what they call the officer in charge of the jail) if you needed any, and if the turnkey was feeling particularly generous, he might amble over and give you a few sheets. THE STEEL WALLS, where the paint was not rusting away, were that sick shade of men- tal-hospital green. No sophisticated Graduate Library-style graffiti here-just, a desperate "God Help Me" scratched into the ceiling. On the whole, the place kind of reminded me of Markley. Across from me, Ilearned as the day wore on, was a man accused of stabbing his wife. Down a few cells was a pimp. Next door, a man who borrowed a television set from Sears. Maybe it was more like South Quad. Tick. Tick. Tick. In jail, time stretches to in- finity. 11 o'clock. 12 o'clock. 1. 2. 3. You occupy your time by counting the bolts in your cell. The hairs on your arm. The hairs on your other arm. IT WAS GETTING late, and I was getting nervous. Mommy and Daddy (you. regress, quickly in jail) would be expecting me at the airport. I had to call and let someone know where I was. Surely, when I explained my dilemma, the police would let me make just one more call. Pointer #10: No they won't. "Turnkey! Turnkey!" I called out. No an- swer: "Hey, Turnkey! Some toilet paper over here!" Nice try, but no good. 4:15 p.m. The plane was getting clearance to land. I started pleading, begging. 4:25. The wheels were touching down. I was reasoning, explaining, crying. 4:30. They were entering the terminal. I tried a threat. "Hey, Turnkey! Do you know who I am? Do you? I'm Howard Witt. Yeah, that's right. The Howard Witt. I'd sure hate to have to plaster your name all over the front page of tomorrow's paper." ONE POLICEMAN on the entire force who doesn't read bylines, and this has to be him. I was frantic. No one in the world knew where I was. My parents would be worried sick. What if they had a heart attack? What if they jumped in a rent-a-car and crashed going 100 mph? What if ... ? I decided that I had only one avenue open to me. I had to get out of my cell and get to a phone, and the only way to do it would be to in- jure myself, so they would have to take me to a hospital. Looking about my cell, I spied my wat- ch-the one personal item they had let me keep. It had a metal band. Let's see ... I could twist if off and... and.. . and slice open my arm with the jagged edge! No, not a great idea-that band cost me $40. I THOUGHT some more. What about my pants? I could take them off, tie them around my neck, and hang myself from the bars. No-it was a new suit, and I'd never get the wrinkles out. Well, I could grab hold of the bars and smash my head against them. Yes, that was it!-I'd just grab right on and powwiee! Theyd have to take me to the hospital. But that sure might hurt a lot. Then, just when I was about to (ugh!) drown myself in the crusty toilet, my cell door rum- bled open. It was 6 p.m. They were letting me'0 out. And did I find my parents? Were they upset? Did I have to pay $300 for a lawyer? Did I get off with probation? To make a long story short, yes, yes, yes, yes. And the moral of this whole sordid story? My final pointer? Pointer #11: Don't go to Baltimore. Witt's column normally appears every Tuesday. Edited and managed by students at The University of Michigan Vol. XCII, No. 6: 420 Maynard St. Ann Arbor, MI 48109 Weasel WI-AT, APE' ADWNTFAM NI 5 4:i ST C. R LDK -9 -b CA~r 4d AA of th tion anno ,no longer L 'pass" or ,making t zhas ignor sumers- designedt When a c~hase a c, imyriad o .tning that 4-elative s mined by Under the sumer wi data, wh compare safety of t Certain Editorials represent a majority0 opinion of the Daily's Editorial Board By Robert Lence t No, No! Not L Kr-- TffAV Ycx) RAVC Ta PUr T46 Woop I N 6ccTWFz-N n4F. 13L.OGKS. im, k AND L-ooK Kt+ R5' #io .. THE $! 6 U .' PTh616 I6fME/ '(OJ IAYETb ApTUST. I FP4es4MAN., actrF - r F-W UtMP-- {4F Auto test change fails WTOMOBILE safety branch with the tests. Some cars arguably Le Department of Transporta- have been undeserving of their unced Monday that it would designation-either good or bad. But r report whether new cars for the most part, these designations r"fail" annual crash tests. In have served as a good general guide he decision, the department for consumers in purchasing theirw red the best interests of con- automobiles. whom the safety branch is Unfortunately most major auto to protect..companies will most likely laud this a consumer decidestopur- decision- if the problems of a car are fnumeor sheandfactsdconcer- not so obvious to the consumer, more umbde r.nde fa cthe car's cars can be sold. And, of course, it is model. In the past, tunlikely the Reagan administration; safety cold be easily deter- will do much to go against the interests the pass or fail designation. of big business. e new plan, however, the con- ill be faced with figures and Hopefully, most consumers will take ich must be calculated and the time to examine the facts and d to get a general idea of the figures to provide themselves with the the automobile. protection the government now refuses Lly, some problems do exist to offer. ,. ,} ,,,. ,l c7 M cN