Beneath the Spin * Eric L. Wattree
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In an incident in Portland, Oregon, "a Portland police officer noticed a 12-year-old boy holding a sign that read 'Free Hugs' during a Ferguson demonstration. The officer started talking to the boy about the demonstration, school, and life. When they were done talking, the officer asked if he was going to get a hug.
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"The boy teared up — and obliged."
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Chances are, that one encounter will color that young boy's attitude toward the police for the rest of his life. And I'm sure that if that officer is ever in an encounter with a young Black man, he'll think about that young kid before he pulls the trigger. So what we're talking about here is not one side against the other, but EVERYBODY dealing with our fellow human beings with a sense of humanity.
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But currently, the domestic enemy of the United States is appealing to America's emotions in order to circumvent our common sense. They're purposely instigating hatred, frustration, and division in order to promote their own single-minded agenda of power and greed. That agenda is destroying America, so if we intend to maintain the kind of life we've become accustomed to, we've got to appeal to America's emotions as well, but with knowledge, wisdom, and a sense of humanity. We can never out-scream fanatics, so we've got to out-think them, by reminding Americans of what we profess to believe in.
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One of my first memories in life was of the police coming to my house in the middle of the night, shooting my dog. and dragging my father off to the pen. When I was 19 years old I was busted at 3 a.m. in the morning with a briefcase full of drugs (and I mean HARD drugs) - and that was after a prolific juvenile career of going in and out of institutions from the time I was 12 years old (I was a precocious child). Now they finally had me as an adult, so there was absolutely no doubt in my mine that nothing was gonna beat me to the joint but the headlights on the bus.
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Then at my sentencing hearing, up pops this cop, Sgt. Foster, who wasn't even involved in the case - it wasn't even in his jurisdiction - but he was the first cop who arrested me when I was 12, and he harassed me throughout my juvenile career. Me and Foster had some kind of relationship. I saw him as the quintessential racist. He looked like he stepped right off a movie lot - a big, cigar chompin’ brute who used to always try to embarrass in front of the fellas. If I was suspected of something, he wouldn’t even bother to come looking for me. He’d just go up on the block and tell the fellas, "You tell Eric I want him in my office at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning - and tell ‘em if I have to burn up one drop of gas looking for him, I gonna stick my foot in his ass."
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The fellas just loved that. "Man, Foster just came by here lookin’ for you, and he said you better arrest yourself and report to jail by 8 o’clock in the morning or he’s gonna kick your natural ass." Then everybody would fall out laughing and making jokes at my expense. When I was 16 he caught me high on drugs and embarrassed and manhandled me so bad that I got in a tussle with and reached for his gun - I would have been dead if that would have happened today. But he just busted me in the head with his club and subdued me. But instead of taking me to jail, he took me home and told my mother and stepfather what took place - "You better take him and have that head looked after" (I had to get several stitches in my head; I still feel the wound every time I comb my hair). But he was right back on my ass the next day: "Hey, E. You better get outta here. Here comes Foster to get him some mo ass. Ha, ha, ha!"
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So when I saw Foster in court, I assumed that he came to gloat, because he had warned me at 16 that if I didn't change my ways that I was gonna end up in San Quentin, or dead. So again, I assumed he'd made that special trip across town to wave bye bye.
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But when they called my case up, and I stood up to see how many years I was gonna get, the judge put the court in recess and they took me back to his chambers, and in walks Foster. He told the judge that I wasn't really a criminal, I was just stupid. I didn't like the idea of being called stupid, and protested, but Foster told me to shut up.
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He then went on to convince the judge to give me an option f going into the military, and if I came out with an honorable discharge, the adult charges would be dropped against me and my juvenile record would be expunged, which the judge did.
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But they changed my life. If it hadn't been for that one act, I wouldn't be capable of writing this, and neither my daughter nor son - or any of my grandchildren would be here - because I would have been in prison during the time they conceived. I often wonder what my life would have been like then. I shudder to even think about it.
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But Foster did twist the knife a little bit. I thought they were talking about the Army, but they made SPECIAL ARRANGEMENTS with the Marine Corps to accept me - in spite of the fact that I was a high school dropout with an extensive juvenile record - to this day I don't know how they did that. But before the bus stopped rolling at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot, the biggest, ugliest DI they had was jumped on the bus screaming my name, and within two days, I was fantasizing about how nice it would have been to be quietly relaxing in prison.
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FROM: 92 SFS/SFO
2 E. ARNOLD STREET
FAIRCHILD AFB, WA 99011
SUBJECT: Recommendation for Staff Sergeant Eric L. Wattree
1. I wholeheartedly concur with Staff Sergeant Wattree’s request to attend Officer Training School. He represents the enlisted ranks with the highest standard and will bring that dedication and professionalism to the officer corps.
2. Eric continues to lead a stellar military career; his enlisted performance reports speak for themselves. His leadership and experience, especially in contingency environments, remains a vital asset to our unit and wing. As one of my primary Phoenix Raven team leaders, he’s propelled to the forefront of all major deployments throughout the world. He’s repeatedly secured aircraft and crews, supporting a wide variety of missions, in the most austere and terrorist-ridden environments where security is severely inadequate. The diversity of these missions never limited SSgt Wattree’s capacity to adapt to each situation. For this reason, Eric was selected as our 2000 Outstanding Phoenix Raven Member of the Year and the 2001 Air Force Reserve Component Airman of the Year for the 92d Security Forces Squadron.
3. Whether operating under peacetime or contingency operations, Eric easily assumes control and tackles every situation with meticulous tenacity, a quality highly desired in our Air Force officers. Requested BY NAME, Sergeant Wattree, provided security for presidential Banner missions throughout Greece, Peru and Viet Nam. While deployed to Afghanistan, he flew numerous combat missions in our nation’s pursuit to eradicate terrorism through Operation ENDURING FREEDOM. Additionally, he provided round-the-clock force protection for aircraft in other high-threat environments including Uzbekistan, Pakistan and Oman.
4. Sergeant Wattree motivated his personnel during the worst conditions and raised the level of esprit de corps to integrate personnel from other Air Force specialties into a cohesive team. His leadership, integrity and devotion to our Air Force play an integral part in our future leadership. Eric has what it takes to become a commissioned officer and earns my full support to attend Officer Training School.
FRANK HELLSTERN, JR., Captain, USAF
Operations Officer
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Today Eric is a Special Agent for the U.S. Department of Justice. I only wish Sgt. Foster (later, Capt. Foster) was still around to see it, because when I finished college he tried to recruit me into the LAPD - "You’re just the kind of person we need." I was seriously considering it, but my wife wasn’t having it at the time, but look what she ended up with for a son - Buck Rogers. There’s much irony in life.
Eric L. Wattree, Jr. |
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I'd seen such winds before, but never like this - my old foe was pulling up trees by the roots,
but I watched alone.
It fought valiantly against the angry gale, as though hanging tough Just to witness the changing of the guard,
but I stood alone.
and now they’ve returned, this mighty foe,
poised to seize the hopes and dreams of my only son,
but I cringed alone.
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