A
Ablang
http://squeedlyspooch.com/blog/archives/000072.html
January 15, 2004
The whole surreal story
So at 6:30am on January 14th, I woke up to the doorbell buzzing. Not a
short lived buzz. Someone had their thumb pressing the button and holding
it there. "****ing drunkard" I thought, and rolled over, intent on ignoring
it. It then started a rythmic *buzz* *buzz* *buzz* *buzz*, over and over
again. After about 5 minutes battling to get back to sleep, I gave up and
got up. Put my pants on, grabbed my sweatshirt, and stumbled off toward the
door.
As I walked down the steps I heard them talking to the nextdoor neighbor,
asking him where the landlord lived. I reach the door just as the
neighbor's door closes. I compose myself to deal with whatever is behind
the door, and open it.
Immediately there's a flashlight in my eyes. "Are you Chris Toshok?" "Uh,
yes" "Mr. Toshok, we're with the FBI. We have a warrant to search the
premises." I looked down out of the glare of the flashlight and saw the FBI
badge of the long haired blonde woman standing in front of me. I also saw
two people behind her, bodies turned sideways so as to present less of a
target. Guns drawn? It was too hard to tell really with the glare of the
flashlight, but I'm assuming yes.
I mumbled something about turning on the light so I could see the warrant
(pages 1 2 3 4 5)they'd thrust into my hands and turned and groped on the
wall for the switch. They all tensed. The light came on, and I looked over
the warrant for a second.
"Please come out here Mr. Toshok," and a hand on my arm pulling me onto the
porch. Once I was out on the porch several agents started up the stairs. I
said that my roommate was still asleep in bed. They asked his name, I said
"Peter". They continued up the steps, yelling his name. "Peter, this is the
FBI." "PETER" "PETER, are you awake? this is the FBI"
I didn't watch it happen but apparently Peter awoke, naked, to a doorway
full of FBI agents with guns out, yelling at him to get up. He asked if he
could get some clothes on. They said yes. He asked if they could turn on
the light so he could see. So Peter got to get dressed under the watchful
gaze of government employees. Must have been fun.
They took Peter to the back of the house, and took me back upstairs to the
front of the house, and proceeded to start going through everything in my
room and the office.
I was questioned by the FBI agent in charge and a Secret Service agent at
length about the Hungry Programmers, people I used to live with, whether
particular people had the capacity/knowledge to do what they were
investigating, etc. During the questioning she says "Now we're going to
take all your computers." She sees the look on my face and says "Yeah, this
is going to be hard for you." I said "uh, when will I get them back?" She
said it depends, that they'd try to have them all back as soon as possible,
but it depends on if they find anything suspicious on them. If they found
contraband (kiddie porn, talk of drugs, or stuff they were actually looking
for), that particular computer would never be coming home.
After the questioning I basically sat in the front room on a folded futon
mattress, with at least one agent with me at all times. Sometimes two. At
one point I said I really needed to brush my teeth and the SS agent
assigned to me at the time walked with me back to the bathroom and stood
behind me watching me in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. On my way back
down the hall I looked into my room and saw 3 FBI agents rifling through my
belongings. One looking at the condoms and stickers in my nightstand, one
going through my underwear/sock drawer, and one looking through my books.
After a lot more sitting in silence in that room, interspersed with tidbits
of conversation (an fbi agent asking me about the guitars, talking about
the piano lessons in his youth, and how he was kicked in the chest by a
horse.) I must say, the SS agents were a lot nicer than the FBI agents. One
in particular was pretty cool - we joked a lot about just how absurd the
whole thing was.. He asked how I was doing, I said I'd had better mornings,
to which he responded "well you'll definitely have one unique experience
more than most people." I definitely have to agree. I know of very few
others that have been through something like this. The blonde FBI agent was
nice (and annoying) enough to tell me repeatedly that the judge would go
easier on me (and they could all go home earlier) if I would just tell them
where the stuff was. If I had it, of course. But if I denied having it,
they'd really throw the book at me *when* they found it.
After more waiting, the FBI agent in charge comes into the room and
explains that they aren't actually pressing charges against me, so I'm not
being detained. I can leave if I want, or walk around the house, etc. This
is a relief. I go grab my shoes and socks (my feet were *freezing* by this
time). After a few more minutes of listening to the bumbling idiots in the
next room arguing over how to turn off my machines, I decide a walk might
be nice. I say I'm leaving to go walk around, that I'll be back to look
over the list of equipment they're seizing. I ask if they'll let me take my
cell phone so they can call me if I need to be back, etc.. They said no. I
wasn't to take any property off the premises. Luckily, I still had my car
keys. I walked over to my car and drove off.
Drove around for a while, then decided I'd stop by Seth's house and tell
him what was going on. Davel answered the door, bleary-eyed. I apologized
for waking him up.. I said "I would have called, but the FBI wouldn't let
me use my cell phone." He said "what???".. I handed him the search warrant.
He said "ohhh, god, come in." and walked me up the stairs.
I broke the news to Seth and he looked as shocked as I felt when I opened
the door at 6:30. Got on ICB and spread the word that the wolves were
circling, and everyone pretty well freaked out.
I hung out with them for a while, then figured I'd better be getting back
so I got back in the car and returned home. It was probably around 10am at
this point. 3.5 hours into the raid. I got there as agents were walking
laps up and down the outside steps, carrying full boxes of my possessions
into their van. I was too late to go over the actual stuff they were
confiscating. suck. I walked upstairs, and found the long haired blonde
agent and the (admittedly very cute) asian evidence photographer still
there, finishing up. Taking photos of the rooms in their condition post-
raid, writing down which exposures corresponded to which room.
The blonde agent handed me the seizure receipt to look over and sign. It
looked ok to me, but I really had no idea at the time that some items
they'd taken weren't on the list.
We joked with the agents some before they left. Asked them for their
business cards, which they declined to give us, saying they would likely be
plastered all over the web. Wise women. We asked if we could get a picture
of them or their badges, which they also denied us. Too bad. Peter walked
them to the steps, and I walked into the office to assess the emptiness.
There were a few times in college when the computer labs would be closed
during the day, due to a bomb threat or a gas leak or whatever. When this
happened all the geeks would wander around outside, eyes squinting in the
unaccustomed glare of the mid-day sun, looking like zombies. You could
always spot a geek on such a day by the way they walked with a certain
slowness in their step. Not a leisure slowness, a dead slowness.
Today was like that for me. I'd lost upwards of 9 machines, and lots of
misc equipment besides. Machines that, according to most people familiar
with this stuff, I may as well write off as gone regardless of whether or
not they ever find anything on them. Thankfully there were many people
around that were willing and able to find the humor in such a preposterous
day. I've been running on laughter all day, unwilling to think about the
fact that this all might end with me in court, or even in jail. I mean, I
did nothing illegal, how can I end up in jail? Leila forced me to at least
acknowledge the gravity of what was going on, but thankfully didn't force
me to dwell on it. I'm hoping I can keep myself laughing about it all until
I pass out. The drinking might start rather early tomorrow.
I don't think the word "surreal" ever described a day better for me.
January 15, 2004
The whole surreal story
So at 6:30am on January 14th, I woke up to the doorbell buzzing. Not a
short lived buzz. Someone had their thumb pressing the button and holding
it there. "****ing drunkard" I thought, and rolled over, intent on ignoring
it. It then started a rythmic *buzz* *buzz* *buzz* *buzz*, over and over
again. After about 5 minutes battling to get back to sleep, I gave up and
got up. Put my pants on, grabbed my sweatshirt, and stumbled off toward the
door.
As I walked down the steps I heard them talking to the nextdoor neighbor,
asking him where the landlord lived. I reach the door just as the
neighbor's door closes. I compose myself to deal with whatever is behind
the door, and open it.
Immediately there's a flashlight in my eyes. "Are you Chris Toshok?" "Uh,
yes" "Mr. Toshok, we're with the FBI. We have a warrant to search the
premises." I looked down out of the glare of the flashlight and saw the FBI
badge of the long haired blonde woman standing in front of me. I also saw
two people behind her, bodies turned sideways so as to present less of a
target. Guns drawn? It was too hard to tell really with the glare of the
flashlight, but I'm assuming yes.
I mumbled something about turning on the light so I could see the warrant
(pages 1 2 3 4 5)they'd thrust into my hands and turned and groped on the
wall for the switch. They all tensed. The light came on, and I looked over
the warrant for a second.
"Please come out here Mr. Toshok," and a hand on my arm pulling me onto the
porch. Once I was out on the porch several agents started up the stairs. I
said that my roommate was still asleep in bed. They asked his name, I said
"Peter". They continued up the steps, yelling his name. "Peter, this is the
FBI." "PETER" "PETER, are you awake? this is the FBI"
I didn't watch it happen but apparently Peter awoke, naked, to a doorway
full of FBI agents with guns out, yelling at him to get up. He asked if he
could get some clothes on. They said yes. He asked if they could turn on
the light so he could see. So Peter got to get dressed under the watchful
gaze of government employees. Must have been fun.
They took Peter to the back of the house, and took me back upstairs to the
front of the house, and proceeded to start going through everything in my
room and the office.
I was questioned by the FBI agent in charge and a Secret Service agent at
length about the Hungry Programmers, people I used to live with, whether
particular people had the capacity/knowledge to do what they were
investigating, etc. During the questioning she says "Now we're going to
take all your computers." She sees the look on my face and says "Yeah, this
is going to be hard for you." I said "uh, when will I get them back?" She
said it depends, that they'd try to have them all back as soon as possible,
but it depends on if they find anything suspicious on them. If they found
contraband (kiddie porn, talk of drugs, or stuff they were actually looking
for), that particular computer would never be coming home.
After the questioning I basically sat in the front room on a folded futon
mattress, with at least one agent with me at all times. Sometimes two. At
one point I said I really needed to brush my teeth and the SS agent
assigned to me at the time walked with me back to the bathroom and stood
behind me watching me in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. On my way back
down the hall I looked into my room and saw 3 FBI agents rifling through my
belongings. One looking at the condoms and stickers in my nightstand, one
going through my underwear/sock drawer, and one looking through my books.
After a lot more sitting in silence in that room, interspersed with tidbits
of conversation (an fbi agent asking me about the guitars, talking about
the piano lessons in his youth, and how he was kicked in the chest by a
horse.) I must say, the SS agents were a lot nicer than the FBI agents. One
in particular was pretty cool - we joked a lot about just how absurd the
whole thing was.. He asked how I was doing, I said I'd had better mornings,
to which he responded "well you'll definitely have one unique experience
more than most people." I definitely have to agree. I know of very few
others that have been through something like this. The blonde FBI agent was
nice (and annoying) enough to tell me repeatedly that the judge would go
easier on me (and they could all go home earlier) if I would just tell them
where the stuff was. If I had it, of course. But if I denied having it,
they'd really throw the book at me *when* they found it.
After more waiting, the FBI agent in charge comes into the room and
explains that they aren't actually pressing charges against me, so I'm not
being detained. I can leave if I want, or walk around the house, etc. This
is a relief. I go grab my shoes and socks (my feet were *freezing* by this
time). After a few more minutes of listening to the bumbling idiots in the
next room arguing over how to turn off my machines, I decide a walk might
be nice. I say I'm leaving to go walk around, that I'll be back to look
over the list of equipment they're seizing. I ask if they'll let me take my
cell phone so they can call me if I need to be back, etc.. They said no. I
wasn't to take any property off the premises. Luckily, I still had my car
keys. I walked over to my car and drove off.
Drove around for a while, then decided I'd stop by Seth's house and tell
him what was going on. Davel answered the door, bleary-eyed. I apologized
for waking him up.. I said "I would have called, but the FBI wouldn't let
me use my cell phone." He said "what???".. I handed him the search warrant.
He said "ohhh, god, come in." and walked me up the stairs.
I broke the news to Seth and he looked as shocked as I felt when I opened
the door at 6:30. Got on ICB and spread the word that the wolves were
circling, and everyone pretty well freaked out.
I hung out with them for a while, then figured I'd better be getting back
so I got back in the car and returned home. It was probably around 10am at
this point. 3.5 hours into the raid. I got there as agents were walking
laps up and down the outside steps, carrying full boxes of my possessions
into their van. I was too late to go over the actual stuff they were
confiscating. suck. I walked upstairs, and found the long haired blonde
agent and the (admittedly very cute) asian evidence photographer still
there, finishing up. Taking photos of the rooms in their condition post-
raid, writing down which exposures corresponded to which room.
The blonde agent handed me the seizure receipt to look over and sign. It
looked ok to me, but I really had no idea at the time that some items
they'd taken weren't on the list.
We joked with the agents some before they left. Asked them for their
business cards, which they declined to give us, saying they would likely be
plastered all over the web. Wise women. We asked if we could get a picture
of them or their badges, which they also denied us. Too bad. Peter walked
them to the steps, and I walked into the office to assess the emptiness.
There were a few times in college when the computer labs would be closed
during the day, due to a bomb threat or a gas leak or whatever. When this
happened all the geeks would wander around outside, eyes squinting in the
unaccustomed glare of the mid-day sun, looking like zombies. You could
always spot a geek on such a day by the way they walked with a certain
slowness in their step. Not a leisure slowness, a dead slowness.
Today was like that for me. I'd lost upwards of 9 machines, and lots of
misc equipment besides. Machines that, according to most people familiar
with this stuff, I may as well write off as gone regardless of whether or
not they ever find anything on them. Thankfully there were many people
around that were willing and able to find the humor in such a preposterous
day. I've been running on laughter all day, unwilling to think about the
fact that this all might end with me in court, or even in jail. I mean, I
did nothing illegal, how can I end up in jail? Leila forced me to at least
acknowledge the gravity of what was going on, but thankfully didn't force
me to dwell on it. I'm hoping I can keep myself laughing about it all until
I pass out. The drinking might start rather early tomorrow.
I don't think the word "surreal" ever described a day better for me.
