The Swaying Chandelier

By Cremston Myers

The Humming Bird.

My attention was caught by these words taken from the book Things Fall a Part

African Proverb

Since Men has learned how to shoot without missing

(You are being preyed upon)

The Humming Bird has learned how to feed without ever perching.

(Xaymica infiltrado Americano)

(Your life has to be an exact case study)

During the 80s I migrated to NYC. In NYC, I attended JHS 204; I graduated and went on to attend LIC High School. I graduated from William Cullen Bryant High School in 1988; however, I identified myself with the kids from LIC and Queens Bridge. I was recruited to attend the Criminal Justice Program at John Jay College. Seven years later, I completed my studies; I had completed all relevant credits in the Masters of Art criminal Justice Program. I had a specialty in criminal law and criminal procedure. I attended the Masters Program while I worked as a Fraud investigator and City Official. Being a Fraud investigator and City official is the only full time possession I have held since I graduated from John Jay. Currently I have completed 16 years on the job.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469151779

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

On April 12, 2011, I was attacked at work. This attack was stunning and most effective; I was left curled up on the floor in a fetal position, blinded and in pain. I was attacked by a female participant; she was very skillful and effective. She came armed with several weapons. She used a chemical agent to steal my sight, and then I was set upon with a cane. The cane broke after I was hit about seven times. I was hit on the head. I was hit on the side of the face. I was hit on my arms and on my shoulders. My attacker was a total female gangster, a recidivist. April 12 was proceeding like any other day; I was feeling good about myself as I usually do. I never expected to be set upon. On the day of the attack, I had completed more than sixteen years as an investigator. This job that was supposed to last for only six months has gone on now for almost two decades. I believed that I had come across every possible scenario. I have interviewed more than fifty thousand participants and never had a problem. I have encountered all types of people from almost all cultures—New York City is a crossroad of cultures. I have also visited countless participants in their homes and never had a problem. I worked as a field investigator for twelve years before I came to work at the attack site.

April 12, 2011, was not the first time I made contact with my attacker; she had presented herself at the office eight days prior to our encounter. She was seeking PA for herself, her boyfriend, and her two children. My attacker was my client; the front desk assigned this person to me. They often single me out to deal with the most disruptive participants. This first started with Saul and my then supervisor, Quail. As I approached this participant, you could tell that she was upset and irate. I introduced myself as Investigator MI-ell; I informed her that we should be seated, and I motioned to my office area. I explained the process and told her that I would need certain documents, particularly her identification. This person failed to sit down when I instructed her to sit; she was now standing over me and demanded that her PA case be accepted and that she should be given PA. She added that her caseworker stated that EVR should accept her case. This was not our function as investigators to accept or deny cases. This participant was belligerent from the onset. She was cursing in the waiting area, and she was now cursing me in the interview area.

During our exchange of words, the participant received a phone call from what appears to be the children’s father. She immediately gave this fella her undivided attention; she also motioned me to go and get my supervisor. She stated that she was done with me. She was still sitting in the interview area when she began a heated conversation with her children’s father. He was upset that she had left him at home with the children and hid the house phone from him. Additionally, she also took the only cell phone in the house. He called, demanding to know where the phone was hidden. They were basically having a fight over the phone right there in the cubicle. I sat and listened. I was particularly interested in the information about the absent parent being in the household; she had applied without him being on the case. She stated that his whereabouts are unknown and that she was not receiving any child support. Here this guy was in the household and was apparently contributing financially to the household.

The people of New York frown at the idea that a man would be hiding from his responsibility to his family, wife, and children. The bureau seeks to expose these people and have them provide child support and other benefits, such as medical insurance. To ease the burden, the city will help, but only those people who demonstrate extenuating circumstances. If you can demonstrate a need for emergency help, such as cash assistance, food assistance, and medical assistance, social service will lift you up and attempt to make you whole. However, we cannot provide assistance to everybody in the city. Only those individuals who need emergency assistance due to loss of a job, eviction, medical emergency, or natural disaster can readily qualify for this assistance. The fine workers within the bureau will explain that if you need PA, you will receive PA; if you do not need PA, you will not receive any benefits. In fact, if you need to go to jail, we will also do that. My attacker was a recidivist and needed the latter treatment.

As I was instructed to get my supervisor, I proceed with the applicant’s request. This interview was a disaster—the participant had total control of the interview process. There was very little I could do henceforth; the last thing you want as an investigator is to allow your client to take over the interview. This was where I was at in this case. As I ran to the back to get my supervisor, she was already on her way out of the interview area. It seems the front desk had informed her quietly of what was taking place; there are always people watching you in the office. Hence, the saying the walls have ears is working at the bureau. Working for the bureau is like being in a fishbowl. You are always being watched. Being watched like this is not a good thing. The people who are watching you do not use this information for good; it is usually used to defame you. I suspect that Jerry and the others were looking at my interaction with the client. The front desk people act as de facto supervisors and are more critical and abusive. For the most part, here you have people stuck due to lack of intellect. They will use their other assets to compensate their climb to that pay scale ladder. This case was sent special delivery for MI-ell.

Before my supervisor could address the situation, my attacker stormed out of the office. My supervisor and I watched as she walked away from the interview area, spewing profanity as she exited the interview area. About two hundred people witnessed this, as the incident took place in plain view of the PA participants awaiting service. Specifically, she was cursing me; she stated that I was a fake Jamaican. She stated that I was probably Haitian or African; she went on to state that I was only a foreign Negro. I took no offense to the participant’s indignant words. I was neither Haitian nor African. As we watched the participant leave the office, it should be noted that we all expressed a sigh of relief. Several investigators approached me, asking what happened. I was a part of a crew they addressed as the penthouse unit. Several seasoned investigators expressed concern. We shrugged off the confrontation and proceeded to inform the chief of the circumstances of this case.

My supervisor and I proceeded to inform the chief of what happened during the interview process concerning this participant; apparently, he already had the facts of the case. Again, the people at the front desk reached out to him during these circumstances. The atmosphere in his office was jubilant. This was a relief to me because I am usually only in the chief’s office to be reprimanded. Personally speaking, this guy was a distasteful twerp. I had prior experience with this person some sixteen years ago. The chief basically swept the situation under the carpet and did not address any security concerns at the time. My supervisor was also relieved because she did not want to be put in a situation to defend me; at the time, I was her assistant and the senior investigator in her unit. For the most part, we thought that the situation had ended; the disposition of the case was denied due to failure to cooperate. The case was referred back to the center. Caseworkers are often better equipped to identify the need of certain PA participants; their decisions override anything that a fraud investigator recommends. Our actions at the bureau had no real effect on her case; we make recommendations only.

As things proceeded on the twelfth of April, I eventually found out how low I was held among my peers, even my supervisor. As I lay there begging for help, my attacker apparently recognized that I was in fact Jamaican. She relented. She explained that her mother is Jamaican, and only for that reason she stopped the attack and fled. As I cried out, I somehow regressed to an earlier state in my life. I begged for my life in my native tongue, pat Waugh. I can’t remember exactly what I said. However, it was enough to stop the attack. I was told that I cried out for Rasta—Rastafari and cursed—blood cloth.

CHAPTER 2

People working at the downtown location had their reasons for not trying to assist me as I was attacked—the information had spread that I was the aggressor. As I ran to the director’s office, he was already informed of what was happening. The front desk had also informed the office managers, Obrien and Elisa, of what was taking place. I remember these people following me around as I moved around the office seeking help. Elisa and Obrien were on the scene even before Kai and my supervisor. It should be noted that they came from the seventh floor to the fifth floor, while my supervisor and office manager were on the same floor as I was on during the attack. Somebody decided that it was more important to inform them of the situation rather than try to understand what happened; it was probably the front desk again, Jerry. Kia and my supervisor were seeking cover for themselves—city officials often seek to cover their ass at all costs to preserve their jobs. This is usually done at the expense of others. I would have liked to know what the report was that was written of this incident; Obrien and Elisa were not downstairs to help me in any way. More likely, they were there to put the final nails in a coffin they thought lay waiting for me. I curse these individuals; they represent this cursed fraternity. They shadowed me everywhere during this incident; I remember them the same way I remember the chandeliers. Not in a very constructive way.

I was eventually assisted by what I would call Florence Nightingale herself, somebody who did not prejudge me and who thought me worthy of assistance. The real story