Dr.Depravity
08-16-2005, 05:57 PM
Fair Tales is a daily report on people at the Iowa State Fair
Nostrils flaring.
Body shaking.
Hands cuffed.
This is not shaping up to be a good day for Rick Goehr.
Hi there!" he shouts to the cluster of Iowa State Patrol troopers and other law-enforcement officers gathered around a makeshift desk in this makeshift jail next to Gate 11, the main west entrance to the Iowa State Fairgrounds.
Goehr tries to smile. Sgt. Craig Matzke, the man manning the desk, slightly raises an eyebrow.
"How you doing?" the Polk County deputy asks.
Not so good, the 26-year-old admits.
If there's a dark side to the State Fair and based on the 34 arrests from the fair's first Friday night, the stories officers tell about bitten-off lips and life-threatening fights, and the steady flow of troublemakers making their way to this garage-turned-jail, there is.
This is where that dark side comes for a timeout.
That includes Goehr, who's trying to explain that being here in handcuffs, getting a simple assault ticket and being led out of the fair is absolutely, positively not his fault.
Goehr explains, in as colorful language as he can, that another man went up to his wife and told her he was going to have sex with her.
You know I didn't want this! Goehr shouts. You get the other . . . guy who said he was going to (expletive) my wife!
The troopers shake their heads no.
I hate the (expletive) fair, Goehr says sullenly.
While tens of thousands are loving the fair every day, a few dozen, like Goehr, are finding that the fair's jail is not nearly as much fun as the Bud Tent or the midway.
They want to argue their case here, and this just isn't the place for it, Matzke says. A lot of these fights happen at the fair.
The night goes on, people are having fun, people are eating, strolling, watching shows, and a few people are causing problems.
A young man is brought in for underage drinking. Another rambles nonstop as he's processed for public intoxication. One guy urinates on the jail floor. Three women complain about the stranger in a beer tent who harassed them. A pool of blood is cleaned up at The Depot, a young man breaks a bar light with his hand, minors drink when they shouldn't.
There are assaults and too much drinking, angry women and wanted men. Those with warrants go to jail. Those with a good attitude and minor offenses go home with a ticket.
At one point, Steven Edwards, 22, walks in with his hands cuffed behind his back: Dude, I was not grabbing any 16-year-old's butt.
He swears a few times. He rolls his eyes. He's not happy to be here, and it shows.
Listen to me, Des Moines police officer Jeff Cronin warns. You got a little attitude going on.
No, I don't! Edwards shouts.
Go with the flow, get the ticket and get out, Matzke says.
Edwards nods, but moments later, in the next room, he refuses to take his blood-alcohol test.
Man, I've watched people doing more . . . out here than me, he grumbles.
He's going to jail! yells State Trooper Chad Page.
Page shakes his head.
I gave him every opportunity, he says.
This is the essence of the jail: Angry people come here, cops decide what to do with them. Some, like Edwards, go to jail.
Some, like Goehr, go home.
Goehr fills out paperwork, quickly answers his cell phone Hey, I can't talk; I'm in jail right now and is escorted out by a trooper.
Past the chain-link fence, past the small offices that make up the trooper's headquarters, past the tent with the classic rock and the kid with the funnel cake and the west-side fair entrance.
Outside, Goehr meets his wife and talks about what happened: A shirtless guy all puffed up had some choice words about her.
I said, I don't want trouble, Goehr says. He said, Back up, dude. He kept on, and I head-butted him. His nose was bleeding.
Just then, an older man, in his 60s or 70s, bumps into Goehr's wife, spilling beer.
Sorry! Im drunk, the old man yells, stumbling.
"Its OK, Goehr's wife says kindly.
"Im drunk! the old man continues, stumbling toward Goehr, reaching out an arm, leaning against him. Drunk!
Goehr calms himself. Hes still shaking a little, but he smiles anyway.
He takes a deep breath.
Its OK, he says. Just go away.
And with that, the old drunk and the young man go their separate ways.
Ahhh I love this state!
Nostrils flaring.
Body shaking.
Hands cuffed.
This is not shaping up to be a good day for Rick Goehr.
Hi there!" he shouts to the cluster of Iowa State Patrol troopers and other law-enforcement officers gathered around a makeshift desk in this makeshift jail next to Gate 11, the main west entrance to the Iowa State Fairgrounds.
Goehr tries to smile. Sgt. Craig Matzke, the man manning the desk, slightly raises an eyebrow.
"How you doing?" the Polk County deputy asks.
Not so good, the 26-year-old admits.
If there's a dark side to the State Fair and based on the 34 arrests from the fair's first Friday night, the stories officers tell about bitten-off lips and life-threatening fights, and the steady flow of troublemakers making their way to this garage-turned-jail, there is.
This is where that dark side comes for a timeout.
That includes Goehr, who's trying to explain that being here in handcuffs, getting a simple assault ticket and being led out of the fair is absolutely, positively not his fault.
Goehr explains, in as colorful language as he can, that another man went up to his wife and told her he was going to have sex with her.
You know I didn't want this! Goehr shouts. You get the other . . . guy who said he was going to (expletive) my wife!
The troopers shake their heads no.
I hate the (expletive) fair, Goehr says sullenly.
While tens of thousands are loving the fair every day, a few dozen, like Goehr, are finding that the fair's jail is not nearly as much fun as the Bud Tent or the midway.
They want to argue their case here, and this just isn't the place for it, Matzke says. A lot of these fights happen at the fair.
The night goes on, people are having fun, people are eating, strolling, watching shows, and a few people are causing problems.
A young man is brought in for underage drinking. Another rambles nonstop as he's processed for public intoxication. One guy urinates on the jail floor. Three women complain about the stranger in a beer tent who harassed them. A pool of blood is cleaned up at The Depot, a young man breaks a bar light with his hand, minors drink when they shouldn't.
There are assaults and too much drinking, angry women and wanted men. Those with warrants go to jail. Those with a good attitude and minor offenses go home with a ticket.
At one point, Steven Edwards, 22, walks in with his hands cuffed behind his back: Dude, I was not grabbing any 16-year-old's butt.
He swears a few times. He rolls his eyes. He's not happy to be here, and it shows.
Listen to me, Des Moines police officer Jeff Cronin warns. You got a little attitude going on.
No, I don't! Edwards shouts.
Go with the flow, get the ticket and get out, Matzke says.
Edwards nods, but moments later, in the next room, he refuses to take his blood-alcohol test.
Man, I've watched people doing more . . . out here than me, he grumbles.
He's going to jail! yells State Trooper Chad Page.
Page shakes his head.
I gave him every opportunity, he says.
This is the essence of the jail: Angry people come here, cops decide what to do with them. Some, like Edwards, go to jail.
Some, like Goehr, go home.
Goehr fills out paperwork, quickly answers his cell phone Hey, I can't talk; I'm in jail right now and is escorted out by a trooper.
Past the chain-link fence, past the small offices that make up the trooper's headquarters, past the tent with the classic rock and the kid with the funnel cake and the west-side fair entrance.
Outside, Goehr meets his wife and talks about what happened: A shirtless guy all puffed up had some choice words about her.
I said, I don't want trouble, Goehr says. He said, Back up, dude. He kept on, and I head-butted him. His nose was bleeding.
Just then, an older man, in his 60s or 70s, bumps into Goehr's wife, spilling beer.
Sorry! Im drunk, the old man yells, stumbling.
"Its OK, Goehr's wife says kindly.
"Im drunk! the old man continues, stumbling toward Goehr, reaching out an arm, leaning against him. Drunk!
Goehr calms himself. Hes still shaking a little, but he smiles anyway.
He takes a deep breath.
Its OK, he says. Just go away.
And with that, the old drunk and the young man go their separate ways.
Ahhh I love this state!