On September 17, 2009 I was sitting at the table in front of my cell savoring the unusual silence as I was doing some legal work in preparation for my upcoming RICO trial. My work, thoughts, and the silence were broken by the harsh voice of an officer confirming my name and then ordering me out into the hallway where we were joined by other officers. I was searched then handcuffed. I was led away through a tunnel into the old building (MDC Brooklyn has two buildings: one old and one ancient. Years ago multiple judges said that the older building should be condemned). Once there, I was strip searched, put in an orange jumpsuit, and placed in an observation cell in the segregated housing unit (SHU) of the dilapidated building. The entire 45 minute process was punctuated by my protest, questions of why I was being placed in the SHU, and where and when I could get my medicine, legal work, and possessions. My protest and questions were met with silence from my BOP escorts. They, like myself, had no idea why I was being segregated.
When I again asked for my medicine, legal work, cane, and property I was told that they would be brought to me in the SHU as soon as possible. That never happened. I was brought my medicine that very day, and in a few days some of my belongings were given to me but the bulk of my things (my cane, radio, watch, the majority of my groceries, and of the greatest significance most of my strategically important legal work) was never returned to me.
My new cell was charming. It had light-colored, two-toned walls accented by the maroon of dried blood and highlighted with smears of dried shit, but the nastiest color of all was the black clouds of mold that seemed to obliterate the entire ceiling. The cell had a steel observation bed centered in the middle so the observers had a clear view of their victims through a rectangular piece of safety glass cut into the door. A stainless steel commode and sink were mounted to the wall. The outside hallway was dark and dingy with concrete floors covered with grooves of old glue like when a tile floor is removed and never replaced. But the absolute worst feature of my new environment was the ice-cold temperature. Now I'm a life-long New Yorker and as everyone knows it can get pretty damn cold in the winter. So while I don't love the cold like some people do I am used to it and can go for long winter walks and sleigh riding with no problem at all. But this cold was serious. It was bone-chilling cold. It could make your mind foggy and suck the strength and will right from your body. It was so cold that both of my knees were black and blue from knocking together and all of the COs were wearing their winter coats.
So here I am in the MDC's penthouse with no pencil, paper, book, phone, or person to distract me from my miserable existence. I had one thin blanket that I crawled under but it just wasn't enough. The time dragged minutes, hours, days and became one constant battle of fighting the cold and the clock. I repeatedly asked for a different cell. A cell with no mold, hopefully a bit warmer, and a place to sit so I could eat my meals instead of standing or laying on the bed. The observation bed had high metal sides for the restraining straps (if they were needed to subdue an inmate that had to be force-fed, who was extremely violent, or was to be taught a vicious lesson). So, if you sat on the bed the metal would dig into the underside of your thighs adding to the paralyzing numbness that the cold already produced. It seemed no one had the authority to move me; not the COs in charge, or the lieutenant assigned to the SHU.
One night the acting captain came through when I asked to be moved. He checked with the CO as to if there were any empty cells available. The CO said yes. I was sure that I would be moved. The captain said that he just had to make a call. When he came back he stated that he couldn't moved me. Did he not have the power to move me? He was an acting captain, who could stop him? That's when it became crystal clear to me. The BOP was not behind placing me in this deplorable cell in SHU. This was the FBI and the prosecutors trying to break me. You know, make me admit to crimes that I did not commit and say things about other alleged mobsters that were not true.
For those of you that don't know, our government has become experts at torture. They use freezing cold, isolation, sleep deprivation (my lights were often turned on at 2am and turned off throughout the entire day so that I was in a constant daze), amongst many other forms of torture to get what they want. It is another Nazi trick that the FBI has learned all too well. Even some of the COs now understood what was going on and were disgusted by these tactics. One even gave me some extra blankets and another exclaimed in disgust that the government is so very dirty. You see COs are the working Joes of federal law enforcement. They are professional and compassionate unlike the elitist FBI and DEA whose arrogance and abuse of power has caused many tragedies like Waco and Ruby Ridge.
During this time my body can only be described as frail and sickly but God gave me the true power of mankind: a formidable mind. So now with our Heavenly Father's help I would defeat them and break them, not let them break me. In God's protection the freezing cell became just another battle front, and the cold a distraction in my war with corrupt government forces. Again, I asked for my legal work and property. I also demanded a pen and a phone call. Again, I was denied. The COs were sympathetic to me, but when their superiors receive a call from the prosecutors to give someone a tough time they had better pay heed or they were be severely punished.
My lawyer Adam (The Lion) Perlmutter somehow heard of my plight and came to visit me in the SHU. Adam told me that the prosecutors told him a story of why I was placed in these horrible conditions in SHU. According the AUSA Elizabeth (Lizzy the Liar) Geddes, MDC Brooklyn received a telephone call from an outside source threatening my life. A fictional cover story, no doubt made up by FBI Agent in-charge Scott (The Seducer) Curtis. It was all too clear just how sadistic they are. Imagine! I was put in the SHU in this filthy, dirty, contaminated cell, freezing to death for my own safety! You must admit they are hilarious. They are America's Justice Department. The most devious allies: prosecutors and the FBI. Now I have had the unpleasantness of knowing some vile, foul, horrible people in my life and I must tell you that in the ranks of the justice department you will find the very worst. They have not a shred of decency or honor.
Now the reason that the government was trying to get a confession from me was simple. They assumed that I could give them a lot of intelligence about alleged members of organized crime (not true). The other and more important reason was that they had absolutely NO EVIDENCE that I ever committed a crime. There were no wiretaps, no body recordings, no eyewitnesses: NO EVIDENCE. That is not to say that they did not have many folders of documents and pictures all created, not found, by the FBI and most by the lead agent in my case Scott (The Seducer) Curtis. They had hundreds of thousands of hours of recordings and I am not on one. They had numerous surveillance videos and pictures of me: Tommy Gioeli at his daughter's sweet sixteen (that one was a six hour video), Tommy Gioeli pushing his father's wheel chair, Tommy Gioeli petting a dog, Tommy Gioeli watching a soccer game, carrying lumber, and even watching his nephews at peewee football practice.
They had my entire life in pictures and on video but again they had No Evidence of a crime. So they needed me to admit guilt! They knew that the few rats they were going to use against me at my trial couldn't get their scripted stories straight. Even with the constant coaching by the FBI and the prosecutors they just couldn't get their lies to match. So to hell with my innocence that was just a minor formality. They needed my guilty plea. The FBI had invested over twenty years, countless man hours, and millions upon millions of dollars to prove NO CRIME AT ALL. They were so deep they needed a conviction to justify these huge expenditures and senseless waste of time. They probably would have even let me walk out the door a free man. You know, just like Sammy (The Bullshit) Gravano, Joe (The Sausage) Massina, and so many other lunatics and mass murderers who have become part of Team America. Some team, what a disgrace! I wanted no part of their lies and treachery.
So my next step was to have a hearing in court about more than a few issues. There was my physical health that was deteriorating rapidly, the reason why I was in SHU, and the constitutional violation of my missing legal work. Judge (Buster Brown) Cogan was much too busy. He is far too important to be bothered by such trivial matters so he allocated these hearings to a magistrate judge, an amateur comic from New York's Eastern District that makes his rulings for the benefit of the press, Judge Ramon E. (Desi Arnaz) Reyes Jr. On the day of the first hearing my spirits were buoyed by the sharp ultimatum that he gave to the prosecutors: if they could not get me healthy he had no choice but to grant me bail so that I could seek doctors that could improve my health. Adam asked for the status of the investigation into the alleged threat on my life. Lizzy the Liar stuttered and stammered some nonsense about not knowing and that she would know more at the next hearing. Bullshit! The jig was up. Everyone in the courtroom knew that the threat originated with the government. The hearing was a partial success; it got me a few quick results. They moved my cell to a warmer, cleaner one upon my return from court. They also returned my cane. But that was the first and last time Judge Reyes gave me something to be positive about.
At the next hearing the prosecutors brought out the big guns. They even had a lawyer from the BOP to refute my claims of missing legal work and property. They stated that it was impossible for my things to be missing because it was BOP policy to pack the contents of an inmates cell in their presence before they are placed in the SHU. That is a blatant lie! BOP policy is to SHU the inmate first and then pack their belongings at a later time (sometimes even days later). Next, they said they have no record of me, Tommy Gioeli, ever having purchased a radio while at MDC. The last ludicrous statement that they made in open court was that they did not know who made the threat on my life, or who was handling the investigation and that we may never find out. When I expressed concern about my family's safety as someone threatening my life would surely have an easier time getting to my family as I am in prison and they are at home, AUSA Lizzy the Liar laughed. Apparently the safety of civilians is comical.
We asked the judge for some direction. We stated that we thought the threats originated with the government. The judge said that if he took the prosecutors into his chambers and they admitted that it was them who called the MDC and made the threat on my life, or were involved in any way, there was nothing he could do about it anyway. I was amazed at this blatant lie. He just told the prosecutors and FBI agents, who are always present at my court dates, that they could do anything that they wanted in regards to my case and to my person and there was nothing that he could or would do about it. This was crazy. Could they plant evidence? Could they throw me down a flight of stairs? Could they go to my house and threaten and scare my family? Could they continue to torture and maybe even kill me? All of these possibilities and this judge is telling me, them, and the world that there is nothing he could do about it.
Then the judge went on to make a few wisecracks about my diet and my need for a toe-nail clipper. So he received many kudos from the prosecutors, the FBI, and the pro-government press. I hope that this imbecile moved on to a career as a stand-up because no one could ever receive justice at his hands. Still not a complete loss. Upon this return from court I was moved to the SHU in the newer building with a shower in my cell and real heat. I cannot give you a timeline because it has been five years and like I said before the days were just blurred together. I can tell you I was placed in the SHU on September 17, 2009 and I was released on October 23, 2009. Although the SHU inmates are allowed to make one phone call per week I was not allowed a call until October 14, 2009.
At my next hearing date it was us who brought out the big guns. I dug out the old receipts for my radio, watch, and most of the other items that went missing. When we presented the receipts at the hearing, Lizzy (The Liar) Geddes, after stating some unbelievable lie that she meant something different than I never bought a radio, finally conceded and said that she would replace the missing radio. She said nothing of the legal work and other valuables that went missing. The judge never pressed the prosecutors for anything further and at later dates when we broached the subject of my missing legal work with Buster Brown Cogan we were completely ignored.
It has been five years since my legal work has gone missing. I have fought at trial, I have been sentenced, and I have gone to prison in North Carolina; I never received my radio, watch, groceries, or any of my legal work. Legal work that if I had at trial I would have probably been completely exonerated. I have tried many times through the Freedom of Information Act and all of the different agencies: BOP, FBI, and the Justice Dept. to find out exactly who made the alleged threat on my life and/or if the alleged threat was real. All of my requests have come back with the phony reason of why they cannot divulge that information. Just another example of how a tyrannical government makes a Police State.
Stronger today than Yesterday.