Fouad Kaady’s 29th Birthday

author: Lew Nassa - published in Portland Indymedia

On Monday, Fouad would have been twenty nine years old, and presumably enjoying his new found career as a real estate salesman. He would still be the loving son, brother, friend, and human being that so many here have reported about.

On Monday, Fouad would have been twenty nine years old, and presumably enjoying his new found career as a real estate salesman. He would still be the loving son, brother, friend, and human being that so many here have reported about.

That did not happen. Instead, he was cruelly tortured and murdered by the fascist tools of the corporate state, Officer Bergin (Sandy Police) and Deputy Willard (Clackamas County Sheriff.

On September 6, 2005, Fouad was driving his parent's car, apparently carrying gasoline to his pickup truck, which had run out of gas. It was a hot day, and we think that he was clad only in shorts. At some point in this trip, something went dreadfully wrong. Initial reports indicate that Fouad was involved in a rear end collision with a car being driven by a Ms. Tiffany Stanko. From some witness' accounts, he may have already had a fire inside the vehicle, or it may have combusted when he struck Ms. Stanko's car. At any rate, he did not stop, as he may have been otherwise engaged (people who are on fire sometimes do strange things). Ms Stanko started the law enforcement gang rolling with her cell phone cries for help.

Meantime, Fouad was still careening down the rural highway, and struck a couple more cars, before running off the road and bailing out, tearing what little clothing remained from his body, while fleeing the flaming car, which was a total wreck.
Here, a "coincidental" thing happened: Ms Stanko's uncle, who was working on a survey crew nearby, chased Fouad into the woods with a baseball bat. According to him, he caught up to Fouad, and tried to grab him, but since Fouad's skin was burned and peeling, and he was bloody, he lost his grip as Fouad kicked out at him. Fouad fell to the ground at that point, then rose, and continued to run, through the woods, apparently hysterical with pain.

By this time, there are countless first responders in the area, including an ambulance, a couple of fire rigs, and multiple agency police. Enter our two heros: Willard, who a few moments ago was many miles away, finishing part of his lunch and trying to decide whether to have his power bar or his afternoon prayer, and Bergin, a rookie in Sandy, who was also headed for lunch when he heard the calls for aid. Upon arrival in the area, Willard removed his shotgun from his patrol unit, and took off like Rifleman, through the woods, presumably to bag an elk or something similar.

Unable to see the victim (Fouad IS the victim), he returned to the safety of the street, when Bergin came screaming up in his patrol car. About this time, a witness came by, saying that they saw a badly bleeding naked man, about a quarter mile up the road from where this assembly of first responders were congregated. Of course, Willard leaped into Bergin's car, and they screamed off like Batman and Robin, in hopes of being first to "bag" this helpless victim.

When they arrived, according to both officers, Fouad was "seated, Indian style (cross legged), naked, bleeding, with skin hanging from his body, rocking back and forth, in a catatonic state, and moaning." Seeing that Fouad was unarmed, and obviously injured, Willard said and did the only intelligent thing that he did in the entire encounter, he "transitioned to less lethal force (taser), and put down his shotgun. Of course, he had another brain lapse at this point (shoulda had the power bar), he tossed the loaded shotgun onto the hood of Bergin's car, and both officers draw their electric torture tools, and advance upon the victim (catatonic, seated, naked, bleeding, injured, etc.), yelling in typical "Cops" style (can't you just hear them?) for him to prone himself on the hot pavement. When he did not comply with these ridiculous demands, Bergin began tasering him, and continued until his toy ran out of electricity. Then, because the victim was writhing in pain, and they had no idea what to do with him (obviously, the idea of first aid never occurred to them), Willard similarly discharged his taser until empty.

Fouad, when added pain of the tasers ceased to torture him momentarily, did the only thing anyone would do in such a state, he fled the pain givers, and climbed to the highest refuge that he could find, the top of the patrol cars.

The protectors of the public peace had by this time decided (according to their statements) that there was no way that they could allow Fouad to leave, and yet, that there was also no way that they would allow him to touch them (all that icky blood and skin and stuff), so they had no choice. They shot him seven times, and at some point in this homicidal action, Fouad's young life was terminated.

Because of these fine individual's insensitivity to the agony that the victim was suffering, and their unwarranted fear of blood (first responders?), Fouad's family and friends must now SUFFER through his birthday, rather than celebrate it.

Please take a moment to share their pain, and to consider what has brought us to the state we are now in, where such egregious actions were not even condemned by a grand jury, led by the District Attorney, mentioned above. How will you be treated, if ever you are injured, bleeding, and burned?

A quick search of Indy, using Fouad's name will bring up past entries, for those who have just joined us.