Heartbreaking: Jan-6 Political Prisoner with Good Heart Speaks Out from the DC “GITMO” After Months of Abuse and Mistreatment from His Government – Please Help Robert If You Can!

After months of mischaracterization in the media, January 6th defendant Robert Gieswein has released a statement from inside the D.C. jail.

The one-sided telling of Gieswein’s story has been circling the mainstream media since January 18th, when he turned himself in for his involvement in the January 6th riot at the Capitol.

The Washington Post, in one example, tried to tie him to three extremist groups without evidence to support the claim or even speaking to him before publication.

Despite causing no injuries and having no criminal history, Gieswein has been denied bail and held in pre-trial detention for the last eleven months.

He drove from Colorado to Washington D.C. to show his support for free and fair elections and to safeguard our Constitutional rights. He was compelled not by frenzied vigilantism, but by his support for then-President Donald Trump.

A descendent of John and Samuel Adams by maternal lineage, Gieswein inherited a great reverence for American liberties, deeply embedded in his blood.

Gieswein is being held without bond in the D.C. Correctional Treatment Facility and faces six charges and over 50 years in prison. Despite being charged with assault of an officer with a dangerous weapon, the officer named reported no injuries.

Hello ladies and gentlemen, my name is Robert Gieswein.  I am a January 6th detainee, being held at the DC Jail.  I was arrested after turning myself in on January 18th and have been held without bail ever since.  I would like to start by talking about my life and my family pre-January 6th.   I moved to Colorado in 2014 when I was in eleventh grade.  Immediately after high school, I became a certified nurses’ aide at my local nursing home.  It was so rewarding for me to take care of the elderly.  I grew wonderful relationships with my residents.  I took pride in end-of-life care, you can really feel people’s emotions when you take care of them and take pride in making those people happy.  It was also a very taxing and emotional job.  When you take care of the elderly inevitably some of them pass away in your career.  This is very hard to handle.

In January 2018 my stepfather Patrick Bashlor passed away from a massive heart attack.  He was my true father even though we didn’t share blood.  My family struggled because of this.  My father was the sole provider for my mother and little sister.  At this point in my life, I had already been out of my parent’s house for several years. I lived with my girlfriend and her three kids. When Patrick died, my girlfriend and I moved in with my Mom and sister to help support them.  I struggled emotionally and financially from my father’s death.  I could no longer survive on the wages I made at the nursing home, because of this I had to find a new job.  Luckily a local casino was training Table Games Dealers.  This job paid better and was very fun.  At this point, I was also applying for Trinidad State Gunsmithing College to become a gunsmith.  Unfortunately in November of 2020, I lost my job due to the Covid 19 pandemic.  This along with everything else being shut down due to the virus and a Presidential Election with huge voter irregularities I fell into a very low point in my life.  I was so incredibly lost and confused about my life’s path.  Also, because of my lack of income, me and my longtime girlfriend began to struggle in our relationship.  We decided to live separately to work on our relationship.  This was very hard on me because we had at that point been together for six years.  On December 29th, the day after my twenty-fourth birthday one of my best friends was shot in the chest due to an accidental discharge from another one of our good friends.

He was in critical condition and because of Covid I was not allowed to visit him in the hospital.  We did not think that he would make it.

On January 2nd, one of my friends told me that President Trump wanted Patriots to show up in D.C. on January 6th.  Thankfully I had just got the $600 stimulus check so I could afford to go and show my support.  I was so excited, I left Colorado to head to D.C. the next day on January 3rd.  I left my dogs with my Mom and hit the road.  It took me about twenty-eight hours to get to D.C. only stopping to get gas.  I arrived in D.C. somewhere around 10 PM January 4th.  I have always lived in small towns, so the traffic was really stressful and confusing.  I didn’t know that you had to pay to park and I could not afford it.  Luckily a security guard instructed me where and how I could park my car for free.  I had brought my bicycle to assist me in getting around the city.  The historical monuments and buildings were breathtaking, but surprisingly I noticed that the city was disgusting.  There are homeless people all over living in squalor, trash all over, many of the buildings were boarded up, and rats the size of dogs running all over the place.  This was the first time that I had been to D.C.  That night I was so excited I barely slept.  The next morning on January 5th I went to Freedom Plaza for the festivities they were putting on for the Stop The Steal Rally, because I was expecting counter-protesters I wore protective gear like goggles, ballistic helmet, and a ballistic vest.  In addition, I brought tons of medical supplies.  Counter protestors like Antifa and BLM are known to attack innocent Trump supporters.  At this event I met tons of amazing patriotic people.  I stayed there all day talking to people and having a great time.  I stayed late into the night and followed a group of Trump supporters to BLM Plaza.  There was a handful of Antifa there and a sea of police, who did not allow Trump supporters to go into BLM Plaza.  I eventually left to head back to my car.

I got up very early the morning of January 6th and headed for the Washington Monument.  Along the way I ran into many Trump supporters heading to the speech. It was such a beautiful sight, it was only around 7 am and there were already tens of thousands of Patriots. My goal that day was to protect people from counter-protestors, which I thought would be mixed into the crowd and cause problems.  While walking down the street I saw a group of gentlemen standing together, all wearing protective gear as well.  I introduced myself and asked if I could hang out with them.  They said yes and informed me that they were Proud Boys and that they were also there to protect people.  This was the first time that I had met Proud Boys in person.  We did small walks around the town, seeing what was going on while watching a sea of Trump supporters heading to the speech.  After a while, we decided to head to the speech.  I was in shock and awe by all the people.  I have never seen that many people all together in one spot in my whole life.  There were people selling merch, food trucks, and all kinds of people passing petitions and flyers out.  This reminded me how proud that I felt to be an American.  When I got to the Washington Monument the Proud Boys that I was hanging out with introduced me to the rest of the Proud Boy groups that had come.  If I had to guess, it was about two hundred of them.

At about 10 am, this large group of Proud Boys said that they were going to walk around the Capital to look for Antifa.  I decided to join them and we ended up rallying on a side street by the Capital to get food and drinks at a couple of food trucks.  The group then walked to the west side of the Capital, because they noticed a massive group of Patriots walking to that spot.  Thousands of people gathered in the street and were talking and chanting things like U.S.A and Stop The Steal.  All of a sudden the crowd started pouring onto the Capital lawn heading towards the building.  I ended up following the crowd.  When I got to the concrete on the lower west terrace of the Capital I witnessed Patriots with their hands up asking the cops to do the right thing.  They told the police, we back you, an election was just stolen, and that they should turn around.  Not even five minutes later, the police started deploying munitions.  I witnessed a man get shot through the cheek with a rubber bullet.  There was blood everywhere, another man got pulled out on a stretcher and there was a man on top of him performing CPR.  The cops continued to attack the peaceful crowd of demonstrators. It felt like a war zone.  Eventually, the crowd started fighting back and standing their ground.  The crowd pleaded with the cops to stop attacking, but they would not.  The police sprayed massive amounts of pepper spray, threw flashbangs, shot people with pepper balls, rubber bullets, 40mm block rifles, beat people with batons, and threw CS gas at the protestors including women, children, and the elderly.  Later that day, inside the U.S. Capital a policeman shot and killed an unarmed protestor, Ashli Babbit, a fourteen year Air Force Veteran for climbing in a window.  Another woman, Roseanne Boyland was beaten to death while unconscious by Officer Lila Morris on the west terrace.

After this tragic day, I headed back to Colorado. When I got home, I was in shock by what I had witnessed.  On January 17th, the FBI executed a search warrant and warrant for my arrest.  They raided my girlfriend’s house, when this happened the news was already there, they destroyed her house.  Her oldest son was walking home from work. The FBI tackled him and held a gun to his head, because they thought it was me.  We look nothing alike, I am only 5’9 and he is 6’2.  The next day, my Mom informed me what had happened, so I turned myself in to my local sheriff’s office.

Since then, I have experienced horrific conditions and a lack of compassion.  I have never been arrested and have no criminal record.  I have tried for bond several times, but have been denied.  I cannot afford a private attorney and cannot pay my bills without help.  In March, my little sister became very sick with an Autoimmune Disorder. Because of my sister’s sickness, my Mom cannot work, because she has to stay home to take care of her.  My mom struggles to keep up with both of our finances.  This made me feel abandoned by my Country.

In March I was sent to the D.C. jail, where I remain.  I have experienced things like 23-and-1 lockdown for months on end.  They have all the January 6th detainees housed in the same pod.  We have been able to suffer this fight together since then.  I love these men like brothers, no matter how much torture we have endured, we stay patriotic and help each other.  We sing the National Anthem every night at 9 pm.  We love this country, despite our current status.  The news completely lies about these men and I. We are not racistsWe are not terrorists. We love our Country and always will.  We are Patriots!

In closing, please contact your public officials to help fight and get us home.   Thank you for reading this. God bless you and God bless the United States of America.

Gieswein’s innate compassion has found expression beyond his life’s work and commitment to family. In the hopelessness of indefinite pre-trial detention in D.C.’s “deplorable” jail, Gieswein has regularly prepared communal meals and special occasion cakes for other January 6th inmates from resourcefully scrounged commissary and lousy tray foods.

As the “Patriot Pod” chef, Gieswein’s meals have given men from all walks of life, of various race and religion, who were at once complete strangers, the opportunity to break bread together over a single meal shared communally.

The Constitution protects Americans from cruel and unusual punishment, guarantees the right to a fair and speedy trial, and promises due process of law—rights that Gieswein has been denied.

A majority of the January 6th defendants are working with public defenders who advise them to disavow their beliefs and lie in court. These lawyers hate their clients because of their support for President Trump.

Gieswein is one of those men who is presently represented by a public defender. He desperately needs to hire a private attorney who can tell his story in court. Please help make that a reality.

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