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John Morin stories
John Morin is a former Lansing resident who now lives in Holt.
Domestic and other assaults
Edwar Zeineh had told me that he had never had a current client/defendant to his home in the past. He asked me on a number of occasions not to ever tell anyone that he lived at 2627 Little Hickory Drive, a subdivision of expensive houses off of Grovenberg. I promised that I would keep his secret; that was until he found more ways to lie to me. I counted on him to represent me on lawsuits, to be honest with me at all times. I asked him to visit my home many times to see the damage and wanton destruction the out-of-control police were allowed to do. He claimed that from the videos he could ascertain what had occurred and base his case on that.
The City sent me a notice for a deposition to be taken on August 4, 2016. I was confident going in that with the past bad behavior of the police, along with the current case, the City had a lot of explaining to do. I took time off from work and arrived early, prepared for battle. When I arrived, there were people going in and out of offices but I did not see Eddie anywhere. Finally someone asked who I was and I explained with the letter that I was there to be deposed. They went and got others who finally told me that the deposition had been postponed. I was slightly aggravated that it appeared that I was the only one not notified. Turned out that Eddie was in the middle east visiting family. I did run my mouth about how the City is so broken that the head prosecutor could freely pick up prostitutes in my neighborhood with very little concern. Why? Because there is no one you can call. I had concerns with Eddie, having a business relationship with his brother Simon over renting a building, so I let things go to see where it would lead. The camera, the lie about the drugs Sheri was on, and now the deposition. When he returned, his first act was to fire his secretary for failing to notify me about the cancelled deposition. I felt that it was extreme and unwarranted. Then one evening I was hanging out at Michigan Mart. Dave was running the register. There were a couple others there, and Eddie. Dave had made a small change mistake on an item and after the customer left, Eddie started screaming at Dave for his mistake. Dave is a nice enough person, but you can tell he does have a few problems and he reacted by going outside, walking back and forth in front of the store talking to himself, both angry and upset. Eddie walked around the store, as if in front of a jury explaining his justification of how he treated Dave. I got up and went out and spoke to Dave to calm him and have him go back inside to do his job. Said wasn't there and I know that he would not have allowed Eddie to treat Dave that way. Of the three brothers, I felt that Said was the only one I could actually trust in the end. But that is for later.
While this was going on, my hands were starting to get full dealing with Marc at the dispensary. On a number of times I had to step in and pay rents and utilities; Simon was quick to call me if the rent was late. I was working a full time job, helping build a grow operation for another guy, and help run the one I had going. It was nothing to put in sixteen plus hours everyday. But one day, both Ron and I showed up at the dispensary to see Marc. Ryan Perry was working the counter. We asked where Marc was and he nodded toward the garage area. The door was locked which was unusual, and when I went to open it, Ryan told me Marc had a girl back there. That was not part of what we planned, so I waited patiently until he came out to talk with him. The talk became heated when an elderly lady and two young teenage girls came out from the back with him. I could tell he was shocked to see me, I had rarely been there after I had built it, always off to the next challenge. That was only the first of many confrontations with Marc on what direction he chose to take.
And then there was Sheri. She did fine for a time, but the lure of the drug became more than she could overcome. I needed to be at home to deal with her problems. Instead I was running around fixing those of everyone else. The night before Thanksgiving I discovered a guitar that I had inherited from my father was missing. Sheri had taken it along with her daughter to Marshall Music in Frandor and sold it to one of the customers there. I was angry, frustrated, mad at Eddie for not having the City handle the rehab she badly needed. I yelled at her a few times for failing, for not being strong enough. I never hit her, only yelled at her. I had slept on the recliner couch that night and when she got out of bed, I jumped in. When she came back into the room I once again told her how mad I was for her failing. I didn't blame her for hitting me; using a bat was a bit much, though. I took a shot across my legs. My back was to her and I didn't see it coming. The second shot I caught and pushed her backwards, allowing me to get out of bed and defend myself. She yelled "stop". I put down a stick I had and retreated to the living room. I picked up the house phone and looked at Sheri and told her that she needed more help than what I could provide her. Her reaction was swift: I didn't even realize she had come out and tore the jack to the phone off the wall, and then she quickly returned to the bedroom, shutting and locking the door. She was afraid that I was going to call the police on her and have her locked up. I stood shocked as she called 911 and accused me of domestic assault. That is what happens when drugs take over a person's ability to realize what they are doing. I waited on the police. I believed that they would be able to discern that she was on drugs and get her the help she needed. When it became an issue, I asked the male officer if I could call Eddie who could explain as a court officer that Sheri had made false claims previously while on drugs. I figured they would not want to open up another can of worms after the last fiasco. But the female officer wasn't interested in justice; she just seen another person she could lock up and demanded I hang up the call to my lawyer. I told both that Sheri was a danger to herself and I would probably lose everything I had because of the drugs she was on. I went to jail giving my opinion along the way. Yes, I accused the LPD of stealing two hundred dollars from my safe when they raided me. Yes, when I asked for paperwork from my wallet, one cop spoke up and said I had to say please to them if I wanted anything. And yes, I told him that I would bite my tongue off before I said please to a pig. Incompetence ruled that day.
daughter had come into the picture, and she had been involved in drugs for years and seen the opportunity of selling of my property to a drug dealer she knew of. Smooth, as he likes to be called, lived in a rundown two story at 1428 New York Avenue. He is your typical drug dealer - constantly pushing drugs onto people to get them addicted and slowly drain everything of value from them. He thought of himself a pimp since he was able to threaten girls and young women into sex. I went around and spoke with his neighbors, all of whom had bad encounters with him over the years. It was a neighborhood in fear. I found it interesting a school was just down the street from the house. Slowly, much of what I owned ended up at that house. Some things I never recovered, such as the bowflex or the blue van I had bought for the vending business. Said at Michigan Mart had called LPD for me, and I spoke with them about a drug dealer having property of mine. Their attitude was that it was a civil issue and would not get involved. I decided to go over to that house and with a second set of keys, intended on getting my van back. When Smooth seen me, he attacked me in the van and was able to wrest the key from me. I had a few opportunities to hit him, but I pulled back. I was going through this because of police failure. I'm over sixty years old fighting someone half my age, and the police don't care.
Marc fired everyone at the dispensary and brought in a group that acted like thugs. They were blatantly selling hard drugs out of the dispensary, often making parking lot deals. On top of that, I heard that they were running prostitutes out of it also. I went to Simon telling him what was happening. He just shrugged about the drugs and prostitution, but when I mentioned that Marc had hired a crew of black guys who appear gang affiliated, he became very mad going off on a racist rant. Marc had also changed the locks on the doors, preventing me access to the dispensary. I asked Simon for a copy of the lease, that I wanted the dispensary closed down. It would take weeks to get the lease, and when I did, I was listed as a witness. When I asked what had happened, he told me that Marc had taken all of the copies of the lease the night it had been signed, and any changes, he had done. I asked, What the hell can I do with this? Simon suggested that I just break into it, to which I said, "I'm the legal renter and I am not going to get caught up breaking into what I pay rent for". I went to the dispensary with lease in hand only to have Marc call the police and have me removed. The lease I had was not worth toilet paper. Simon said he refused to get involved. At a later date I spoke to Eddie about it. He suggested that I should white out the wording and recopy it. I told him I was not going to break any laws to get justice.
And then Sheri came up missing. I got a call from her sister concerned about her whereabouts. I agreed to come to the house and let LPD in to search for her. Inside I found some letters Sheri had written which concerned me considering her mental state. The house was a disaster; thousands of dollars of my property was missing. I searched the house with the police officer. He chose to keep the letters Sheri had written. She was nowhere to be found. The next day I contacted Eddie and I was able to return home, but I would have to leave if Sheri showed up. Later that day I got a phone call from Red; he lived two doors down. When I answered, he thought I was Sheri and commented on how I got out of the hospital so fast. When he realized it was me, he told me how his dog had kept hitting on a window until he finally went outside. It was winter and very cold. He discovered Sheri in his driveway apparently injured. He contacted the police and she was transported by ambulance to Sparrow Hospital. Discovering that she was in the hospital was actually a relief for me; she was being cared for. I also knew that if the police felt fowl play, I was suspect number one. Sure, everyone wanted to blame Sheri for the thefts, but I also suspected others. Everyone was telling me I had to get rid of her. Marc was telling me how she was selling my things. I put value on people, not on things; I felt others had ulterior motives to keep Sheri and I separate. I also knew that Sheri knew everything - who said and did what. I also live by the fact that Sheri and I have been together for many years. Even though we are not married, there is that saying, for better or for worse. I felt that it was my duty to be there for her on her worst of times. I wouldn't feel like much of a man if not.
hands behind my head, preventing any serious injury. Looking upfrom the ground I asked Simon if my life was only worth a lousy 15 hundred bucks. I slowly got up, looking at Simon, about 100 pounds more than I and half my age. I said to him that in my world men use fists, they don't push each other in the back. I told him while on the sidewalk that if he wanted a piece of me, come get it. He ran down the steps, flying towards me as I prepared for the hit, but then he stops and his right foot is aimed between my legs. Barely turned and blocked his foot, at which time I walked away yelling to the neighborhood that Simon Zeineh is nothing more than a thieving bitch. I then got in my car and returned home, telling Sheri what had happened. I videotaped myself in the mirror explaining what had happened and the injuries I sustained.
And then came the knock on the door. It was for me. Three LPD, one in uniform and two in civvies, standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I approached them cautiously; I had not called the police. They mentioned Simon, so I explained what had happened and that I was just attempting to recover a security deposit. I had called Eddie earlier, but he hadn't answered. When I finished, the officer asked me if I wanted to press charges. I do not trust LPD. I told them that I only wish to get my money returned and chose not to press charges. They were not there to hear my story but would have arrested me if I had chosen to charge Simon. Soon after the police left, Eddie called me claiming to not know anything about it, yet when I told him that I would press charges, he stated that he had already been told that I went over there, ripped my shirt off myself and attacked Simon, and they have witnesses. That was what I was waiting to hear, that it had been Eddie who probably called some cop buddies to check on me and clean up what Simon had done. The cops were just some tools Eddie was using to try and intimidate me. Once again lies take center stage and the truth gets buried. Eddie told me to be patient and we would work it all out later and I would get paid. He never returned the last call and I have not spoken to him since. All I could do was sit back and let each person play their hand out.
I know. What happened about the domestic violence charge? Sheri knew that she was wrong in calling the police, that her fear and the drugs made her desperate. She called the prosecutor every day trying to get the charge dropped. I was in Eddie's office when he called and spoke to the prosecutor handling the case. He felt it would be a hard case to convict on and decided to drop it. At this time I would like to give that prosecutor a bit of advice. What you thought was a one-on-one with Eddie was on speaker and I heard every word. I believe you owe someone an apology for your comments about them. I know - it's easy to make assumptions about others in your line of work, but what you said was wrong. You apologize and I'll drop it here.
I have tried to stay away from each one of these people, gathering information and now fighting this on paper. But life had even more for me to deal with. There were many other crooks and crooked cops I would have to deal with, and more worthless politicians who showed me how much they don't care. This is their story.
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