The Gateway Pundit wrote about Tom Smith back in April. Tommie was camping in a park during his show trial in Washington DC because he could not afford an attorney.
Tommie was recently sentenced to 9 years in federal prison for defending himself and others on January 6 from violent police officers who attacked the Trump crowd without warning.
Tommy Smith went to Washington D.C. on January 6th to stand with his fellow Americans to hear President Trump speak.
On May 5th, Smith was sentenced to 108 months in prison and 36 months of supervised release. Immediately after his trial, Smith was remanded into the custody of the DC CTF and thrown into the J6 Patriot Pod. He did not get to say goodbye to his children or his parents. They would now be almost 1500 miles away from him, and both of his disabled parents would be without his help and support.
His mother suffered from back and heart problems and COPD and was recently diagnosed with sclerosis. Smith built an elevator in his parent’s home two years ago to help his mom. He finished it just in time to also help his father, who ended up losing both of his legs.
Sadly, While Tommy has been a political prisoner, his gravely ill mother passed away without being able to see or hold her son again.
Being unable to earn a living and having a disabled father, the Smith family is struggling. He was not even given bond to go to the funeral and say goodbye.
In a letter to The Gateway Pundit, Tommy describes the harrowing moments J6ers faced the violence perpetrated against them by Capitol Police. He describes how he was beaten by police while trying to help one of their own injured officers.
Read his harrowing letter below.
To whom it may concern:
This is the story of Me… Thomas “Tommy” Smith. Before beginning, I want to disclose that I am a sinner. I am trying to be a better man. I thank God for every day that He gives me to try to improve and be a better Christian for Him, myself, and my children.
This is not a life story but a story of who I am and how I became a J6er. I am a pretty simple guy, a born-again Christian, a father, a son, and a brother. I am currently 45 years old with four great kids. I say four because a few years ago, I took in my son’s best friend and raised him as my own. My son Scott is 19, my oldest daughter Sophia is 16, and my baby girl is 5. I miss more than mortal words can express.
I am the son of disabled parents. My dad lost both legs in 2021, and my stepmom has COPD and sclerosis, so I spent a lot of time helping them. Before Jan 6, I was a small business owner. I own and operate heavy equipment. My jobs generally consist of clearing land for new homeowners, building new house pads, road/driveway constructions, and pond building/maintenance. I also love music! I play the guitar and drums with the goal of becoming good enough that I can play along with the band for my church. They minister and play for rehabs and other facilities within my area. Another goal that is now a distant dream. I have always tried to be a good, helpful person. I am the guy who stops for random stranded motorists.
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
I’m the guy that does free driveway and repairs for the ones that are unable to pay for it themselves, I would also like to say I am the person that would give the shirt off my back to help and look for nothing in return. This is also how I have raised my children. I believe in standing up for what is right.
Now, onto the J6 stuff. I am currently in the Washington DC Jail, better known as the DC Gulag. I was charged with several felonies stemming from my being at the capitol, including assault of a police officer (x3), civil disorder (x2), and several other charges, including the famous 1512…obstruction of an official proceeding. My case was heard by a biased jury and overseen by Judge Reggie Walton, who I also find biased. Not to mention the weaponized DOJ and the FBI Agency. This was April of 2023. I was sentenced in October 2023 to 9 years in prison, three years probation, 200 hours of community service, and $38,000 in fines and restitution; It seems like a lot, right?!?
Now add in the fact that I caused no injuries or damaged/destroyed anyone or anything in the crimes that I was convicted of. You may even be thinking that I would have had to do something to bring this onto myself. You are right…so here’s my truth!
I am a Trump supporter. Not a lunatic, just a supporter. I also believe there were a lot of discrepancies in the 2020 election. After the election, I decided to attend the “Stop the Steal” rally that I had been hearing so much about. I decided on this for several reasons.
First and foremost, I wanted to support the greatest President of my lifetime, maybe even the greatest in history. I thought this would potentially be the last time I could see and hear him speak as president. It was going to be historic—the largest gathering of Americans in support of one man.
In November, I started planning the trip. It was going to be tricky financially as Covid hit us hard. Money was tight so I began looking for family or friends that wanted to go and split expenses, but it was rough on everyone with the pandemic and Christmas being right around the corner. I did not give up, though! I was able to find two others that wanted to join me. One was broke (and I do mean really broke) and the other was not much better off. I cleaned out my change jar and my bank account to make it happen. We couldn’t afford a hotel or dining out, so we hooked up to my 12-foot enclosed work trailer, grabbed a heater, generator, ice chest, and some blankets, and headed for DC. We stopped along the way for bologna, bread, and snacks to get there and back home. Not a luxurious trip to say the least.
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
We arrived in Virginia late on the 5th with no idea or plan on where to stay, but we ended up near a place close to the city to park and sleep. We then woke up early on the 6th and we were freezing as our generator had run out of gas sometime during the night. Once we had our minds together, we noticed that we were within walking distance of the ellipse, so we packed up and headed to the rally. It was awesome! It was a little cold that day, super packed with people, but still awesome, nonetheless. We stayed for the entire rally. As POTUS finished his speech people then began to make their way towards the Capital. We found a spot out of the way and waited until the crowd had thinned before heading in that direction. I had never felt that kind of love in the air before. Mortal words do fall short of describing the feeling. It was almost like a huge parade that ended at the most patriotic festival ever! Some people were playing music while some were praying. I even saw people giving their own speeches on the sidewalks. There were also patriotic chants and people with bullhorns. These people consisted of all races and walks of life. It was truly America in all her splendor. There was no violence! It was just people standing together, united for a cause. To cheer Congress on in doing the job they were elected to do. To do the will of the people that elected them and make sure all laws were being followed to guarantee a fair and honest election.
As I approached the Capital from the West side, the area was covered with people! Along with the American Flag, I was also carrying the original 1883 Mississippi Flag. My reason for carrying that flag was simple…the flag was a hot topic in my state. During the 2019 governor debate, Tate Reeves promised to leave the flag decision to the people the same way it was done in 2001 when 84% of Mississippians voted to keep the flag. In case you are not aware, that flag was the last to bear the cross of St. Alexander, AKA- the Confederate battle emblem to some. Some uneducated people see it as a racist symbol, but most here consider it a religious symbol. Nevertheless, the decision was made to retire the flag without a proper vote, and that was my way of continuing my protest against another vote stolen from us.
Once on the Capitol grounds, we decided to go to the top of the steps with thousands of other patriots. We climbed through the scaffolding to bypass the protestors seeking shelter from the wind and finally made it up the steps to the inaugural stage. While looking for a way to the upper level (upper west terrace), I saw people going in and out of the archway that I believed would get us to the upper level. I started hearing screams for help! I couldn’t see much as it was packed full of people, but the screams continued. Upon entering (what I now know as the infamous west tunnel, AKA the tunnel of death), I saw people, and they were screaming, “They dragged him inside,” and “We have got to get him out of there.” Some were still saying they didn’t think they were responsive. I still was not sure what was going on and I was being pushed further into the breezeway.
As I got closer to the sets of doors, I saw other protesters kicking and punching a window beside the door. Then, I observed why they were kicking and punching. There were protesters trapped on the other side. They were crouched down with their hands over their heads. They were unresponsive to the pleas of others to stand up and get out. In a panic, I struck the window a few times (with no intention of breaking it) with the flagpole. The first few were loud but had no effect, so I hit it again, and finally, the people stood up and started moving. IT WORKED!! I could feel the crowd pushing me further into the tunnel. By this time, I could feel my eyes starting to burn, and I could taste and smell pepper spray, and as I looked further into the tunnel, I could see police blocking the doorway and arguing with the protestors. They were not fighting with…just arguing. I immediately turned around and exited the tunnel. I was in the tunnel for a total of 3 minutes and never damaged for assaulting anyone (including the police).
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
After leaving the area, we made our way up the final steps to the Upper West Terrace where we were immediately met by a group of police officers. The very first questions I asked were “Is it ok for us to be up here” and “are we safe?” An officer by the name of Anthony Roley replied: “Yes, you can stay up here as long as you are peaceful.” He also testified to this during my trial. We thanked him and the other officers and offered them water, which they declined. We stayed in this area for a few more minutes, taking pictures. That is until I dropped my phone, which resulted in the screen breaking. After this, we made our way over to the Senate side, where we sat on some steps to get out of the wind and take a break. During this break, we had snacks and drinks. We noticed an open door and a broken window, but we did not approach either. We eventually came back to the area overlooking the West Side…. the view of the people was amazing. At this point, we had heard of the shooting of Ashli Babbitt. There was also a woman doing interviews and showing videos of 2 other men believed to have been killed by police officers that had been throwing percussion and flashbang grenades into the crowd. I later found out their names were Benjamin Phillips and Kevin Greason. There were people being shot in the face with rubber bullets and elderly men and women beaten and bloodied. I could not believe what I was seeing. I kept asking where these situations occurred because I had witnessed no violence. We soon found out it happened prior to our arrival at the capital. My thoughts then became, “Why didn’t the cops ask us to leave?” At this point I knew it was time to exit the grounds.
We started down the way we came up, but more police had arrived and had formed two lines. One where we were and one on the next level, which was about 4 feet higher than us. As the crowd started moving in the direction the police were pushing, we saw the crows on the level above us start screaming and running. Some were tripping over the raised flower beds, causing them to fall and, in some cases, get trampled on by other protestors and police. I immediately ran up the 5 or 6 steps to help get people up, but most had already been aided but I did see one person on the ground along the police line. I approached and pointed at a young black man in a green military style jacket and asked if I could help him up. I reached in and grabbed him by his jacket as the police line pushed into me. I refused to leave what I thought was an injured man on the ground to get trampled on. Still hanging onto his jacket, I turned my back to them as I was struck several times from behind. A frantic lady ran up, screaming for me to give her my flags to free my other hand and telling me to just help the man on the ground. As I turned to grab him better, I lost my grip on his jacket. I then immediately covered my head as I was still being hit as I attempted to move out of reach.
As I turned back toward the police line, I asked loudly why they were attacking me. I was only trying to help this man to safety. Standing there, staring at the police line (still stunned), I cursed at them. I yelled all sorts of things at them. As one officer was repositioning his helmet and face shield, he was hit in the face by the shield of another officer and I stated, “You deserve that piece of shit” and at the time I meant it. He was one of the officers who was hitting me and the gentleman on the ground. I never saw the injured man even emerge from the ground or police line, and that had bothered me for the longest time. It was not until after my trial and watching TV in the C2B that I saw a commercial for the Prince George County Police, who were in their riot gear. That gear consisted of the exact same green military style jacket of the man I was trying to help…. he himself was an officer of the law. Not that it matters because I would have offered aid regardless. As I stood there confronting the police, other protestors gathered at the police line, pleading with them to stop and let the people leave safely. As they exited the open Capital doors (mentioned earlier) that were behind the police line, there was a small group attempting to escape as police rained down on them with baton strikes to their heads. All this occurred while I stood there with my hands in the air (to show we were not a threat), begging them to stop.
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
The officers on the lower level then began opening fire on us with bean bag rounds, 40mm projectile cannons, rubber bullets, pepper balls, flash/percussion grenades and lots of canisters of pepper spray. I turned to run away but people were already running in all directions. Once again, I saw people tripping over planters while the police continue to strike the downed people. By this time, I saw another officer coming from the steps. In his path was a large man who had encountered the spray and was stumbling. The officer proceeded to strike this man in the stomach. This officer and I made eye contact. The officer then turned/twisted to his right side as if he were going into another striking pose. I then yelled at him “HEY” as loud as I could but that did not stop him, so I reached out and pushed him off balance with my right foot which stopped him from hitting the protester but not enough force to injure the officer.
Then I turned away to leave and another officer sprayed pepper spray in my direction. I turned the protestor (next to me) away from the blast. We took several steps away from the police line when I felt something skim past my arm. Then I saw the black object roll in behind us. It was some sort of projectile grenade. It exploded 2 ft in front of me. It was very loud and very bright. I felt the percussion over my entire body, but I was lucky. I was able to turn my head and raise my hands to block the fragments. I couldn’t see or hear for what seemed like several seconds. As I began to be able to see again, I noticed a man on knees with white powder covering his face. I remember asking him if he was okay but was still having trouble hearing so I could not make out his reply. As I looked at him, I notice blood droplets starting to cover the white powder on his face. I knew then, regardless of his answer, he was hurt. Still disoriented, I aided another protestor in getting him out and to safety. At this point, I find myself in one of the planters, stumbling from the explosion and just trying to get away from that police line. As I was attempting to leave, I noticed another injured person lying on the steps. I then reached down to help him up when I felt something hit me in the back REALLY HARD! I pushed on (with adrenaline in my body) so that I could help get the injured up. Once he was on his feet, we noticed one officer tap the shoulder of another officer and point at me.
Next, the second officer struggled to reload the large orange gun. That’s when I realized the thing that grazed me earlier and what had hit me in the back came from that gun and that officer. I looked down and saw a stick or a broken piece of a flagpole. I did not throw the item until I saw him raise the gun to fire at me AGAIN. (The video in trial shows officer Camanella still firing at me as my back is to him) It is my belief that the officer was retaliating against me for shoving the other officer with the tip of my foot. After this, I made my way off the Capital grounds with no further altercations with officers.
That span of events took around 7 minutes in total.
After locating my other friend, we returned to the truck. We talked to other protestors parked next to or near us. We listened to their stories of the day’s events. By this time, calls were flooding in from family and friends that were concerned. All we could do is repeat what we saw and heard from other sources and the media. I made a lot of mistakes on the night of Jan 6. I did not double-check the text before I sent them out. I did not check to ensure they were even being sent to the correct person. Then again, I could not do much as I had busted the screen of my phone earlier in the day. I had to rely on voice text to get out what I did. Not to mention, the voice text accidentally picked up every conversation going on in the enclosed trailer. I was not aware it had done so until much later. It had recorded so much that I spent a lot of time apologizing for the miscued messages. Even though I did not say some of the things that that were sent in those messages they were used against me in court as if it was truly my words.
The FBI raided my home at 5 am on the morning of October 6, 2021, with 20-30 agents in full SWAT gear with machine guns, flash-bang grenades, drones, and armored vehicles. One armored vehicle was used to push my truck down the road, causing frame and rear and transmission damage, basically totaling the truck. They then dragged me and my 16 (at that time) year old son out of the house into the cold (with nothing more than our underwear on) at gunpoint. They kept us in the freezing temperatures for over an hour before bringing us clothes from inside. Mind you, by this time not one person had told us why they were there.
My home is directly behind an elementary school. Before we knew it, every parent that was now in the carpool lane was watching my son, and me stand in handcuffs. When the FBI noticed the scene that they were causing…it was funny enough for them to laugh at us for it. It was embarrassing for me and my minor child who was innocent in all of this. I was then taken to the federal courthouse over 2 hours away, where I had to spend more time awaiting a magistrate judge who thankfully ordered my release. At this time, I was escorted from the building barefoot, with no wallet and no phone, and was refused to use another phone. Luckily, a stranger passed, and after explaining to them what had occurred, they allowed me to use their phone to call someone to pick me up as I was now stranded at a courthouse over 2 hours from my home.
For the next 18 months, the government pushed my trial back. Covid was rampant and things were constantly postponed. This even occurred once I was sent to DC. We were allowed minimal access to the discovery presented by the prosecution as items were still deemed classified. To this day, the 40k hours of videos have not been fully released for viewing by the public. I was unable to afford a private attorney, so I was provided with a public defender. At the beginning of the first meeting with him, he told me (and I agreed) that we would not get a fair trial in DC and would lose and must appeal. His following statement was that he would gather as much information as possible for the appeal. Another Jan 6 defendant had a study done to prove that no Jan 6er would get a fair trial in DC and because of this most asked for a change in venue…which has been denied in every case. When the government asked for time to go through everything that comes in on “discovery” they were granted the time. When my attorney asked for time, we were given the statement “In the interest of Justice, I will not wait to move forward to trial” by the judge. The only evidence we were allowed to use is what the prosecution gave in discovery.
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
“The Trial:” – Our trial began on April 17th, 2023. First, it was the jury selection. One hundred thirty-five jurors came through the court, with 14 finally selected. Out of the 14, all said they had “negative feelings” towards that day and those people. After being pressured by the judge the jurors decided that they “thought they could put their opinions aside and judge us on the evidence put forth.” That did not happen. Next, jurors were threatened with jail if they had been on the Capitol grounds that day. Yes, that happened. The judge felt that he needed to add, “One of the defendants is seen throughout the day carrying a confederate battle flag. Do you think you could judge a person that would carry that kind of flag fairly?” Let me repeat that. ”A confederate battle flag.” Mind you, I DID NOT take a battle flag of any kind. I carried that MS state flag. With his statements about the flag, I knew he had already made his mind up, and it seemed like he was causing persuasion among the jurors. From there, it went downhill. I was denied every motion sent by my attorney. We even got a reply of, “If I’m wrong, the Appellate court will tell me I am wrong.”
Does this sound like the Justice we seek in America??
During testimony, nearly all witnesses proved everything we stated was true. The videos backed every statement I made. It even showed that I acted in self-defense and defense of others, which was not allowed as a “defense,” per the judge. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea and denied instructions to the jurors. Instead he said “If you don’t find them guilty for this or that, you must consider this….and if you still think they are guilty then you must also consider this…..” This also doesn’t sound like justice. We were not even allowed to use the phrase “we were helping others” or anything that would hint in the aid of another human.
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
I was found guilty on all 12 counts. Including the ones the police testified and proved I was innocent of. On May 5th, I was not allowed to return home to get my affairs in order as I was remanded into custody on the spot. I did not get to say goodbye to my kids or my parents, which does include my dying mother. Here we are in October. I am now living with the 9-year sentence and the thought it may be a long time before I see my kids again. I may not get to see my mother before she passes.
I am one of the longest sentences, yet I caused no harm or injury. Someone that actually broke windows, encouraged others to join in on the fighting with the intent to harm, stayed in the building longer…got less time than I did. Is this because my black judge considered me racist just because of the state flag I carried??? Could it be because I stood up and aided others?? Maybe it is because I would not admit to wanting to harm the police that day?? As I sit here in my 6 X 10 cell, thinking of what Justice is really supposed to be…. I know this cannot be what it looks like.
During my sentencing, I used the killing of George Floyd as an example. I told the judge that I was not condoning or advocating for the attack on police officers but simply asked where the line is drawn? At what point is it okay to defend someone else? If one person had done what I did with as little force possible…. a man would not be dead, five officers would not be in prison, and several cities would not have been destroyed, leading to more deaths. To add insult to injury…. I am now required to pay back the money raised to help my cousin obtain a lawyer. By the time this is all said and done I will be nearly 60 years old, my 2 oldest kids will be grown and my youngest may have no clue who I really am.
Is this Justice? All my statements in this letter are factual and can be fact-checked with court transcripts and videos. My hope is that this letter sheds some light on the misjustice being perpetrated by our legal system and that you take the time to research this so that things can be set right!
God bless you all, and God bless the United States!!
Sincerely, Thomas “Tommy” Smith
AKA #MississippiFlagGuy
**Please help Tommy and his family here.**
The post MUST READ: J6 Political Prisoner Tommy Smith Sentenced to 9 Years in Jail After Police Attacked Him and Fired Projectiles at His Back – Please Help Tommy’s Family This Christmas appeared first on The Gateway Pundit.