Camping, Courtrooms, and the Cost of Bearing Witness: Attending Luigi's Suppression Hearings
Note: This is not meant to be an exhaustive account of courtroom proceedings; it is my own account of attending Luigi's pre-trial suppression hearing on 12/1. 12/4 on will be posted subsequently.
The Line:
Camping from November 29th to December 1st was an experience. I had been prepping for months: getting the perfect tent, making wristbands, and testing my sleeping bag. I spent most of Thanksgiving beading bracelets to give to other supporters as gifts on the line. On Saturday, I finally checked into the hotel that my friends and I had booked for just a couple nights. We decided that with the magnitude of stuff we had brought, it was the best way (for now, at least.) Ashley and Lena met me at the hotel, and we started to fill up the tote bags that Humanity Unmuted had made with the goodies, snacks, and supplies provided to us by Luigi’s Bookshop and Stats4Lulu. We also had printouts from The Plot and Death Penalty Action. Other generous supporters who preferred to remain unnamed donated goods or funds for supplies, which was really heartwarming and allowed us to make substantial care packages for everyone. Our ability to support Luigi in person could simply not have been done without the online community rallying behind us.


We hadn’t actually planned to start lining up until Sunday morning, but just for good measure, we booked a hotel close enough that we could run over to check on the line every few hours. We checked 100 Centre Street at 6:30PM and no one was there. So, we went to have dinner and chill at our hotel. Suddenly, at 9PM, a friend called frantically to say that 16 people were already there when she had just shown up. We dropped everything, ran over, and immediately set up our tents. I was number 18, only 6 numbers away from not making it inside. It suddenly dawned on me that I’d be staying out on the line even longer than I had in September, and that we were also expecting heavy rain and wind. Luckily, I felt pretty prepared.
The waiting went by abnormally fast—not because it was easy, but because we were in survival mode. Unlike September, when the weather was nice enough to converse or go for walks, most of us stayed inside of our tents to conserve heat this time. I rarely went back to our hotel, only to shower several times, or when I was feeling so cold that I needed a short break. I barely ate, feeling extremely nauseous every time I even thought about it. Nuts were the only thing I could stomach, and I drank copious amounts of coffee. The anxiety was too much. I always get preemptively nervous for the morning of the hearing, since the media is overwhelming and people often try to cut the line. Dealing with all of that chaos on no sleep can be extremely stressful.
When it started to rain on Sunday morning, the condensation on the top of our tent started to collect and drip back onto us and the layers of blankets we had stacked under us to shield us from the cold concrete. Everything was soggy and cold. The small portable heater I had brought helped immensely—at least to help keep us semi-dry. You could see the steam coming off of my wet socks as soon as I placed my foot nearby. I don’t know how anyone did the wait without a heater. I brought extra gas tanks with me so I could let other people take turns in front of it, but that only provided momentary relief. You’d have to sit in front of it 24/7 to really feel okay.
At midnight, I woke up suddenly. I was alone in the tent, and soaked. While Ashley and Lena were getting ready in the hotel, I was napping. My heater had just used up the last of the propane, and my wet socks were freezing my toes so badly that they were numb. I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t, and instead laid there rocking myself for warmth for what I believe was a few hours until they got back.
I took an Uber to the hotel because I did not feel up to the ten minute walk. When I got to the room, I immediately stepped into the hot shower, becoming human again. I got ready in complete silence and put on my crewneck I had custom made to send a message to the public, since I knew the media was likely going to plaster it all over like last time. May as well use their inevitable coverage to my advantage, right? Once I got back to the line, we napped a bit more. I started to feel really dizzy and like I was going to vomit. And I did—three times—between helping people put away their tents and packing up our stuff. Who knew that no sleep, little food, lots of coffee, lots of stress, lots of cold, and taking pain killers on an empty stomach would aggravate my acid reflux issues? I felt fine immediately after, though. That’s how my acid reflux issues have always been: the spell eventually passes. I quickly washed up and came back to speak to the media.

I think I spoke to every outlet that there is, whether we are from the same political faction or not. I want to reach as many people as possible when it comes to Luigi’s case. You never know who will be on the jury. Thankfully, I wasn’t as swarmed as I had been in September, because many other supporters spoke up this time around too. I really loved that many of our diverse perspectives were represented this time around, and I implore more people to keep coming forward to share their stories and thoughts. (I would not recommend this to just anyone. Be warned: these are experts at trying to trip you up for clicks. If you are a beginner, make sure you practice your talking points, stay focused, and don’t let them sidetrack you! And know that even if you think you’re good with the media, they will still do everything they can to sensationalize the story. See below. I get a kick out of it, though. You have to have a sense of humor about it.)

Suddenly, the officers announced we’d be entering, and they passed us our cards. Once inside, there is a certain feeling of relief that washes over you. It could honestly just be the warmth from the heater. We headed up to the 13th floor and I noticed there were a lot of members of the media in the hallway barricades, waiting to photograph us and the team. At this point, we didn’t know Luigi wouldn’t be walking the hallway and I guess the media also did not, because they seemed prepared to photograph him. I was really happy to see that this time a lot more supporters wore statement shirts (or green), had their faces uncovered, and were excited to walk proudly past the cameras. I felt a noticeable shift in how proud people seemed to be there to show their support for Luigi publicly.
Inside the Courtroom:
For brevity, and because many have already done in depth accounts, I will only share what was glaring to me about the 12/1 proceedings.
After the defense, prosecution, and the judge walk in, Luigi appears in a grey suit from a side door. It took a long time for him to appear. He is shackled in the back until he arrives at the defense table, where the officers unshackle him and he sits down. He has folders (with many stacks of documents he consults) and binders in front of him, as well as a yellow pad to take notes and blue sticky notes to pass to his team. He takes avid notes, hunching considerably toward the table when he is doing so. He never yawns or looks bored like the judge often does. He is very engaged.
Court pauses for a quick, yet slightly awkward photoshoot at the start with all the Getty photographers shooting directly in front of Luigi and the defense teams’ face. They exit the courtroom after a couple of minutes.
A new angle of the shooting footage is played. The DA shows exhibits which are examples of what was disseminated to the media about the case, including the smiling Starbucks CCTV image of the suspect.
We are played overhead blurry CCTV of Luigi allegedly attempting to order at a McDonald’s kiosk on December 9th, moments before his arrest. When he realizes it doesn’t take cash, he goes up to the register instead and seems to talk to the cashier for a while. Once he receives his order, he sits in the back dining area, near the restrooms. He plops his backpack on the floor next to him.
We hear the 911 call.
This was not particularly striking to me. Neither the dispatcher nor the caller sound in distress about the situation and seem to be joking about his eyebrows.
Side note: Luigi looked back at us supporters quite a lot at this time. He seemed to be taking us in and really analyzing us. He was serious, and almost unblinking. For a moment, he stared so intensely that I felt he was trying to communicate to us telepathically or something. I doubted my eyes, but many others later confirmed the moment (court sketch artists, journalists, other supporters). I am still wondering what was going through his mind at this time, but it was incredibly sobering. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at supporters more than this day, even in the days following.
A call for service report is displayed on screen which shows the dispatchers marked the call as “low priority.”
The first 3 witnesses go by in a flash. The last two were much more in depth and compelling.
Testimony from Rivers
Rivers began by talking about why Luigi was brought to SCI Huntingdon, and stating that they transferred him there for the time being because it is a level 4 security facility.
Rivers states that Luigi was housed in D block which also meant he was on constant watch.
Rivers testifies that he was instructed to take notes on Luigi’s movements 7x (?) an hour because SCI Huntingdon reportedly didn’t want an “Epstein style situation.”
Since Luigi was not allowed kiosk access, which would be the standard way of receiving mail or email, Rivers claimed that he would bring all of Luigi’s correspondence to him already printed out.
Luigi had no access to television, news, visitors, or to calling services during his time at SCI Huntingdon. Rivers testified that Luigi was only provided books for entertainment.
Luigi was housed in a 8x12 cell with a concrete bed, desk, chair, toilet, and a very thin “mattress.”
The assigned monitor, or Rivers, was always positioned 2 feet opposite the cell which has clear plexiglass walls.
When Rivers testified that he had never restricted Luigi in his cell and had provided him with toiletries, Luigi reacted with a bewildered facial expression and seemed irritated by Rivers’ statements. He usually makes a lot of facial expressions, but these seemed to say “that’s ridiculous.”
Rivers further goes on to claim Luigi was allowed one shower everyday or every two days. In order for him to shower, he had to be cuffed and brought to the shower area while the monitor waited for him outside to take him right back to his plexiglass cell.
Rivers alleges that during his time surveilling Luigi, they spoke pleasantly and at length about things like travelling, global healthcare systems and differing levels of happiness, and even about the perception of Luigi and his case on social media.
He claims Luigi was disappointed that he was being compared to Ted Kaczynski.
He claims Luigi wanted to make and issue a public statement.
He claims that on 12/17/24 they had another conversation about literature and Luigi allegedly recommended him to read The Doors of Perception by Huxley. He claims they spoke about obesity, as well. All in all, he says that Luigi had a “concise and logical way of speaking.”
Rivers is asked about the constant observation forms which had to be filled out during surveillance. While these forms always seemed to contain thorough notes about what Luigi was doing (“writing, laying on bunk”), strangely none ever seemed to contain notes about any conversations being had.
Testimony from Henry
When asked by the DA how he felt, he responded that he felt “agitated” to be testifying in court. He seemed very ticked off the whole time.
Henry claims to have had a one-sided conversation in which Luigi began “blurting out” information to him about having a backpack with foreign currency and a 3D printed gun. Henry alleges that he never responded to Luigi or engaged with him in any way to prompt this interaction. This goes directly against Rivers’ own testimony about Luigi speaking in a “concise and logical way.”
In the cross, the defense seems to be arguing, again, that with such thorough note taking (ex: 12/12 - “laying on bunk; laying on bunk reading; standing at door; attorney visit,”) it is odd no note was made of Luigi’s statements or that he blurted things out. It seems convenient that the only record of any of these statements Luigi allegedly made were only through Rivers and Henrys’ own testimony.
After Court:
I felt exhausted when we got out. I decided not to go back to the courthouse on December 2nd since I knew I wanted to go for sure on December 4th (and potentially beyond.) Judge Carro always has his calendar days on Wednesday, which means I could have a good two days off. I needed rest, relaxation, and to eat something nutritious. It was sleeting anyway, and my body was making the decision whether my mind was ready to accept it or not. After checking out of our hotel, I headed to my best friends’ house in Brooklyn. I slept the whole day away on her couch, ordered the most indulgent bowl of udon from Raku, and finally, it felt like my life force was restored.
However, I did feel immense FOMO at not being there for the day’s proceedings—they had played the BWC footage for the first time and I had missed it. Little did I know I’d be seeing it from every angle possible in the coming days. Still can’t get “four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree~” out of my head.
I also felt guilty for missing the line that night because I heard from my friends who were there that all hell was breaking loose. The line sitters were fighting with each other and it was getting physical. A random passerby was threatening some of my friends’ safety by following them to bathrooms and stealing stuff from their tents. Mind you, all of this is happening in freezing temperatures. I was so grateful not to be there because I desperately needed that time to recuperate but I also felt like if I had been there, I could have helped to quell the conflicts. Maybe not, but that’s just what my inner voice was telling me anyway.
Due to my poor condition, I ended up deciding to pay a line sitter for the first time ever. He was one that I had become friends with: Kevin. He had been doing this for a long time, and even had sat for some other pretty high profile cases. He was a nice person and made for great conversation both in September and now. He knew the ins and outs, always gave us great advice, and even stood up for us in scary situations. I knew he was currently unhoused, and so I thought that hiring him to save my spot while I wasn’t feeling physically well to do it myself was a win-win for the both of us. Thankfully, he also cut me a great deal. I helped a couple other people (including members of the press who had yet to receive their press passes) secure line sitters and went to bed for my (on average) three or four hours, which would become more of a daily routine in the passing weeks than I even realized at the time.
It’s always hard to sleep after, even if you’re tired. My mind was racing: I was excited to be reunited with my friends in the morning, who told me they missed me on the line that day. I really wanted to make sure I didn’t miss one singular detail. I wanted to observe every shift in the room, see every expression, and feel the energy. The way I feel most confident speaking about Luigi’s case is by being in that room, bearing firsthand witness to the injustices he experienced during the investigation.
Most of all, I was really preoccupied with making sure that everyone, not just Luigi, sees that the support is here to stay. Seeing the shift in his demeanor towards us and eagerness to view us made me realize that the consistent support was making a huge difference. Just as I started to recognize the members of the press, I’m sure he started to realize who we were, and that we kept coming back with our notebooks in hand. And conversely, seeing the news coverage about Luigi’s consistent supporters made me realize just how much the press were watching and tracking us, day after day. I felt just how important it was for me to show up. I felt eager to be back in that room as soon as possible.
The support is not dwindling. We are up against freezing weather, threats, and unpredictable outcomes. Not everyone can—or wants to—deal with that. (And if you are, I implore you to attend. Most days, we weren’t even at capacity for the line.) Outside of the supporter group, I observed people I would have never expected to speak positively about the case saying they thought he might actually go free, and talking about how the officers messed up with the investigation. While the online trollers always seem to be in absolute turmoil and many supporters unfortunately get sucked into that trap, when you put your phone down, get out there, and talk to the normies, they seem to be more tuned-in and in support than ever. Public perception is pivotal in a case like Luigi’s where jury nullification might come into play, and so I’m so proud of all the supporters who put themselves out there positively—with shirts, keychains, videos, social media accounts, interviews—whatever it may be. Every little act of support makes a difference. There’s room for all of us to make a difference in our own unique ways, and we should always encourage that in one another. The more vocal, visible, and palpable support we can amass, the better. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.
(To be continued.)





Thank you for sharing your experience with us
Very lovely and beautiful documented experience of what it was like during that time!💕🙏🏼