Kelly Collins

Kelly Collins Binkowski

I have never known a person so vile as Kelly Collins Binkowski. She is a prosecutor for the Oakland County Prosecutor’s Office. In January 2011, she became the prosecutor in the case against me for stalking Val Gross, then Chief of Police in Pontiac. Collins had several chances to let the charges go. My attorney the late Howard Arnkoff reminded her every time we met that she had no idea where Val Gross was. She would say every pre-trial or bond hearing that she knew where he was and once she said they spoke “all the time”. The truth is far from that. The truth when finally told, 13-months after I went to live at the Oakland County Jail, she hadn’t spoken to him in 11-months. In fact, she had to put what adds up to an "All Points Bulletin" (APB) on him. He got sick, and went to the hospital. As soon as he checked in, she got the call he was there. If he had never went to the hospital, I would have stayed in OCJ for another six months of pre-trial hearings. Just no consideration for humanity or human life and freedom. Jeff Buchmann, the detective that would go on to lie about phone records, hadn’t spoken to him either. Phone records that took my lawyer more than a year to get. Buchmann got them in three days. They showed I hadn't called Chief Gross at all, on his private line! She kept bringing up the idea that I was insane. In this case, I went to the Forensic Center twice. Ms. Collins insists that I am crazy and here’s why.

Kelly Collins, what she likes to call herself, is a White racist. I’m sure that the people in the cities she plans to be a judge in can say the same about themselves. I battled Kelly Collins for three years. I had to battle the deputies in the Oakland County Jail longer. She turned around after I beat her in the Val Gross case and charged me with stalking Steve Wittebort, again. The reason she wanted to convict me of stalking Val Gross. She brought her fellow prosecutor, Denise Brainard in the courtroom one day. Two White women angry, because I openly declared my love for a White man. My History professor told our class that we usually marry people who live in a three mile radius of where we grew up. I think I'm just about right in my declaration. I was awaiting trial on the Gross case. Both women couldn’t believe that I wasn’t going to take a dive. Many people in the system plead to stuff they didn’t do, because they did something, but not what they said they did, and just give up to go home. In neither of my latter cases did I do that. I believe in the Gross case I had seven pre-trial hearings. That's over the 180-day limit, before the Chief judge should ask for the evidence, because it's taking too long. The deputies and the higher ups involved in prostitution did not want me let go. So, my lawyer ignore the 180-day rule and I continued being tortured by the pimps in OCJ.

In 2003, Denise Brainard got a conviction, because I was "green". I had never been in any real trouble. My father had many friends in Pontiac. My father was dead, and all his friends were tied up in the game. I knew too much about too many dirty cops and I refused to play in their game. Using a bi-sexual prosecutor and a prostituting judge, I was convicted. When I violated probation, I was over sentenced and sent to prison. Kelly Collins, a White racist, never thought that I would be any better. Black’s don’t learn from their mistakes. I learned and I beat her badly. So badly, that five months after I beat her, she brought me up on a fake charge, but this time we were back to Steve Wittebort. He lied and his old friend Marogi lied, too. Kelly Collins, a White Supremacist could care less that the two detectives were lying on me. When I took a plea, out of fear of an all-White jury, she threw the book at me.  The jury I had consisted of one Black man. He was the only one that heard the lie. All the others, the White jurors, found me guilty. The Black man was the sole holdout and wouldn’t convict.

I had 17 months served. My PSI statutory limit was 14 months. My lawyer told me that Colleen O’Brien was looking to give me eight years in prison. When O’Brien gave me 18-months to 5-Years my limit was 90-days in jail, with over 35 completed that was 2004. I was punished for being in love with a White man. Wanting him and his children and a live a life less ordinary. The White women of Oakland County wanted me to understand that is not possible, even when he is a liar. Steve Wittebort’s White privilege gave him the right to lie on me. One day when leaving court, Kelly Collins went down with me on the elevator. At her stop a big Black man that I guess she knew got on the elevator. They embraced and she grinned a sneaky grin as he got on and stood next to me. I noticed his eyes. He was a dark-skinned Black man, but he had green eyes. Almost the peridot of Wittebort’s. He gave me a sly smile and I gave him the lip and smacked my mouth hard. Kelly Collins was reminding me of my place. She was introducing me to a Black man, because Steve Wittebort was a White man, I just can’t have. She was on Fox 2 News one night. 

She had kicked two Black kids out the a football game. She was their coach. I guess she wanted a volunteer credit on her list of community activities. A plus on the road to a elected official. They had decided to wear pink socks in observance of Cancer Awareness month. She found that out of order and told them that they couldn’t play. It was two little Black boys that chose to call her a racist. They felt so strongly about her being a racist that two little boys called her one on TV. I am a 49-year old woman that went two rounds with Kelly Collins. I was tortured in jail. Made to live in solitary confinement and made to feel like a criminal, when I had done nothing wrong. Five months later this woman tried to convict me on a lie. She created my blog, almost turned me against the system and against what I know is good and precious in this life. Love. Kelly Collins tried to use the system to destroy my love and she is the worst kind of monster. I am strong and I survived, because survivors survive. If I could, I’d ask you to ask David, but…

Yester Day Nightmare

I went to Walmart yesterday morning and saw a ghost. Stealing Capital of Oakland County. Pam Chambers, ex-Pontiac Police (PPD). She left, before I got home from prison in 2008. She went to Washington D.C. The City of Pontiac sent her there for some Homeland Security training and she got a new job with a local police department. She was still collecting a check from the PPD, and her new job. She hit the ultimate lick, before she lit up D.C. I know she was doing the same kind of stuff down there she did up there. You know drugs and drug dealers? I been tell the law she crooked since McDougal sanctioned her to get me she been trying to get out. Her brother Nate told her that she was dealing with "Crime Lord" Roderick "Boo" Lee, she has been trying to discredit me. Along with a deep seat lust for me on the side. They both needed to neutralize me and secure that they stay "beloved" in the eyes of law enforcement. That means that I have to be "taken care of" or "taken out", and either way, they tried it. 

Even if she helped construct a plan to ruined my life, we have never had harsh words. She always spoke to me with a smile on her face. Her sister, Herlon, is more obvious and if she don't like you, you know it. Pam is not dumb at all, and when I went to her shop, "Not Just Nails" 30 years ago, she was smiling. I was there to tell her that her brother was a dead-beat, but I wasn't going to be the kind of woman to abandon my child. She had been taking care of his first-born. I wanted her to know I'm not the type. Let me tell you that smiling faces lie and she's one of the most corrupt cops this city has ever known. She came into Sears and bought a treadmill from me. Got me about $30 commission. She was a Captain at the time. The man that she brought with her kept calling her that, when she looked over to him and asked, "Should I buy it?" I stood there, because many other crooked cops, prosecutors and county administrators had came in and did the same stit. Some even brought their wives and children.

Her daughter, Carlone, is probably 30-years old this year. I remember her at about six. She and Pam came into Concorde, back when I worked there, and she was well-behaved. She was quiet and didn't touch anything. Pam cam to the counter and spoke to me. We chatted for a while. She was talking to Michelle the towns thief. She sold all the barbers in town their stuff. She ordered from the stuff and passed it out the backdoor. No telling she was giving Pam things out the door, too. She had her nail shop, still and probably used Michelle to keep her nail polish and polish mover stocked. After we chatted Carlone did a curious thing. She broke her mother cheerful and polished banter as she left the store. She took her finger and tapped a bag of Skittles. In that moment, Pam's entire facial expression changed, her mood was a cloud over the entire builder and she reached out and touched Carlone in a mighty way. "I told you not to touch nothing," she warned her child. It was too late, anyway. As she gave the waring she gave the child a quick "pop" on the arm. The child winced, grabbed her arm and continued out the store.

I had seen the same treatment 20-years later. I was at the woman's house that braided my hair. She had a sister and a brother. The sister had two children, one was a very handsome little boy who flinch whenever the woman made a sudden move. One day we were sitting, we were talking and laughing, and the little boy stood watching us. Suddenly, he was hungry and asked for a bowl of cereal. The woman asked my briader if she had some cereal. Of course she had cereal for her nephew. He stood close to his mother, while she opened the box and poured the confections. The without warning, the little boy stuck his hand in the cereal. Again, with a sudden turn of character and personality, she slapped his hand so hard that the cereal spilled on the counter. Some cereal even fell to the floor. She started screaming profanities at the child, "What the f... is wrong with you!?!" He turned and looked me straight in the eye. Kids know, and they were standing around while she talked about me. He wanted to expose his mother as the monster she is. That's what then little Carlone was trying to do. Pam did not curse her child. She did turn into a fierce overseer that had given instruction before entering the store. What she didn't know is her child did not like her and wanted to expose her for the beast she is.

You ever heard of that song, "Smiling Faces, Sometimes"? Kids not only say the darndest things, but they do the darndest things, too. They will expose the true you, especially if they are sad, because of how you make them feel. They are innocent and need love and understanding and when they don't get it will "get" you. Even when they are not trying children expose their parents. A closet homosexual, will have a "Flamer" for a some or a "Butch" for a daughter. They lay out who you can't be to the world, by being who they are in public. You can no longer lie. You can no longer smile yourself away. You have been exposed by someone you have helped make and raise, fed and guided through the life you are trying to manipulate and cheat. But...God. Karma is a B-I-T! It is hard and longsuffering. This woman was a nightmare for me in the middle of the day. Her eyes got wide when she saw me and I had no effect. I had just met the devil in the aisle and didn't flinch. I have already won. There was no need to fear.

Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well: the devils also believe, and tremble.

James 2:19

My SUV...

Lately, I've walked out of a store and there is a car following me. A car or SUV, newer model with tinted window. I have tinted windows. My car has been the target of these police fags from the beginning. I can recall a time that I bought a brand new Escort, and moved. There was no reason for my car to be repossessed. I had paid my car payment and was up-to-date. I had moved out of my mother's house and into my own apartment. I had not informed Ford Motor credit. Since my payment wasn't behind, I said that I would get to it later. This was 1995, and I had a job working at Sears. After a few years, they claim that Ford had targeted Blacks in the area. It had something to do with Mel Farr. Who had mysteriously disappeared; God rest his soul. I don't believe that. I left that apartment. I started work at HQ (Home Quarters) out at Miracle Mile. My brother bought me a new, used car after about six months. He couldn't take the grind of taking my mother to work. That allowed me to leave the crummy job at the pharmacy and liquor store, Concorde. I then went to work at HQ, because they paid me two whole dollars more. That's where I ran into the police thieves. They are a gang of thieves I told you about. At HQ in 1996, they were stealing play sets, with slides, kitchen cabinets and sheds. Huge piles of wood would be delivered for the playground sets and I was now lead at the counter where these transactions took place. I was expected to give all this stuff away for a price. I refused...

The first thing that happened is Rasheed had his little boys on a bike steal out my car. The same way they stole out of the customers cars, when Rasheed walked passed them in the parking lot and saw valuables. I have spoken about this before. People would come back in the store distraught, because they had cell phones, a big deal back then, cameras and CD's stolen out of their front seats. They were all going to the spot Up North and selling stuff from that store, too. Stacey B. Her father was a man big in the game. She came in from Michigan State every Friday, twirling her "Lead" keys on her finger, stealing all the home for her Daddy. She's a nurse now, but I know she's still part of the game. The second thing they did was to put something in my gas tank that made my car stop when I got to a certain speed. I saw something like it on "Law & Order: Criminal Intent". Some guys didn't like a woman at their job at the airport and they put a ping-pong ball in her gas tank. When she started driving about  50 MPH, the ball would cover the hole where the gas feeds the car at the bottom of the tank. It's genius actually, but I caused a five car pile-up on Telegraph and some old lady bumped her head. Elbert Hatchett drove by me, he knew both my father and my uncle. My uncle was a lawyer, too. "Hey Miss Stanley." He didn't know me by name persay, but he knew who my father and uncle were. "Hi, Mr. Hatchett! My car keeps stopping on me!" I was distraught, because I had seen the woman grab her head in the car right behind me.

"Well, don't worry about it. It's not your fault and there is nothing the police can do to you. That was out of your control, your car just stopped. Go park over there." He pointed at the motorcycle store. "Wait for the police to come and tell him exactly what you told me. He'll let you go, because you had no control of what your car did." He had an appointment and wanted to check on me. He was off just as quick as I could say thank you. I did what he told me and the cop came and let me go. I got to work late and everyone acted as if they had seen a ghost. I had survived that one, but wouldn't survive the next one. I was traveling on Telegraph and had forgotten something at home. Since the guy I was dating lived just off Telegraph, I went back by going down his street to see if he was home. He didn't answer my page and he didn't have to be to work, until 10 a.m. It was 7:45 a.m. I would catch him. He was there getting stuff out his car with his friend. He looked at me and begged me not to stop. I didn't and moved on. As I was getting ready to turn left, and go back North to my apartment the road was clear. As I moved out into the street, this black Mustang hit me. I was in the left hand turning lane when I was hit. They claimed that anyone that makes a left into oncoming traffic is responsible for an accident.

To this day I feel it is a judgement call. I had made it into the left hand turning lane. I had cleared the three lanes going South. This man swerved into the left-hand turning lane and hit me! The woman for my insurance company told me that he had a right to swerve to avoid me. I asked her, "Why was he swerving? I had cleared all three lanes!" She simply said, "That's the law, ma'am" . So, they have expert car drivers who can fake accidents to their advantage and police that come to the scene to solidify the lies. They even have witnesses, people that get out their car, and swear it was your fault. The man, the expert at car accidents was obviously good at lawsuits, too. He sued the insurance company for 10 G's. I declared bankruptcy in 2000 behind a garnishment for his fake wrist injury. I didn't even get a ticket and the cop that showed up on the scene took me home. It was like it was over, but he had totalled my car. I had no way to work. For about a week I got rides from a friend. He married now, and I can't say his name. That was so long ago. Then one of my co-workers came to work and told me about a car dealership on Baldwin that would sell me a car. I was only a year from the Escort repo. They allowed me to get one and I paid little or nothing. I wished I had found them a year and a half ago.

I left HQ, because it was stressful and they just wanted to steal. One of the managers just left Costco, after 22 years. He was running the store as Manager. I heard about a woman that stole $3000 in one day to get her husband out of jail. So, Costco is no different than that HQ. If Patrick was running it, I know their shrink was ridiculous and they had their nerve to fire my nephew for being late. When I left I went to work for temp services to pay my rent every month. My landlord, the ultimate crackhead, used our money to get high. He used his pilot salary to pay his mortgage and two car payments.  He wanted a fresh start, and was moving and sold his apartments. This guy Brian then bought them and went up on the rent. He worked for The County, and probably used the prostitutes there. He kept coming in my apartment when I wasn't there and asking me to help him clean and paint. I had a job, and I wasn't interested in spending time with him. I moved on Oakhill. I was working for Girl Scouts and the leader, Adrian, was working with the crooked police. Lenelle Benton lived on the street with her husband and 13 or 14 kids. They were police informants I'm thinking, because her kids would sit on an old shed and throw rocks at my car. They were trying to break out my windshield.

My boss didn't like the idea that I was coming to work everyday, even though she gave me $1500 to hold of cookie money. She thought I would be too busy getting high. I don't get high, so she had a problem. The crooked police enlisted three of Lenelle's bad ass kids to bust the windows out in my car. I'll put the link below so you can read that story. All of a sudden, my gaskets blew, but I had a warranty. The shop I took it to kept it for six months. I went to my brother and he bought a new car and gave me his Cutlass. He said it was "Hot". That car was burning up and by the time it was over I was out $3,000 and a jail stay, before jail stays were what I do! I'll put that link below, too. The rock throwing stopped when I got my brother's car back there. He was the only person the judge had ever seen on a 30-year case and had never even had a parking ticket. He was to be left alone. But the Prosecutor found a old case from me. I walked out my house without my purse and they got their chance. I was headed back from my mother's picking up something, I can't remember. A Pontiac cab hit me going West on Whittemore and Paddock. I didn't have an ID, because I didn't have a purse. They ran my name and I had a warrant. Surprise...Surprise...Suprise. I went to jail.

My car wasn't totalled this time. I went to a friend. The same friend who I was supposed to do an in-school project for Girl Scouts in his school. I was sitting outside waiting on a ride, when I was supposed to be in a school singing songs and watching "Matilda". The Principal gave me the money to get my car out of impound and I never did get the chance to sue the Pontiac Cab for running the stop sign. My car blew another something when I got it out the shop and I went back and got the Cutlass, still hot, and still on fire. Racked up more tickets and finally got my light blue Taurus. My cars tires are always shot. They punch holes in them, give them slow leaks and I am always fixing them. Now, however, I don't even get a chance to use fix-a-flat. They pack the spout with crazy glue and I can't get fix-a-flat into them. My hoses get holes in them. Always the same thing with each car. They didn't something new with the wires and put something on them that the squirrels eat them up. I young man with collision experience caused me to hit him in Royal Oak. He then he told me that if I gave him $250 he would forget about it. Coincidently his father owns a collision shop and he could fix it. It was a scam to me, obviously set-up by the police. I didn't pay him a dime and he went away. When I bought my SUV that never had a scratch, was hit in the same place my other car, the car where the young man hit me, was hit on. The crooked police felt that I needed to carry that accident on my new car.

I have tinted windows. They came with my car. I didn't think we could have tinted windows in Michigan and maybe my car came from somewhere else. Vice in the city have tinted windows. The men that are supposed to deal with drugs, prostitution and stealing in the city. The tint their windows so people can't see them. See them in the car with a prostitute or someone they don't want you to see them with. Yesterday, they tried to knock the side-view mirror off my care with cones on State Street. My side-view mirrors collapse, and all it did was close it. They already broke my hood latch. Took the bulb out the back of my hatchback, in order for it not to glow on the person they have going through my car. I told you about the tires on every single car I have owned since 1995. My hose also has a hole it it; on this car. None of their tricks are new. They smashed the side-view mirror on my last car. They are full of tricks and mainly get them from the people they arrest, who they make their friends and learn their tricks from. My car has a fob that is supposed to keep people out. I watched on the news about thieves that can duplicate fobs and steal cars like mine, equipped with an alarm. That's who go into my car and steal my money out my compartments and water out my stash. Criminals, better yet, "Confidential Informants". The same ones that are dying of the Coronavirus. Yep, the same ones...

Girl Scouts

The Bloomfields Police