“My Faith in Jesus Christ Is Stronger Than It’s Ever Been – They Have Not Broken Me” – Orphan, Trafficking Victim, and J6 Political Prisoner Isaac Thomas Sends Letter to The Gateway Pundit from DC Gulag

Isaac Thomas was orphaned at the age of 6 and endured years of abuse and neglect as a child— trafficked through various placements while in the custody of the Department of Health and Human Services. 

Thomas emancipated himself at 16 and got involved in political activism.

He was inspired to speak out for other victims of the failed foster care system and went to the United States Capitol with thousands of other Americans to peacefully protest and make their muffled voices heard.

Isaac was only 18 years old when he attended the January 6 protests.

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Isaac Thomas via Condemned USA
Isaac Thomas was the voice for the voiceless on January 6

Following January 6, Isaac found himself in the crosshairs of Antifa Terrorists hell-bent on causing him pain.

He was bombarded with death threats at work- a storm at which, his employer first tried to weather with him, but the pressure soon became too much to bear, and Isaac was fired from his job through no fault of his own.

Following his financial struggles, Isaac fell behind on bills, car insurance payments, rent – his former life was reduced to abject poverty, and he took local small gigs and odd jobs to make ends meet.

He was later hit by a drunk driver, and his car was totaled, stranding him once more financially.

He had to get out, and fast- to somewhere that he could stay in compliance with his bond requirements and try to get his life back together.

Patriots stepped up and a new home, and available transportation were secured for him, but moving states would severely complicate his relationship with the courts.

Rushed and out of time, Isaac had no choice but to pack his things and head for the new home. He would have been homeless back home and wouldn’t have been able to comply with any requirements of the courts, due to lack of resources- NOT lack of cooperation.

Isaac now sits in the DC Gulag awaiting trial.

He is still being abused now by his government.

Isaac Thomas told The Gateway Pundit on Saturday night during a phone call from the DC prison, “My faith in Jesus Christ is stronger than ever. They have not broken me.”

Isaac wrote to The Gateway Pundit to share his story and thank our readers.

** Please help Issac Thomas here.

Dear America,

Have you ever had an epiphany? A moment where everything hits you at once and you just sit there wondering how you made it to where you are? How you’ve survived for this long? Well tonight, as I sit here in cell 19 of block C3A in the DC Gulag, I’m wondering the same thing. My name is Isaac Thomas, I’m one of the hundreds of January 6th political prisoners being held hostage by the Biden Regime. Many of you are familiar with my story thanks to the amazing reporting of The Gateway Pundit. Tonight, I’ve been offered the opportunity to share my experiences with you firsthand.

So let’s start from the beginning: When I was born at Hurley hospital in October of 2002, I was born into a family who didn’t have much. Though my mother and father were poor they had hearts of gold. Both young and unequipped, they welcomed me into the world as their firstborn child with open arms. For the first 3 years of my life things were hard but my mother made sure I was fed, clothed and most of all happy. At the age of 3 my dad got involved in a gang that quickly led to a road of drugs, violence and absence. He left my mother and me alone to fend for ourselves only showing up on random occasions to ask for nothing more than money and sex. Not long before my 4th birthday he introduced my mom to the very addictive and lethal drug oxycotin. From that point forward, life was nothing more than a train without breaks. Unfortunately I was the car stuck on the tracks.

The next few years were miserable. My mothers addiction quickly turned into abuse and anger. I went from her only son to an emotional punching bag. We lost our home and went from drug house to drug house… Anywhere that would give us a couch to sleep on. At the age of six, as I was standing in my aunt Kim’s back yard playing with her puppy, I heard my mother scream louder than I had ever heard her scream before. Something was wrong, I ran into the house to see my mother on the floor crying rivers of tears. “It’s not true, its not true she kept repeating. I would soon find out that the man who left us alone so many years ago, my father, had passed away from a heroine overdose. From there, things only got worse. My mother became more angry and addicted to even worse drugs. The abuse progressed into torture and the hope I held onto that things would one day get better, disappeared.

It wasn’t long before Child “Protective” services came along and decided to take their piece of the pie. For the next 10 years I spent my life even more miserable than I was on the ghetto streets of Flint Michigan. 42 placements in total. 19 emergency shelters, 14 money making experimentation camps, 6 foster homes and 3 relative placements. All while under the “care” and custody of the Department of Health and Human Services, or as I like to call them, the Department of Legalized Human Trafficking.

During my time under the establishments care I was raped, beaten, experimented on with Fauci funded pharmaceuticals and even had my arm snapped in half when being held down by 8 grown men at 13 years old. These deep state pedophiles made 400 dollars a day for me as they tortured me. To them, I was nothing more than a barcode and a hefty pay check.

Now, here comes the good part. At the age of 16 I filed a court filing asking to be emancipated from foster care. Emancipation means I would be granted the same rights as an adult but at the age of 16 instead of 18. In order to do this I had to prove I could take care of myself with housing and a job. Thanks to my amazing aunt deb who offered me a place to stay and helped me find a job, the judge granted me my emancipation on July 19th of 2019. I was finally free and for the first time since I was 3 years old, I was happy.

Within the first couple of months I was able to get my own apartment and a contracted job with Comcast. I can’t lie, it was hard being an adult at 16 but I had never been so happy and grateful. One of the happiest moments of my life was getting to see my mother for the first time in years to show her my apartment and how good I was doing. I can never thank God enough for that special moment because soon I would find out the worse news I had ever heard in my life.

It was a quiet afternoon on May 20th, 2020 when I heard a knock on my apartment door. I had never understood that God awful scream I heard from my mother all them years earlier until I opened that door. There was 2 detectives from the Flint township police department taking their hats off to tell me that my mother had overdosed from fentanyl but this time, she didn’t make it through.

At that moment, all of the anger and hatred I had in me against this terrible, corrupt system came wailing out of me like a tornado siren warning everyone of a coming storm. In the months that followed I became very depressed. I was alone and suddenly afraid of a world where everything I loved was taken from me. Yet somehow, in a way that only God can explain, the lord took all of that pain and provided me a purpose. A mission.

A mission to fix the broken system that had taken everything from me and so many others.

I became interested in politics for the first time in my young life. I quickly found refuge in a movement of God loving American Patriots who were just as upset as I was. On October 19th 2020, 2 weeks before the election, I turned 18 years old. On November 3rd 2020, I cast my first ever vote for the best President America HAS, Donald J. Trump. I had done the research, connected the dots and was sure that our President was going to win the 2020 election. I was right. As election night came to a close I stayed glued to the TV excited to see that our president had won again.

I went to sleep and was grateful to have a chance to help these amazing American Patriots finish draining the swamp. I woke the next morning to a disappointment that I would soon realize as the beginning of the end for our great republic. They had stolen the election from our great President.

The next few months seemed like a nightmare stuck on replay that would never end. As the establishment funded propaganda companies waged war on the American people, God was raising an army of brave citizens who would not be silenced. On December 27th 2020 I won a lawsuit against the men who snapped my arm in foster care. The next day me and my girlfriend headed out of state for our first time ever to go watch the ball drop in new York city and to eventually head to the peaceful protest being held Washington DC so we could watch our president speak and pray that our elected officials would do the right thing. As millions of us stood peacefully outside our nations capitol, police and undercover FBI informants attacked us with rubber bullets, pepper spray and smoke grenades. They beat us with batons and killed 4 unarmed, peaceful protestors.

This enraged the crowd and forced many of us to fight for our lives, otherwise they would’ve killed more of us. After an hour of trying to help where I could, me and my girlfriend left the protest and made our way back home to Flint, Michigan.

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About a week later 4 FBI SWAT trucks showed up outside my newly rented trailer. They busted into my home and refused to provide a warrant. They took my phone and told me that if I didn’t tell them what they needed to know then they would do things the hard way. I told them the Truth. Hours later they gave me my phone back and said I wasn’t being charged. I didn’t hear anything else from them for the next year. I decided to get a job at an assisted living home and tried to be at peace.

Then in 2022, I decided to enter the race for county commissioner. Despite being 19 years old and only spending 200 dollars on my campaign, I managed to get 1,034 votes. Not long after that I started receiving calls from friends and family telling me that the FBI had started reaching out to them asking for information on me. I can’t lie, it did scare me but I continued pressing forward with our agenda. Over that past year I had also been filing lawsuits and criminal charges against the people who raped and beat me in those foster placements. I was making waves and exposing all of the money worshipping pedophiles that run our government. On January 20th 2023, I retained a prestigious law firm and filed a class action lawsuit against the foster system. One week later, on January 26th of 2023 I was indicted with 10 federal charges for being at the capitol 2 years earlier. I was released on bond and continued pushing forward for justice for me and the many others hurt by the system.

Sedition Hunters quickly caught on and began harassing the assisted living I worked at as well as the landlord of the trailer park I was living in. It wasn’t long before I lost everything I had worked so hard to achieve. In July the government filed their first motion to revoke my bond for driving my car without insurance. I was forced to come to DC for an in person hearing on July 3rd, the day before independence day. Once I got to the hearing I got lucky when the judge adjourned it to August 18th. This allowed me to finish testifying as one of four victims in a criminal rape trial against a man who hurt me during my time under DHHS care. The man was found GUILTY on all 6 counts. His sentencing is scheduled for October 30th.

In the meantime I was evicted from my home and forced to ask pretrial to allow me to go to Texas to start preparing a trailer that was being offered for me. Once my attorney got it approved I headed down there with nothing more than my puppy and a few pairs of clothes. After I left, pretrial asked my attorney to file a notice to the court telling them about my transfer to Texas. They also requested I get a mental health evaluation for God knows what. I was reluctant but agreed to comply and did just that. However, a couple days before the August 18th hearing pretrial and the government teamed up against me by making a number of false allegations. They said I left to Texas without telling anyone and that I hadn’t gotten any mental health evaluations.

This was despite the fact I had text messages from pretrial and my attorney telling me I could go down there. I also had doctors from both Michigan and Texas confirm that I did do the evaluations. Not one but two, one for each state. Trennis Evans and Condemned USA knew I was telling the truth because they have been advocating for me through all of it. They even talked to pretrial prior to me leaving for Texas and assisted me in getting doctors notes proving I did the evaluations they asked me to do.

Because of this, Trennis filed an affidavit calling out each of the governments lies point by point with exhibits of the text messages and doctors notes proving we were telling the truth.

As a result of this, the establishment funded judge, Colleen Kollar Kotelly, issued a minute order banning me from discussing details of my case with Trennis. The worst is yet to come. At the hearing on the 18th the judge reiterated the false claims the government was making. My attorney should have used Trennis’ motion as a guideline for our argument. Instead he told the judge he wasn’t aware of any of this and needed more time to go over it. The judge was rightfully upset and gave us 10 days to figure it out. She told me that in the meantime I needed to find somewhere else to stay in Michigan because she’s denying my request to move to Texas. She also ordered pretrial to schedule yet another mental health evaluation but with one of their providers.

She ended by telling me that until my next hearing on the 28th, I am ordered to stay in DC with my attorney at his apartment. I kid you not, that’s how crazy these people are.

After 10 days of misery, me and my attorney showed up to my 3rd bond hearing in a month’s time span. The judge made the same accusations again and my attorney got up and asked for another adjournment. The judge wasn’t having it so she looked at me and asked if I had found housing in Michigan yet. I provided her a copy of a lease to a 2 bedroom house I was able to find just 3 days prior thanks to a good patriot friend of mine who is also a realtor in my home town. Pretrial got up and objected saying they had no way to verify the lease was real despite it being signed by me and the landlord. The judge asked why pretrial is objecting and they said it was because I had refused to provide the cell phone number to my new landlord. I told the judge that I didn’t want pretrial trying to scare my landlord but that I was willing to provide them the number right there on the record if that’s what was needed. The judge said it was too late and moved on to ask about the mental health evaluation. Pretrial said they hadn’t set one up because I hadn’t signed a release form.

The judge asked me why, I told her I never received one but had no problem signing it if they would send it to me. Yet again she said it was too late and told my attorney he should’ve been more prepared. Then she entered it into the record that she was revoking my bond without explaining how any of this made me a danger to the community or a flight risk. Instead they put me in handcuffs and hauled me off as I looked at my attorney and the judge in disgust. I gave them a nice smile as the door to the courtroom closed behind me.

So here I am, a month before my 21st birthday sitting in cell 19 of unit C3A. Also known as the American Gulag. They believe they have broken me but I write this letter tonight to let everyone know that my faith in Jesus Christ has never been stronger. He has given me this strength and peace that I cant explain with word’s. I know that it will get better. One day. Until then I ask all of you to trust in the lord and his promises. A storm is brewing. His people will not be shaken. Please do not feel pity for me, instead, rejoice in the fact that the lord has made a warrior out of me. After all, what is a warrior without a battle?

I love you America.

Until we meet again,

Isaac A. Thomas

** Please help Issac Thomas here.

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