He Overcame Drug Addiction and Homelessness – He Attempted to Save Rosanne Boyland on Jan. 6 from Death – Now the Biden Regime Wants Him to Spend Over 10 Years in Prison – Please help Curtis Tate in His Time of Need

Recovered drug addict, counselor, animal lover, and survivor – Curtis Tate attempted to revive Rosanne Boyland on Jan. 6 before she died at the hands of police. Now the government wants to put him away for over a decade.

How do I begin to convey the heartbreak and sadness that occurred on and after January 6, 2021?
Men and women who died that day at the hands of police brutality and chaos, not to forget the lives lost to suicide. Two years later, I almost met the same fate when I put a 9mm round through my chest and survived by the grace, love, and mercy of God.

March 21, 2013 was a pivotal day in my life – the day I decided enough was enough. I was awakened at 5 am to turn in my sheets and blanket, then to get breakfast. This was a normal routine for the homeless shelters I had been living in the past couple years. I was 21 and had progressed into a full-blown heroin addict. I had nothing but the clothes on my back, which I picked up from a clothing donation box. I was unrecognizable. It was freezing in Louisville, Kentucky that morning and as I wandered to a payphone, I realized I had nobody to call. Family and friend had  been finished with me, and I was utterly alone. As I went back inside and laid in the corner among other homeless folks trying to stay warm, I said my first prayer “God, please help me!”

And that’s just what he did. This shelter, unknown to me, is nationally recognized as a free, long-term, and highly successful recovery program! Very challenging, but it showed me how to live a life free from drugs and alcohol,  stand on my own two feet, and hold myself accountable. They taught me how to be a man. Upon completion, I got a great job where I advanced quickly.    I wanted more, though, so I enrolled in college and pursued a nursing degree. My family returned to my life, and we have an amazing relationship that has grown closer through the years. I found my passion for physical fitness and nutrition, and have competed in a number of physique competitions over the recent years. Riding motorcycles and skydiving are top hobbies of mine. Above all, I rescued my #1 best buddy, Mico, my pointer hound. So far we’ve traveled 11 states together.

It wasn’t until election year in 2016 that I found my interest in politics. As the political climate heated, I couldn’t help but notice the media’s constant backlash and insults against Trump forming public opinion. Eventually, I did my own research, and my findings shattered my wall of ignorance! The more I investigated, the more my patriotic pride grew. I was dumbfounded at how misguided so many were right here in their own country! I’ve sadly come to realize this a willful ignorance. I sat out to be the voice of truth against the lies being spoon-fed to the American people. I unapologetically love President Trump and my country. Arriving at the “Stop the Steal” rally on Jan 6, 2021, the overwhelming feeling of camaraderie among hundreds of thousands of fellow patriots was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. We unified that day to urge elected officials to hold off certifying the ballots and investigate key election states.

What started off as a peaceful protest turned to mayhem when purposefully overwhelmed police officers began aggressively assaulting the more vulnerable in the crowd. I cannot at this time put into specifics about that day, but may the lives lost NEVER fade away. Ashli Babbitt who was shot, unarmed, by Officer Michael Byrd. Kevin Greeson, Benjamin Phillips, and Rosanne Boyland who I have a special connection with. Another gentleman and I pulled Ms. Boyland from a police line where she was trampled and then savagely beaten by officers as she laid there helpless. Out of harms way and not having found a pulse, I performed resuscitations for several minutes to no avail. Rosanne Boyland, the patriot from GA, was pronounced deceased around 6 that evening.

I walked away that day with my head hung low, full of anguish. Joe was certified president, outrage was pouring out from every media station, and I was instantly labeled an insurrectionist!

People I never met were doxxing my job and death threats flooded my social media. Arriving home the next morning, I was told a selfie from the rally had been re-tweeted 641 times, each time tagging the FBI. The government’s manhunt for “J6’rs” amplified by the minute it seemed, and I anxiously knew my day was coming. The morning of January 13, 2021, terror befell me as FBI agents swarmed my home. After 2 hours of questioning and searching with no warrant, they seized my phone and left.

Over the next few years, my life took a downward spiral. I became a pariah in my own town. After years of striving to reach my goal to work in critical care nursing, I resentfully stepped away from the medical field after an unjust reduction in pay and hours. The relationship that developed with God years ago in that homeless shelter had long since fizzled out. I didn’t understand that this relationship was the source of my strength and essence of my life. I sadly admit I had used God. My recovery took a backseat, my interests became unimportant, and I lost my purpose. In October 2022, I relapsed and I plunged into darkness.

The remorse, horror, and hopelessness of 1/20/23 are unforgettable. Coming to from a 3-day, drug-fueled bender, depression and self-pity stretched all around me and consumed me like quicksand. Mico was next to me and I gave him big ole hug, got myself together and headed out the door. I barely noticed how frigid it was as I sat in the deserted field across from my house. I lost myself in the gray, overcast skies and couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet it was. My family was unaware of my relapse, but knew of the challenging times I was going through. I simply sent them a text letting them know how overwhelmingly grateful I was for them and how much I loved them. I tossed my phone and replaced it with my Glock 43x 9mm. I was unbelievably calm as I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger…     I unknowingly missed my heart by millimeters, but I knew I hit my lung by my inability to breathe as I realized I was about to die. Neighbors heard the gunshot and paramedics soon arrived. After three intense operations and clearing of a nasty infection in my lung, I fully recovered physically. During my hospital stay, a longtime sober friend visited and offered me an opportunity at the same recovery program I went through 10 years before. They just built a new location in Wilmington, NC. I knew what it took to get clean (not just NOT using), but this was an opportunity to start fresh, get focused, and get back on my feet in a new area. Before I was discharged, I begged God’s forgiveness for my complete selfishness and that no matter what circumstance, I would follow His will and be a living testimony to Him. In February of this year I made the move to North Carolina and wasted no time getting myself and my life back on track. A popular saying in 12-step fellowships is “recovery is an inside job,” and this is what I missed all these years. I worked on what people would see rather than who I wanted to be – a man of integrity, discipline, self-control, and honesty. I became active in a local church. I developed a personal morning routine in which I align myself with my Creator and His word. I bring my joy as well as my troubles to Him, then I sit still an listen to direction. I try every day to live right by God and manifest good Karma for myself and those around me. I have an inner peace and fullness that I never knew existed. I have found purpose, meaning, and direction in my life.

Curtis Tate and his dog Mico.

This didn’t happen overnight and it’s surely been an uphill battle. My (now ex) spouse left me a month into treatment, draining my finances, and abandoning my dog to the shelter. Difficult and soul-crushing doesn’t begin to describe these times, but with the most amazing friends and family, and a no-excuse attitude, I made it through even stronger. I don’t give up and with God, it’s all possible. 7 months into my move, an amazing career opportunity opened up for me. I started a community outreach program in lower-income  neighborhoods in which I provided free workouts and nutrition guidance. I sponsored other men new in recovery, giving back what was freely given me. I was also in the middle of organizing with a community coordinator, a walk-a-thon fundraiser for families of lost loved ones to suicide.

This all ended August 24, 2023, when 2.5 years after the FBI showed up on my doorstep and arrested me on seven felonies. I’ve been to 4 different jails, having spent a month in solitary confinement. I’m now in DC’s DOC, C3A – or better known as the “Patriot Pod.” I’ve met some of the best guys here and have been welcomed with open arms. I’m beyond grateful for our supporters, and those who stand by us. I’ve been offered my first plea for 10-15 years! For protesting! This sometimes feels like a horrible nightmare, actually losing a decade of my life, but its very much reality.
While I’m not sure what the outcome of this is, I do know that God is bigger than the courts, and He’s not done with me yet. I strive everyday to be the light in his dark time, especially for my family and those around me. Truth will prevail! Thank you for reading. God Bless.

 

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