While I was visiting my father and talking with him in a public place in Portsmouth, I noticed near us a chart which said that my father owned over 60% of the Cincinnati Reds baseball team. I asked him about that and he said yes, he did. I could hardly believe it. After I talked more with him, he said he was a very wealthy fellow. I hadn't intended to ask him what he was going to do with his property when he died, but I blurted out anyway, "What are you going to do with it all?"

Somewhat agitated, he made it clear that he was going to leave me a substantial part of his estate when he died. At the same time, he didn't want to commit himself. He still wanted to see how I turned out.

We stood up and walked around. I still wanted to know more about his intentions. I wanted to tell him that his financial situation was so complicated, I needed to know what he intended to do. When I asked him if he owned part of Dreamland Pool in Portsmouth, he said yes, and he began talking about that. When he said there was a complicated formula involving his ownership of various properties, I thought I needed to know what that formula was.

The place where we were was crowded with people. He and I walked over to a wooden fence so we could have some privacy. As we climbed over the fence, I realized we were atop a high cliff on the other side of the fence. I looked away for an instant at some people standing nearby, and when I looked back for my father, he had disappeared. I looked and looked until I came to the conclusion that he must have fallen off the cliff. I asked a man there if he had pushed my father and the man said no. Nor had anyone seen him fall.

I looked down to the bottom of the cliff. We were around ten stories high. I spotted a set of stairs which led to the bottom of the cliff and I began descending the steps. Soon I could see my father's fat body lying on its back on the bottom step. A puddle of blood encircled his head.

I ran back up the stairs and jumped back over the fence. I was then surprised when someone wheeled up my father in a wheelchair. When I looked at his eyes, I couldn't tell if he was conscious, but he was obviously still alive. His eyes looked blank. Obviously he wouldn't survive. Somebody said, "He's the devil."

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