By William Thomas Sherman
1604 NW
70th St.
Seattle,
WA 98117
206-784-1132
gunjones@netscape.com
https://www.angelfire.com/d20/htfh
I truly hate to have to write (and have spent the
time) writing this because it seems self-indulgent to dwell on or take extra
time going into crimes suffered and misfortunes of the past rather than leave
them behind and get on with life. But if only (in my case) it were so simple!
These problems and the people who brought them about continue to plague me and
unless addressed and faced up to (i.e. with the help of others) I cannot
get on with my life. At the same time, yet others need to know about these
things that I will relate so that such extreme crimes and outrages can be
prevented in future.
What is presented here is a narrative and account of
what must certainly be one of the strangest and most horrifying ongoing series
of events ever testified to. At the outset here, I must point to (three)
obstacles I face in both telling and having this story received by others.
1.
By commonly held beliefs
the premise of my story involves spirit people, and (ultimately) if you don’t
accept the reality of spirit people, none of the rest of what I say can be
properly accounted for.
2.
There are some who
accept that there are spirit people, but who assume that such spirits have a
higher jurisdiction over manmade courts and legal systems, and therefore they
need not given any heed to my claims against such persons.
3.
The people responsible
for the crimes I will enumerate are some of the most vicious people you could
possibly not imagine, and who at the same time have holdings of such
wealth, power, and influence to easily intimidate those who attempt to do good
or rectify evil.
The response to these above claims or arguments I will
leave aside for now, but will try to address and give answer to in the course
of what follows.
I frankly don’t know or expect that any one will
listen to me. But if nothing else I at
least need some sort of record of what happened for legal purposes such as
creditors and financially related matters. When they ask me why will I do not
pay back this credit card or student loan you owe,[1] I will say I have been outrageously cheated, been
(somewhat) physically disabled, denied both my human and civil rights,
including the right to receiving my communications (including phone, e-mail,
and regular mail) and consequently am denied a fair and due opportunity and
means to make a living. Now if someone
says I wrote this narrative merely to avoid my student loan and credit card
bill, I think those who will have taking the time to thoughtfully review this
matter will see that such an allegation is completely absurd. The disgust and
very real and deep dislike I have in having to write this in the first place
should (I think) more than refute the charge.
What is offered here is especially addressed to
lawyers, doctors, clergy, educators, activists, government officials, and
scientists. I would have like to make a more formal legal document of this, but
then how to explain these spirit people in that wise, while at the same
attempting describe the reality of things which are and were intended to be
bizarre and unbelievable. In some instances I provide information that would
not so much help a lawyer, but yet provide a lead for a detective or a more
close scientific investigator. Similarly, I make reference to a fact or
incident which on the surface might not seem significant, by itself, but which
will, I believe, be seen as having greater meaning in the greater context of my
story. This account is valuable I think
because it is a very rare if not entirely unique instance where someone is able
to record and report ongoing crime that spans a decade, and which involves
spirit people. Many, many others have undoubtedly suffered similarly, which is
to say in secret and unheard due to the problems faced in attempting to provide
such a narrative, such as remembering what happened, describing spirit people,
getting others to listen to and believe them.
I have decided then to tell this story simply as I
know it, which is to say in manner that can be more readily understood by most
or all. At the same time I am being candid about things many others refuse to
discuss, having particularly in mind those who would claim what I discuss is
outside the power of criminal or civil law. To restrict this exclusively to a
more ordinary legal presentation would I think tend to trivialize the
seriousness of what this is all about, of which the legal is only one – albeit
an important – aspect.
My book, A New Treatise on Hell, gives an
account and explanation of spirit people from a more general and scientifically
oriented perspective, and I highly recommend, if I cannot require, you read
that first in order to better understand this.
If some of what I get into talking about sounds crazy,
I respectfully ask, as I did in New Treatise, that you suspend final
judgment till you have fully and properly heard me. It is far too easy to take
out of context what I am saying here and have it distorted or misunderstood
otherwise.
This narrative has to a large extent been taken from
letters I wrote years ago reporting what was going on then. In a number of
instances (made more easy these days by the welcome wonder of word processing)
I have slightly modified a given telling of what happened, for what seem to me
purposes of better clarity, and a more properly described and or explained
event. I admit I am foggy on many details but unfortunately I simply have been
through so much. Do know then that in between two given events I describe there
were or possibly was some other excited event or assault that also may have
taken place, but which I have left out in order to keep this narrative
manageable. For example in between the
time of my returning to Seattle from Los Angeles (as I will relate) and my
going to a north Seattle clinic I suffered repeatedly, and not without
considerable pain, from biting my tongue (as if by accident.) This strange
occurrence lasted about a week. Another sort of example might be the strange
and irrational treatment and attitudes I encountered from specific individuals
I might mention and describe when I tried to discuss my situation with them.
So many things happened it would be not be possible to
include them all, really thousands of assaults, tortures, and acts of
maliciousness of various kinds. What is given here I would say, quantitatively
(and roughly) reflects about one fifth of what happened.
Unavoidably, a number of people, and public
institutions as well, will simply look bad in the course of what I relate,
indeed, in a given instance, criminally so. Despite this I am not writing this
to get back or retaliate on anyone, and would myself be the first to extend
leniency and pardon to any and everyone I mention here – except possibly those
culpable of the worser and more violent of what I relate and who possess great
wealth, and or who give orders to others to commit crimes.
Where it would be best to start my story is not so
easy to say, As I will consider much later, there is good reason to think these
things go back much earlier than what I present. But to make this all easier to
understand and digest I want to start at about early 1991 when a four part
series I wrote on silent film actress Mabel Normand was published by “Classic
Images” magazine (a nationally circulating film history and collectors
monthly.) It was about this time that affliction in my life seem to begin taking
on a darker cast than could be ascribed to ordinary setbacks and misfortune. At
the time, I was living in the basement of my father’s home at 6322 Woodlawn
Ave. North, which is a block away (to the east) from Greenlake in Seattle.
Now though I was
an author at that time, writing (and given the circumstances) was not something
I could reasonably expect to make money from. Consequently, I was working at
the University of Washington, mostly as a helper in mail and supplies in the
Department of Education there (located in Miller Hall.) Among other things, I
was also occasionally involved in protests against animal experimentation,
sometimes, for example, writing “letters to the editor” to the U.W. Daily
(newspaper) when the topic came up in news stories.
Sometime in (I believe 1991) I had two very unusual
things happen top me. One occasion I came down with a horrible skin disease
which covered my torso, which resembled small pox or something similar. I was
quite shocked and surprised, if not horrified, by this completely unexpected
event, and to this day how and why I got the disease I don’t know. I did
research and found what I had was ptyriasis rosea, which self-diagnosis was
afterward confirmed by a physician I went to see. Fortunately, the illness although
it looked awful and felt uncomfortable, was not serious otherwise, and I was
able to recover and my skin cleared up after a few weeks.
The second occurrence involved my Toyota Corona which
was parked in front of my house, was rammed into by a pickup truck, which hit
my own car from the rear.[2] The person
who did this fled on foot before he could be spotted, and it was later
discovered (or else believed by the Seattle police to be the case) that the
person was on drugs and had stolen the pickup. My damaged car was subsequently
given away and my father purchased a black Mazda pickup truck to replace it.
In June 1992, I left Seattle for Los
Angeles to do research for my book on Mabel Normand. Also, and to be brief, I
felt the culture and quality of living had gone seriously downhill in Seattle
and I had the idea of making the move to California a more or less permanent
one.
I had made some contacts in Los Angeles
in the course of my Mabel Normand and silent film research, and with their help
ended up moving to 1377 Lucille Ave. which is a house on a hill overlooking a
view into the Hollywood and Sunset area. My dwelling there itself was located
in the basement with my front door situated at the back of the house (and
facing west.)
For a while things went smoothly (I
rather liked Los Angeles), spending my time doing research for my book. Yet as
time passed a few odd events began to occur. In one peculiar instance, at 12:30
in the morning, an LA Police helicopter hovered (that is essentially remained
in place) over my backyard and shined a flood light over the yard and in my
house (why? I haven't the foggiest). Awoken I came outside, and gestured to
them with my arms as if to ask what was going on? They continued hovering and
shining the search light on me. This continued for a prolonged series of
minutes, till exasperated I went inside to get my camera. Only when I came back
out and I pointed the camera at them did they speed away (towards Sunset Blvd.
- a few blocks down from where I was living.)
One time while visiting the downtown
public library to do research for my book, I went downstairs to go outside and
take a smoke break. As I passed through the main corridor to go out, about 3 or
4 L.A. police officers were standing in the small passage way there, and when I
passed by them, one of them sort of gestured toward me. The others nonchalantly
glanced where he directed, as if to recognize or size me up.
Another even stranger incident occurred
when I woke up one morning to find literally thousands of ants pouring in a
stream through (and under) the front door of my home in an essentially compact
body. It was just like something out of a horror movie. Apparently the ants
came up out of the ground in my back yard (remember my “front” door was located
at the back of the house I was staying in.) In order to get rid of them I used
a wet towel to collect them, basically having to wring the towel outside, or
flush them down the bathtub drain after collecting them.
About or shortly after these events,
which is to say in the summer months of 1992, there were signs on at least two
or three occasions that it looked as though my apartment at 1377 Lucille Ave.
had been broken into.
Some of my things looked as if they had
been gone through, and my three cats - which is very unusual for them, - were
all hiding as if they had been frightened. I called to have a police officer,
Lt. Vega, come and take a report of breaking and entry. To be brief, he said
that because there was no clear evidence of a break in he could not file a
report. Naturally, I was not all that pleased with this response, but what
could I do? I did ask him however if he
would at least write me a little note to say that he had been there to
investigate. To this he agreed.
Despite all these incidents, my stay in
Los Angeles was mostly pleasant, and I had no special reason to think I was
being targeted by someone. For a few weeks I signed with a temporary employment
agency (Kelly and or Manus services I think) and consequently did some part
time office work in the Downtown area.
Then on a Sunday in early October 1992 (I
believe this was October 4), I attended
a musical concert at the Roxy on
Sunset Blvd. Prior to this concert I
ate at the Spaghetti Factory located (as I recall) on Santa Monica Blvd. My
meal there consisted of spaghetti and a glass of wine. Afterwards at the
concert itself, I had a diet coke. At first I enjoyed the concert very much,
the group performing was an English pop-group Shakspear's Sister. However
during the course of the show I suddenly began to feel very ill, and for no
apparent reason started to sweat uncontrollably. While it is true the club
atmosphere was rather stuffy, this no way seemed to explain why I was, in a
gradual flash as it were, rendered inexplicably queasy and absolutely drenched
with perspiration. Prior to the concert I was in the best of health and spirits
and the onset of my discomfort came as a great surprise, as I was up to that
moment in excellent health. There is no doubt in my mind that the reason for my
being ill on this occasion was because I had been poisoned. Though granted it
may, taken by itself, have been unintentional poisoning, later events, as I
will relate, would seem to suggest it had been otherwise.
In the following week I did not feel very well. I
attributed this to simple fatigue. Then on one day in the week I ate at the
Milano restaurant, on Alessandro Blvd I believe, and thought a proper meal
would do me good. Instead I became dramatically worse. I began to experience
very extreme constipation, a condition which I had never suffered in any way
shape or form prior to this, such that it became impossible for me to go to the
bathroom. As well, to my shock I discovered that my sexual organ felt as though
frozen, would not function other than to urinate. My breathing became more
difficult. Hoping that all this was
simply some temporary malady brought on accidentally - I was not then
suspicious of it being the result of someone's deliberate intent, I rested for
a few days hoping it would go away. But it didn't, and by the end of the week
it finally became obvious that I needed to go to a hospital or clinic. I hadn't
been able to go to the bathroom, other than to urinate for almost an entire
week! On Saturday morning, Oct. 10th, I called a friend and asked
him if he knew a clinic or doctor he could recommend. This friend was Sydney
Thompson, an elderly gentleman, who I understand is since deceased. His address
was 100 W. Edgeware, Los Angeles, CA
90026. I became acquainted with him through a “Mabel Normand” contact,
that is museum founder and Hollywood archivist Don Schneider, also an elderly
gentleman) was very kind and a great help to me in my stay and getting set up
in Los Angeles.
Unfortunately, after a lengthy search,
every local medical clinic we encountered on Sunset was closed! Why this was so
I did not then nor now know why. In any case, Mr. Thompson at last suggested
the Queen of Angels Hospital on Vermont Ave. To this I agreed.
We
arrived at the emergency room of the Queen of Angels Hospital at around 10:00
a.m. I signed in and was told to wait. After sitting in the waiting area for
five hours, during which time I felt fairly miserable, I was finally admitted
about 3 p.m. to the Emergency room.
There it was all a hub of noise and doctors, and cadets of some sort
(police, medical, or police/medical I don't exactly remember, they were wearing
Navy blue cover suits) were running about - the place gave the appearance of
being busy. I was assigned a bed behind some portable curtains, give a smock
and told to undress. There were at least two policemen present in the room who
apparently were waiting while someone in their custody was being treated. No
one could see in or out of the curtained area I was located in, except very
slightly through breaks where the curtains formed into corners.
After
a doctor, I forget which one, briefly heard what was ailing me, he left and
different staff persons came and took my blood pressure. My blood pressure was
registered clumsily at least three times by different persons while I waited
for a doctor proper to return. At the time, I thought the repetition of having
my blood pressure taken by different persons, including at least one
"cadet," was done rather carelessly and incompetently.
Finally,
Dr. Elmer Eley (note. Despite the fact that the person who ultimately signed my
medical report, which I later obtained a copy of was a Dr. Phillip Fagan, I
only later discovered that the physician who actually examined me was not Dr.
Fagan, but rather Dr. Eley - Fagan reportedly having been at no time present),
a rather muscular, middle aged, black male with a mustache, came into my spot
to check my breathing with a stethoscope. Customarily, it has been my
experience that when this procedure is done the patient is either standing or
sitting up. Dr. Eley had me lie back on the bed/examination table and told me
to breath as he applied his instrument.
As he came to the area upward to
the left of my heart, he made a pointed clenched fist and suddenly and with
thoughtful and quick deliberation PUNCHED me just below my left shoulder! I was
so shocked by it I didn't know what to say or could think what could account
for his doing it. Finishing up, he asked a few questions (as if nothing had
happened) and left me. I waited a while
longer very much perplexed. Then a middle-aged female staff member with short,
light colored hair came in by herself into my spot. And telling me to roll
over, she gave me an injection Simply assuming she knew what she was doing,
desperate to be rid of the "chill" that suffused my groin, and
without questioning I simply acquiesced and without informing me of what I was
being given, she injected me. She then departed and I was again left to wait.
As
I sat there I gradually began to feel what was apparently the
"medication" taking effect I
suddenly began to have great lapses in my train of thought and suddenly found
it difficult to form words. It is all somewhat difficult to describe except to
say that it felt as though I had been given a very, very strong narcotic of
some kind. By this time, I became very fearful, after being punched and now
this apparent drugging, and didn't quite know what to do. Each time I tried to
get hold of a staff member for help I
was very rudely told to wait. For
the next three or four hours I
lay on my bed waiting for one of the doctor's to return, during which lengthy
time feeling utmost distress at my
situation. I literally felt and thought I could very well die then and there,
due to the effects of being punched in the heart, and the injection which had
some sort of mind altering effect, causing my thoughts to be disoriented.
By
eight o'clock p.m., a Dr. Eley gave me a bottle of liquid laxative and
directions to buy antihistamine. Without ever telling me once what might be
ailing me, or saying whether the problem with my groin was cured or not, he
finally released me. Naturally, by this time I was dying to get out of there,
so I didn't trouble to ask him about what my condition was. In any case, he
made it so very clear that he was busy, that even if I had tried to get him to
talk for more than one or two minutes he would have put me off or casually
allowed himself to be distracted. He was not entirely unsympathetic when I
spoke with him, only he would not stay to answer what seemed to me were very
pertinent and straight forward questions.
Given the actual amount of time spent seriously dealing with my case (in
contrast to the time I time spent there) one would have thought I should have
been there no more than ten or fifteen minutes, been on my way, while freeing
the “doctors” to devote their time, and my bed, to other cases. Instead it took
around four hours for me to simply wait around to get a bottle of laxative and
directions to get antihistamine.
After I came back from the hospital, I
found indications that someone had been in my home again. This time, the note I
had Lt. Vega make (and sign), when he came to investigate, and the original
copy of my birth certificate were missing.
The
next day I returned to the hospital to complain and make inquiries. I asked to
know what it was I had been injected with. After a lot of running around for an
answer a staff person showed me a document of some kind with
"Penheglian" written on it, that presumably being the medication. My
current records mention "Phrenegan," but this was not what was
originally written on the document. To add to this, the Queen of Angels staff,
despite my inquiries, never explained what the Phrenegan, assuming that was
what I was even injected with, was for, or exactly why it was administered to
me. At that return visit the doctor's
name then was given to me as "Herb" Fagan, as mention it was Dr. Eley
who actually treated me, not Dr. Fagan. This was written on this same document.
I then got a senior staff person of some kind and sat down with her and told
her what happened. After hearing my story, she politely told me that this was a
“good” hospital and that they didn't do things like that. I then requested my
medical records and was sent to the records division. Once there, they told me
that my records weren't ready and that I would have to come by on another
occasion.
Disgusted and frankly now a little
fearful, I shortly after all this, Columbus day I believe, I left Los Angeles
and came back to Seattle. Not surprisingly, and after what I'd been through, I
did not feel comfortable remaining in Los Angeles. Although the laxative seemed
to cure my constipation (which was hitherto something unknown to me), I still
had difficulty breathing and was feeling the effects of Dr. Eley's having
punched me. At the time, it felt as
though my heart had been injured, hence my feeling that I might die, which I
mentioned before. When I'd returned to Seattle, however, I went to a clinic. My
injury was diagnosed as damaged muscle within my left shoulder and they
prescribed Advil, which had the desired
effect of alleviating the pain.
I resumed staying at my father's house,
in Seattle, where I had lived prior to going to Los Angeles. Though he took, he
took me back in there was certain unaccountable hostility toward me. And after
I got through telling him and my brothers what had happened to me, far from
getting any sympathy, they summarily pronounced me crazy. At the same time, one
of my brothers blamed me for some how putting them in danger by returning to
Seattle. This unwelcome and rather inexplicably contentious reception very much
surprised me. Instead of move into my old room in the basement of the Woodlawn
house, which was then occupied by one of my brothers, I was put in the attic to
stay.
Sometime in the last week of October, I
suffered what I felt at the time and to this day believe was poisoning. I was
watching the 1992 Presidential debates one evening and upon drinking some coke
from a bottle, which had already been opened, at my father's house. I began to
feel the extreme effects what seemed like a street drug of some kind, possibly
speed. Why or how this could happen I have no explanation. The coke was a 16
liter plastic bottle with the top off and three fourths full resting by my
father's couch which I matter-of-factly drank out of without having any reason
to think there would be something wrong with it. Whatever the cause - whether
the coke or something else - I was
rendered suddenly and inexplicably ill in a manner which made me feel I had
ingested a foreign substance resembling speed in its effects. At the time I was
taking Sudafed, and later at the hospitals directions Benadryl, both
antihistamines, for some difficulty I was having in breathing. However, the
last time I had taken this was the night before, and didn't see any connection
between how I was feeling at the time of watching the debates and this
medication.
As the hours passed and I grew worse, it
became clear for me as I felt to seek medical assistance and the first place I
thought of was the University of Washington Medical Center.
The following are accounts of separate
visits I made to the University of Washington Hospital Emergency room as a
result of my being poisoned (or, if someone insists, my feelings of being
poisoned.)
“1st visit: 10/27/92. Physician: Dr.
Stephen Burns. Some hours after the incident with the coke bottle I had myself
admitted to the Emergency Room there and to start out with was questioned, had
my blood pressure and temperature taken. I was hooked up to an EKG machine, the
tapes and wires attached to my chest area. Some time during the course of my
time on the examination table I blacked out. Whether this blacking out was due
to fatigue or what I do not know. In any case, I was rendered unconscious for a
unknown duration, at the most an hour or two. After I left the ER I went home
to go to bed. Because I was so tired, it was very early in the morning by this
time, I did not bother to get undressed when I went to bed. When I awoke the
next day to take a shower upon undressing I found an EKG tape attached to my
scrotum. The only logical explanation for how it could have got there was that
someone, apparently on the ER staff placed it there during the time I was
unconscious. This at least seems to be the logical conclusion. Yet because I
was unconscious when it happened I cannot say that I unequivocally know that
this in point of fact is what took place, let alone who the individual might
have been. Nevertheless, given the staff's peculiar and ingenuous behavior and
mistreatment of me in other ways and the fact that I could not have acquired such
medical tape from another source, I personally am convinced that this is what
happened.
“The record of this visit reports a
tightness in my shoulder I was feeling as the cause of my complaint without any
reference to my stating I felt I might have been poisoned. While the pain
described regarding some strained muscle in my left shoulder, this pain was
secondary to my being or my perceived being poisoned, and was not what I
actually had myself admitted for.
“On an occasion following the coke bottle
incident I again felt as though I had been poisoned after eating something from
the refrigerator. (And no, it is not lost on me that it should normally seem
very odd that I should suffer poisoning so close upon the first incident)
Whether I was intentionally or inadvertently poisoned, I don't presume to say.
It was around this time in the media that stories came out about the E coli
bacteria and Sudafed tampering. All I can say is that my physical constitution
was such that I felt as though I had been poisoned, nor did I have reason than
or now to believe otherwise. This time,
as with each such occasion, the effects of the poisoning were similar to the
effects of a street drug, in this second instance pscillocibic mushrooms. Back
in high school I had on at least two occasions taken these so know how these
effect a person. Be this as it may I returned again to the ER. Although I did,
of course, have some misgivings after what happened on my first visit, I was
willing to give the hospital the benefit of the doubt since there did not then
seem any ostensible reason for why such people would violate the law, let alone
human decency, in order to hurt me. I also thought as well at the time that
even given that wrongdoing had been done to me, i.e. the tape found on my
scrotum, there would be no reason to believe that such an gross outrage could
possibly be repeated. Lastly, being puzzled by the tape, I suppose a part of me
wanted to see how they would react when they faced me again. Having said this,
however, my ailment was genuine and my curiosity and indignation with respect
to the tape itself was not itself what caused me to return to the UW Medical
Center for medical attention.
“2nd visit to the UW Medical Center,
10/30/92, - Physician: Dr. McMullen. This visit, as I recall, was uneventful as
far as misconduct is concerned, except that I was not given a proper
prescription for the medication I was given. The problem was that no where in
writing was it indicated what the dosage the medication was to be taken. At the
time, I retained a good deal of evidence on this point, including the
medication itself which I decided that I would not (not knowing the dosage)
take. I had the original
"prescription" as well. Yet for reasons unknown to me, these,
as well of my Queen of Angels records, vanished from a specific storage place
of mine, and I cannot explain or account for what happened to them. Due to
present lack of evidence then, I will keep things simple by not making anything
of this particular charge about the prescription.
“3rd visit to UW Medical Center,11/13/92,
- Physician: Dr. Weaver. On a third occasion I again inexplicably felt the
sudden effect of having been poisoned. As in the prior instances, I could not
give an adequate explanation about why this was taking place only that it was.
The nature of the third poisoning was unlike the previous `poisonings' or
anything I had ever experienced before and am consequently at a loss to what I
can liken it except to say it seemed like a street drug resembling speed.
“At some point early on in this third
visit, I was brought into a small examination room and was told to lay flat on
the examination table, which I did. A male staff member with blonde hair and
glasses, after doing some routine checking, including some extensive looking
into my ear of all places, proceeded to feel out my entire body. Now not
surprisingly the experience of involuntarily being made to feel the effects of
a drug is an extremely traumatic thing, as I would hope would be self-evident,
and this made me malleable. At first, though I thought it strange, I assumed
the doctor or staff person knew what he was doing so I did not protest. He
never said he was giving me a massage and I presumed he was engaged in a
legitimate examination. The only problem for me was the question of how slowly
and deliberately feeling out my entire body is supposed to have been an
appropriate method for diagnosing or dealing with a poisoning. I am no expert,
so I could be wrong about this. I can say however that the experience made me
feel extremely violated as much as if I had been physically molested.
“Prior to going into the ER, I had called the
Seattle Police Department to make what was now clearly an overdue report about
having been poisoned. Not long after the ‘examination’ described above, a
police officer arrived at the hospital. This Officer's name was Underwood,
badge no.#682. After staying to listen to me for at most two or three minutes
in which I described how and why I had felt I was poisoned,[3] he told me in effect that "he
didn't have time for this" and ran out without allowing me to state what
had happened as far as the poisoning was concerned, let alone file a report.
Months later I filed a complaint against the officer with the Police Department
Internal Investigations. My Contact Log File number is CL#93-227. After some
letter writing I spoke with the officer's supervisor. He, in sum, stated that
while the officer acted improperly in running out on my complaint it was not
bad enough to require disciplinary action. The reason for this in turn was
because the ER staff had discredited me with the officer without my knowledge,
thus putting themselves in a position to deny me my civil rights. I only found
out about this after I made my report to Internal Investigations. If the ER
staff, for whatever reason, didn't want to treat me as my case required there was
no reason whatsoever for them to have interfered with my simply making a report
to the police, while at the same time not informing me of the fact.
“Later I spent a lot of time (in hospital examining
room where I was placed) talking with Dr. Weaver who insisted I was a lunatic
while at the same time refusing (except until the last minute) to give me a
blood or urine test to determine if I was enduring the effect of a noxious,
foreign substance. At the same time as he insults me, he effectively denies me
the very means by which I could verify the nature of my complaint. It says on
the hospital file for this visit that I was given a toxicological test. This I
assume refers to a last minute urinalysis that was hastily done. It is true my
urine was taken, but only as a last gesture on their part to show that some
test had been taken. Even if the test was legitimate why hadn't it been done on
the two prior visits, and why only on the third visit only after repeated
requesting and finally insistence on my part that it be done? It would seem
clear to me from this that having initially diagnosed my case as psychological
in origin it was in their vested interest to deny the possibility of my having
actually ingested a foreign substance, and in this way cover for their mistake
on my first two visits. For even if I been poisoned in actuality only once, let
alone three times, this would not have reflected well on the ER staff's conduct
refusing me a chemical test.
“Dr. Weaver, at the time of my visit,
while refusing me a urine or blood test, described me as suffering from
‘paranoid delusion.’ Well, there are at least two things wrong with his
assessment. My statements with respect to my speculation then as to what might
have been the origin of my poisoning have been distorted to make it sound as
though I left no room for doubt. In point of fact, I never at any time said I
was certain as to the cause of why I had ostensibly been poisoned and merely
offered when asked what I felt was a possible interpretation of what had
occurred. The doctor's report on the
other hand would seem to suggest that I had some definite and conclusive notion
as to the reason for my apparently having been poisoned when in fact I had no
such definite or conclusive notion. Finally, as stated before, never once could
the doctor explain why I had all along been denied a urinalysis.
“A word in conclusion about the
‘poisonings.’ Now four separate and distinct poisonings in the course of less
than two weeks would seem to stretch the credulity of some, and I am well
aware of this. If someone prior to my experiencing it would have asked
me what I thought was the probability of such a thing taking place, I would
have said I thought it highly unlikely. Indeed to this day I cannot claim to be
able to explain or understand it all. Yet just because something sounds
improbable does not make it impossible. The palpable and physical sensations of
separate poisonings did take place, and I don't have the least doubt in my mind
about this fact. To put this another way, I am absolutely certain that my
ailments were not in any way the product of delusion or hallucination, or
psychological indisposition and am outraged then and now that they were treated
as such without proper chemical tests having been made. If we grant, just for the sake of argument,
that I had indeed been poisoned as I claim, how could I possibly have presented
or handled my case differently then I did? Imagine what it would feel like if
one had actually been poisoned, yet upon seeking a physician was told one was
‘crazy.’ Well, this is precisely what happened, and I don't know what is worse,
the actual poisonings or being treated as I was by the hospital under those
circumstances. [4]
“Within the subsequent months, I reported
what happened to the University Hospital Administration, and my complaint was
directed to Leah Kliger. My purpose in contacting her was not to cast blame
upon the hospital itself but that part of the staff I did encounter. I called
her in June, and after she requested it I sent her a letter providing the
essential details of what took place. I
waited a week or two for a response, then called her office and was told she
went on vacation. I waited a few more weeks I was not able to reach her, and it
soon became obvious that the reason for this is that she refused to speak with
me. On a second or third call to her office I was told a letter had been sent
me. This letter was brief and advised me to seek psychiatric help. Naturally,
one could not presume that she would necessarily take for granted the truth of
my story, yet there was no reason that she should treat my after all serious
complaint in this peremptory, insulting, and frivolous manner. Simple answers
to a few questions hardly seems like much to ask, again, even if I was crazy. I
find it disconcertingly ironic that at least four major Washington or Seattle
area medical organizations whom I inquired with prior to writing this had
hardly a clue as to whom one would report a complaint of staff misconduct at a
hospital. I site this example, in some detail, as typical of the cavalier and
condescending attitude I met with when trying to bring my problem to attention
of those who might be in a position to help remedy my situation.
“A close examination of the medical
records drawn up by Dr. Burns and Dr. Weaver reveals that a deliberate and
conscious effort is made in them (if one can read the handwriting) to discredit
me and not in the least is there any consideration of the possibility that my
supposition of being poisoned had any merit whatsoever. In each case, without
there having been any chemical or urine test done to ascertain whether there
was a foreign substance in my system as I claimed, it is assumed that what I
was suffering was merely a disillusion of some kind.
“I had no reason to think prior to my
visits that I would receive anything but professional, intelligent and ethical
care and treatment from the University Medical Center ER, but unfortunately in
this I turned out to be much mistaken. It did not occur to me that it would be
possible that something similar to what had happened at the Queen of Angeles
could be repeated all the way back up here in Seattle.”
In what follows I go on to describe
(separately) what I experienced shortly after the U.W. Hospital visits. In
retrospect it needs to be supplemented with and seen in the light of what I
have stated in my New Treatise. I leave what I wrote here, essentially
not counting minor corrections and very slight re-wordings for the sake of
better clarity, as I wrote it back then to give you some of idea of the
perspective I had at the time, and the very awkward position I was placed in
trying to survive the regular and varied sorts of violence and injury being
done to me while attempting to figure out what was going on. This said while
the explanation I give may leave something to desire, the description of “the
apparatus” (as I called it then) or “KGB” brain radio is an accurate one. Also,
it goes without saying that in the course of what was going on I was suffering
from no little amount of trauma, though I think I behaved myself as rationally
and conscientiously as one could under the circumstances.
“It
is at this juncture of my account that I come to what, to many, is perhaps the
most extraordinary of all the events and strange occurrences of which I speak.
Because it concerns something which is outside the experiential purview or
expectation of the vast majority of people, it is very difficult to discuss. On
top of which, if what I say is taken the wrong way, it will very likely, as has
happened in the past, it could be used to discredit anything else I
might say. Therefore, I particularly beg your patience and open-mindedness then
in considering what I realize to many will sound outlandish in the extreme, yet
which, nevertheless, is very real.
“Following shortly upon the aforementioned events at the
University of Washington Medical Center, I found myself being made the ‘guinea
pig’ or in otherwise victim of some sort of mind control/torture technology.
“Before scoffing as some immediately will
at such a claim, let the thoughtful, objective, and honest ask two simple
questions:
“1) Would it be technologically possible to come up with a device
that would inflict pain, and indeed even read a person's thoughts, in our age
of unprecedented technical marvels? Certainly, as has been amply documented,
both the former Soviet Union and the United States have been engaged for
decades in related research of this sort. With what we have seen
technologically in the past decades the question has often become not ‘what is
possible?’ but rather ‘what isn't possible?’
“2) Do there exist people in this world,
devoid of all real moral conscience, for whom no crime is so bad they will not
think twice about perpetrating it, if they thought they could reap gain and or
wreak their wrath, and did not (at least as they believed) risk getting caught
doing it?
“If
the answer is yes to both these questions, then one can be no question as to
whether such a thing as mind control/torture technology is possible. When I
first found myself a victim of it, I did not know that mine was not merely an
isolated case. However, in Feb. 1996, I discovered there WERE more victims of
this, and similar technologies, and that there are mounds of evidence to
establish its existence to anyone willing to look at it. In Appendix [XYZ][5] of this document you will find what are
only mere fragments of what is available in the way of evidence, history, and
testimony concerning the inhuman application of technology to experiment of,
torment and, in effect "imprison" people. For suggesting such a
thing, there are obviously many who will instantly denounce me as some sort of
crack pot - this is to be expected. Yet I would respond by saying, after the
reader has completely read my narrative, look over all this material, and judge
honestly and intelligently whether there is not after all something to what I
claim. Who, for example, would otherwise have believed the non-consensual
testing of tens of thousands of citizens in the fifties with radiation; the
MKULTRA mind control experiments in the 50s and 60s; the non-consensual testing
of LSD on U.S. service personnel during the Vietnam war, or the Tuskegee
syphilis treatment which lately got into the news - could ever have taken
place? Yet all of these, albeit many years later, are indisputably now part of
the public record. Since those experiences, research and technology has only
become more sophisticated, and certainly there has been no dramatic increase in
public and private ethics and morals - to say the least.
“Essentially,
the technology is used on me as follows:
“1)
As best as I can tell it involves some sort of implant in my brain. Someone
later told me that mind control/torture technology can be used without an
implant as such being necessary. Be this as it may, as best as I have been able
to tell these past five years of enduring it, what I have is an implant of some
kind.[6]
“2)
In some way I can't claim to completely fathom, this technology can be used (as
preposterous as I know this sounds) to
read my thoughts. By thoughts I mean not my ‘mind’ as such, but rather my
thought perceptions, i.e. images or worded memories.
“3)
Initially it was used to send ‘signals,’ usually in response to my thoughts.
Later this expanded into what is in effect a two-way radio.
“Signals
refers to a kind of transmitted communication into my brain. One might liken it
to a radio communication in which my brain, or something implanted in it,
serves as a transmitter and receiver. These signals usually take the form of
one or two word communications; or snippets from popular songs. They are not
audible forces as such, but thoughts distinct from my own to the extent that I
it has been possible for me to carry on a dialogue with them. These are not
‘voices,’ but more like thoughts - only thoughts that are not my own. What
happens sometimes is that I can have a memory of these ‘alien’ thoughts and can
usually tell the difference between these memories and the signals themselves.
“In late November and December of 1992, the
intensity of the ‘auditory/thought’ signals was at their highest pitch, and
musical snippets were very frequently resorted to respond to my thoughts. Since
about January of 92, however, the intensity has been toned down and the musical
snippets made much more infrequent. At the present time (Feb. 1998), the
occasional song snippets have long since ceased, most of the signals take the
form of one and two word communications.
As time has gone on this technology has been used as a full bore radio,
and it is common for me to carry out extended conversations with people using
it (who, incidentally, claim to be from Microsoft.)
“4) Aside from thought reading, perhaps the most unusual feature
of this mind manipulation technology is the ability to have my sleeping dreams
invaded, in which I am forced to sit through what (for lack of a better term) I
will call a ‘dream production.’ As best as I can tell this aspect of the
technology works in either or both of two ways:
“a)
Images are somehow ‘suggested’ to me while I am asleep, which images are then
interspersed then in a given dream which is otherwise my own.
“b) Images are ‘broadcast’ by means of
the device via some sort of electromagnetic wavelength into my brain (while
asleep).
“One
can tell they're not ordinary dreams because, unlike ordinary dreams, they are
so frequent, and carefully orchestrated. They usually take the form of
propaganda, sometimes trying to shame me about drugs,[7] or something I did wrong in the past. In
other instances the dreams are used to attempt to degrade me, to shock me, mock
me and my values, intimidate, or even attempt to flatter or be friendly to me.
True, all of us have had nightmares, yet these ‘nightmares’ have the unusual
distinction of resembling some of the distasteful and obnoxious rubbish that
often comes out of Hollywood movie studios and television of recent memory.
Prior to being subject to this ‘torture,’ I rarely could ever recall even one
out of ten of the dreams I have had while sleeping. Yet after the introduction
of this device into my life, I can recall (whether I want to or not) the vast
majorities of these. And these dreams, which I endure DAILY, are so
pronounced and often of considerable
duration that if I did actually want
to, I could probably recall the contents of even more of them. Contrast this
with before 1992 when I would perhaps, on average, remember a dream I had once
every one or two months.
“Other
aspects which have, on various occasions, marked these dreams as being of
artificial origin are presence of luminous phosphorescent colors; distorted and
warped facial images (e.g. a very long nose, or bulging forehead - I later saw a computer program that i
sable to do this with photographic images); 3- D images which make objects
looks like they are ‘coming at me.’ None of these things has ever occurred to
me in a dream prior to 1992.
“Another very telling aspect of these
‘productions’ is that they have often included appearances by celebrities (or
at least images which give the appearances of being such, for example computer
generated images:)
“Some of those persons who have
‘appeared’ in these ‘dream productions’ are:
Ted Kennedy
Tom Hanks
Tom Brokaw
Clint Eastwood
Dan Rather
Warren Beatty
Woody Allen
Katie Couric (twice)
John F. Kennedy
Lyndon B. Johnson
Paul Newman
Bill Cosby
George Hamilton
Kathie Lee Gifford (three times)
Justin Heyward
John Lodge (twice)
Ray Manzarek
Elizabeth Taylor
O. J. Simpson (prior to famous crime
incident)
David Letterman (three or four times)
Bill Clinton
Hilary Clinton
Jerry Seinfeld
Al Yankovic
Alec Guiness
Mike Meyers
John Candy (prior to his death)
Daryl Hannah
Gene Siskel
Robert Duvall
Alan Dershowitz
Martin Landau
Luke Perry
Tom Hanks
Geena Davis
Demi Moore
Jim Morrison lookalike
Bob Dylan lookalike
William F. Buckley, Jr. lookalike
“There have been more well known people
and celebrities than even this extended list, yet I hope this catalog will
suffice for the purpose at hand.
“Now
it would simply be far too incredible for someone to have naturally occurring
dreams in which such a list of celebrities appeared - even if they WERE
mentally ill!
“Lastly,
another feature of this technology is to inflict physical pain on any and every
part of my head above the level of the ears, which I could best liken to having
one's head stuck in a microwave oven..
“Assuming
that I am not lying, I submit therefore this example of celebrity ‘appearances’
as convincing proof of the reality this technology. If on the other hand,
somebody thinks I am lying, then let them give me a lie detector test. I am
more than happy to oblige them, indeed pay for such a test myself
“Keep
in mind that there are such methods known as ‘psychological warfare,’ and the
obsession among certain segments of our society (particularly here locally)
with Hi-tech and ‘futuristic’ gizmos. There is no reason to assume that some of
the more very well to do among us would use such an their opposition
particularly if that opposition happens to be poor people like myself. In other
words, for some of society's despots an approach of this kind works well
because it is so hard to believe, so difficult to prove that in many ways it is
the ideal criminal method. ‘Psychological warfare’ using technology if being
used on a poor person is not something that poor person is going to be able to
prove - hence its obvious effectiveness as a criminal method.
“At present I am still hostage to this
technology and various sadistic, often disgusting and perverted, assaults. I
have had CAT Scans done to locate the brain technology, but either because the
doctor's are crooked, or the technology is of such a nature it is impossible to
detect unless under the naked eye (as someone once told me), there has been no
way as yet for me to establish its existence with others.”
At the present time it is my sense that,
with respect to “brain radio” (such as described above) in the course of what I
have been through both technology and spirit people were used. But it is not
always easy to say which was which in a given instance. Some of what I wrote in
retrospect seems rather (though justifiably and understandably) naïve. Yet
despite what has developed since (in the way of spirit people being made
manifest) there have been and are technologies, including radios of some kind,
which are used on a person’s brain. This sounds both utterly horrible and
ridiculous. Nevertheless I maintain this with conviction as much as I could
maintain anything else, having gone through so many experiences, which I could
describe in close detail, having had ample opportunity and evidence (admittedly
in subjective circumstances) to test my findings and conclusions. The
circumstances of such an investigation are admittedly subjective. Yet I believe
I have made an earnest effort to be both impartial and reasonably scientific
(if not methodologically thorough) in my investigation and analysis of the
phenomena – that is an effect – of or in the brain, which I am certain (as
mortal can empirically be) is brought about by technology.
I returned to the dept of Education (Miller Hall)
where I worked with Jack Thiem in the supply and mail room, and just tried to
get on with my life normally. Yet with
each passing day of abuse and indifference from others I was afraid I might be
killed. For this reason, and in fearing for their safety, I took two of my
cats, Timmy (or Timmina, a small gray striped tabby) and Hindman (a large size
mostly gray with white Persian) to the Animal Shelter on 15th N.W.
and had them put to sleep (October 14, 1992.)
.
Basically at that time I felt I was being set up for bad or perhaps for
good, and I thought that somehow others who knew of my predicament would take
care of and shelter the cats for me. Or if this was not the case these (at the
time) unknown people were trying to kill me, and therefore it was just as well
the cats be spared the situation I found myself in.
Jebo or Jeebo the third cat (a golden and
light brown-striped tabby) I was not with me at that time, as she had run away
when I was packing to leave Los Angeles, and in my (very foolish) haste and
anger at her running away, I decided to leave her (a choice I later deeply
regretted.) Later I was going to return to LA myself to get her, but my father
flew down instead, was able to find her in the house (I had left the door open)
and he brought her back up. Afterwards,
as I will relate, I lost Jebo too, and I must say that these cats were in a
sense the only close family I really had, and losing them, and losing them the
way I did, was and is among my greatest personal griefs to me in all this,
despite the countless painful and truly agonizing things I have and still
continue to go through.[8]
Although I was still suffering at that
time (and since), I tried as much as possible to live my life normally as I
could. Some people from the E!
Entertainment (cable tv) network contacted me to do an interview \for their
“Mysteries and Scandals,” regarding the William Desmond murder case, which I
had covered in my Mabel Normand Source Book. I agreed, and they came up
from Los Angeles and did an interview with me. There was, of course, nothing
wrong or untoward about this interview, but I mention it as one of the things
of significance which took place in late 1992 or early 1993.
Among the other events which took place
at that time, and of which my general recollection of these is somewhat vague.
But basically I went to have Cat Scans done of my brain for Dr. John Chapman.
To make a long story short he did not find anything in the Cat Scans to show
there was anything of a foreign nature detectable in my brain, and I believe
that was the upshot of my visits with him.
Sometime in 1992 or early 1993 I left
living at 6322 Woodlawn Ave. N. and moved to 3014 NW 75th, which my
father had bought. Sometime after moving in I went to work for Gray Top Cab
(then independently owned and located in Magnolia area of Seattle) various
bizarre assaults and occurrences continued to afflict me.
At some point, I don’t exactly recall
when but probably shortly after I moved to 3014 NW 75th St. I seriously contemplated suicide after Jebo
became frightened so as to in one instance run up the chimney. She was now all
alone from her sisters and there was something frightening her. I adopted a
kitten, who I called Joseph Skatey (a tabby also) hoping to give her some
companion, I myself feeling very much the loss of Timmy and Hindman. But she
continued to be sad and frightened. They one morning I awoke and found Jebo had
vanished and I haven’t seen or heard or her since. It was at this juncture that
I seriously contemplated suicide. As ridiculous as this sounds, I drove out far
off into the country one time (on the route from 99 to Darrington) only to find
that despite miles upon miles of forest I could not find a tree with a branch
both low enough and strong enough to support me hanging myself on!
I
spoke of wanting to commit suicide confidentially to someone I knew from high
school, Stuart Greene (as last I know of Medina and Seattle.) He told my
parents about this, and they or somebody called the King County Crisis Clinic.
To make a very painful to write story short, they had me committed, and while
at Harborview Hospital (at which I stayed a day or two) I was handcuffed to a
bed – this formally justified on the grounds on this simple basis that I had
verbally remonstrated with and objected to the
proceedings as entirely unnecessary (which they were, as seen by me then
and now.) Simply put, if there were people there to make a fuss or prevent me
from committing suicide than I did not feel the circumstances were right to do
it in the first place. This was my thinking.
At my father’s or the court’s behest or
insistence (I don’t recall exactly which) I saw Jenny Becker, at Case
Management Services, located at Capitol Hill in Seattle. I forgot exactly what
the purpose of these visits was, except that I do remember the subject of
obtaining social disability payments for my “illness,” though at the time I was
dead set against the idea.
Again my situation at that time I perhaps
found more trying than at any other because one of the things which most
baffled me was how and why these things were still going on. As a result much
of my general memory of this period is particularly sketchy so that in
describing what follows I may easily be mistaken as to sequence of which took
place. Otherwise the following is a list of some (and only some) of what
I went through or continued to go through as best as at present I can recall.
*
Two toxic injections (administered to me by someone when I was asleep at home)
one of which caused my eyes to turn blood shot red, my tongue stark yellow, and
induced a feeling as though my liver were being eaten away. Basically, I woke
up from a nap with the feeling of a pin prick in my arm when the first of these
took place, followed then shortly after by the above described symptoms. I went
to the Ballard Swedish Hospital, and despite the fact that the place was all
but deserted of patients, they were very cavalier, told me they were taking
care of someone with “a broken leg” and had me waiting so long that there was
no purpose of my remaining.
With regard to the second ‘injection,’
similarly I woke up with a pain like that of a needle inside my thigh, near my
groin. This was similar to the chill in my groin I had felt in Los Angeles.
This time I went to Virginia Mason Hospital ER on Capitol Hill. There the "physician" (I only
dealt with one person there) sat me down and talk down to me like I was crazy,
and, as at the UW Medical Center, refuse to give me a blood or urine test to
detect whether I had taken in some unhealthy, foreign substance. These two
events occurred roughly 3 to 4 years ago, and unfortunately I do not have the
exact dates of each, however both took place while I was staying at 3014 NW 75th
(which was a basement apartment, while the house above was being rented to
others.)
*
Food poisonings of, what as best as I could discern, of street drugs, such as
speed, also laxatives. Most of these occurred between 1992 and 1994.
*
Given diseases of various kinds, from large number of out breaks of miniature
moles, relentless ear-ache, appearance of acne on strange places such as the
middle center of my eye-lid, to an unbelievably severe cold (which last 2 to 3
months) unlike any I had ever experienced. Again, these occurred during this 1992 to 1994 period
also. It might be thought by some that these might simply have been brought
about naturally. While I cannot categorically deny such a possibility, specific
circumstances and the frequency of these things leaves me little doubt as to
most (if not strictly all) of the actual origin of these.
*
The appearance of tiny, bloodless, streaks of scars on my abdomen and inner
thigh - which I still have, and which were later shown to Dr. Robert Aigner
when I was examined by him. As well I discovered various tiny moles appearing
at various parts of my body including my arm pits, back and eye lids.
About (as best as I now recall) early
1996. My father decided to rent the house at 3014 NW 75th completely
(including the basement where I was staying) and bought a very small house for
me to live in at 1604 NW 70th.
At the time of my moving the number of brain torture
dream productions, radio seemed to increase, and I remember at the time feeling
the depths of loneliness and despondency. I now had two cats with me, Joseph
Skatey and his sister Neffy. The latter I adopted after I lost Jebo (naturally
from the same person from whom I got Joseph Skatey, and who was someone I knew
personally.)
In addition, I was daily (and nightly)
put through literally thousands of hours of dream productions made all the more
painful by my being alone as I was.
To be frank, I really was fed up with all
that was going on and others indifference (including my family), and would have
abandoned everything become homeless, gone to live in the woods, die, rather
than put up with the abuse I was being put through. The simple reason I didn’t
was there was no one who I could give my cats to take care of them for me, and
I felt (and still feel) an obligation to them, such that if the truth is told I
would not still be in Seattle (or perhaps even alive) but for them. This may
sound ridiculous to some – that is that I would endure such as I described for
the sake of some cats – but it’s the honest to God truth.
The following are some incidents or occurrences that
took place after moving to NW 70th and are taken from notes
or letters I had written about that time.
“On
about Nov. 8, 1996(?), I found in my office an envelope of photographs of two
young men carousing - drinking, smoking pot, and acting up. I never saw these
two before in my life. With these photographs was a note which read "Hey
Dickweeed, you better keep your door locked or some Mexican might come in and
steal your stuff." I call the Seattle Police. An officer, one P. Fox
came and took a report, and the photographs. He gave me a case number, namely
96-499535, and I have not heard back from SPD since…
“My
pickup truck suffered three flat tires with a nail driven into the center of
the tire within a three month period. Again, just a coincidence someone might
argue, only in prior to these events I might get a flat tire every few YEARS or
so. Also on at least one if not more occasions I have had a tire on my taxi cab
slashed by a knife (also about this same time.)
“By means of some technology I do not
claim to comprehend, these people have been able to inflict physical pain by
some remote means. Aside from what I have mentioned previously with respect to
head pains, I refer here to what I will call ‘zapping.’ On one occasion I was
inexplicably struck with an atrocious pain in my spine that literally paralyzed
me for 45 minutes, so that I could do little more than lie still in agony for
that period. A more frequent occurrence however is throat ‘zapping,’ by which
they cause a pronounced harshness in my larynx (or thereabouts).”
“In the past few months [i.e. early 2000]
I have had my home broken into, keys and wallet stolen. One instance will give
an illustration. My wallet was stolen from my coat pocket where I always keep
it. A few days later my house keys were missing, and when I went to the
location where I keep my back-up keys, there was my missing wallet there, with
the back-up keys missing! This is just one instance and is typical of the kind
of monkey-shines I have had to put up with.
“Needless to say, my life is made extremely painful,
and I live day after day with this ongoing torture and agony, and I consider it
nothing short of a sheer miracle that I have survived as long as I have. I
please then beg your help in this, both to rescue me, and at the same time put
these criminals, who have acted across state borders, behind bars where they
belong. Local officials and medical people are apparently easily manipulated by
these people so that despite my efforts on a number of occasions, I have been
able to get no help whatsoever. I have in effect been sold into a kind of
slavery, albeit at the cost of apparently a great deal of money to these
criminals -- though money does not seem to be at all any big hardship for
them.”
On one occasion I came home and found one
of my two cats, Joseph Skatey, severely traumatized, despite the fact that he
had been locked inside - as if someone had been thrashing him, such that when I
tried to pet him he at first snarled back at me as if in fear and distrust. Joe
was a very sociable sort of cat and I remember he would without hesitation
friendlily approach dogs, cats, squirrels, possums, raccoons and people (as
they might on a given occasion visit or otherwise show up around my home, so
that I suspect when his attackers came in he was probably at first friendly
toward them, not expecting or, based on previous experience, any reason to
suspect any harm.
Some different odd things happened while I was at 3014
NW 75th, among them a silver Timex watch my mother gave me, and
rosary I had since my first Holy Communion at St. Agnes in Rockville Centre NY
were stolen or went missing. It was also while at the same address that I had
my first experience of being held down physically by a demon (while lying in
bed.), so that for a few moments I could not get up. At the time, however, I
did not quite know that that is what it was, and did not spend much time
thinking about it.
As mentioned I was driving a cab for Gray top. At the time one of the dispatchers, Bob
Crouch, had started taking care of a stray tabby who came around the lot. To
make a long story short, Gray Top was sold to Yellow cab, and the lot was
abandoned. I quit the company and agreed to my father’s proposal to live on
disability (this was in September 1996.)
I just couldn’t both regularly work and stand the strain and regular
harassment of what these people were putting me through – though prior to this
the idea of living on disability was utterly repugnant to me. Some time before the company left the lot
the cat (who Bob Crouch called “Ducket”) had kitten and I returned to the empty
lot, every other day to feed them.
I came back to the lot to feed them, and again to make
a long story short, I ended up taking some of them home and adopted them. These
were:
Daniel Snugby[9]
Peanut Berry
Pete Jubilee
Huggin Coat
Spivey or as I also called him Jenkish Jenkington.
Covey Cub
I want to speak about these cats a little
bit. It might seem that I needed pets, but this really wasn’t true. The fact is
I felt sorry for their helpless situation, and that was why I adopt any and all
of the cats I did in the first place. Not that they didn’t benefit me and give
me company, it’s just that for practical purposes they would have been too much
a burden and inconvenience for me to have taken care of otherwise than out of
pity and compassion for them.
This said they really were all great
kids. Each had a distinctive personality, that quite simply, made them lovable.
And despite all the excruciating, agonizing, and unspeakable pain I went
through it was their suffering – that is they who were completely innocent –
that has and does outrage me most about what has happened, and for me
personally is the saddest part of all my story, though I fully understand that
for others they would might think me silly to think so. But more on these cats
later.
During much of this period (1998-2000) I completed my
Mabel Normand Book, and took up making wooden ship models from kits including
Corel’s Half Moon, Mamoli’s Golden Hind, and Blue Jacket’s U.S.S. Constitution
– all of which I completed. I also spent a lot of time playing Red Baron 3-D on
the computer, and for a while headed my own online combat squadron and we
participated in a few campaigns with other squadrons. As well, I spent much time reading various books, but my focus
was especially on philosophy, as I was at that time making plans to write Peithology.
Up to this time I had two spirit people experiences
but which left me mystified as to what they were. One [that is of seeing a
floating angel] I won’t discuss here as it is rather involved, but which I can
mention occurred New Years Eve of 1992-1993. But the other I will give a brief
description. In 1999 I think (though that’s about as exact at the moment as I
can give you). I was sitting in my chair one night and it was violently windy
outside I felt a very pronounced iciness in a part of my chair arm to my left,
and not just in the chair arm but to the area of my left, and then suddenly
smelled fruit that smelled like flowers or flowers that smelled like
fruit. Now I had read books such as
Peter Underwood’s about “real” ghost before so that my initial reaction was
scientific and I wanted to check to discern if what was caused was not being
brought about by some technical or technological trick. Without going into the
specifics I attempted to see what might be the source of the cold spot or the
smell by checking a nearby vent and whether the wind from outside was not
carrying something in, but didn’t discover anything in either instance.
Otherwise my first most vivid and palpable
manifestation of a spirit person or a “spirit world” (outside a sleeping dream)
was in April 2000.[10] Basically what happened was this, I was sitting at
home one late morning and this ghost came to me looking like Jesus, that is as
Jesus is commonly known to have looked in surface physical appearance, while at
the same time he presumed an air of authority with me, yet authority
accompanied by kindness and understanding. Some of the details of the basis of
his coming to converse with me I’d rather not get into because they concern
some personal feelings I had for someone.
But essentially this ghost told me that my wish toward this woman would
be fulfilled only I had to show my faith., and in order to do this he told me
to follow certain steps. His speaking was calm,[11] yet his manner was such that, looking at the
experience in retrospect, he wanted to hurry or shake me up, while again
appearing friendly and clam. The steps he ended up telling me were things like
“go to your car” (in my case my truck). Then I would go to the car, and then he
said go back and get your Bible. Essentially giving me instructions or
suggestions to do this odd little thing or other.
Once more, to make a longer story short, he told me to
drive my car from 1604 NW 70th St. east up 70th.[12] I was to follow what he was to tell me else if I did
not I would not be showing my faith. He did not speak of Jesus or things
Christian, but it was implied by his manner and appearance (or so I at the time
thought.) As I began up east on 70th he told me to speed up till I
was driving something 50 or more, in a 20 to 25 zone. Strangely and of course very
fortunately there did not seem to be any cars along the route so I otherwise
made it to the entrance to southbound Aurora Ave. N. at about N. 65th.
Here, again in what I described I followed his
instructions, I slowly drove out onto Aurora, the while chatting with him about
personal things in my life, he told me he wanted me now to drive down Aurora to
the Aurora bridge and drive off. To not do so would suggest my faith was less
than it should be, or words to this effect.
Though I naturally didn’t like the idea if he was going to insist on it
seemed something I had better do, and was to some extent prepared to do, but
when he saw I would do it, he had me just stop the car on Aurora about a couple
blocks south of the south bound exit about N. 65 and had me park the car in the
middle of the road (and as I recall giving me specific instructions as to the
angle of my tires, or something like this.).
After lingering there a few minutes talking with him,
I don’t remember exactly about what other that I was glad I didn’t have to
(drive down to) and drive off the bridge. He had me drive back up 65th,
telling me to (in effect) to floor it. I did what he said but naturally
expressed my discomfort at doing so. He told me it was all right, and that if I
had faith there was nothing to worry about. As I sped in the truck, going I guess about 70-90 mph (which was after all
a ridiculous speed under any circumstances along that mostly residential road.)
Although I did pass a moving car or two, that is moving in front of and
crosswise to me, mostly the way was – again very fortunately – free from
traffic, and pedestrians though I had one or two close calls of hitting
something stationary.
After we got back in the neighborhood of my house, he
had me drive down from 70th to NW 65th from 17th
NW and from NW 65th NW, going west to 19th, he told me to
drive down 19th, and basically crash my truck into a tree (located
along 19th at about the 6400 block and on the west side of the
road.) The tree was a small one, and I plowed right over it, while at the same
time doing major damage to the front of my truck.
After the truck had come to a halt in this fashion, he
told me to get out of the truck, and run back and forth up and down the block,
like a running coach would, that in future I would remember this day as
something of importance, indeed biblical like importance. I did as he
instructed, after which he told me bring foam or spit to my mouth. He then
instructed me to go to a specific house (I don’t now recall the exact address
but it was on the east side of 19th.) and ask for a towel to wipe
myself, as well as had me say something silly to the person there (who did give
me a towel as asked.) Again I did as the ghost said, but by this time, I was
just beginning to realize what trouble I had just got myself into. As well, by
this time people were coming out to inspect what happened, and before long
police and ambulance arrived. Some of the details that happened are a bit foggy
to me now, but basically they took me down to Swedish hospital (in Ballard),
and a police officer talked to me there., but I didn’t mention anything to him
about the ghost or pseudo-Jesus. I do remember that the police and ambulance
people seemed to act somewhat strangely as if they knew in advance of what was
going on, and it occurred to me about then that I had been set up. This said,
for some strange reason, I did not really think to condemn the ghost out of
hand, as I still wasn’t quite sure who he was, or if he was or represented who
he appeared to be and or represent (i.e. Jesus.) Not surprisingly, I felt very
stupid As I recall I think I said to the officer I just went crazy or something
like this as my explanation for what happened, but that I had no previous
history of such a thing (which I didn’t.) [13]
Again some of my memory is obscure on some (though not
all) of what happened. But as I recollect, I was uninjured and was released
from the hospital not long afterward. The ghost had left me about the same time
the police arrived. The thing was so
outrageous and hurtful to me that at first I didn’t think I would actually be
prosecuted, since I had been criminally set up (as I maintain) and I thought
for them to do more to me was unnecessary aggravation. But sure enough I did in
the following weeks receive notice to go to a hearing, where a date was set for
trial.
I will just observe in passing that it is typical of
Hell people to make light of their own wrong doing to insist on the letter of
the law with their enemies, and this is what I now found myself dealing with.
Without going into any great detail here (at least at
present), after some preliminary hearings I had a trial a few months later.
Each time they held a hearing and finally and
including the trial, my own case was reviewed last before all the other cases
present, so that by the time it came up the court room was empty of all but
only the most necessary people. To make a long story short, my trial was a
literal farce and a pre-arranged stage show. I remember the lawyer’s and judge
saying silly things back and forth which seemed like legal-ease, but which was
really a lot of nonsense intended to make me look foolish, and as if my hearing
or trial (in the given instance) was joke -- which it was. My court appointed
lawyer, Benny LaMandola, I felt then and believe now, and I am inclined to
believe as well the Judge Holyfield (off hand I believe that was his name
though I will have to check) had some idea of my being (at least in some way)
set up, and were participating in a charade. When at one hearing I said I
wanted to get my own attorney I was told by Judge Holyfield I had to stick with
LaMandola. At my actual trial I protested this, and accused LaMandola of being
crooked, saying I didn’t trust him for my attorney.[14] I tried to get the names of the court reports and
prosecution attorneys, for reference to them as witness of what was going on,
but the prosecution attorneys were never the same (though they did give me
their names), and at the actual trial only one of the court reporters or
“stenographers” (of the three or four there), named Yvonne, would give me
his/her name.[15]
I suppose one way I would describe the attitude of
LaMandola and the judge was that they wanted to get me out of there but on the
formal condition I see psychiatric people who could say I was not a threat to
anyone. Some people from King Country
Crisis Management eventually saw me, said I was ok, and that was essentially
the end of the matter.[16]
A week just before my final trial I slept for four whole
days (or at least given to think I had.)
In other words I went to sleep on Thursday and woke up on Sunday,
something that has never happened to me before or since.
Meanwhile, the
ghost had started making regular visits to me. Among the kind of things he was
telling me was that I was to be the new Jesus (as if to replace “him,” i.e. the
ghost.) It didn’t take much resistance to attempted mind control, even under
such circumstances, for me to realize this was ridiculous, and I told him so,
but still he persisted.
It was about this time that all kinds of different
spirit people came to visit me, but mostly this ghost who turned out to be
“Simon the magician” or one of the “Simon the Magicians” referred to in my “New
Treatise on Hell.” The events of this period are so bizarre I will forbear
attempting to describe them at present, other than to mention that Magus, Gyro
and some other spirit people were regularly engaged in mocking, making fun of
and harassing me, while at the same time appearing to be friendly.
There are still
possibly some reading this who might think that these spirit people were
somehow divinely sent. Let me be emphatic then, yet without addressing too
closely the question, that I think these spirit people, generally speaking, and
those I have dealt with are basically hoodlums who want attention and who mooch
or leech on people, emotionally, psychologically and socially. Though sometimes
they will pretend (to me rather unconvincingly) to possess some higher wisdom
and understanding of things really they are just con-artists who use people for
their own selfish purposes, and no spirit person is deserving more respect than
anyone else unless it is clear they are conducting themselves honestly and
morally. At the same time, it is wrong to assume that those employed by Hell
all look like devils, when in truth certain of them can make themselves look or
appear as if they were Heavenly. Another thing that makes them persuasive to
people is their persistence. If Hell people could be said to possess excellence
it might be said to be in this category. However, I myself attribute this to
their arrogance, desperation, and hopelessness. Though such persistence is
bound to make a strong impression on a person, one must never see it as
justification or excuse for how they act.
As I stated the
many of the things I went through during this period of meeting spirit people
and conversing with them was extremely weird, and I don’t know that it is
especially worth anyone’s while at this juncture to go into, though perhaps
later I will think differently or some will be curious. I will mention though a
few occurrences that happened. I continued to be plagued by various kinds of
assaults, including (in so special order):[17]
* making a mess of my house, particularly with
witchcraft dirt
* shrinking clothes so that clothes became
un-wearable.
* soiled my chair by (apparently) placing
a drunk transient in it with bad hygiene.
* Did things physiologically to prevent me from going
to bathroom.
* My computer was regularly and incessantly assaulted
with hacking, viruses, and both obscene and gibberish e-mail. I have logs from
my firewall program listening some of the ISP phone number location my computer
has been attacked from. I have had prank e-mails sent out using my e-mail
address, and have had e-mails bounced back to my mail box (i.e. as
undeliverable) which I hadn’t even sent, but which had my e-mail address as the
sender.
* Removed Amnesty International sticker from my
vehicle.[18]
* A full bag of groceries was stolen out of my kitchen
* Dirty coat covered over with witchcraft dirt left in
my house
* My communications continued to deteriorate,
receiving even less e-mail, phone calls and regular mail.
* House plumbing interfered with
* Wallet and keys stolen a number of times, had to get
my credit card replaced 3 or 4 times in a six month period.
* Cat brought in a large bug, such as you might find
in a Central American rain forest or remote southern desert. It was an inch to
two inches long, and looked very strange. Being so out of place as it was, I
remember I felt sorry for it.
* Forks – all but one -- stolen. This has happened
twice.
* I would find the lace in my sneaker given over to
one side too much, so that one end of the lace was much longer than the end
opposite to it. But more than this a knot was made at a point in the lace just
outside the upper lace hole. In other words the problem could not be fixed
unless you unlaced the knot someone had tied there
* Locks broken on my pickup.
* “transmogrifier” (as I called it at the time), or a
feeling like a tight rope around my heart, and later other similar internal
contractions and stranglings of various kinds carried out by sprites.
* Papers, records stolen
Now one story involving spirit people I will tell here
in order to provide information on a certain phenomena or experience which some
people might have done to them and be taken surprise by.
My present home is on a little hillock above the
street so that the garage is below the house. On sunny days I will sometimes
lie down and taken in the sun on the roof of this garage. At the time of which
I am speaking, Gyro and Magus were telling me I had to make a deal and work
with “Microsoft.” On that same occasion, I was waiting to face an inquiry
(really as it turned out inquisition) by people from the House of Israel. As
these matters were being variously discussed between these people in myself, I
think I refused something at one point, and while lying on the garage roof
sunning myself, and after talking casually with some of these people, some
“demons” shouted in my headed for about 5 to 10 minutes, berating me, Their
voices sounded like Arthur Brown and really were incredibly belligerent and
hostile. Because at that time I was still somewhat (though not entirely)
believing of these people, it made the experience more painful to me because I
wasn’t sure if I wasn’t doing something wrong.
Now being without a car, the truck basically being
given up on as too damaged, I could not go to feed the homeless cats at the
Grey Top lot in Magnolia as I had for the prior 3-4 years. I tried one very early morning riding a bike
up to Magnolia, but found this too onerous. I then tried the bus, but even this
was too much for me, especially since the Hell attacks involving spirit people
were reaching their height. Thereafter I could go to feed them no more, and
what became of Mother Kitty Kates[19] and all her kids (plus some other cats) I don’t know,
but naturally I felt very sad about it.
Yet, as mentioned I managed to adopt six cats from the
lot by that time, and they were:
Daniel Snugby[20]
Peanut Berry
Pete Jubilee
Huggin Coat
Spivey or as I also called him Jenkish Jenkington.
Covey Cub
These were in addition to Jospeh Skatey (who had been
with me most of the while since moving to Ballard in the early nineties) and
his sister Neffy McKee. It is easier for me to tell what happened to the cats
(who I call “the kids”) each one at a time, and therefore I will do so, though
what I give here is for practical purposes very brief, and a much longer story
could be told about all of them. They are given in the order I lost them.
* Daniel
Snugby (kidnapped or disappeared)
Daniel was the first I took home, and lost him before
adopting any of the others. I was in real tears after that happened. He was
like a gray and white cuddly doll.
* Peanut Berry (orange brown striped tabby)
was a fragile runt sort of cat, who was violently
poisoned, and had to be put to be put to sleep after a prolonged seizure too
great for his tiny frame. Emerald City Emergency clinic, on Stone Way in
Fremont, did a test when I brought him in and found he had a high toxicity
level, confirming that he had in fact suffered from poisoning of some kind. I
remember I used to pick burrs out of his fur, as he was rather a helpless sort,
and couldn’t or didn’t do so himself. I buried him out near Sultan in the
woods.[21]
* Pete Jubilee (furry, Black, brown mix, with white in
his mouth and feet)
A heroic and extremely cute little cat[22] who tried to protect some kittens he had. I say he
had because these Hell people made him pregnant by means of a sort of sex
change operation. I checked his sex when he was very small, so I know he was
male. He ultimately had to be put to sleep because the goon sprites kept
attacking him, and the kittens also, who were finally taken down to the Seattle
Animal Shelter. At first Pete took the kittens by the neck from outside the
house to under a neighbor’s shed next door. One time I went to check them and
the poor kittens had sprites in them making them look snake like, and
possessed, like something out of Stephen King. Of course, it was not the poor
kittens fault, and they were made to suffer in various ways, including not
being able to go the bathroom. (Ballard
Animal Hospital on Leary Way)
* Spivey (gray
striped tabby)
He was cripple in one leg and had to hobble around.
Because he had difficulty moving he seemed like a cat that thought, and there
was a certain intelligence, if goofiness somewhat in his eyes and look, and
behavior, and would sort of yowl somewhat expressively rather than meow as
such.
For years he had survived out on the lot like the
others, but his case he had difficulty
walking, and there were a numbered of times he would come out for his
food even if there was searing north winter wind blowing in, and I would see
him fall on the rocks or in some icy puddle because his legs couldn’t properly
carry him, He had lived outside for so
long that when I finally captured and brought him into my home, he seemed
beside himself to be able now to live on a carpet, and have regular feeding.
Because he was odd the other cats did not always take to him, though he was
always friendly to them, if sometimes somewhat obstreperous, and sometimes I
would see them play wrestling together.
Like Joseph Skatey he too could not go to the bathroom
and his stomach accordingly bulged. In his pain from the sprites he sometimes
seemed to specially appeal to me for attention and I would try to pet him and
console him, but really they were so wearing him down that I had to have him put
to sleep. The Hell people did a particularly vicious prank on Spivey, which for
convenience I will refrain from telling it or else save for another occasion.
(Crown Hill Veterinary Hospital)
* Joseph Skatey. (gray striped tabby) and * Huggin
Coat (a dark brown yet almost blonde very furry tabby)
Was regularly vomiting, could not go to the bathroom,
had sprites in him, so to spare further unnecessary suffering I had him put to
sleep. Because he had been with me so long, Joe was just about my best friend
in the world. The same with Huggin Coat, he too was put to sleep to spare him
further Hell people attacks (after about 2 or 3 months worth that is) Both of
whom were extremely loving and friendly, Joe being a sort of the chief cat of
the whole house, and Huggin Coat being most serene and affectionate. (Seattle
Animal Shelter in the case of Joseph Skatey, and Ballard-Greenwood Veterinary
Clinic on 15th NW with Huggin Coat)
This left me finally with
* Covey Cub
(a mostly black tabby with white mouth an d feet) and
Neffy (small brown tabby.) Joseph Skatey’s sister. Part of the reason they
survived is that they kept to themselves, and went out for long stretches,
whereas the others were either
homebodies or just babies.
I still to this day have Neffy. Covey Cub was
assaulted for weeks by the sprites till he couldn’t eat, and finally they
violently choked him to death. Like Pete Jubilee, he was sort of a hero. In his
case, he actually fought the sprites back to some extent, on one occasion
trying to pull them with his teeth from Jenkish Jenkington’s (Spivey) back (of
his neck.) Before Covey was specifically targeted these people had stolen some
photographs I had of him, and afterward I was repeatedly told “Covey Cub is not
someone you want to know,” which basically is an ominous declaration that
whoever is referred to (in this case Covey Cub) doesn’t have long to live.
For most of 2000, I attended weekly mass (which I
sometimes attended on a week day rather than a Sunday) at St. Alphonsus
Ligouri, Ballard’s Catholic church. Earlier on I went to Blessed Sacrament in
the University District in the early and mid nineties, where at one point I
spoke about my problems with Father Michael Sweeney there. Bt the commute was too costly going to
Blessed Sacrament from Ballard so I naturally went to St. Alphonsus which was
more local.[23]
Father James Gandrau, then pastor of St. Alphonsus’ at
that time, refused to come to visit me and speak with me for over eight months
despite regular monthly entreaties. He simply acted like he didn’t care and
when I tried to ask why, gave some casual and not very convincing, or very well
disguised excuses. I had some other strange experiences relating to going to
St. Alphonsus’ but which I won’t go into here, except to mention that a number
of times while going to receive communion I have been handed Eucharist that in
one instance was heavily perfumed, and in a another part of it was obviously
bitten off of (though this wafer wasn’t something that came from the priest’s
altar bread. ) At another time, when sipping the communion wine I was the last
in line to receive it and when I did I tasted an illness, like a very bad cold,
in pronounced, concentrated form. Of course one might infer the cold or disease
might or would have come accidentally from another parishioner. But at the time
I was not inclined to think so, because of what seemed the circumstances of the
service, and because the taste of the disease was so obvious and concentrated
that again (at the time) I felt I was deliberately poisoned. If I was mistaken
in the conclusion this was only after I sipped, and prior to that I had no
thought whatsoever of being poisoned, nor would such have occurred to me as
possible in church.
I have also attempted to reach Archbishop Alexander
Brunett of the Archdiocese of Seattle a number of times however I believe my
mail to him was deliberately intercepted and treated as something he would not
find of interest, such that I received an indifferent response from his office,
for which I still have copies of “his” letters.
In late October 2000 in an effort to find someone who
would help me and to also satisfy my conscience that I did something to try and
tell people what was going on I went to the corners of 2nd and Union
and 2nd and University in Downtown Seattle, stood on corners there
and (after three separate occasions) handed out at least 200 or more of the
following leaflets. I received no response on this other than a couple
sarcastic e-mails which at the time and in retrospect came from some people
working or allied to “the gang” that was harassing, torturing and tormenting
me. To this day it baffles me why after all I have written and sent out about
my situation that n one has come to my home to see me as I have repeatedly
requested.
Below is the leaflet I handed out on the streets of
Seattle in late October 2000. I’ll grant you it sounds rather brash and
sensationalistic but for its purpose, and given the time it was written, this
was I think pardonable. ‘Gomez” followed me on these occasions, as if to offer
advice or support, and I recall my attitude toward him at that time was
becoming more and more skeptical of all of these spirit people (with the
understanding that the underling sort of people could in no way compare in
culpability to the chiefs.)
“Saving Seattle: Truth is the Solution
“Why am I wearing this badge -- a yellow star made of
cloth -- the symbol of betrayal, brutality and deception? While we think of such problems pertain to
people of others countries and other eras, the truth of the matter is in the
past decade or so, Seattle has fallen under a strain of the same moral and
spiritual illness which helped bring about the tragedy and suffering which this
yellow star represents.
“If it sounds strange to say, it is only because much
of what has been going on is carried
out in the darkness, unknown to most of the general public. While our problems
cannot be literally compared with those happenings of over 50 years ago, our
troubles are in their way very malignant.
“Bribery, blackmail, extortion, propaganda, thefts,
techno-lunacy, interference with communications, put-on jobs, and hocus pocus
have become the primary weapons used to make a mockery of our police and
judicial system and rob us of our God given rights and liberties. Our persons,
let alone our property, cannot even be protected from violence, thanks to the
machinations of corporately sponsored organized crime acting in concert with
the both willing and unwilling cooperation of city, county and state
government. Using tactics of secrecy and deception, corporate hoodlums have
ruined people's lives, and families, and brought about a generally degradation
of Seattle's quality of life in general. These people, reportedly connected
with Microsoft and Dreamworks, among some others, have rendered well-meaning
civic leaders and citizens helpless to cure these problems that plague the
city, and people are left at the mercy of a ruinous despotism, that without
mincing words, is completely mad and out of its mind.. Mind control, druggings,
deliberately giving diseases, intrusive high technology are some of the tactics
used, their very outrageousness is what helps to keep them secret from people.
People who would tell the truth about these things are discredited, threatened,
framed, and blackmailed thus leaving the rest of us at the mercy of corporate
gangsters who want to live the good life off the backs of hardworking decent
people.
“I myself am a victim of very vicious violence and
torture carried out secretly for the past 7 years. Druggings, burglaries,
poisonings, deliberately giving diseases, psychological warfare techniques of
various kinds have been used on me. My pets have been murdered. I have tried
before contacting numerous authorities and others to tell them about what is
going on, but have been effectively ignored and denied any assistance. The purpose
of this campaign of harassment and bullying I have been subject to has been
designed to discredit and debilitate
me. Although a scholar and a published author and historian, I am poor and have
been systematically isolated by these people, and thus have been hard put to
get any help.
“Recently I was railroaded for a crime of which I was
really the victim. It is admittedly a strange story to tell,, but suffice to
say I was set up to look crazy, with the obvious intention of discrediting me
should I attempt to report or bring a law suit relating to what has been going
on. The legal proceedings have been such a mockery and farce that they can more
likened to theater than to anything remotely legitimate. It is so bad, that the
persons behind this savaging of the law have absolutely no morals or scruples,
and don't hardly even bother making their lies sound believable. The case has
been dismissed, as far as I know, but it does not change the fact that our
legal system is and has been used to perpetrate crimes in order to assist
corporate thieves and murders.
“Those people who have sold out our city, and cowardly
given in, are a complete shame and a disgrace, and are all the more foolish
because the money and seeming security they obtain really only debases themselves.
There is said to be some internal effort to solve these problems, but if so it
is done secretly and what is really needed is an open and candid community
addressing of the problem. It is unlikely that we can expect dramatic change
anytime soon, it is a very, very difficult kind of quandary. Yet in the
meanwhile it is well that people speak frankly about what they know, become
stronger in their virtue and keep a resolute and honest faith in God.
“Please, if possible, keep in touch with me if you can.
I have been made isolated, am not wealthy, and it is not impossible that
something could "happen to me" by my speaking out like this.”
[This was accompanied with my name, address, phone
number and e-mail.]
In composing and going over what I have here I have
thus far largely refrained from speaking about the spirit people yet at the
time their incessant harassment of me was very much a part of what else I’ve
recounted or described. In fact they could really and justly be consider the
cause of any of these things, whether in inflicting pain on me themselves or
having someone else do it. For this reason, I have normally in recent years
taken or have tried to take an attitude of greater leniency towards others
wrong doing in all this because I realize and appreciate how difficult it would
be for most people to fend off and overcome the (often) sophisticated
manipulation and bullying of ruthless and high powered spirit people, such as
(the so-called) “Simon the Magician.”
As yet I have not describe much of what they did and
how they acted. Part of the reason for this is that I still have to deal with
these people, and as a result try as much as possible to forget them. Not
because I find it impossible to think about or recollect them, but there is
such a thing as too much, and some of these people (thinking
particularly of Magus”) are notorious for seeking attention and wanting you to
think about them and or what they are doing (as in say their gossip or
scheming.) Consequently I don’t plan on writing about the spirit people at this
time unless necessary. But, as I said previously, I may change or modify my
position on this in future and decide to tell more.
Yet speaking generally they were led by some main
warlock ghost or other, who is
typically referred to as “Simon the Magician” but in truth it is not always
clear who the given ringleader of the moment is. Typically, they have and do
subject me to brain radios while regularly sending over demons or sprites to
annoy or defile me in some way (say by just their presence in or next to me.)
For odd “seasons” these people will be extremely cruel and do the most sadistic
things. At other seasons, they will be cruel but in a routine way without
malice. Other times they are annoying. At yet other times they are very cruel
and annoying (both.) But above all, and in all, I find the group I have been
dealing with tiresome and a glorified nuisance (aside from a number of them
being heinous criminals.)
Some spirits that have worked for “The Monster Maker”
(my name for their greatest leader) and “Simon” are not so bad and in many ways
likable. And while I will often curse the head ghosts, I’m usually indulgent of
their slaves and dupes (even though they did some awful thing or things
themselves) because they are exactly that slaves, are often quite wretched, and
obviously do not have much say in much of anything, and are often themselves
“possessed” or infested by other spirits and demons.
The “Baby Jane” Hudson character of the film with that
name in the title, is a very good example of a pronouncedly “Hell” influenced
person (whether spirit or a regular person), and could actually be studied as
such (though obviously a fictional character.) She is a good illustration of
someone who had spent years listening and following directions or advice from a
Simon the Magician who followed her around who explained to her how things
“really were” and she believing him, and he sending various demons in her to
better take charge of her thoughts, feelings, and reactions. She meanwhile would
keep to herself any knowledge of the Simon in question or spirit people
generally claiming ignorance. It is not difficult on this basis I think to
construct a useful character sketch of the sort of spirit person who would do
what he did to her and why he did it, bearing in mind that someone down the
road did something similar to him. He could inform her of any number of secret
or difficult to find out things and she (as hideous as she might appear to
people) might be able to obtain great power over others by this information.
Not necessarily because she by herself desired great power, but possibly
because the ghost did, or some combination.
One thing that
is also important to emphasize is that these high powered spirit people need
money to conduct their schemes, operations, and organizations just as regular
people do, and they ultimately get this money and ability to interact with
regular people through and by means of regular people.[24] People have to be paid when it comes to spirit people
just as with regular people. Also understand that if, for example, a
philanthropic group has an organization to aid homeless youth, the Hell people
might just as likely actually have one to ruin them, and with the same
corresponding staff and bureaucracy, or at least for practical purposes one is
justified thinking so. Further worth mentioning, these people can take the side
of any argument, and pose as any party – often times convincingly, depending
upon their audience.
Despite all I have written (both here and elsewhere)
there are still people who would rather believe these spirit people than my own
explanation of these things. For example, some people I have dealt with no
matter how appalling or atrocious the things I describe are will bush them
aside as “no big deal.” One of the reasons such people take this attitude (at
least for some of them) is that some people can’t help but see spirit people as
superior and naturally more wise than regular people, and (in a given instance)
possibly have been told that I don’t understand how things really are. For
example I might come to someone relating what I have been through, say
poisoning, and they will react either to make a joke of it or else take an
attitude that I am somehow to blame for what happened. They might not express
these attitudes explicitly, and instead on the surface show concern, while just
below the surface expressing this indifference or else disdain. Now some people
will react this way normally. But I know in point of fact that for more than a
few I have dealt with, it is because they listen to one of these ghosts or
“Simon the Magicians” (or perhaps someone else acting on his behalf.) Typically
these people, if not entirely irrational, are capable of reasoning of only the
most superficial and limited sort. They don’t reason they just “know.” And as
far as the kind of people I am describing and have dealt with are, they “know”
better (than me) because they listen to these spirit people – perhaps have been
listening to one of them for many years.[25]
Were it possible to actually reason with such people (which
with most of them it frankly isn’t, including some highly educated people I
have spoken with) I would respond to what I see or understand to be their
arguments this way.
1. “Although you have been put through a painful
ordeal, you are more honored (than have suffered) by such attention from such
important people (i.e. the spirit people.)”
For all I have written on this subject I frankly wish
I rather had not met any of these people (though granted, as I have stated,
some of them aren’t so bad, so for them taken by themselves this remark
does not apply.) As a matter of fact I feel cheated having had to spend so much
time with them, while at the same time having had to miss seeing and dealing
with other (regular) people who, by far, I would rather have seen instead.
These spirit people when they obviously manipulate and or force themselves on
others are in truth, and at best, parasites who, as they see it, have nothing
better to do with their time than leech on, use, and rob others. Yet they might
do this while pretending to be divinely authorized to do so, and support this
claim with amazing heavenly visions and or displays of extraordinary powers
(such as predictions that come true after many years, deja vu or causing or
seeming to cause an earthquake or the weather to change.)
As far as I am
concerned these visions and displays of which I have seen many are phony
copies, con-artists tricks, or the results of “technology” as yet unknown to
us. “By their fruits ye shall know them.” And this is what I go by -- not these
visions, shows or manifestations of say cherubic faces, glowing angels and
heavenly lights, golden clouds of heaven, and more. Not only ages-old spirit
people and sorcerers, but regular magicians and Hollywood special effect
artists can achieve many of these same effects, through technology and other
sorts of perceptual manipulation. Power, by itself, says nothing. It is
character or moral character that says everything. Unfortunately, and in my
experience, such a view is apparently in the minority. Ordinarily I take the
view that organized Hell is made up of phenomenally wealthy spirit people, who
obtained such wealth from assorted crime, murder, terror, and deception, and
who use such wealth and power to persuade people as to their legitimacy as
divinity, or else legitimacy as supreme power.
2. “You will
receive a great reward for your suffering, and therefore it (the suffering and
injustice) is of no great consequence.” This by the way is a great “Simon the
Magician” kind of argument.
While as a
Christian one would of course see a certain truth to this, coming from devils
or devil influenced people it is not at all the same thing. For one thing I
don’t need to suffer and pay for what is already mine. Yet these spirit people
think nothing of charging others for what is already theirs (in this case
mine.)
My attitude toward these spirit people is quite simply
“who needs them?” The reality is I didn’t need them (at least those that
afflicted me) for anything, and the fact is I was basically sold out to feed
some powerful or influential spirit person who others see as someone of great
importance, but who in reality is really nothing more than a monster or
vampire, or a spirit person “Montgomery Burns,” yet one who can dress in
himself (in the eyes of some) as if he were divine, or if not divine, as such,
he is seen as representing a higher order or power.
Someone might
say I only have seen the bad spirit people and not the good ones (the
assumption being that the person making this argument has seen the good
spirit people), and therefore my view is distorted. The fact is I have seen all
kinds of “heavenly” visions and beings, some of them actually somewhat
convincing. But glowing ethereal figures, large winged angels, saints, bearded
prophets, “divine” lights, rapturous religious feelings – these don’t prove anything, and I know
better than full well that the devil can re-produce any of them. What he has a
harder time with is justice, honest rationality, and long term, consistent
moral character and integrity. Understand that Hell employed spirit people can
be made to seem kind, friendly, understanding, benevolent, wise, generous and
supportive, and only a thinking person is going to see past the charade. For others, they simply do not think, and
take such shows or impostures as the
real thing, though in fairness it should be kept in mind that mind control of
some sort might be being used on them.
These spirit
people are supposed by some to be so great and unchallengeable, yet:
a.) they
operate in secret and have others do so as well. Why the need for secrecy,
indeed outright fraud and willful deception? To teach some higher lesson? In all my years dealing with them, I have
taken no especially great lesson from these people other than to discover that
people can be a lot more rotten than one would otherwise have imagined
possible.
b) all this past decade I have been combating them and
their hench-people (or “Renfields”) they have been the ones with money all this
time, and people to assist them – not me. I had no money (worth speaking of),
and had no one to talk to let alone assist me. Yet I have managed to survive
“survivor island” now for over a decade despite innumerable and incessant
attacks of various kinds.
I have received good advice or a useful tip from a
spirit person (including “Simon the Magician”), but such as was no better as
any I could have received from a regular person, and in any case the benefit of
it, all in all, was relatively negligible. No, if I possessed any wisdom in all
these years it came from books and my upbringing (which included the church.)
Someone who gets most or a large part their understanding of things from
conversant spirit people I would say is someone who is, or is not much better
than, a lunatic.[26]
Yet observe,
many corners and quarters of society are run or managed by such people, that is
“regular” people who listen to spirit people, hence many of the problems, often
times appalling and atrocious, we have.
Not least is the
point in all thus that others have and are victimized by such people and such
experiences, both people and animals. They in many instances could not possibly
have the say or understanding I have in relating these things so that in
telling these things about my own experience I hope it is very clear that many
others could say similar or perhaps relate even worse done to them or those
they’ve known. But how on earth will they explain and then get people to listen
to them about such people and such
things? It can be so bad that at times it seems one needs a certificate
signed by the criminal himself and publicly notarized before law enforcement or
others will take evidence from you on the crimes involving these criminals,
spirit or otherwise.
Assaults of various kinds continued on me and or my
home of which the following are some that I had recorded at the time and taken
from a letter I sent out in March 2001:
“For the past year I have been subject to
quite a number of instances of ongoing harassment, burglary, and on a few
occasions food tampering. It is not possible to get into the why and what this
is all about here just now. But suffice to say the purpose of the persons
harassing me is essentially political, with the aim of intimidating and
discrediting me, lest I bring law suits and get started criminal investigations
against them. These persons are very wealthy and powerful, and are extremely ruthless
and amoral. They are so ‘far gone,’ that for them doing the ‘wrong thing’ is
doing the ‘right thing.’ That there are aspects of my story which, are quite
bizarre and incredible there's no denying. Yet at the same time, these are not
so beyond evidence or explanations as my opponents like to casually and lazily
claim. More, however, on the overall scenario later.
“In the meantime, what follows are,
essentially, the most recent events relating to this ongoing nightmare.
“Somehow or other the perpetrators found
ways of getting into my house, 1604 NW 70th St., and got hold of or
made copies of my house keys. This was not all that impossible for on a few
earlier occasions I had left the back window open when I had gone out, and it
would have been a relatively easy matter of their climbing through there to get
in, and thus get hold of a spare key from a drawer. At one point I did get new
locks installed (a number of years ago), nevertheless their ability to get to
my keys was somehow repeated again (probably from my absent mindedly leaving
that back bathroom window open on a subsequent occasion).
“In about the middle of last summer, I
discovered that my wallet was missing. I called the Seattle Police. They came,
took a report, and gave me a case number. This case number incidentally was
later deleted from my computer files, and when I made inquiry with the police
about it some months afterwards, I was told their was no report of any such
case. A short time following this incident, I found that my house keys were
missing. When I looked at a place behind some books on a bookshelf were I hid
my spare keys, I found the missing wallet! The main set of keys themselves
turned up -- open to view -- on a table (or couch) a number of days later.
Needless to say, I did not somehow negligently put my wallet in that location.
Invariably I keep my wallet in my coat pocket or on a specific spot on a book
shelf where I know I will find it.
“Oct. 20 or 21, 2000, on the lawn of the
east side of my house, I found a mutilated squirrel. What was especially
unusual about this was that he was surgically mutilated and deliberately
skinned with his bowels turned inside out. I called the police to report this.
Officer D. W. Umpleby, badge #4852, came in response. At first he surmised a
dog might have done such a thing, but upon inspection concurred with me that it
some person had deliberately done it, given the way the squirrel was sliced up.
Even so, he said he would not take a report as he did not consider it as a
crime as such. He did say however he would enter it in his regular log book.
“Oct. 27, 2000, Upon using some food
items, bottles of ketchup and mustard, I found them poisoned with a disease,
like a concentrated "cold," (like something from the Center for
Disease Control.) You could unmistakably taste, even smell it in the ketchup
and mustard. This had actually happened before, though I did not call in about
it. I contacted the police, having the bottles as evidence. Officer Dolan came to take my account. He
said he saw no evidence of burglary, and refused to take a report. When I
offered the ketchup and mustard bottles as evidence, he said I would have to go
somewhere like the University of Washington laboratories to have it tested as
the police had no facilities or means to do it.
“Oct. 30-31, 2000. Between 12 am to about 3 am, I was poisoned
with something, causing indescribable and excruciating pains in my chest and
ribs. During the day I had only some water and some coke to drink. As best as I
can tell, it was the coke that had been tampered with. During the course of
this seizure, I vomited and up came some yellow power, like barbiturates or
something. The experience of it all was so awful, I literally thought I was
going to die.[27]
Later in the morning I called the police, and an Officer E. R. Haggerty,
#6413, arrived. After telling him what happened he said there was no evidence
and would not take a report. I requested he at least log it in his book, while
at the same time I gave him a written account I had of what had been going with
respect to the harassment and assaults against my person and home.
“My home had been got into on other
occasions which I did not report. Among other instances I have had my computer
tampered with, and whole programs deleted. Documents tampered with or removed.
I build ship models and have had small pieces of the ship I was working on
removed, in a vandalistic way. Even more absurdly, on an occasion in early past
summer, I had an entire recycling bin stolen from me, with its contents! About
3 months later, this same bin turned up in my garage, with the exact same
contents still in it. Needless to say, I had been in the garage any number of
times in the intervening period and the garbage can size container was not in
there.
“Just recently, some unknown party
infected my computer with a virus which my Norton Anti-virus detected and
quarantined: Bloodhound.W32.EP (memory resident, full stealth, triggered event,
encrypting, polymorphic). I still have
the file if any one is interested.
“Lastly, here worthy of note, the traffic sign in the
middle isle of 16th NW and NW 70th right near my home (a few times it was the
sign at 17th and NW 70th ), has been repeatedly knocked
down by someone driving a four wheeler or something over it. This has happened
at least a half dozen times these past six months. The police say they don't
know who has been doing this. Although I cannot categorically state this vandal
is connected with the people who have been attacking me, it is perfectly in
keeping with their arrogant, lunatic and intimidating ways to have been
responsible for such a thing.”
In the following described series of events, which I
reproduce here also as I essentially sent it out to various people in early
2001. One of my main purpose in attempting to seek legal addressing of the case
was not so much to seek justice or recompense but by doing so initiate a formal
investigation and thereby bring out the criminals. Unfortunately, to make the
long story short, as earlier no one could or would help me.
“On Monday Jan. 15, 2001 Martin Luther King Day, 6:45
am, I was cooking olive oil, and managed to spill some on my hand, thus
seriously burning it. I called 911 and
they sent out Fire people, three men with a fire truck. It was my idea to have
it merely treated with some spray or powder.
The fire person ostensibly in charge,
a young to middle age blonde male (I did not get his name), upon examining it
said I needed to go have the hand treated at a local Ballard medical facility.
I told him that, under the circumstances, I would rather not and just wanted
them to put something on it if they would, my reason being I simply did not
feel the injury warranted it. At this point, he started accusing me of being
crazy, asking if I was on medication -- merely because I preferred not to go
down to get my hand treated. I told them thanks any way, and would just call
Walgreens and get something. I at no time acted improperly, frantically or
irrationally. Part of my concern was that I, not being a person with much
money, I wanted to avoid any unnecessary expense, plus I frankly did not care
for the derisive tone in which he was speaking to me.
“I then went back inside my house, after which they
proceeded to call the police and a Harborview ambulance. Five police officers
showed up, lead by officer Sgt. Jerry Harris. I told these men, as I told the
firemen, that I preferred not to make such a fuss, and instead would rather
purchase something from the drug store for it if the fire people themselves
could or would not treat it. Sgt. Harris insisted on the other hand that I go
to have it treated as I was told. I didn't like the idea but seeing they were
going to force the matter I submitted, while formally protesting, to go along.
At no time was I physically resisting, or acting over-emotionally about. I
merely expressed my disagreement with there being made trouble over the matter.
Nevertheless, I went along with what they said. I was taken down to the
ambulance waiting outside and ushered inside it. Before, and while the
ambulance was being made ready, I told officer Harris I wanted to make a formal
report of what had been going on with respect to the aforementioned burglaries
etc., (since the subject came up. He told me to contact him later and he would
talk with me.
“As I went into the vehicle, the ambulance people of
American Medical Response (AMR), a young woman and man, after a few words with
the fire person in charge, told me they would have to tie me up. Naturally I
objected to this a quite unnecessary. Again I was in no wise at any time
physically, raising my voice or verbally resisting (other than some laconic
remarks) about my being forced to go to the hospital. When I asked why they
needed to tying me to the bed, i.e. my right ankle and wrist, and on whose
authority they were directed to this measure, they said it was merely a precaution
for my own safety, the male ambulance driver at the time remarking he ‘didn't
want to work at McDonalds.’ On whose authority I was ‘tied down’ has yet to be
determined. Again, though I formally protested, I peaceably acquiesced to their
demand. At present, it might however, be surmised that the ambulance people
took this measure upon their own responsibility. In passing, it should be noted
that sometime later I was told by someone who knew about these things that
unless a person was being taken to be committed, there was no justifiable
reason for tying someone down in an ambulance like that. My being tied down
like that by the way, only increased greatly the physical pain -- from my hand
-- I was already in, as I could not use my one hand to help hold the injured
one. After a leisurely drive -- no sirens -- down to Harborview (not, you will
note, the Ballard medical facility mentioned by the fire dept. person). I was
brought into the emergency wing. A supervising woman doctor was attending some
people there and she asked when we came in what this was about. They told her I
had burned. I stated I was formally there against my will, and was desirous of
not incurring any medical expense. She said, "if its only a burned hand,
he doesn't have to stay here -- he can
go." Someone then whispered something to her, and after a pause she inexplicably directed to them to have me
taken to a hallway for me to wait to have to be treated. At the time, I
politely reminded those people that I was their against my wishes, and did not
want to be there, though was no in any way making a scene about it.
“I was wheeled in the ambulance stretcher to another
bed lying in a hospital corridor. They transferred me to this bed and again
tied my ankle and wrist to the bed. Again I politely but firmly protested,
without improperly resisting. Sitting in my bed I took from my pocket a rosary
I had with to pray while I waited. A security person, (upon being asked said
his name was "Sinclair") took my rosary from me saying it could be used
to physically attack and injure someone. (He was referring to a 2 cm medal it
contained depicting on one side the Virgin Mary and on the other Jesus.) I
protested this silly measure aloud to the people there, but did not have my
rosary returned to me until some 10 minutes or so later.
“After lying there for about a half hour, my hand was
subsequently treated, and the job well-done by a doctor. The hospital people
themselves behaved rationally, were very kind and did not see why they thought
I needed to be treated that way.
“Some days after the incident I called Sgt. Harris to
talk with him about what had been going on, as per our mutual remarks the day
of the ambulance business. him. He agreed to set a time. There was some phone
tag getting in touch with him and back, but after about a week or so had passed
he agreed to arrange a time to come see me. It was arranged that I call him a
certain day. I did, he wasn't available, and so I left a message. He did not,
however, call me back. A few days later I was contacted by a King County Crisis
Commitment Services person, a Bill Bruzas. They said Sgt. Harris had called
them to evaluate me While Sgt. Harris later said he talked to these people, he
denied actually directing them to come speak with me -- contrary to what Mr.
Bruzas claimed. It should be noted in this regard that even if I was crazy I
could still be subject to crime, and it was only right that Sgt. Harris, or
other police officer, fairly hear my story, but this he was refusing to do. But
he presumed based on his "looking into the matter" that I was in
effect, some person with mental problems, and that he therefore not allow me to
make a police report of what had been going on. Originally, Mr. Bruzas
contacted me by phone and said I was not forced to speak with him. On that basis,
I told him, I did not think it was necessary and asked that he drop the matter,
understandably indignant at what I considered Sgt. Harris uncalled-for and rude
treatment of me. Some hours later in the afternoon, contrary to what he had
said., Mr. Bruzas, along with a woman, S. Megorden [sic}showed up at my house.
It was my understanding based on what he said that I was not obligated to speak
with him, and that I had told him I just as soon not have him come over. My
feeling, of course, was that his was all quite irrelevant. Mr. Bruzas in effect
lied, apparently with the purpose of having it go on record that I
"refused" to speak with him, thus making it seem there was something
wrong with me by not cooperating, when in point of fact he earlier told me I
was not obligated to speak with him. Even so, rather than turn him away, and
thereby make it seem as if I were being unduly recalcitrant, I invited he and
his partner in to the discuss the matter. They were there for about 15 minutes
during which time I politely answered their questions, explaining what had
happened, including mentioning that Sgt. Harris by doing this was reneging on
his earlier promise, denying my right to make a report, and hear my side of the
story. It was Mr. Bruzas, by the way, he who told me they did not have a right
to tie me up in that ambulance unless it was for purposes of commitment.
“Within a few days following, I called officer Harris
about this, asking why he had called those people, and refused to come let me
tell my full story. Again in the course of two or so phone call conversations,
he refused, albeit politely to discuss with me my situation and told me to go
talk to the "Harborview people." His attitude was one of, he had
looked into the matter, ostensibly deciding on that basis that their was
something wrong with me, and therefore refused to take a report from me about
all that had been going on. Without any
disrespect to Sgt. Harris, who otherwise seemed like a decent individual, his
attitude and that of the police has been frankly irrational. They say I have no
evidence, or the evidence is insufficient, yet they refuse to hear my story. As
anyone should know, especially some involved in collecting evidence, you can't
always justify the relevance of given evidence without a certain amount of
analysis and thoughtful consideration, as not all evidence is of a blatant
"smoking gun" character, especially when, with respect to a police
matter, one is dealing with criminals possessing a penchant for cunning, and
covering things up.
“* About Myself:
“I am 39 years
old, and am originally from Long Island, New York, and my family moved out to
Bellevue (Medina) about 1973. I was raised, and still am, a Roman Catholic
Christian. In High School I was a Boys State delegate in 1978 at a convening in
Spokane. I attended the University of Washington where I received a Bachelors
Degree in English. Later I attended Gonzaga Law School in Spokane for two
years.[28] I am a published author and have done work for
Classic Images magazine, a nationwide publication and Novastar computer Game
company. On many occasions I have been
a social activist in the past, often writing and speaking out on behalf of
animal rights. Having composed a number essays, poems and short stories my
first published book in book form was Mabel Normand: A Source Book to Her
Life and Films. Author, film reviewer and columnist Anthony Slide wrote of
this book
“’Mabel
Normand: A Source Book to Her Life and Films deserves wide readership. No
reference library should be without it. It is a gallant and eminently
worthwhile attempt to resurrect Mabel Normand to her rightful place in film
history.’
“Bruce Long, author of William Desmond Taylor: A Dossier wrote:
‘MABEL NORMAND: A SOURCE BOOK TO HER LIFE AND FILMS,
by William Thomas Sherman, has just been published. Compared to most other books on silent film stars, this is truly
a great book--more than a great book, because it stands as a prototype of the
way such books should be. If only there
were similar books available for dozens of other silent film stars!’
“On the basis of this book I was interviewed and
appeared on television on the E! Network's "Mysteries and Scandals"
program in 1998. Part of its subject involved an investigation into the
unsolved 1922 murder of film director William Desmond Taylor, which involved
some police of a kind of my own. I am including it with this letter as a sort
of testimony as to my character and intelligence. Presently, the revised and
updated edition of the Source Book is coming out and will soon be available.
“In my leisure time, I am an amateur violinist[29] and build historical wooden ship models.
“Nature of the original harassment and violence
crimes.
“It is not really possible to get into any real detail
here as to what my claims about my being subject to crimes, such as assault and
burglary are about, given their extremely bizarre nature and the deranged
character of the person (s) behind them. This business has been going on
actually for about 9 years now, and these people, reportedly connected with
Microsoft and Dreamworks have made my life a living hell. Part of what they
have succeeded in doing is isolating me from people, by bribing them blackmail
them, threatening them, and smearing my character with them. I have contacted
the Seattle Police Dept., King County Sheriff, FBI (some of the earlier events
took place in Los Angeles), and Senator Patty Murray this past year about my
overall ongoing case, and have not received even ONE single response from any
of them -- which speaks either to the influence of these offenders, or their
ability to interfere with my mail. The whole thing is so extreme and absurd, I
must admit I am at a loss to understand what these people's (i.e. the
perpetrator's) problem is. But essentially it seems to be something political
in nature, inasmuch as I am one particularly given to speaking the truth who
they want to debilitate and or discredit. As of recent years, another obvious
motive of there's is to drive me crazy or at least discredit me so that I will
not be able to bring criminal charges against them or sue them. In the very
near future I will be composing a detailed account of all that has been
occurring with respect to my case. When that is finished you are certainly
welcome to a copy. Even so, the overall story is not strictly necessary for
purposes of addressing my claims with respect to the incidences of Jan. 15, and
the incidences immediately leading up to.
“Conclusion
“The validity of my case regarding the prior
burglaries, or my alleged being ‘crazy’ is not strictly speaking in question
here -- as such. What then is at issue is my treatment at the hands of the
Seattle Police Dept., Seattle Fire Dept., AMR, and Harborview security. For
even if I am ‘crazy,’ as they will claim, that does NOT justify:
1.
“the peremptory
assumption that I could not be victim of a crime(s), and that protection as a
citizen from violence, burglary, theft be denied me by the police.
2.
“my being denied my
right as a citizen to make a report of a crime to the police.'
3.
“my being restrained in
an ambulance when the purpose of transporting me was not for commitment, nor
for reasons of my physically resisting or being verbally abusive to the ambulance
people.
4.
“my being denied my
religious right to have access to my rosary.
“Of course, it is my contention that I am not crazy or
mentally disabled, but rather that this is something that has been falsely
impugned to me. Granting me this, it further follows that there is no reason:
1.
“why I should be denied
refusing medical assistance for my burned hand. Clearly, the woman doctor on
duty at Harborview, when we initially arrived, was of the same opinion as
myself..
2.
“why I should suffer the
indignity, humiliation, and distress of being tied up, least of all when I was
already in great pain from my hand.
“A certain smugness, sarcasm, haughty
disingenuousness, hasty generalizations, dissemblings, circular reasoning one
can often detect in perjurers and people given to legal obfuscation. Such
behavior one will find aplenty if one talks or inquires with many of the
officials involved in these incidences. A decided indifference to the truth, at
times reaching to an antipathy, is not in the least uncommon. As long as the
observer or interviewer is honest themselves, it doesn't require a person with
great sensitivity or insight into human psychology to spot a liar when they
speak with one of these people. There are things about my case which, admittedly,
are not readily establishable or easily
determined. Nevertheless, the credibility and honesty of my opponents,
however, -- to a detached intelligent
observer -- is certainly not one of those points of dispute.”
Though there is much more to relate, I will before
closing and giving my conclusions give some description of the difficulty I had
trying to get an attorney to take my case of being involuntarily taken to
Harborview in the Martin Luther King Day incident. For my own convenience, I
will here mostly reproduce notes I took at that time.
“Wrote to
Robert Wayne, Luvera, and other attorneys 2/16/01”
In a letter to Seattle attorney Charles
Hamilton of Mar. 14, 2001, I list the following attorneys, law firms, or others as having been written
to in February.
“Below is the letter I sent out to you
previously, Feb. 16, but, for whatever reason, you had not received. I might
note that I also sent copies that same day (addressed and introduced
differently depending on whom I was addressing) to: Kargianis, Watkins, Werner;
Luvera, Barnett, Brindley, et. al,; Paul Kirschner and Assoc., John Walsh,
atty.; Robert Wayne, atty; Ron Perry, atty; Levinson, Friedman, Vhugen, Duggan
and Bland; Mayor Schell, City Councilman Jim Compton (head of committee on
Public Safety). So far I received one letter back from the Luvera firm (I am
including the email response), and one from a clerk, Lance palmer, of Levinson,
et. al, both briefly saying their firms cannot take the case. Otherwise, I have
not, for what it is worth, received any word yet, from any of the others.”
“Wrote Mayor Schell Feb. 16.
“Last week of March (or first week of April) wrote
KCBA, ACLU (either Tues, Feb. 27)
“Received reply from ACLU, dated April 11, Claire
Younker Moe, said they could not take case.
“Contacted Patty Fraser [i.e. at the King County Bar Association.} , Friday
April 13, inquired about my case said she had not received it in mail. I
emailed it to her, and she said she would have Joan Anderson look at it. pattyf@kcba.org
“Jeffrey Needle – April 16
“Send off letter to Mindensbergs, Gautschi, Thurs.
Apr. 17
James Lobsense April 19 (no time, not within his
‘expertise’), secretary ‘Jenn’ on Apr. 19 told me that he could not respond in
writing to a case unless he was going to take it. She had asked if she could
respond to me on his behalf but was told she could not do so.
“King County Bar Assn. Patty Fraser called Apr. 13
said she did not receive letter, I [had] emailed it to her, she said she would
have it looked into Mon. 16th. No answer called 2:30 pm Thurs. 19th
they said Joan Anderson left at 2:P00 would not be in Friday would respond
Monday 23rd.
“April 20 (had spoke with her a week and a half
earlier, no response after Stephani Cirkovich said Mayor did not know about
business had sent report to SPD internal investigations
“April 20 Julian Saucedo of Councilman Compton’s
office had sent report to SPD internal investigations, upon inquiring was told
they did not have report, I emailed him a 2nd copy.
“Monday, April 23
Called KCBA, was told Joan Anderson would mail me
within a few days.
“Fri., April 27
No response from Joan Anderson, called KCBA again was
told by a person ‘who worked there a long time’ there was no Sally Fraser, this
by Josie Bell, Julie, Edna.
Called three times, and could not get through for like
20 minutes each time.
Joan Anderson was gone till the 14th, will
mail report Monday as directed by Ms. Bell to A Tanya W. to follow up.
“Contacted by SPD about my case a Lieut. Mark Olson
684-0850 referred to matter by his supervisor, who spoke to and about case to
Julian Saucedo, said he did not have my case narrative. I asked he contact Mr.
Saucedo and obtain narrative form him if possible.
“Monday April 30
Called KCBA, Tanya not in.
“Tues. May 1
Called Susan Mindensbergs said she could not take case
Prior to that I was put on hold 1120 to 1200 left
message for Tanya W.
Finally made contact with Tanya W. Called here earlier
about noon, she wasn’t there left note for her to call me. Called kcba back
about 4 pm, she said she got the note but ‘didn’t have the number, it was on someone
else’s desk.’ I asked her if I could start from scratch and email my case to
her. She agreed. I called her back to make sure he had received them. She said
she found out, apparently from a note on Joan Anderson’s desk that Ms. Anderson
had spoken to 7 or more attorneys and could not find anyone to take the case. I
asked Tanya if she would send me a formal letter explaining that fact. She said
she would.”
“Called Rick Gautschi, whom I had mailed my case to,
asked that he call me back” [but he, for whatever reason, and like most of the
rest, did not do so or was prevented from doing so.]
There are a good many other strange occurrences and
happenings which took place these past 12 years, but which I didn’t even
mention here, endeavoring instead to relate mostly and only events both
specially memorable and or representative of others. To be frank I feel like an
idiot having to live the way I do, isolated, abused, often treated rudely by
people despite all I have already gone through. But the fact is, I am not to
blame for what I suffer, while at the same time I am happy beyond expression to
know that I am an enemy to the kind of people and forces, who to my mind
reflect the worst of either Earth or Hell (whether Hell from above or Hell
below.), indeed, and as far as I am concerned the most horrifying people in the
world today. I take great pride in the fact that, with God’s grace, I have been
able to fight off these people, alone, with no money, no assistance, while
being daily assaulted with brain radios and other sorts of harassment, while
those whom I fight and have fought are ages old, have plenty of money, plenty
of people working for them, and various kinds of both spirit people and
advanced technology at their disposal. To call these spirit people “losers” as
I have done on many occasions seems to me more than warranted, and it is a
great shame – to say the least – as
well as being completely ridiculous that there are or would be some who would
see such people as I have spoken of as either divine or representing higher
wisdom. Yet there are such people who do, and it is very odd to think that one
of the main reasons this world of ours goes to Hell (as it does) is due in no
small part to people’s inability to distinguish real from false Heaven, looking
more to show and feelings, rather than substance and truth.
My final recommendation to others who do or might
encounter such as I have described: Do the right thing, be rational, use common
sense, and know that no spirit person is inherently better than you are, nor is
any under less obligation to be moral, decent, fair, and reasonable than you
yourself – regardless of all fantastic
power and sorts of power they might display or possess.
Now a few extra comments I think are in order
concerning “The Heroes of Might and Magic.” Time and again they have tried to
marginalize me with people, yet the fact is I was never interested in them. Yet
they were and are very interested in me, and have spent enormous amounts of
money in the course of hounding me and getting others to go along with
them. They will mock me and say I
missed out on life (so far) – yes but that’s because I wasn’t fairly allowed to
participate or compete to begin! Many times I have received prank e-mail
messages deriding me for not having a major college degree, implying therefore
I should not be listen to with respect to academic or scientific matters. My
response is that I don’t ask anyone to listen to me, but to look at the facts,
consider reasonable arguments I have to make, and judge for themselves the
truth.
If I am wrong why the need for the people I (have
tried to) describe to bother me? I must think with respect to the wealthy
person(s) who has acted as (regular person) chief of staff for the ghost or
else :Faustus” that he is like Adolph Hitler or Joseph Stalin, responsible for
the most atrocious acts, yet will go on believing that he is someone how
helping people.
What at this point can be done? My problems as they
stand are:
The terms of my Social Security disability payments
include the stipulation that I cannot have more than $2,000 dollars at a time –
not all that much to live on for many people, and certainly a preposterous
amount to have to combat literal “Hell” with. These people still regularly run
brain radios on me, thus severely limiting what I otherwise can do physically
and mentally, and routinely hit me up with sprites and demons, though these
days I rarely if ever “see” apparitions, ghosts, and spirit people in physical
manifestation,, palpable to the naked-eye form.
Being without a car now, it is difficult for me to
move around. But much worse than being without a car is if I go out to walk or
take the bus they will assault me with a demon and brain radio, possibly have
something set up waiting for me in advance of where I am going. At the same
time if I am away from my house for too long it gives them that much more
opportunity to break into my home, and go into my things (including my papers
and documents on these matters, some of which they have stolen.) On top of all
this the abuse I have and still to suffer continues to take its tool on me --
non-stop now for 12 years -- and I am not sure how much longer I can go on like
this before becoming more severely debilitated.
My regular, mail, e-mail, and phone continue to be
interfered with[30] so that what gets out or what I receive is by
approval of (whom I would call) “the commandant.” This means I am prevented,
especially as an author, from being able to make a living, or to do so without
absurd and obviously unwelcome interference and oversight by my enemies. I therefore most urgently need to have my
communications properly restored to me, including postal mail, e-mail, and
phone.
There are a number of ways this problem might be
addressed, but for starters I would like to establish or re-establish contact
with the following people. If possible, I would like them to have copies of
this Narrative in advance so that (if not already) they can be made familiar or
more familiar with my situation.
There are others I might list but do not do so
thinking that this list here should, for starters, be sufficient and more
convenient for the purpose. Addresses and numbers give are the most recent I
have but are still possibly not current.
* Peter Underwood
(or someone representing)
The Ghost Club Society
The Hon. Secretary,
Mr Trevor Kenward,
Pine Trees
26 Dewlands Rd
Verwood. Dorset. BH31 6PL.
Reason:
spirit people study and research.
* Charlie Brown
1501
Fir Street SE. Auburn, WA 98092
Home:
1-253-833-1934
Reason:
friendship, personal
* David Erickson, Shrapnel Games
http://www.shrapnelgames.com
Reason:
prospective Horse and Musket 2 scenarios
* Bruce Long
Math Dept 1804
Arizona State University
Tempe, AZ 85287-1894
Reason:
Crime study, specifically the William Desmond Taylor case
* Heather Ripley Glaisyer
25 East Grimsby
Arbroath, Angus
DD11 1PA U.K.
Reason: I
wrote some poems, see my Poems (which you can find at my website https://www.angelfire.com/d20/htfh
), and am interested in knowing directly from her that she actually received
them. I did receive an email from someone claiming to be her that she received
them, but frankly I do not believe it was her, and would appreciate if she
could contact me other than by e-mail (at least at present.)
* William Drew
59 Washington Street #230
Santa Clara, CA
95050
Tel:
408-247-9513
Reel Drew @ aol.com
Reason:
silent film studies
* Local, regional, national Law enforcement generally
who might have questions on these matters as they pertain to combating crime.[31]
\
finally and also…
any and all who have been trying to reach me but who
for whatever reason have been unable to contact me.
I would also like to have my name, address, and phone
numbers in the Google address book, where they had previously been listed for
years but which within the last year have been removed.
Now there have been some who have been and are
reluctant to speak to me, and this of course I fully respect. Being someone who
hates being bothered I don’t want to be an unnecessary bother to anyone else.
There is no question that some won’t talked to me because they are, in one way
or another, threatened, blackmailed, perhaps frightened as well, including
perhaps one of those I have named above. Whatever a person’s attitude toward me
is I respect that only I want to it from them if possible, and not from someone
else who possibly has falsely taken it upon themselves to represent them.
Again, keep in mind, unless you are talking to the
person face to face it may be possible that someone might impersonate them (I
at least have had this happen.) So in a given instance if you call or write one
of the above named people, it is not entirely impossible that you might
encounter someone impersonating them. I don’t say this is likely, only
possible, and something to be on one’s guard for.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.
* “Weird” Seattle Happenings of this same period
--- World Trade Organization protests which included
groups or a group of “anarchists” who randomly and violently smashed store
fronts, a behavior entirely uncharacteristic of normal Seattle protestors
-- Various
serial killers, including but not only the Green River Killer, a phenomena
entirely unprecedented for the area and which I as a Puget Sound resident still
resent and am outraged by still. I contacted the Green River Task Force about
my Treatise on Hell to offer some suggestion but after politely receiving
directions to my website where they could get copies they did not contact me
back.
-- “The Stranger” magazine introduced at merchant
locations all over town, offered for free, and really one of the sleaziest and
raunchiest kinds of magazines imaginable.
-- Science Fiction display at the Seattle Center Science
Museum (i.e. exhibits of space alien models and sci-fi tv show props)
--- Pioneer Square pergola knocked over ala “Jack Ass
the Movie”
-- Local billionaire purchases former Soviet Nuclear
Submarine, and parks it on Seattle waterfront
--- Trees
poisoned in Arboretum
--- Various cemeteries almost regularly vandalized,
churches also, in Puget Sound region.
* Some Suggestions for possible future Legislation
regarding spirit people and Law Enforcement
a) Spirit persons are responsible for crimes just as a
regular person acting within the same jurisdiction.
b) Communications with conversant spirit people are
prohibited unless done through a special created agency and or someone
possessing some sort of license attesting to academic credentials in philosophy
(including logic and ethics) and science, with preferably a better than average
capacity for dialectical discourse and sound reasoning.
(I also have copies of the most of the responses, if I
received any, from the letters given below. In addition there were other
letters I sent but what is contained here is sufficiently representative of
them.)
March 26,
1993
Dear University [of Washington] Hospital Collection
Dept.,
In
response to request for payment of certain charges for visiting the University
Hospital Emergency Room, I must inform you that I neither can nor will not pay
it. The reason I can't pay it is that, quite simply, I'm unemployed and broke.
However, were this the only reason, I would still pay you back in increments
as I was able to earn some money. My credit has always been good, and I have
always paid my debts when I am in a position to do so. The primary reason then
that I won't pay it is because the `care' and treatment I received in the ER
was not only negligent, but criminal, as I will explain here shortly. I thought
that by just ignoring your initial collection notices that I was doing you a
favor by not suing you instead. Were I not poor and preoccupied with getting
on with my life as I am, I would bring an action against you. As this is not
the case, I thought it best to ignore the bills. Yet since, however, as
indicated by a phone call I made to you regarding your notices you've said you would like the truth, I'll give it to
you.
What brought me
to the ER was at least four separate cases of my having been poisoned. Now it
is true that I had taken Sudafed and Benadryl (as prescribed by an ER staff
member) for a respiratory ailment, however, the effects of the poisonings were
similar to street drugs. When I was in high school, I experimented at one time
or another with cocaine, speed, and hallucinogenic mushrooms. I was not a
repeat user, but I had at least tried them once to three times each.
Consequently, I am familiar with the effects they cause. The effects of the
poisonings then were very much like the
effects of these drugs, if not identical. It is my personal belief then that
the poisonings and the treatment I received in the ER was some kind of twisted
extension of the war on drugs of which I was made a victim. I do not know this
is the motive for what happened to me in point of fact, but this is my best
guess. Why me? I have been smoking marijuana for the last five years and had
only recently stopped in August. It may have been that the poisoning and
treatment I received was done with the approval of one or both of my parents.
My parents, of course, as would be the case if it were true, deny any such
involvement. Nevertheless, I offer this here as a possible explanation for the
poisonings which brought me to the emergency room. In any case, it is not the
poisonings themselves which are my cause of complaint against you, only the
reason for my being in your emergency room. When it comes I right down to it,
I honestly can't say that I know exactly why I was treated in the outrageous,
negligent and criminal manner I am about describe. I offer this business
about "the war on drugs" as being a possible motive, not a known and
established one. After all it, one would be hard put to describe any sane or
rational explanation for why people, especially "physicians," would
treat another person so.
What happened to me in the emergency room:
Staff was, for
the most part, callous and surly, thereby contributing to the stress I was
enduring as a result of the poisoning. On numerous prolonged instances, I was
made to wait for a doctor to attend me. When I was attended to it would be
different doctor's or nurses, practically none of whom appeared at once
together. I can understand ER staff being busy, but the nights I was there the
place was practically vacant of patients. But what's more, when the doctors
would leave me, I would hear them in another room laughing and making friendly
chit chat with each other as if they had nothing better to do. This was after I
was told they needed to seriously discuss my problem amongst themselves. I
would think it would be common sense that a person who was poisoned would be
suffering trauma, why did not those in charge of the staff, at the very least,
take this into consideration?
I was hooked up
to an EKG machine and tape was used. The tapes and wires were placed on my
chest. When I went home afterwards I went straight to bed without undressing.
When I woke up next morning and did get undressed I found an EKG tape attached
to my scrotum. When I was in the ER I began to feel very drowsy after a while,
it is my belief that what happened on this occasion was that I was put to
sleep, or I fell asleep naturally thus making this act of assault possible.
The treatment I
received for the poisoning was different each time, and much of it seemed to
have nothing to do with what was ailing me. For example, I was made to listen
to a psychiatrist rather than have a blood or urine test which would identify
whether I had ingested a foreign substance. I feel, in retrospect, that these
efforts in the way of psychiatric counseling were done to discredit my
credibility should I protest what was done to me.
On one of the
occasions, I was placed on a table and the `doctor' felt out my entire body,
from head to foot. Because I was scared and drowsy from the poisoning, and
assumed he knew what he was doing, I didn't not resist. However, the feeling I
came out afterwards of was of my having been sexually molested.
To this day, I don't see how `feeling me out' (i.e. my
entire body - from head to foot) would serve anything in the way of diagnosis
or treatment for a case of poisoning.
On one occasion
I was given a medication to take with some `instructions.' Later when I went
home to take it, I discovered that these instructions neither named what the
medication was, nor described in what dosage it should be taken. I was staying
at my father's house at the time of these visits and for some strange reason
this documentation mysteriously disappeared from my room.
Due to the
traumatic and debasing nature of what happened to me, I've tried to put these
events behind me such that there are certain things which I simply do not
remember, e.g. the name of the physician who molested me or the specific visit
at which it occurred. It is possible that were I to think hard and piece
together my recollections that I could come up with some of these absent facts.
At this time though, I can only tell you what at this time I do recall. Just
having to relive what happened by writing this letter is painful and degrading
enough for me.
If you insist on
battling this matter out in court, I will do so. However, I would hope that at
least on the basis of my indigency that the charges could be waived.
(note. a copy of this letter was sent to your Downtown
physician center with the relevant financial information).
Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
July 25,
1993
Dear Mr. Bernard, (Queen of Angels Hospital)
Recently I sent
your hospital a copy of a complaint I
filed with you charging staff misconduct that occured August 10, 1992. It is
with regard to that complaint that I am writing this letter.
The other day I
obtained a copy of my medical records, and no where in them do I find reference
to the nature or name of the medication that I was injected (in the buttocks) with by a middle-aged,
female member of the ER staff. Is the reference to it in the record contained
in hospital code/short-hand or is there just no reference? What ever the case,
I am writing here to request to know what the name and nature of that
medication was that I was administered.
Please write and
inform me as to what the answer is.
Yours Sincerely,
William
T. Sherman
August 16, 1993
Medical Board Of California
Complaint Unit
1426 Howe Ave., Suite #54
Sacramento, CA
95825-3236
Dear Medical Board,
I am writing
this letter to report to you a blatantly unethical and criminal incident which occurred at Queen of Angels
Hospital in Los Angeles on a Saturday in August of 1992. Because my rights
as a citizen visiting a public hospital
were violated in more than one manner, it is best to state what my
charges are by providing a full account of the sequence of events. I hope you
will pardon its length, but I feel a detailed account is necessary. Why I have waited till now to write this
letter will be explained in the course of my story.
I am an
author/historian from Seattle who was in Los Angeles last summer doing research
for a book project. I left Seattle moving to the Echo Park area of Los Angeles
in late April 1992. On a Sunday in August I attended a musical concert at the
Roxy on Sunset Blvd. Prior to the
concert I ate at the Spaghetti Factory
on (I believe) Santa Monica Blvd. My meal there consisted of spaghetti and a glass of wine. Afterwards at
the concert itself, I had a diet coke. While I enjoyed the concert very much,
the group performing was an English pop-group Shakspear's Sister, during the course of it I suddenly
began to feel very ill, and for no reason started to sweat uncontrollably.
While it is true the club atmosphere was rather stuffy, this no way seemed to
explain why I was, in a gradual flash as it were, render inexplicably queasy
and drenched with perspiration. Prior to the concert I was in the best of
health and spirits and the onset of my discomfort came as a great surprise.
Indeed, in all my life up unto this point I have almost never had need for a
physician other than on one occasion when I had sprained my ankle.
In the following
week I did not feel very well. I attributed this to simple fatigue. Then on one
day in the week I ate at the Milano restaurant (on Alessandro?) and thought a proper meal would do me good.
Instead I became dramatically worse. I began to experience extreme
constipation, a condition which I had never suffered in any way shape or form
prior to this, such that it became impossible for me to go to the bathroom. As
well, to my shock I discovered that my sexual organ would not function other
than to urinate. My breathing became more difficult. Hoping that all this was simply some temporary malady brought on
accidentally, I rested for a few days hoping it would go away. But it didn't,
and by the end of the week it finally became obvious that I needed to go to
a hospital or clinic. On Saturday
morning I called a friend and asked him if he knew a clinic or doctor he could recommend. I will omit his name
here out of courtesy - he is a rather old gentleman, but will provide it if
requested by legal authorities. He arrived to pick me up at my address at 1377
Lucile Ave. off Sunset and we looked around for the nearest clinics.
Unfortunately, after a lengthy search, every medical clinic we encountered on
Sunset was closed. Why this was so I did not then nor now know why. In any
case, my friend suggested the Queen of Angels Hospital on Vermont. To this I
agreed.
We arrived at
the emergency room of the Queen of
Angels Hospital at around 10:00 a.m. I signed in and was told to wait. After
sitting in the waiting area for five hours, during which time I felt fairly
miserable, I was finally admitted about 3 p.m. to the Emergency room. There it was all a hub of noise and doctors,
and cadets of some sort (police, medical, or police/medical I don't exactly remember, they were wearing
Navy blue cover suits) were running about - the place gave the appearance of
being busy. I was assigned a bed behind some portable curtains, give a smock
and told to undress. There were at least two policemen present in the room who
apparently were waiting while someone in their custody was being treated. No
one could see in or out of the curtained area I was located, except very
slightly through breaks where the curtains formed into corners.
It was at this
juncture that I began to suffer the mistreatment for which I am writing this
letter.
After
a doctor, I forget which one, briefly heard what was ailing me, he (she?) left and different staff persons came and
took my blood pressure. My blood pressure was registered clumsily at least
three times by different persons while I waited for a doctor proper to return.
At the time, I thought the repetition of this procedure by different persons,
including at least one "cadet,"
was rather incompetent.
Finally, Dr.
Phillip Fagan, a rather muscular, middle aged, black male with a moustache,
came into my spot to check my breathing with a stethoscope. Customarily, it has
been my experience that when this procedure is done the patient is either
standing or sitting up. Dr. Fagan had me lie back on the bed/examination table
and told me to breath as he applied his instrument. As he came to the area
upward to the left of my heart, he made a pointed clenched fist and
suddenly and with thoughtful and quick deliberation punched me below my left shoulder.
I was so shocked by it I didn't know what to say or could think what could
account for his doing it. Finishing up, he asked a few questions and left
me. I waited a while longer very much
perplexed. Then a middle aged female staff member with short (brown?) hair came
in by herself into my spot. Holding a hypodermic needle filled with a
brown/yellowish liquid in her hand, she
told me to roll over as she administered
its contents to me. Simply assuming she knew what she was doing,
desperate to be rid of the "chill" that suffused my groin, and
without questioning I simply acquiesced
and without informing me of what I was being given, she injected me. She then departed and I was again left to wait.
As I sat there I
gradually began to feel what was apparently the "medication" taking
effect I suddenly began to have great
lapses in my train of thought and suddenly found it difficult to form words. It
is all somewhat difficult to describe except to say that it felt as though I
had been given a very, very strong narcotic of some kind. By this time, I
became very fearful, after being punched and now this apparent drugging, and
didn't quite know what to do. Each time I tried to get hold of a staff member for help I was very rudely told to
wait. For the next three or four hours I lay on my bed waiting for one of the
doctor's to return, during which lengthy time
feeling utmost distress at my
situation. I literally felt and thought I could very well die then and there,
due to the effect of being punched, as I thought, in the heart and the
injection.
Now let me say
at this point, that the emergency room all this time was in utter pandemonium.
It was a literal madhouse which included someone farting loudly and repeatedly,
and directly at me from an adjacent bed, some patients screaming and yelling in apparent delirium.
How on earth anyone could expect to regain their health in such an environment,
even if it is an emergency room, is beyond me. I fully understand and
appreciate how chaotic such a place can get, but this went beyond outrageous or
ridiculous.
By eight
o'clock, a Dr. Fagan gave me a bottle of liquid laxative and directions to buy
antihistamine. Without ever telling me once what might be ailing me, or saying
whether the problem with my groin was cured or not , he finally released me.
Naturally, by this time I was dying to get out of there, so I didn't to trouble
to ask him about what condition was. In any case, he made it so very clear that
he was busy, that even if I had tried
to get him to talk for more than one or two minutes he would have put me off or
casually allowed himself to be distracted. He was not entirely unsympathetic
when I spoke with him, only he would not stay to answer what seemed to me were
very pertinent and straight forward
questions. Given the inordinately
prolonged amount of time spent seriously
dealing with my case one would have thought I should have been there no more
than ten or fifteen minutes, been on my
way, while freeing the "doctors" to devote their time, and my bed, to
other cases. Instead it took around
four hours for me to simply wait around to get a bottle of laxative and
directions to get antihistamine.
The next day I
returned to the hospital to complain and make inquiries. I asked to know what
it was I had been injected with. After a lot of running around for an answer a
staff person showed me a document of some kind with "Penheglian"
written on it, that presumably being the medication. My current records mention
"Phrenegan," but this was not what was written on the document. The doctor's name then was given to me as
"Herb" Fagan. This was written on this same document. I then got a
senior staff person of some kind and sat down with her and told her what
happened. After hearing my story, she politely told me that this was a
"good" hospital and that they didn't do things like that. I then
requested my medical records and was sent to the records division. Once there,
they told me that my records weren't ready and that I would have to come by on another occasion.
Disgusted and
frankly now a little fearful, I shortly after all this, I think Columbus day
itself, I left Los Angeles and came back to Seattle. Not surprisingly, after
what I'd been through, I did not feel comfortable remaining in Los Angeles.
Although the laxative seemed to cure my constipation, I still had difficulty
breathing and was feeling the effects of Dr. Fagan's having punched me. At the time, it felt as though my heart had
been injured, hence my feeling that I might die, which I mentioned before. When
I'd returned here, however, I went to a clinic. My injury was diagnosed as
damaged muscle within my left shoulder and they prescribed Advil, which had the desired effect of
alleviating the pain.
Quite obviously,
I had absolutely no idea of expecting anything remotely like this to happen when
I went to a hospital. I had always hitherto thought ordinary doctors were generally responsible professionals who one could put their trust in. Imagine
than my inexpressible horror and dismay to have underwent what I've described.
If these things were done to me
deliberately, which I am inclined to think is the case - though I can't say
that I know, perhaps this kind of shock and intimidation was these person's
apparent intention.
I subsequently obtained a copy of my records
for my stay in the emergency room copies of which are included here. Whether
the date on my records, August 10, 1992,
refers to when my they were processed or the actual date of my visit I
don't know. However, it is absolutely impossible that the day I was admitted to
the ER was the 10th since the 10th of August of last year was not a Saturday.
What specific Saturday my visit did take place I honestly don't recall except
to say that it most definitely was on a Saturday following the Shakspear's
Sister concert at the Roxy which in turn
was on the Sunday previous.
Why have I waited till now to make this report? I am not rich, and just
making ends meet, so it is with great difficulty that I can find the spare time
and energy to relive these awful events by writing them down. I cannot afford
to litigate, and I've been told after enquiring that even if I could afford it,
it would be nearly impossible to prove my allegations in court, since I am
practically my only witness. Not very long ago I have complained via letter to
the hospital itself, but have, I suppose not surprisingly, got no response other than that they said
they would look into it.
What would be
persons motive to do such things to me? I frankly don't know. In any case, I do
not feel it necessarily incumbent on me to provide a motive since any persons
who would do such a thing in the first place could hardly be considered
rational. I am a writer and of the things of mine could very well be considered
controversial. The historical research project I was involved in Los Angeles
had implications which, I suppose, some might consider undesirable. Yet never
in my wildest dreams did I possibly imagine to incur someone's ire in this
malicious kind of way.
What do I hope
to gain at this point by reporting all this? I am under no delusion, realize
how incredible my story must sound and
am more than aware of the inherent difficulties of a relatively indigent
individual challenging a major institution with comparatively limitless
financial resources to legally defend itself. Believe me it took a lot of
initiative and energy to merely write this letter knowing full well what I am
up against. However, if what I assert
is true, the persons responsible will likely find themselves committing some
wrong in the future. The reasoning here
is simply this, if someone would stoop as low as I have described by what
absurd moral standard do they scruple between right and wrong in governing their actions? If nothing else then my report then will serve as a warning and
caution to those who oversee their conduct. I do this more out of civic duty at
this point then anything else. I could not live with myself knowing that I did
nothing whatsoever to combat such intolerable misconduct. You may do with this letter as you please, for my part in my conscience I can say that I
have done all I could under the circumstances.
If you have any questions, please feel free to write or call me.
Note. Copies of this letter have been sent to Los Angeles City and County
legal and medical departments who would
have jurisdiction, in one manner or other,
over this matter. It was from one of them that I actually got your
address.
August 16, 1993
Commanding Officer of Detectives
Los Angeles Police Department, N.E. Division
33353 San Fernando Road
Los Angeles, CA
90065
Dear Commanding Officer of Detectives,
I am writing
this letter to report to you a blatantly unethical and criminal incident which occurred at Queen of Angels Hospital
in Los Angeles on a Saturday in August of
1992. Because my rights as a
citizen visiting a public hospital were
violated in more than one manner, it is best to state what my charges are by
providing a full account of the sequence of events. I hope you will pardon its
length, but I feel a detailed account is necessary. Why I have waited till now to write this letter will be explained
in the course of my story.
I am an
author/historian from Seattle who was in Los Angeles last summer doing research
for a book project. I left Seattle moving to the Echo Park area of Los Angeles
in late April 1992. On a Sunday in August I attended a musical concert at the
Roxy on Sunset Blvd. Prior to the
concert I ate at the Spaghetti Factory
on (I believe) Santa Monica Blvd. My meal there consisted of spaghetti and a glass of wine. Afterwards at
the concert itself, I had a diet coke. While I enjoyed the concert very much,
the group performing was an English pop-group Shakspear's Sister, during the course of it I suddenly
began to feel very ill, and for no reason started to sweat uncontrollably.
While it is true the club atmosphere was rather stuffy, this no way seemed to
explain why I was, in a gradual flash as it were, render inexplicably queasy
and drenched with perspiration. Prior to the concert I was in the best of
health and spirits and the onset of my discomfort came as a great surprise.
Indeed, in all my life up unto this point I have almost never had need for a
physician other than on one occasion when I had sprained my ankle.
In the following
week I did not feel very well. I attributed this to simple fatigue. Then on one
day in the week I ate at the Milano restaurant (on Alessandro?) and thought a proper meal would do me good.
Instead I became dramatically worse. I began to experience extreme
constipation, a condition which I had never suffered in any way shape or form
prior to this, such that it became impossible for me to go to the bathroom. As
well, to my shock I discovered that my sexual organ would not function other
than to urinate. My breathing became more difficult. Hoping that all this was simply some temporary malady brought on
accidentally, I rested for a few days hoping it would go away. But it didn't,
and by the end of the week it finally became obvious that I needed to go to
a hospital or clinic. On Saturday
morning I called a friend and asked him if he knew a clinic or doctor he could recommend. I will omit his name
here out of courtesy - he is a rather old gentleman, but will provide it if
requested by legal authorities. He arrived to pick me up at my address at 1377
Lucile Ave. off Sunset and we looked around for the nearest clinics.
Unfortunately, after a lengthy search, every medical clinic we encountered on
Sunset was closed. Why this was so I did not then nor now know why. In any
case, my friend suggested the Queen of Angels Hospital on Vermont. To this I
agreed.
We arrived at
the emergency room of the Queen of
Angels Hospital at around 10:00 a.m. I signed in and was told to wait. After
sitting in the waiting area for five hours, during which time I felt fairly
miserable, I was finally admitted about 3 p.m. to the Emergency room. There it was all a hub of noise and doctors,
and cadets of some sort (police, medical, or police/medical I don't exactly remember, they were wearing
Navy blue cover suits) were running about - the place gave the appearance of
being busy. I was assigned a bed behind some portable curtains, give a smock
and told to undress. There were at least two policemen present in the room who
apparently were waiting while someone in their custody was being treated. No
one could see in or out of the curtained area I was located, except very
slightly through breaks where the curtains formed into corners.
It was at this
juncture that I began to suffer the mistreatment for which I am writing this
letter.
After
a doctor, I forget which one, briefly heard what was ailing me, he (she?) left and different staff persons came and
took my blood pressure. My blood pressure was registered clumsily at least
three times by different persons while I waited for a doctor proper to return.
At the time, I thought the repetition of this procedure by different persons,
including at least one "cadet,"
was rather incompetent.
Finally, Dr.
Phillip Fagan, a rather muscular, middle aged, black male with a moustache,
came into my spot to check my breathing with a stethoscope. Customarily, it has
been my experience that when this procedure is done the patient is either
standing or sitting up. Dr. Fagan had me lie back on the bed/examination table
and told me to breath as he applied his instrument. As he came to the area
upward to the left of my heart, he made a pointed clenched fist and
suddenly and with thoughtful and quick deliberation punched me below my left
shoulder. I was so shocked by it I didn't know what to say or could think what
could account for his doing it. Finishing up, he asked a few questions and left
me. I waited a while longer very much
perplexed. Then a middle aged female staff member with short (brown?) hair came
in by herself into my spot. Holding a hypodermic needle filled with a
brown/yellowish liquid in her hand, she
told me to roll over as she administered
its contents to me. Simply assuming she knew what she was doing,
desperate to be rid of the "chill" that suffused my groin, and
without questioning I simply acquiesced
and without informing me of what I was being given, she injected me. She then departed and I was again left to wait.
As I sat there I
gradually began to feel what was apparently the "medication" taking
effect I suddenly began to have great
lapses in my train of thought and suddenly found it difficult to form words. It
is all somewhat difficult to describe except to say that it felt as though I
had been given a very, very strong narcotic of some kind. By this time, I
became very fearful, after being punched and now this apparent drugging, and
didn't quite know what to do. Each time I tried to get hold of a staff member for help I was very rudely told to
wait. For the next three or four hours I lay on my bed waiting for one of the
doctor's to return, during which lengthy time feeling utmost distress at my situation. I literally felt and thought I
could very well die then and there, due to the effect of being punched, as I
thought, in the heart and the injection.
Now let me say
at this point, that the emergency room all this time was in utter pandemonium.
It was a literal madhouse which included someone farting loudly and repeatedly,
and directly at me from an adjacent bed, some patients screaming and yelling in apparent delirium.
How on earth anyone could expect to regain their health in such an environment,
even if it is an emergency room, is beyond me. I fully understand and
appreciate how chaotic such a place can get, but this went beyond outrageous or
ridiculous.
August 23, 1993
[Addressed to?]
Sorry about Ray Moore
Enclosed is a
a) copy of my letter to the Board stating my complaint
b) Letter from Leah Kilger, of Hospital administration
after I had sent my report to her.
c) copy of Recent response from Asst. Chief of Police
Roger Serra to my request to investigate the possible criminal aspects of this
case. Originally, at the advice of an attorney’s office, brought my criminal complaint to the Seattle
Police, they said to take it to the University Police. I then spoke with a Det.
Roberts of the University Polioce on the phone and sent him a copy of the report of my complaint. After he read
it, I spoke with him a few days later on the phone and he simply refused to
investigate. Following this refusal I brought a complaint to the Asst. Police
Chief Roger Serra about Det. Roberts refusal to investigate this matter in any
way shape or form. This letter from Asst. Police Chief Sera then is his
response to my complaint regarding Det. Roberts.
1) I never spoke with a Mr. Jim Smith, Chief
Investigator. The only person with whom I had person to person contact with
(and that was over the phone) was Glenn C. Hay-Roe, Intake Coordinator - the
individual I refered to as the Board’s publc relations person.
2) At the advice of an attorney’s office, I attempted
to bring matter up with University Police, there response was that they could
not do anything to investigate because it was a medical matter. There response
was to take my complaint to the hospital administration, which I have already
done when I wrote miss Kliger. Although Asst. Police Chief Serra mentions Leana
Osterman as the person I should contact, Miss Kliger of the hospital
administration gave me no such recommendation and presented herself as the
person who should be contacted with
such complaints and allegations as I raised. The problem then in dealing with
the hospital itself is a) I have tried then to raise my complaint then with the
hospital administration, but they have refused to deal candidly. The reason for
this, one can easily surmise, is that the hospital obviously has little reason
to subject themselves to possible liability or to risk hurting their reputation
by dealing truthfully with my allegations.
Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
August 23, 1993
Secretary of the Senate Marty Brown
Legislative Building
P. O. Box 40482
Olympia, WA
98504-0482
Dear Mr. Brown,
In response to
your letter on behalf of Senator Ray Moore’s office, yes, I would very much
like the matter I raised with Senator Ray Moore pursued further and brought to
the attention of Senator Phil Talmadge and
the Senate Committee on Health and Human Services.
My response to
Bruce Miyahara’s letter is this.
1) I never spoke
with a Mr. Jim Smith, Chief Investigator. The only person with whom I had
person to person contact with (and that was over the phone) was Glenn C.
Hay-Roe, Intake Coordinator - the individual I referred to as the Board’s
public relations person. When, after receiving the Board’s terse verdict, I asked Mr. Hay-Roe if I could speak to
someone about my case, he very politely told me that no one other than himself
was willing to talk about it, and that for his part he had nothing to say
except that the Board cannot disclose the basis of its findings other than that
they have found for or against the patients complaint.
2) Mr.
Miyahara’s response in sum is that the Board cannot reveal what happened during the course of its investigations,
except to give the verdict. This goes, once again, to heart of my original
complaint against the Board which I raised with Senator Moore. What on earth is
this secrecy for? Can we expect, in future, clandestine trials to establish a
persons legal guilt or innocence? Is it
not possible than such a system could be corrupted by doctors and hospitals
trying to protect their own?
Either the Board
handled my case in a negligent manner, or is assisting the hospital in a
cover-up, or there needs to be some drastic changes made to the Medical Board’s
review process and procedures.
Enclosed for
purpose of closer examination of my case are the following:
a) Copy of my letter to Senator Ray Moore
a) Copy of my letter to the Board stating my complaint
b) Copy of letter sent from Leah Kliger, of Hospital
administration, in response to my report.
c) Copies of letter from Asst. Police Chief Serra, of
the University Police.
Explanation:
Originally, at the advice of an attorney's office, brought my criminal
complaint (alleging possible sexual molestation) to the Seattle Police, they
said to take it to the University Police. I then spoke with a Detective Roberts
of the University Police on the phone and sent him a copy of the report of my complaint. After he read
it, I spoke with him a few days later on the phone and he simply refused to
investigate. Following this refusal I brought a complaint to the Asst. Police
Chief Roger Serra about his refusal. This enclosed copy of the letter from
Asst. Police Chief Serra then is his response to my complaint regarding Det.
Roberts. Asst. Chief Serra states I must take my complaint to the hospital
administration, which I have already done in my contact and correspondence with
Leah Kilger. The problem then in dealing with the hospital itself is that they
refuse to discuss the case. The reason for this, one can reasonably, is that
the hospital obviously has little reason to subject themselves to possible liability
or to risk hurting their reputation by dealing truthfully with my allegations.
If you or
Senator Talmadge or his committe have any questions or require further
information about this matter, by all means feel free to contact me and I will
be more than galad to oblige you.
Thank you for
your attention to this.
Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
September 14,
1993
Dept. of Health Facilities and Services Licensing
P.O. Box 47852
Olympia, WA
98504-7852
Attn: Hazel
Dear Dept. of Health Licensing Staff member,
This letter is
being written to you to bring to your attention several separate instances of
staff misconduct, negligence and patient abuse which occurred during the course
of three visits to the University of
Washington Medical Center Emergency room in October and November of 1992.
Because what took place happened over the course of more than a week over nine months ago I cannot recollect every
single detail of all that transpired. I have had in my possession records and
documents corroborating or recording what I report here, yet for reasons
admittedly unknown to myself, these have unfortunately `disappeared,'
including notes I kept on my computer
which were entirely erased. This said, the following is the account of my
charges based on what I do clearly remember or can independently confirm. I
regret the length of this report, but due to the unusual nature of the events
and the fact that what took place occurred over an extended period of more than
a week, I feel my story requires thoroughness in examination given its
concededly unusual nature. I will conclude this report with a summary of my
charges and the important unanswered questions related to the case. The
allegations I have to make refer to conduct which is either criminal, unethical
or negligent. Some of the allegations are easily confirmed, others are less so.
Yet however you credit a specific charge I make I would hope at the very least
that you bear in mind that even if there is not sufficient evidence to indict
an individual or the hospital on one count, particularly a criminal charge,
this is not grounds in and of itself to necessarily absolve them of another
allegation.
September 20, 1993
Medical Board Of California
Complaint Unit
1426 Howe Ave., Suite #54
Sacramento, CA
95825-3236
Dear Board
Member,
I am writing
this letter to amend slightly a report I submitted to you concerning staff
misconduct that took place at the Queen
of Angels Hospital on Vermont Ave. in Los Angeles in the latter part of 1992.
In my report, I
affirmatively state that my visit took place in August. On this specific point
my memory, as evinced by some records recently located, is incorrect, and my
visit in fact took place in October. The reason for my confusing the two months
was due to the fact that the pop group Shakspear's Sister, mentioned in my
report, originally had a concert scheduled for August which was subsequently
canceled and rescheduled for October. It was this memory in reference to the
concert which caused me to confuse the month.
This noteworthy
correction, however, is all of substance that needs to be amended, and my
report otherwise properly stands as sent. I would though place added emphasis
on the fact that I was given an injection, allegedly of Phrenegan, without being told what it was or what it
was being given to me for, which had a horrendous side-effect. It was told me
later that Phrenegan is given to treat nausea. The trouble with this is that my
explicitly stated symptoms to the doctor were severe constipation, a
"frozen-up" groin, and some difficulty breathing. While these
naturally made me feel bad, I would not equate the feeling with nausea. It is
extremely odd and anomalous to me that no where in my medical records for the
hospital are my specifically reported symptoms even mentioned, despite the fact
that the Doctor examined my penis when I brought up the matter about the groin.
All this of course is aside form the outrage of being punched.
If you have any
questions please feel free to write or call me.
Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
The American Civil Liberties Union
705 2d Ave., Room 300
Seattle, WA
98104
October 19, 1993
Dear American Civil Liberties Union staff person,
Please accept
enclosed here copies of letters I wrote to the Los Angeles Police concerning
some rather (to put it mildly) unusual events involving that department and
myself. The letters speak for themselves, and in making yourself familiar with
my case it is necessary that you read them. My purpose in writing you is to
report to you what happened while I was
in Los Angeles - via these letters, and to ask your suggestions as to how I
might deal with my case. I would also be interested in knowing if there are any
Federal agencies who might have jurisdiction or other interest in the events my
letters describe whom I might at least send my report - do with it what they
will.
Your prompt
acknowledgment of receipt of this
letter would be very much appreciated.
Thank you for
your time and attention to this matter. If you for your part have any
questions, of course, feel free to call or write me. I would appreciate it if
you would promptly acknowledge the receipt of this letter.
Sincerely,
Oct. 21, 1993
Medical Board Of California
Complaint Unit
1426 Howe Ave., Suite #54
Sacramento, CA
95825-3236
Dear California Medical Board,
A few months back I submitted a complaint you
regarding an incident involving a Dr.
Fagan which occurred at the Queen of Angels Hospital in Los Angeles in 1992. My
case number is 17-93-30020.
Since sending
that letter some developments have come to light in the case which I think it
necessary to bring to your attention:
* My
original report is incorrect as regards
the date. My visit to the Queen of Angels Hospital took place in October rather
than August as it states. The reason for the error is due to my
associating the "Shakspear's
Sister" concert it mentions with August due to the fact that the concert,
as advertised, was originally slated for August, but was rescheduled to October. In trying to recollect exactly what
happened, I connected the concert date with the date of the incident, which was the right thing to
do except that my memory of the date of the concert was wrong.
* The doctor who
allegedly signed my signed my medical records, Philip Fagan, was not the physician who treated me. The
latter was instead one Elmer Eley. "Dr." Eley apparently had been
investigated on an earlier occasion by Health Licensing and had been
reprimanded for faulty medical records.
* Not long after
the incident Eley was discharged from the hospital.
* My medical
records contained no reference to my groin ailment, despite the facts that I
explicitly voiced my complaint to him and that he physically examined that part
of my anatomy in response.
* The medical
records state that I was suffering from nausea, when on the contrary I was
suffering from constipation. It was on this premise that I was injected with a
substance alleged to be Phrenergan, such that even if what I was injected with
was Phrenergan I was given a medication for something I wasn't suffering from.
Thank you for
your time and attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
William
Thomas Sherman
Nov. 15, 1993
ACLU of Southern California
1616 Beverly Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
90026
Fax: 213-250-3980
Dear ACLU staff person,
I am sending
here to you copy of a report involving misconduct on the part of officers of
the Los Angeles Police Department. Because my account is rather involved, it is better that you read my reports
instead of my attempting to summarize briefly what happened here. Copies of
these reports to the Los Angeles Police were supposed to have been sent to you
earlier by the Seattle office of the ACLU, but as I have not recieve
confirmation of their having arrived at your office, I am faxing them to you.
The reports
speak for themselves, yet I would add that I am more than willing and happy to
be subject to a lie detector test should there be any question as to the
veracity of my allegations.
Your prompt
acknowledgment of receipt of these reports would be greatly appreciated.
Yours Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
January 3?, 1994
United States Attorney
312 N. Spring St.
Los Angeles, CA
90012
Dear U. S. Attorney's office staff person,
(Note. A copy of this letter was sent to your office on
December 9th. However, upon calling your office on December 29th, I learned
that you had not received my original letter. I am therefore sending you this
letter a second time.)
This is letter is being written to you to bring to
your attention a case involving misconduct and corruption on the part of the
Los Angeles Police Department. The technical basis of my complaint is the
failure of the police to investigate a charge of assault and battery, inflicted
by a hospital doctor, that occurred to
me while I was staying in Los Angeles during the summer of 1992. My case,
however, has far deeper implications beyond this failure to act on a citizen's
complaint and concerns as well what would suggest to be criminal behavior and
criminal involvement on the part of the Los Angeles Police Department.
Enclosed with this cover letter are copies of 1) my
initial letter to the Commanding Officer of Detectives reporting the assault
and battery that took place at the Los Angeles hospital, and 2) a later letter
sent, at the recommendation of the Los Angeles City Attorney's office, to Chief
of Police Willie Williams complaining of the department's unjustified and
unexplained failure to investigate my complaint. These two letters describe in
detail what took place when I was in Los Angeles; the reading of which will
provide you with the specific nature and background of my allegations.
My case is admittedly some what involved, yet I will
briefly sum it up here to state that there is good reason to believe that
certain members of the LAPD have seriously broken the law, participated in
vicious terrorism and violated my civil rights in the interest of serving
political ends. These, as I am sure you will agree, are very, very serious
charges, charges which I do not make lightly. And while it might be
understandable that some one reading or hearing my report and allegations might
question their veracity, let me unequivocally state that I am more than happy
and willing to submit to a polygraph or lie detector examination.
I am not an attorney, so technically I cannot
specifically recommend to you how you ought to deal with my charges. I would
say, however, that if what I allege is true that this is a matter of extreme
seriousness inasmuch as the wrongs alleged to have been done or participated in
were of a calculated and ostensibly organized nature; and that to let something
of this nature slide or be swept under the rug would be to condone activities
which bespeak the very worst kind of depravity and corruption. I would hope at
the very least then, you would take the trouble to investigate my story.
Thank you for your attention to this matter and please
feel free to call or write me with your questions.
Yours Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
July 14, 1994
Jeanne Kohl
House of Representatives, #402
John L'OBrien Bldg.
Olympia, WA
98504
Dear Representative Kohl,
I am writing to
you to lodge a complaint and possibly get your assistance in an issue regarding
the state medical board.
In the Autumn of
1992 I was subject to negligence and mistreatment at the University of
Washington Medical, in consequence of which I filed a report with the state
medical board. Due to the somewhat involved nature of my complaint against the
hospitals physicians, I cannot go into the details of my case here. Having said
this, I will provide you with as much information about my case if you are
interested or need to know. However my purpose in writing you is to address the
procedures of the medical board and how my case was handled. Please inform if
you want the details and I will send them to you.
Needless to say,
my case, after many many months, which include an appealing and additional
review by the board, was deemed by the medical board to be without merit and my
allegations against the physicians dismissed. While I can respect the board’s
position to decide such matters as they think proper, I object strongly to the
bureaucratic, insensitive and unfair way in they handled my case.
My objections to
their handling of my case and then deciding against me is based on the
following:
(a) Though my
complaint in writing was received, never once was I given an opportunity to
speak with an investigator.
(b) Though the
nature of my charges were serious and then decided against, I was refused
having any questions about my case answered, despite repeated requests.
(c) The members
of the board who were specifically responsible for addressing my case were kept
anonymous, such that I do not know who specifically investigated the case or
who decided it.
In sum, the
response I received from the board’s public relations persons was that medical
matters are too complicated for ordinary people to understand and that I must
simply trust their judgment without desiring any specific explanation. Quite
frankly, I find this kind of response coming from a department entrusted with
overseeing a profession which deals with people’s lives on the most intimate
kind of level arrogant and irresponsible. Either my particular case was treated
unfairly or else something must be done to make the medical board process of
review more accessible to the public and physicians made more accountable for
what they do. I am not rich, nor can I, at the present time, afford to go
hunting around for and hire an attorney. I appeal to you then as my
representative to look into this matter and work to provide the citizens of
this state with a medical board that serves the needs of the people first and
foremost.
If you have any
questions or require more information, please feel free to contact me.
Yours
Sincerely,
William
T. Sherman
Reference case numbers:
Stephen Burns, case #: 93-09-0043
Charles Weaver, case #: 93-09-0067
July 26, 1994
Jeanne Kohl
300 West Harrison
Seattle, WA
98119-4081
Dear Representative Kohl,
As requested
here is a a copy of the letter reporting my complaints to the Washington
Medical Board.
One of the
infuriating things about my experiences in raising my complaint both with the
University hospital itself and the board is that I have not been allowed to
discuss my case with any one person-to-person. They have allowed me to write
them letters, which I have, but never once, despite the seriousness of my
allegations, did either the hospital or the board allow me the opportunity to
speak with some one personally. No one, it seems, wants to take any
responsibility or be made accountable. In each instance, I have been told to
differ to their authority without there being any obligation on their part to
provide answers or explanations. In sum, the only consolation I have been
provided with in each case is the assurance that “I can trust them,” i.e. in
their judgment. Well, I would much rather have some specific answers than a
condescending pat on the back and being told that they “looked into it.”
Although, I am
only sending the copy of my letter to the board, the medical records of my case
are available, only I do not have as ready access to them at the moment as the
letter. If you would like copies of the medical records written by Dr. Burns
and Weaver, please let me know and I will have copies made and sent to you. The
Board itself, of course, has copies of these same records and you have my full
permission to obtain these from them.
Thank you for
looking into this matter.
Yours
Sincerely,
William
T. Sherman
August 2, 1994
Detective Roberts
University Police
1117 N. E. Boat Street
Seattle, WA
98105
Dear Det. Roberts,
Enclosed is the
letter regarding allegations of molestation against staff of the University
Medical Center that occurred in Oct. of 1992.
As I mentioned
to you on the phone, I bring this to your attention not to gain your personal
sympathy but to ask that you see that the law has not been violated. Having
spoken with you at some length over the phone, you already have some idea of
what my allegations pertain to. I would like you to please contact Dr. Stephen
Burns and DR. Charles Weaver, both to my knowledge, still working for the
University of Washington Medical Center and, as best you can determine the
following:
1) Did Dr. Burns
or someone on his staff place an EKG tape on my scrotum during the time I was
unconscious in the Emergency Room?
2) Who was the
staff person at the hospital (on my third visit) who “felt me out?”
3) Does this
person latter admit to “feeling me out?” If so, how was this related either as
a diagnosis or remedy for what was ailing me?
4) Why did the
staff disallow me a urinalysis or other chemical test to determine whether or
not I had been poisoned? Gen a report of poisoning one would think this would
be a common sense kind of request to make.
5) Why did the
medical staff attempt to discredit me with Officer Underwood of the Seattle
Police Department when I attempt to make a report of having been poisoned?
Given the
seriousness of what I charge I hope you will at least inquire, by asking these
questions of Dr. Burns, Dr. Weaver and the staff, and thereby determine or help
determine whether there is any foundation to them.
Sincerely,
William Thomas Sherman
November 3, 1994
Representative Jeanne Kohl
300 West Harrison, 5th Floor
Seattle, WA
98119-4081
Dear Representative Kohl,
I would like to
reply to Leana Osterman’s letter with
the following:
Before doing so,
let me first submit for later reference here the questions raised in my
original complaint.
1. RE the EKG tape found in private area: Of all my
allegations I realize this, though it might be the most serious, is the most
difficult to prove. Yet due to the gravity of it I did not feel it could afford
to be overlooked. Also, mentioning it perhaps in one way or other might help to
explain the events which followed. This same conclusion as well applies
similarly to the matter about the
faulty prescription.
2. Two of the three physicians who filled out the
report on me proceeded to adjudge my case psychological in nature without
having making any serious or sincere effort whatsoever to determine whether a
foreign substance was in my system at the time. Why was I on each occasion
presumed in need of psychiatric care without even having been given a
urinalysis test? Why, except until the last minute of the last visit were these
refused me when I requested them? After all, if I was poisoned as I alleged
what how would this conflict with the symptoms I am described by the doctor to
have exhibited? If there was any possible doubt why from the beginning was I
denied the benefit of it? Wouldn't the hospitals version make more sense if
they had given me a proper blood and urinalysis test, and then presumed to
judge whether my ailment was somehow psychosomatic in origin?
3. Is systematically feeling out a patient's entire
body, sans groin, a proper procedure for treating some undergoing the effects
of a street drug? While I admit I am not in a position to answer that question,
as a matter of common sense I don't see how feeling out a persons entire body
has anything to do with remedying a complaint of poisoning.
4. Why did the staff feel they were in a position to
interfere with and deprive me of my civil rights by preventing me from making
a report to a Seattle Police officer?
Now to my
response:
First, you will
notice that none of the questions I raised earlier has been answered. Ms.
Osterman brushes everything off without explanation other than to say that my
allegations “have no rational basis.” Once again the message is to leave
everything to the doctor’s they can do no wrong and we must trust their
infallible judgment, even when possible allegations of criminal wrong doing are
involved. Doctors, even though they empowered with the greatest trust over a
person imaginable, because of their great prestige, are not, like every one
else, required to provide full or rational explanations, even with regard to
matters that are easy for a layman to understand. (Note. I am enclosing
a recent article published in the Seattle Times which gives a
demonstration of the kind of thing that can happen when matters involving a
crime committed against an incapacitated patient by a medical staff person are
left to the hospital itself to oversee.) As far as my case raises questions of
general public concern, where on earth did this notion come from that medical
personnel and doctors are not capable of committing serious crimes? One would
think that this seems to be the assumption seeing that we allow them such
extensive powers of self regulation and governance. Please just for a moment
stop and consider the power medical people, particularly those in a
hospital, have over people in their
care who might, for one reason or another, be incapacitated. If any crime is
committed, where their are no witnesses other than the victim, then who is the first to deal with the
problem - apparently the hospital itself. Now why, given human nature, should we necessarily assume that a hospital
would necessarily be more concerned about the public interest or that of a
single, violated crime victim, rather than it’s own reputation and
potentially being subjected to
litigation.
As to my
contacting the police: Yes, at the recommendation of an attorney I have, as you
know, done so. They (the Seattle Police Dept.) said they would investigate but
have yet to inform me what action (if any) they have taken. While it is not
clear to me as yet how the police is going to address my complaint, it should
be borne in mind that a Seattle police officer ran out on me at the hospital
when I tried to make a report (see my original report), something which by the
department’s own admission was wrong of the officer to do. Sgt. Mark Kuehn of
the Seattle police initially told me that he would not investigate. When I
asked him merely to write a letter stating why he would not investigate, he at
first said he would write me such a letter. Two weeks later when I called him
back to find out when I was going to receive this letter, he said he had
changed his mind and on second thought was going to have my complaint investigated. What is being done at this
point, I am still in the process of endeavoring to find out.
When I called
her, I asked Ms. Osterman whether feeling me out was a proper procedure. Her
first reaction was to say that the only proof of my being felt out was myself. Notice that she did not defend what
the staff person did, rather her first response was to deny that it happened.
Now my question was not how did she respond to my charge, but what purpose did
this medical procedure serve. Clearly, her initial answered implied that she
considered what I described as an act of wrong doing, otherwise she would not
have felt it necessary to respond by characterizing my question as an
allegation when in fact all I posed was a simple objective question of whether,
medically speaking, such a
“procedure” was ever warranted in a
case such as my own, and if so why. When I pointed this out to her she then
said that such a “procedure” would be appropriate but would not comment on
whether it should have been used in treating me.
How did the
doctor’s decide that I did not need a urinalysis? Ms. Osterman said they
“looked” at me and decided that it wasn’t necessary. Ms. Osterman’s argument,
based on what she said to me on the phone, in other words, is that I am crazy
and that for this reason I should not
be listened to. Now even if I were crazy, which needles to say I assure you I
am not, does that mean that it would be impossible for a crazy person to be
poisoned? Now granted we might suspect a crazy person complaining of being
poisoned might suffering from might be
a delusion, but does that mean crazy people could never be poisoned? The answer
of course is no, such that there was no reason, given the seriousness of what I
complained of, to deny me a simple chemical test which I was more that happy to
pay the expense for. The grounds for Dr. Burns (my first visit) of saying that
I was crazy was based on my statement that I thought that if I had been
intentionally poisoned, which by the way I did not automatically assume, that
my father might have been responsible. Well, Dr. Burns then assumed that such a thing must
necessarily be beyond the realm of all possibility and therefore I must be
crazy. While I will grant that such an allegation might ordinarily be odd and
unusual, my merely rising it as a conjecture as far as what had caused my
problem does not seem to me sufficient grounds to assume that I was crazy, such
that he could refuse me a simple urinalysis or blood test to determine whether,
accidentally or because of someone’s intention, I had received a noxious
substance into my system.
Ms.Osterman says
main argument over the phone to me that what happened took place so long ago
(two years) that there’s no need to bother with it. Given the potential gravity
of what I allege, I beg to differ.
In conclusion,
why all the secrecy? Leaving aside my specific allegations why does the
hospital refuse to explain the medical questions I raised, such as what is the
purpose of feeling out a patient as I described. Why, given the seriousness of
what I have alleged, was it necessary to wait so long to get even the terse,
inadequate kind of response Ms. Osterman now provides us with? Clearly, there
is much that still needs to be explained. Yet apparently we are required as a general rule to give medical people the
benefit of the doubt, assume that they are beyond ordinary mortals, and are
incapable of serious wrong doing because of the philanthropic nature of their
calling.
Once again, why,
whether I am crazy or no, was I refused a chemical test? This and other
questions have yet to be satisfactorily addressed, let alone answered.
Will Dr. Burns
and others involved be willing to subject themselves to a polygraph? This would
make this whole matter very simple to determine and it is hard to see why the
hospital refuses this. If money is a problem, I am more than happy to bear the
expense of such., including paying the staff people for their time should they
be able to pass such a test.
As to obtaining
hospital records or information pertaining to my three visits with Dr. Burns,
Mullins and Weaver, you have my full permission.
Also....
RE Washington State Medical Board: Why does it give
the hospital the benefit of the doubt, without having bothered to discuss the
case with me - at all? As I related to you earlier, not once did the Board
trouble itself to discuss with me personally my questions or allegations.
Instead, as with Ms. Osterman I am expected to merely take their word for it
without rational explanation offered to the legitimate questions I raised in my initial complaint. Please
then keep in mind that my complaint to you concerns the questionable handling
of my case by the State Medical Board as well as the University of Washington
Medical center.
Finally, while
clearly I have a personal interest in this case, I respectfully hope you
realize that its implications, regarding the how people in medicine police
themselves, have a much more important relevance to the public at large. The
enclosed copy of the Seattle Times news clipping I would think bears this out.
Thank you for
your time and attention to this.
Yours
Sincerely,
b. Miscellaneous
Below is something I wrote back about the mid
nineties:
“IS THERE SOME WAY OF PROVING MY
ALLEGATIONS?
“Yes,
many of my allegations can be proved if someone who was honest would simply go
and investigate and to attempt to confirm them.
“Here
are some things which might be looked into to help verify my claims.
“a)
For the possibility of mind control/torture technology see APPENDIX:
“b)
Give any and everyone possible, that is in someway involved, and have or ask
them to take a honestly administered lie detector test.
“c)
Some kind of CAT Scan or MRI test to identify what is doing my head damage,
specifically some kind of technology. Of course, someone will be sarcastic and
say I ought to have my head examined, but this is just a reminder of the
cruelty of such a technology and how it can be used to discredit its victims.
“I have had two CAT scans already and I
was told nothing special showed up on them. Personally I believe some manner of
machinations brought this result, either the doctors were crooked, or else
there was other goings on such as my being given someone else's scan. "How
could that happen?" one might reasonably ask? If we assume that by means
of this device the said perpetrators can read my thoughts, they know in advance
where I am going and can arrange it that I get a manipulated reception. These
physicians who arranged to have the scans made then, hypothetically speaking
may have been cajoled, bribed or intimidated to prevent their honestly helping
me. Alternatively, the doctors who had the scans taken might have been acting
in complete good faith, but that behind the scenes there was some switching or
doctoring of the test results by other staff. This obviously will come across
as very far fetched to some, yet if what I allege is true than such obstruction
would be absolutely necessary as part of the criminal's plans. On top of all
this, in most of my personal contact with them, I will be candid in saying
that the demeanor of these doctors was
hardly one of forthrightness and sincerity.
“Now, it has been brought to my attention
by other victims and literature in the subject that this mind control/torture
business can be carried out without an implant. Not being much of a technical
minded person, how this is so I cannot quite fathom. It may after all be so in
my case. Nevertheless, I view this possibility as unlikely and am thoroughly
convinced (though admittedly I can;t say 100% sure) that what I am dealing with
is some kind of implant.
“d) On a human level if AN HONEST PERSON
were to interview of the people I allege have participated in this scheme they
would find themselves talking to people who are evasive, abrupt and
dissembling. This is the kind of thing that cannot be used as hard objective
evidence, yet I mention this for the reason that if an honest person were to
interview in some degree of depth, such a one would not have too much
difficulty seeing what I am talking about.
e) Earlier mentioned scars on my abdomen
and inner thigh can be inspected for those who want proof on this point.
“f)
Due to the complexity of the narrative there was one series of incidences I
left out for brevity's sake. Before the events of 1992 I was seeing a girl
every so often, named ‘Cheryl Bowers.’ Now without going into the whole story,
let me sum up by saying this girl was somehow involved in setting me up. What
is unique about her role was that she has a twin, something I did not discover
till after I had come back from Los Angeles. Now she denied she had a twin
sister, and she and her mother about 1993 moved, reportedly, to California. Now
the proof in question on this point is this: to determine whether or not this
gal had a twin, or else had cousins who were twins. I realize this sounds a bit
convoluted, yet it is a relatively simple way to help establish my story. If it
is proven that Cheryl Bowers has a twin (or cousins who are twins), this will
leave her to explain why she (they) deceived me in the course of an on and off
relationship that lasted about 3 years. If it is established that she has a
twin, I would follow this up by inquiring why their long term deception of me:
my reasoning being (based on evidence drawn from my contact with them) that
these girls were orignally involved in setting me up. There is a whole story
behind my relationship to these girls, and I could write at length on the
subject, including specific reasons why I believe they are connected with this
business. However for the sake of keeping things as simple as possible, I have
refrained from going into detail on this aspect of my story.
“Despite then the regrettable, yet
practical necessity of omitting much detail in this matter regarding ‘Cheryl
Bowers,’ what I am raising is really not as complicated as it might on the
surface sound. To recap: 1) locate Cheryl Bowers, 2) find out if she has a twin
(or cousins who are twins), 3) If she has a twin, ask her to explain why she
decieved me on this point for three years - and much of the rest will begin to
fall into place, or at least it will be a significant breakthrough.
“I have no information where ‘Cheryl
Bowers’ moved to, however ‘they’ are apparently with their mother Carmel
Bowers, (a former employee of, I believe JC Penney's in Bellevue), who was last
residing at: 10728 NE 26, Bellevue, WA 98004
* Below are
various names, addresses and phone numbers of people I dealt with in the course
of this or whom I contacted:
Dr. Robert Aigner, MD , neurologist
Dr. John Chapman, MD
Dr. Dean Ishiki, MD
Ethical Committee
Los Angeles County Medical Association
1925 Wilshire Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
90057
Special Crimes Division - Medico-Legal Section
320 West Temple St.
Room 780
Hall of Records
Los Angeles, CA
90012
974-7346
Los Angeles Police Dept.
213-485-2563
213-485-4063
Commanding Officer of Detectives
Los Angeles Police Department, N.E. Division
33353 San Fernando Road
Los Angeles, CA
90065
Dept. of Health Services
600 S. Commonwealth Ave. #800
Los Angeles, CA
90008
Attn. Licensing and Certification
Calif. State Licensing: 213-351-8200
8:00 to 5:00
Dept. of Health Services
600 S. Commonwealth Ave. #800
Los Angeles, CA
90008
Attn. Licensing and Certification
Calif.Medical Association
1201 K. St.
Sacarmento, CA
95814
916-444-5532
Calif. Med. Association
221 Main ST.
San Francisco, CA
94105
415-541-0990
Calif. Medical Association
P.O. Box 7690
San Francisco, CA
94120-7690
American Medical Associoation
515 N. State
St.
Chicago, Ill.
60610
312-464-4818
Ethical Committee
Los Angeles County Medical Association
1925 Wilshire Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
90057
Special Crimes Division - Medico-Legal Section
320 West Temple St.
Room 780
Hall of Records
Los Angeles, CA
90012
974-7346
Los Angeles Police Dept.
213-485-2563
213-485-4063
Commanding officer of Detectives
33353 San Fernando Road
Los Angeles, CA
90065
Amnesty International
322 8th Ave.
New York, NY
10001
1-800-AMNESTY
District 36
Senator Ray Moore, 284-8088
431 Cherberg Office Bldg.
Olympia, WA
98504
Helen Sommers, 283-6388, 1-206-786-7814
House Representatives, #203
John L'OBrien
Olympia, WA
98505
aide: Pauline Rice: 1-206-786-7814
P. O. Box 40671
Olympia, WA
98504
Jeanne Kohl, 285-1869, 281-5493, 1-206-786-7860
House of Representatives, #402
John L'OBrien Bldg.
Olympia, WA
98504
or
300 W. Harrison
Seattle, 98119-4081
State of Washington
Dept. of Health
P.O. Box 47852
Olympia, WA
98504-7852
Any further correspondence about this matter should be
referred to as 93-077.
Hazel, 206-705-6612, or 1-800-633-6828
Gail V. Hughes, Manager
Office of Licensing Administration
Evergreen Legal Services - 464-5911
Fremont Legal Services - 548-8361
Lawyer Referral King County Bar Association - 623-2551
Volunteer Legal Services - 623-0281
John Alexander: 448-7172
Dept. of Health Facilities and Services Licensing
P.O. Box 47852
Olympia, WA
98504-7852
Attn: Hazel
Medical Disciplinary Board
Washington Board of Medical Examiners
1300 S.E. Quince St.
P.O. Box 47866
Olympia, WA
98504-7866
Attn. Betty
206-586-3335 Glen.
206-586-4574
Stephen Burns, case #: 93-09-0043
Charles Weaver, case #: 93-09-0067
Fax: 206-586-4573
American Medical Associoation
515 N. State
St.
Chicago, Ill.
60610
312-464-4818
Adjutant General
State of Washington
Attn. Records
Camp Murray, Tacoma
98430-5186
University Police
Det. Roberts
543-9331
Asst. Chief of Police Roger Serra
1117 N. E. Boat St.
Seattle, WA
98105
Governors office: 360-753-6780
Lee Harris
Ray Moore’s letter sent to:
Bruce Miyahara
Dept. of
Health
P. O. Box 40002
Olympia, WA
98504-0002
Marty Brown, Secretary of the Senate
206-786-7550
Sgt. Mark Kuehn - 684-5590
(contacted in late Sept. 94)
Case # - 94-438-299
SAU - 296-9470
Gina (older one), Geena
Norm Maleng
516 3d Ave.
Seattle, WA
98104
Sgt. Campson or Sgt. Harper - 684-5583
Charles Hamilton: 623-6619
2003 Western Ave. Ste. 600
Seattle, WA 98121
Cheryl Bowers
(206) 488 - 6132
16015 124 N. E.
Woodinville, WA
98072
Carmel Bowers
10728 NE 26
Bellevue, WA 98004
822-0373
Janny Becker, Case Management Services: 322-5258
Sydney Thompson
213-250-4431
100 W. Edgeware
Los Angeles, CA
90026
Incident Officer P. Fox, Seattle PD, cse #96-499-535
Anthony Slide
4118 Rhodes Ave.
Studio City, CA
91604
(818) 769-4453
Michael Dunn (E! Entertainment network) 323-954-2682,
MDunn@Eentertainment.com
Jenna Girard: 323-692-6482, 323-654-7655,
JGirard@Eentertainment.com
Jack Thiem
(206) 778 - 5169, 543 - 8510
22815 Lakeview Dr., G - 315
Montlake Terrace, WA
98043
Norman Carl Rabin (Mind Control victim)
31 Cedar Drive East
Plainview, N.Y. 11803
516-349-0560
Mekka Robinson
Probation Counselor, Probation Services Division
Room 1400, Public Safety Bldg.
600 3rd Ave./MS 02-02-23
Seattle, WA
98104-1852
206-615-1966
mekka.robinson@ci.seattle.wa.us
Case:378914
684-7837
Room 1490, Dexter Horton Bldg., 710 2nd Avenue/MS
13-14-01
(case originally assigned to Ameo Butler)
Bob Powers, Western State Hospital
Admitted myself to clinic for immediate care: Oct. 16,
1992 at
5th Avenue Hospital
10560 5th Ave. NE, Seattle, 98125
Charles Hamilton
2003 Western Ave. Ste. 600
Seattle, WA 98121
The following two pairs of people lived upstairs above
me at separate times at 3014 NW 75th St.
Shannon Hill
Suzy Coolidge
Thea De Young
Jeff Chrisafelli
Old addresses:
W. T. Sherman
3014 NW 75th
Seattle, WA
98117
(206) 784-1132
previously
6322 Woodlawn N.
Seattle, WA
98103
(206) 523-1464
P.O. Box 26225
Los Angeles, CA 90026
or
1377 Lucile Ave.
Los Angeles, CA
90026
213 - 660-0827
[1] My being state of not paying two long term financial debts may understandably be off hand inferred by some as in some way reflecting badly on my character. While I think the inference is very understandable, I cannot, given the larger circumstances, fully agree. I forbear addressing the matter of these debts in this writing for the reason that doing so would only add unnecessary complication and material to an already complicated story.. This said, my basic position regarding my debts is this: because I was prevented from being able to work for many years now due to the regular and ongoing criminal machinations of others, and which included debilitating physical injury to me, I have been unable to work such that I could not work to pay them off without completely unreasonable and extreme hardship being required of me – thanks to the malfeasance of the perpetrators will I will get on to discuss.. In addition, I am still more than glad to pay back these, and all the mores so as some of those who owe me criminal damages be made to pay me for what they owe.
[2] I still have a photograph of the vehicle and the damage done.
[3] My complaint to him did not concern the ER’s treatment of me, only the poisoning itself., and basically as I have already described it here.
[4] The passage here was written not long after the events described and is not something I have added later in composing this narrative, so that yes in retrospect I could say now I have a better idea now of what happened, that is that I was deliberately poisoned.
[5] Not included here. Someone interested in finding out
about technological mind control, such as in the work of Dr. Jose Delgado, can
easily find the sort of things I am referring to on the internet.
[6] This was written in 1998.
[7] Marijuana, though I have never been much of a drinker.
[8] My sense here is that the suffering of the helpless and the innocent is worse than anything we ourselves suffer.
[9] These were actually Ducket’s grandchildren, and their mother was another cat, Kitty Kates, who I recall ultimately had about fourteen children. I tried to get them spayed and neutered by a charitable group which does that sort of thing but they required I catch them all and bring them in which was simply too much for me what with all else going on. I have photographs of all the ones I adopted.
[10] I had court records which contained the specific date
of this incident, but all the records I had regarding this event, formal and
otherwise, have been stolen or else
have disappeared. The following notes I took at the time are as much as any original record I have left:
“Judge Brady Johnson, hearing on 8/7 [2000]
B. Lamendola
Next hearing 9/11 at 1:30”
[11] He sort of half appeared over my shoulder and could be seen in my mind’s eye, though he may at first appeared in full length so to speak, I can’t now exactly recall.
[12] This first part of the drive may have been down 65th rather than 70th, I frankly don’t now recall which, though I am fairly certain on the drive back towards Ballard we took 65th.
[13] It was claimed by someone that I hit them along 19th, on the basis of which they filed a claim with Geico and received damages. This claim is a complete fraud, I hit no moving vehicle, and I expect the recipients of this insurance money were the same people (or connected to the same people) who set me up.
[14] On a couple of occasions Mr. LaMandola conferred with my father, against my own wishes, as if I were incompetent to address my case, really in such a way that I thought was needlessly insulting and condescending, though ostensibly well meaning in his motive.
[15] I think I have her last name written down some where in my mound of papers on these things.
[16] This was Steve Woolley, and Saskia Von Michalofski. I also spoke at some point to Mekka Robinson a probation officer, and to Bob Powers of Western State Hospital a psychiatric examiner, both of whom I did mention the ghost to. At my trial itself I didn’t mention him, however, but without lying or distorting the truth otherwise.
[17] Some might object to a given one of these that it occurred in isolation, and had no special relation to what else I recount. My response is perhaps, but that it won’t hurt to have listed it along with the others as possibly connected to my main story.
[18] On a similar note, I might mention that not long before this juncture I had had a bumper sticker made which quoted John 16:11: “The ruler of this world has been condemned. ” This was before becoming directly acquainted with spirit people..
[19] She was a tough cat and a survivor. A more furry than usual brown tabby who she would sometimes run (up to) four whole blocks at a time to meet me when I drove down to the lot, which was funny.
[20] These were actually Ducket’s grandchildren, and their mother was another cat, Kitty Kates, who I recall ultimately had about fourteen children in separate litters. I tried to get them spayed and neutered by a charitable group which does that sort of thing but they required I catch them all and bring them in which was simply too much for me what with all else was going on.
[21] The remains of the others who were put to sleep or passed away were disposed of by the facility where they were put to sleep, whether it was the Seattle Animal Shelter or a veterinarian., except for Covey Cub who I buried in a garden bed on my property. I would have preferred to have buried them all out in some far off, quiet place in the woods rather than have their remains disposed of institutionally but after Peanut Berry was put to sleep I didn’t have my truck and the grounds of my property are very small, as well as my living circumstances very distressed and violent.
[22] He used to sort of chirp rather than meow, and was a pure innocent.
[23] For the last few years now I have been trying to contact Father Sweeney, but for reasons not completely clear he has not contacted me back. I know him to be an intelligent and conscientious person and would not think he would himself deliberately avoid contacting or seeing me. Yet there is evidently an effort on the part of someone to interfere with my reaching him (or his reaching me.) Someone who would like to know the truth behind this can contact Father Sweeney (last I heard he was at Blessed Sacrament, though often away on travel), and see if he will not come to visit me, or if not why not. If he just tries calling me by phone, it is very likely he will not get through as my phone line for a long time has been tampered with -- or so from circumstances one could reasonably infer. In the course of seeking assistance, I have tried calling certain people a few times, and the person who answered on the phone claimed to be them, but I have good reason to suspect, based on their strange attitude and way of speaking, was actually an imposter, who presumably was able to interfere with the phone line – or again so it would seem..
[24] Naturally and in the same vein diseases need a regular food source, and it can be that by locating this and depriving the disease of it, that a disease can be reduced or eliminated.
[25] It seems more than probable that a large part of the problem with idols and graven images, as referred to in the Bible, related to spirit people speaking “through” those idols to people, and the person then listening to the idol (actually the spirit person.)
[26] Worth noting is the fact that the more clever Hell people can take and represent any interest or any side in any argument, sometimes convincingly so. So, for instance, if we all came together and agreed to fight “Hell,” it probably wouldn’t be long before a Hell person infiltrated the ranks and used the cause to further his own ulterior interests, perhaps even becoming a respected and recognized leader in the process. This in one reason I think that proficiency in logic needs to be made an integral part of basic education, along with reading, writing and arithmetic.
[27] This
same sort of poisoning as later repeated 2 or 3 times later and on one occasion
(Jan. 2004) the pain lasted more like 8 hours. These incidents were, I think,
the most physically painful of all my ordeal. On another occasion they
were bashing in my head with radio for hours. This was not unusual only in this
instance they did something to make it more physical. It literally felt like
wearing an old army helmet and it being struck by a steel headed mallet so
excruciating was the kind of headache caused. This also lasted for a more than
brief duration, say an hour or two. By footnoting these “attack” incidents, I
don’t mean to trivialize their seriousness. They do constitute attempted murder
as far as I am concerned. Yet having
recounted already what I have thus far, it seems unnecessary to highlight or
make a special case about them.
[28] I also was in the Army (National Guard) for a while and successfully completed Basic Training and then Armor school training at Fort Knox, Kentucky, was part of the 1st Brigade of the 803rd Armor Division, and afterward attended ROTC school briefly at Fort Lewis here locally (my entire service lasting 9/88 to 1/90). I was however discharged, though honorably, from the army on the grounds of false enlistment. I failed, when I enlisted, to mention a (property ) trespass offence from back around my time in high school – or such was the reason I was given. My not finishing law school (once more to make a long story short) related to a dispute I had with my father.
[29] I had taken lessons for a few months from a fine elderly gentleman who lived on Capitol Hill, a block or so away from Bischofberger’s, the violin maker there, and got to where I could play some sonatas by Bach and Corelli. tolerably well. However, “they” would grease my bow hair or have sprites hang on the tip my bow, or pull on strings while I played so that it has been some time now since I have tried playing.
[30] To give just one example, I sent a (to be signed for)
certified mail to Jerry Brown’s “We the People” group in Oakland and it was
returned unsigned, as if they refused to receive it. The U.S. Postal Service,
or certain importantly placed people in the U.S. Postal service, I do believe
are definitely involved in some way as an accomplice with these people. It is worth remarking in regard the series
of post office shootings that have occurred in the past decades: disgruntled
employee guns down supervisor or fellow worker. This sort of occurrence (to
make a long explanation short) suggests invasion of the postal service by Hell
people, to obviously better control that most fundamental of societal
institutions.
[31] I have contacted the FBI a number of times, at least 3
or 4, including submitting complaints about hacking on the internet to them, or
personally submitting one of the drafts of my story to their Seattle office,
and have never once received a response back from them.