TTSOML #148: Farmers' Hand In Things & Bullivant Houser Bailey

I've already written about how my case with Farmers' got transferred from one woman to Donna Ciaramella, in Oregon. And they tried to keep me from having a badly needed knee surgery after this guy pulled a hit-and-run job, right after Christa asked me where I was going, when I told her I was leaving to go fill out and pick up some applications for jobs.

So Donna made sure I didn't get taken care of. It was a kindly physician who usually worked on BEHALF of Farmers', who couldn't bear to be dishonest and make me suffer further, who said I had a knee injury that was caused by the collision, who pulled strings for me. Farmers' own guy defied them, and gave me a verdict in my favor, which was damaging to Farmers'. If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't be able to walk.

After that, Farmers' pulled some fast ones to make sure I didn't get the Uninsured Motorists' Liability money they knew I was entitled to. I was eligible for $50,000, which the Catholic church knew I would use to clear my name from their slander. Christa knew my plans.

Both Farmers' and the Abbey lawyers had an interest in depriving me of the money, so when it finally came down to what my strategy was, I was jailed too long to be able to meet the cut-off for filing for bankruptcy to preserve this money. It went to arbitration, with a Judge THEY wanted and chose, who was, GUESS?!, Catholic. He wouldn't allow me an abatement for medical reasons when I told him I was still suffering from childbirth, and just dismissed the whole thing. Farmers', I found out, was having ex parte contact with that Judge/Arbiter, because I got email from Farmers' and phone calls from them, with them telling me what he had told them, in ex parte conversations. I called him on this improper contact and wrote and said it established favoritism, and he wouldn't recuse himself. He just threw out my whole claim, and then Farmers' called me, on my birthday or the birthday of my son (I can't remember, but it was one of our birthdays) and announced it was all over and that I'd "lost", in a snide tone, nonetheless. I'm sure John Kaempf, Christa, and the Farmers' buddies had a toast to that.

So I lost $50,000 I was entitled to, because of a dishonest judge who had established ex parte contact with the Farmers' people and their lawyers.

Next, I don't know if this is coincidence or not, but I have to write about it...

I didn't hear anything from Farmers' after that. But when I decided to leave Washington state, just a few months ago (this is skipping ahead), guess who knew where I initially planning to go? Farmers'!

Before I go further, it may be interesting background information to let you know Dick Whittemore, attorney for the Abbey, represented insurance companies. He defended them. So did Kaempf. But Whittemore, even more. When I looked him up on the Bullivant Houser Bailey site, years ago, his main people and businesses he represented were insurance companies. Large ones. Bullivant, as a firm, represents several major insurance companies. I don't know if they ever represented Farmers', but insurance company lawyers know eachother. They go to seminars on the same things together. I remember reading about Whittemore going to such seminars, in California, when I looked online.

So, when I decided to leave Washington state, afer living in Whatcom county and realizing my medical care was getting screwed up with and tampered even there, I told my roommate I was leaving, but didn't say when, and I just said I didn't know, somewhere East Coast. Then I decided "Georgia". I chose Georgia, Atlanta, Georgia, because the medical care looked decent for those who might need medical coverage through the state temporarily, and there was more of a Baptist backbone than a Catholic one in medical services there. I can't remember if I told my roommate this or not. I believe I told him it was looking like Atlanta.

I have to tell how I got to Washington D.C. to expose who knew or was tracking where I was going...

I'm starting to laugh now, because while most of these horrible years, I've been alone and suffering, it does crack me up that I was trying to be my own amateur "spy" and P.I., Jamie-Lee Curtis style. hahaaaa. No one else was helping me, so I had to help myself. You do what you have to do.

Right after the Judge in Wenatchee hung up on me before an important hearing, the preliminary fact finding hearing, I knew I was getting nowhere in Washington. I didn't know where to go for sure, but I needed objective documentation of my injuries. Wenatchee CPS and "the department" was covering for the doctors. So the next morning, I packed a quick bag, and walked around the corner. I knew the next thing coming down the pipe would be an order that I go to a psych ward for evaluation or something. If he wouldn't even let ANYONE, including ME, represent me and my son, at that hearing, he might say I was incompetent or try to get findings for this. So I was out of there. I walked around the back of the apartments and saw someone packing for a trip. I asked where they were going and if they could get me as far as Seattle, their direction. They said yes. They were packing for a camping trip.

So it was me in the backseat full of dog hair. It really seemed safe, and they were okay with me, because I lived next door, so I didn't appear to be a vagrant, but I was the one who had second thoughts after he started making suggestive comments. He asked for pot too. Or if I wanted any. That was it, if I wanted any and I said no. But he smoked while driving.

He decided I wasn't going to be any "fun" so he dropped me off at a reststop. Where I hitched a ride from a really great Canadian truckdriver. I didn't have enough money for a bus and couldn't sit on a bus anyway, so truck seats or other cars had better accomodations. The Canadian guy was great. He was funny and politically minded, and we had a good chat. He took me as far as a truck stop in Everett and then he had to take off. I took his name and number in case I was in danger later, because he was safe.

So then I'm waiting around the truckstop, and I ran into some guys who I was nice to, but who were trashing me behind my back. I actually had some truckdrivers say look out for them becaue they were no good and saying shit about me. Acting nice to my face though. I believe I talked too much to them. I probably told them about my litigation with the Catholic church and problems thereafter. A different guy said he'd take me and I got in his truck and there was only one bed. I said, "Where am I supposed to sleep?" He said, "Right there." I said, "Well where are YOU going to sleep then?" and he said we could share and he wouldn't touch me. He said he'd sleep on top of the covers and I'd sleep underneath. It didn't sound too good, but he was going towards Georgia, which is where I told everyone I wanted to go. There was only one seat, his seat. So I figured I was on the back of the bed the whole way. So I was lucky, because I actually stayed the night there, his head facing one way, my head facing the other way, and he didn't try anything. I was going to sleep on the floor but there were tools all over. The next morning, he decided he had "a girlfriend" who "wouldn't like this very much". What he realized, was that I wasn't a trucker 'ho. He paid for my breakfast, where I saw the same guys from the day before, who knew I was wanting to go to Georgia. They stayed through breakfast for awhile and then left. I went upstairs and I was waiting where the phones were, at a table, and this guy comes along and asks what I'm doing and where I'm going. I told him I was trying to find a ride to Georgia or that direction. He said he was going to Texas and he could take me that far.

So he goes to his truck, gets out information, and lists me as his "girlfriend" so the insurance would take me, and faxes all the info in, at the station. My drivers license with my photo and it took FOREVER. It was taking so long, I wondered what he was doing really. It shouldn't have taken that long. Finally, as I'm ready to take off, he said it went through. So as I'm riding with him (he has two bunks so no need to sleep on the same one), he tells me he's a born again christian but that I should look into Catholic Charities when I get to Georgia, and that he volunteered for them for years and they were a good organization. I didn't tell him I knew all about John Kaempf's (and Judge Warrens) "Catholic Charities" connections. I just nodded and said, mmhmmm. He said, even though he was Protestant, they were very good.

I noted, before we left, that he gave a signal to the truckers parked across from us. It was a man and a woman, and I thought they didn't look too good--sort of that smirk/glare towards me, and then my truckdriver gave them this signal like they knew eachother. I noticed the other trucks license plates were from Georgia.

After I was on the road with him, he never tried anything either, but I started wondering just who his truck company was owned by. So I looked it up on my computer. I saw Farmers'. Farmers' was either one of the main owners or the insurance company for them. I am thinking it was a larger connection but I can't remember now. Anyway, this truck driver looked over, and he didn't like what I was doing. He got mad and asked me about it, and I just said, nicely, that I was just curious. So after that he said he could only take me as far as this tiny, in-the-middle-of-nowhere town in Texas. I looked it up on the map, and if were dropped THERE, there would be no way out. Maybe ever. No trucks went by, and it would be the middle of the night when we arrived. So I knew I had to get out but because he was so testy about everything, I told him I really, really, had to go to the bathroom, just as we approached Albuquerque, NM.

Whenever I got scared about anything, I thought about my son, and that kept me going. I just had to get far enough away from the hell-holes.

He didn't want to stop. He wanted to drop me off in the middle of nowhere, where I'd be trapped, I knew. So I told him I didn't want to cause an accident in his truck, because it was so nice and clean (the guy was obsessive-compulsive about cleaning) so he stopped at a gas station in Alburquerque and I stupidly left my bags behind as I went to the bathroom. When I got back, he was putting something into a large manilla envelope. I didn't think anything of it except that he had a nasty scowl on his face. He tells me, "The ride ends here" and to get my stuff and get out. Of course, that was what I'd planned. I got my things and said, "Thank you so much!" in a very nice voice and told him to "Drive safe". It was after he left that I realized he had stolen not only all the papers to the computer I had on loan from a friend, but he took my only piece of jewelry as well, my necklace with a pendant. He didn't take any of the actual computer stuff, just ALL of the information for it,...everything.

I was at this gas station in a bad part of Alburquerqe wondering what to do next. Everyone knew I wanted to go to Georgia by then. But all the trucks were going the other direction. So I told the gas station guy what was going on and if it was okay to hang out a little bit and he was nice after I joked with him and teased him, and he said yes. This guy then pulls up in an old Volvo stationwagon. Who would be my new "cutter" friend. He looked really young and he asked to use the phone at the gas station. I approached him and asked if it would be alright to get a ride at least facing the right direction. He said yes, if I didn't mind going on an errand with him first. I said okay, as he drives to this restaurant where he pulled off a drug deal. I'd never been around one before, but I figured that's what it was, because of how he had to meet these people, and I think he told me about the pills. Prescription pills. I had told him pot helped with my migraines. I noticed bandaids on his wrists and he had light cutting marks. He said he worked at a grocery store. At first, for a split second I thought maybe he was undercover FBI, wondering what I was doing or something, because he had a ratty shirt but really nicely spiffed black shoes. I will get into details about my excursion with him and his friends later. I was "rolling" with a guy who said he was a con artist, after the likes of the guy in "You Can't Catch Me" and a cocaine Judge buddy who was the best racecar driver I've ever had the living daylights scared out of me by. I was trying to "roll" but I'm a mom, and I had to draw a line.

After I spent a week there, almost, trying to figure out what to do next, I got another ride from a good trucker who was formerly in the military. We hit it off and laughed a lot. All the way to Pennsylvania I think it was. I can't remember which state. I was nervous to get left off because he'd been safe and normal, but then this guy at the station wanted to pay for a bus ticket for me to Washington D.C., and said I could go to Georgia from there. It was actually a fluke, because I had a ticket further than D.C., and I was planning to keep going to Atlanta, but changed my mind.

I think I stumped some people who were already probably trying to set things up against me in Atlanta. Because I never arrived.

And that's another part of the story I'll save for later, how I ended up staying in D.C.

But I can attest, I didn't "ho" my way over, or across the country. I tried to use charm. Something I've never cared to use on people in Wenatchee. I was discerning, but I figure a lot of times, when you give people your trust, they want to BE more trustworthy. So even if I was careful, I tried to show respect and faith in them. Which is, I think, what kept me safe.

However, I do believe I thwarted some plans that lay in store for me in Atlanta, Georgia. They probably had to do some quick work to move their little "team" to D.C. in a hurry. It is possible that Farmers' or someone within Farmers', passed on information, or that someone in the Catholic church got info.

Once I was in D.C, I started having horrific computer problems and I warned whoever it was that if they didn't stop the fuck what they were doing, I knew who took the computer papers and who might have access to this computer and I would publish everything. All of a sudden, it stopped. When I say I "wrote them", I just mean I typed up some "letters" on this computer, because I knew someone was already monitoring the computer and could see what I wrote, possibly. And after I sent out the warnings, it all came to a halt. I had nice catchy titles to draw their attention to what I wrote, like, "TO THE FUCKERS WHO ARE MESSING WITH THE COMPUTER" or whatever.

Oh yeah, and by the way, some of "the team" whomever they're all comprised by, knew I was in Alburquerque. I recognized a couple there and I was being watched. Especially after I set up my computer in the area. What was weird was that the people I recognized had children with them and they did the last time I had seen them too. Why they did their surveillance with kids in tow is beyond me.