Sunday, September 15, 2013

Edward Lee Howard and Torture of U.S. Citizens by U.S (13)

pg. 110.  E.H. says the KGB says he can't be both a womanizer and a homosexual.  My comment here is I remember making some kind of similar joke to my Dad that I thought maybe hurt his feelings at the time but I didn't know why.  E.H. says he was being defamed with every attack possible and knew it was coming from Corridor 2-D at Langley where the press section of International Activities was located.

He says he gave a message to Mary that he was okay and she responded emotionally to the message and E.H. was excited to hear her voice. 

Pg. 111 He says Aleksandrovitch Kryuchkov would like to visit you and see how you are.  E.H. says he didn't know who he was but was okay with meeting him and is told he's in church of KGB's first main directorate.  He sits down to lunch with Sasha and they'd established rapport and he commented on how well dressed he was that day.  He says this man is somewhat elusive and not seen much so he says he gets the hint and he'll put on his only sport coat and tie--then he jokes if he plays poker.

I think the joke is, given the "only sport coat and tie" comment, slightly suggestive of strip poker or what I remember playing at Locklyn's house and my parents house, as a toddler and little girl.  If Kryuchkov is to suggest crying, I might think of my Mom but if it's to suggest crutches, I got those from Springers so it's possible the suggestion is that my disappearing property is going to Springers who then take it...who knows.  He says this man is interested in his welfare.  So I remember Alan coming to my house when I was keeping a calendar about the days I was taken to his house to be electrocuted.  He said I was "obsessive-compulsive".  He was wearing a jacket on the day he came to look.  The other person who had crutches was, I think, my Dad, and he got them loaned from someone at his workplace.  There were 2 pairs of crutches and one was sort of to mask over where the first set had come from and why.

Also, it doesn't really fit here, but I sort of remember being in a golf cart with some people on a regular golf course at some time in the my early life and I also remember having "wellies".  What I mean by this, is rubber boots for the rain, but I remember having them at another place that wasn't my house in Moses Lake or with a relative.  I think I wore them in another country somewhere.  Later, when I was 9 years old or older, maybe 11 or so, "jelly shoes" came out which were plastic shoes that had lots of vents and worn in the summer and I liked mine a lot...they were pink with light sparkles and I wore them despite the fact they gave me the worst blisters of my life.  But I had some kind of English or Canadian rubber boots, I think, in another country, maybe around age 2-4 or something.  It is even possible I ended up with jelly shoes to confuse my remembrance of wellie shoes.  My Mom didn't like them at all, my jelly shoes.  In the U.S. rubber boots would be rubber boots, but I remember having "wellies" when I was little and from what I see, it looks like a UK thing.  I remember being outside wearing them.  The other thing I vaguely remember is a house set up higher with stairs to it like a townhouse.  I remember being carried up the stairs and out for some reason as well, cradle style.  Like going from that house where I was visiting or being babysat and then going somewhere else.

E.H. jokes this man is probably tall, overweight, and with a couple of guards, will slap him on the back, drink some cognac and ask him to remember everything he learned back in the CIA.

This also might sound odd, but I sort of remember going into this house and then sitting down with a man who wasn't my Dad or Grandpa and having hot cocoa and he asked me what I was learning. It was sort of a routine.  Later I think I had cocoa with my Dad and I remember having cold cocoa and strawberry Quik with Granny but this was some other house and I am not sure, but I think I went there after my plane trips.  Like, I took a plane there and then back home.  If it was Mike, maybe this is why my Mom cried when he took my Mickey Mouse watch back from me, or someone else with that name did when I was in Idaho.  I might have had cocoa with a royal too, but this other house was a townhouse, and then if I went another place maybe to the garden or a room for something to drink and to talk.  I slightly think Charlie was around but maybe I'm wrong.  The man in the townhouse wasn't Charlie though.  I had a bottle there, at the townhouse place.  I don't know if this is the same place as well, but I remember a crib by a window with semi-sheer white curtains.  I don't know what triggered my memory but maybe something about a couple of guards and cognac.  I even remember he specifically said the words "CIA".  Hennesee-I-A.  Maybe there was no mincing of words because everyone thought I'd forget or it didn't matter or it would be remembered as a joke. But he would say tell me what you learned at the CIA.  He would be standing up, pouring himself a drink, and I would be sitting at the table with my hot cocoa and then he'd sit down and say this.  Whatever liquor it was he drank, it was amber-colored, like cognac or whiskey or something like that.  Then, what is really crazy, is that after all this bonding, the last thing I remember of him is him sitting me down on a hot heater to be burned.  Like an old-fashioned radiator heater and he kept me there and looked mean and I was, as this very small kid, shocked beyond belief.  I had thought he was my hero, my friend.  I never forgot that part, that he burned me.  I have blocked it out most of the time, conveniently, but it's not a memory that disappeared for good.

It was a kind of upstairs kitchen, like once you were in the house, you were up sort of above ground or traffic level, and if I was looking down on a map at it, if the street or yard was North, I sat by the East window and he poured his drink from the West cupboard side, and the hall was South.

When he was burning me I screamed for Carol.  I don't remember a woman that much but there was a woman around somewhere in my life named Carol, when I was very young.  I was told I couldn't sleep in the crib anymore because they were having a baby boy named James.  I am positive about this part, and I know it had nothing to do with my brother Levi.  This was some other family that babysat me.  The woman wasn't very loving and I remember her being more distant and cool so I don't have as many memories of her but I know she took me out of my crib to torture me and I remember some of it.  The man I remember a lot, specifically at the table in the kitchen, with him pouring a routine drink of alcohol for himself, and cocoa for me and saying, "Tell me what you learned at the CIA today".  It was sort of like that man from Walker movies where the man defects from the U.S. Navy and is saying "Tell me something new".  Well this man wasn't saying "Tell me something new" exactly but "Tell me what you learned from the CIA".  Then after all of that soft warm kitchen talk, and sleeping in his crib, he sat me down on a burning hot heater.  I know Jim Sandberg imitated something sort of like that when I was much older, but this was when I was very young, and I am pretty sure it wasn't in the U.S.  The house with the steps to it, had a red door as well.  I remember the red door because it was so bright and cheerful and we went to it all the time, back and forth.  I overheard when they said they couldn't babysit me anymore because someone was taking my bed.  Basically, they told my Mom their baby boy needed the crib and they didn't have room for me.

They tortured me first before they let me go.  I thought, as a kid, he liked me until he had a baby on the way.  With her, I thought she never liked me.  Every time she took me out of my crib it was to torture me.  I drank my bottles in the crib by myself.  And she had brown hair.  Brown hair or very brown eyebrows.  I think possibly I had another woman babysit at some time that I liked and called out for now and then, but this one was torturing me every time she could and she would approach my crib with an evil sadistic smile on her face.  She was one who put electrodes on my body to electrocute me.

She would take me out of my crib, lay me down and affix electrodes to my body and then use a box to do something and I just remember I didn't feel good and then she'd put me back in my crib again.  It was the only thing she ever did with me.  Then with the man, when I was older and telling him about the CIA, I remember for some reason having some kind of a school book bag type of thing with me, and yet I wasn't in even pre-school yet. I had pre-school later, in Moses Lake, but this was something else I was coming home from, dropping my bag near my chair or in the kitchen and then having cocoa to talk. So it's sort of odd that decades later I was in Washington D.C. being given a computer bag that was similar to the book bag I'd had, from a CIA contractor, when my book bag was associated with a man who asked me what I was learning at the CIA.  I remember he meant my parents and some others.  I was being taken in between countries basically.  I suppose if the CIA contractor in D.C. gave me a computer bag in 2008, if it was supposed to approximate or parallel something, it would be the book bag I had with me when talking to a CIA "contractor" living in another country when I was between the ages of 2-4.  I'm sure I was there before age 2 as well, because I remember my bottle and the crib and being tortured from my crib as a baby.  I didn't have really anything. I had my bottle and maybe a stuffed animal and I remember a mobile above my head.  They were the birds of paradise.  I went from the birds of papua new guinea to a guinea pig named Squiggy.  I spent hours, hours, in that crib, looking up at birds of paradise and then being taken out to be tortured.

 (from wiki:  birds-of-paradise are members of the family Paradisaeidae of the order Passeriformes. The majority of species in this family are found in Papua New Guinea, Indonesian Papua (Papua and Irian Jaya Province) and its satellites, with a few species occurring in the Maluku Islands and eastern Australia. The family has forty-one species in 14 genera.)

So now we have a song by Chris Martin too, don't we?  the British musician, about a girl dreaming of "paradise".  I didn't dream of paradise.  I stared at paper "paradise birds" all day.  Get it straight assholes.  Oh yeah, and I remember, bitches, the electrode and electrocution shit.  I mean, is this what Paris Hilton is named after?  My paradise bird-and-torture experiences between London, Canada, and the U.S.?  The mobile was moved to the U.S. and then when it was taken away I freaked out because it was the only thing I had bonded to--paper.

Which explains why later my parents acted so odd when I was flying paper planes around the house.  That was to distance and separate me from remembering the whole "paradise birds" mobile thing.  I don't know if they were of paper but possibly.  They were made out of something, and they were birds of paradise in show, in pastel colors, flying up above my head.  I didn't have them for a long time.  They were like, a new addition, and then they were taken away too.  I asked my Mom about them when they were removed and she said I never had any.  I never had a mobile she said.  But I remember because it's almost all I looked at for hours as a baby at one time and it was in another country first.  They were sort of sleek birds of paradise but had some show.

So then, guess what?  the Big Cover is that all of a sudden women on my mother's side of the family got parrots.  Like it was all about parrots and I wasn't supposed to remember London's "birds of paradise" above my head.

So what is even stranger, is didn't Lady Diana have a bunch of paper cranes made after she died?  Like someone released a bunch of paper crane birds. Was that a wish in her will?  I mean, it's really close to the birds in the mobile above my head.  But of course, the intelligence people around the world don't know about any of this.

pg. 111 E.H. says he was expected to meet him at 4:00 and arrived a half hour early to tell him.  He started chain-smoking and was nervous and said the man was serious and to be serious and calm. So E.H. says "Was this Darth Vader himself I was meeting with, I wondered?  What was the worst he could do?  Kick me out the Soviet Union?  Stop me from listening to the Voice of America?"

Well, I don't think that was Darth Vader, but how about having strangers burn your ass off after pretending to be your friend?  He says 3 men got out and came to the house.  He noticed the Generals black boots and mentally nicknamed him "Dickey boots".  Kryuchkov introduced him to two other men, Ivanovitch Mechulayev who spoke excellent English and Victor Ivanovitch who was tallest and had sharp Germanic features.

This part sort of reminds me of when the men came to my Grandpa Garrett's house.  I also remembered that for whatever reason, my Grandpa tested me on "mercy" before they came over. I  don't know if he did this to see where I stood or to reduce my endurance so they wouldn't actually know how tough I really was.  I refused to say "mercy" or give in, the first time, with him, until after he had broken bones in my hand and before passing out I said "mercy" but my hand was broken first before I would say the word.  Then I think I was encouraged to say it more quickly or who knows, but these men showed up and sat on the couch and watched and my hand was already broken and I thought I was supposed to say mercy in front of them so I did, much more quickly.  They didn't witness my hand being broken, which was in private. I couldn't believe my Grandpa would break my hand but he did and maybe he couldn't believe I wouldn't say "mercy".  I had the impression I was supposed to 'give in' early so I did.  Then it looked like they didn't like it or were sort of impressed but then they wanted the box out and to watch me being electrocuted.  But then I was was and then I was deliberately ruined.  My Mom even knew but then they kept taking it further with Springers to destroy me.

They didn't like it.  Some men might find a woman with strength highly attractive, and others find it a form of competition against their egos.   I think they just thought I was pretty, so get rid of my brain and determination and then they'd be happy enough with a bimbo that didn't remember anything they'd done, who couldn't read their minds, decipher their codes, and expose their shit to the world.  Because I was NOT a U.S. PLAYER.  How many little girls do you know, that will sit there and let Grandpa slowly, gradually, pull their hand apart until bones are breaking?  Just because they are too "stubborn" to say "mercy"?

I was called "Stubborn" after that and was all I got out of it.  Okay, and if you cut me, don't cut me on my burn side.  These bastards ruined my life.

E.H. says they sat at the table and had tea and cookies and welcomed him to Moscow.  He remarked on the professionalism his people showed in getting him to the Soviet Union.

Here I would think about how I told Lady Diana I didn't think something would be "professional" so I think it's a deliberate link between her and the men I met, one of which I was told was Prince Philip and another was commented as Charlie but I wasn't sure and then there was this cop Mike.  My own Dad later made all kinds of comments about needing the "Philips screwdriver".  Or when I was looking for a gun or pocketknife in the drawer to see it and look at things, and then claiming I was just looking for a screwdriver, it turned into my Dad asking for a Philips screwdriver.  She definitely had a key and was trying to teach me how to execute myself.

So E.H. says, pg. 112, that the General had a dominant personality and tenacity of a terrier.  I sort of remember there may have been a small dog at the London townhouse place but I'm not positive about that.  I don't know. I do know that there were two dogs there when the men showed up.  One was Penny and the other was some dog I didn't know they had brought, a kind of small Collie.  The Collie sort of looked like "Tory", a Sheltie we had later that disappeared, a sable with slightly Collie head, more than Sheltie.

E.H. says the General tells him they never should have turned him out that first day and that he is lucky he's safe.  He says they said they'd all be working together as a team to analyze the situation with twin objectives of keeping him safe and reuniting him with family.

Well, for E.H. this may have been true.  What I can say for me, is that I was somehow viewed as an enemy apparently, by my entire family and their contacts.

He says he told the General how much his impression of his service had changed in the 9 days he'd been in the Soviet Union and he tells them he thought he might just be locked up in a safe house and interrogated.  He says they said "we do not all wear black hats".

My comment here is that being locked up in a safe house, here is compared to the equivalence of a nuthouse or a jail.  To be held prisoner and interrogated, though this isn't quite as harsh as he implies himself, to me it makes me think what has my life been, exactly, in the United States?

It has been a life of imprisonment.  Then he says they don't all wear black hats so I guess I think about that and can think of my Dad and brother as having black hats, but so do many.  More than anything, I think about the knit hats all of the men wore who came to watch my hand stretched and then to torture me with an electrocution box.  I believe the harsher electrocution was not when all of them were there, but Mike, specifically.  It was a specific cop, who also had his gun in my mouth and at my head that cranked it up. 

E.H. says he asked what the black hat comment meant and they say he was probably referring to Sergei Yurchenko, a double defector who fingered him as a CIA mole.  To me, this sort of brings the cop Mike to mind, who may have even been the same Mike as the one who burned me as a younger child on the radiator heater after asking me what I learned from the CIA, and was on one of the private planes.  I don't know.

Kryuchov says he should be out of the small dacha to a new one and enjoy some sports and cultural events.  Again, here I think of the small room where I was asked about the CIA but not sure what it's about.  This was definitely not "trailer" stuff. I mean, I've seen a lot of movies being produced in the last several years, using parts of my life story as a template for what they want to do, and screwing up historical facts and making it look more tawdry and sub-sub-terrestrial than it was, where I've seen trailers implied, dirty hippies, bad choices in the wilderness, sluts on smut, and bums around a burning fire can with kids dragging trees around in ratty pants.  I mean, that is nice to think of things as below-grade but what I was involved in was highest level torture and "business" that you can get to and none of it was done in "trailers".  I mean, MI5, mossad, CIA and FBI and mafias might like to cheapen it to make it seem unofficial but it was all 100% government grade A, and hate crime sponsored and paid for by these governments.

The other comment I have, going back farther to the "dickey boots" comment is that my Grandpa Baird (Dick Baird) wore heavy boots for work in the orchards and the first terrifying experience I remember with him was that he stood on my neck with his boot once, as I laid on the floor in a sleeping bag by the t.v. as a kid.  I don't even know why he did it, but with no warning he walked over, pressed his boot on top of my neck and stood on me.  He was former U.S. Army and I don't know what else, but I never forgot his boots because he stood on my neck with them and he stood on my hand once too.  I looked up, when I was able to, and his expression was extreme deep-seated hatred and violence with the beadiest and meanest eyes you ever saw and a slow satisfaction in harming me.  I was totally shocked.  I think he did other things, but there was at least a period of time I didn't notice anything at all until one day and then I thought, "What in the...?"   He beat me once, when I said something about his son Loren, but sneaking up to me to stand on my neck was a shock.

I am pretty sure one of the chickens Granny had was named "Henny-Penny" and I don't know if it was after the man who had cognac with me while I had cocoa or not.  She had a bunch of very nice hens.

I also remember why my Grandpa stood on my neck and he didn't just stand on my neck but the side of my face once, sarcastically commenting that it looked like a real "profile" now.  When he was smashing the side of my face into the carpet, with his boot on my cheek, he made some comment about the name "Cameo" and how it was a "real profile".  He started standing on my hand, face, and neck, when I wouldn't sleep upstairs anymore and tried to sleep where other kids were for security reasons.  The reason I wanted to sleep downstairs with other kids was for two reasons.  One was that I was sexually molested upstairs, and the second was that Granny electrocuted me upstairs in the bed.  Granny would put a wet cloth across my forehead and wet my feet and have me sit in a bedpan and then had maybe that same electrocution box, but it was something to electrocute with, and she used it on me while I was upstairs in the bed.  I didn't have any illness or reason for needing a bed-pan myself, but it was conducting electricity more and when I "wet the bed" out of fright from it, it was in the bedpan and not the bedding.

When I think of how they did this to me, I seriously question whether I'm related to anyone, on either side of my family, Dicksie or Bob's side, but if so, then I would question why they did this to me specifically and if they did it with any other grand-kid, or kid, because I don't remember any other kid saying such a thing was done to them.  My Grandpa is the main one I remember molesting me, but his son Loren was touching me while I was in bed trying to sleep.  My Grandpa would go up the stairs, sit on the small bed in the attic cove at the top of the stairs, and expect oral sex or hand sex.  I think Granny got mad and worried I'd remember and tell people and maybe that's why she electrocuted me but I don't know her reasons for sure.  There was a story they told about how I was "sleepwalking" one night and Granny was downstairs next to the mirror and about to wash her face and had a washcloth next to the sink and I supposedly walked over, picked it up, and put it in the toilet.  What I remember was happening, when I was not sleepwalking, is I was forced into a bed and sometimes Granny dipped the washcloth in my pee from the bed-pan and then put it on my forehead while she cranked the electrocution box and would say I had a "fever".  There was also some kind of water or something put down by the bottom of my feet and the bedpan with water was moved to my feet sometimes, for some reason, but I'm not sure why.  It wasn't just bed-pans and peeing the bed though, it was electrocution.

Later, after they quit doing this, she would tuck me in with lots of blankets and put a "bladder" she would call it, or a "water bottle" which was a pink rubber bag full of warm water, by my feet, and this was supposed to maybe have me forget the other things done to me.  She would pray too, because I was having nightmares every night, so she would pray for "angels" to watch over me and protect me.  Sometimes I would ask her to read the Bible to me and she'd read a part and pray and I would finally fall asleep.

I was being electrocuted and abused, with U.S. government knowledge and approval, by both sides of my family and there is no possible way my son Oliver is safe or has ever been safe in this country.  For whatever reason, the U.S. hates my guts and hates and fears my son enough because of what they've done to us already.

I also remembered today, because I got a bulletin board for using push pins with, about being burned with push pins by my Dad around the same time the Lady Diana and my parents and some tried to kill me from a plane.  It was a corkscrew kind of board and there were not tacks first, but push pins.  The push pins were all different colors and I used to play with them on the board, sort of like a light-brights toy but before I got light-brights.  I once made a "ladybug" I said, with the red and black ones and my Mom didn't like it.  I got some pins today and picked out green, white, blue, and brass, because although I had used other ones, like red and yellow, my Dad started torturing me with them.  Specifically, I was getting tortured if I chose the yellow or red ones and today I could just look at the yellow ones and start to feel like I had to throw up.  I remember using some brown ones that had a nice earthy sense to them, as well, but the only reason I couldn't get red and yellow ones was because of remembering torture and it was some weird game that was being played or association with the colors being made.  So then my Mom was taking  out some of the colors, one by one, or someone was, and they were disappearing until all that was left was white and blue.  I sometimes had arranged just specific colors and did this myself a few times, but then that's all that was left and right when that happened with the bulletin board and push pins in Moses Lake, I was then being shown Diana's blue and white Sapphire ring.  Meanwhile, I was being burned with the push pins and then poked with the other side.  My Dad was going into very wild temper tantrums and this is all after they'd tried to kill me from the plane.

The other thing is that I think the man and woman lying face down on the bed, or one with his face to the side, I knew the man wasn't someone I knew, but I had thought the woman was my Mom and I think it wasn't.  So I don't know who they were but they were tied up.

The other person who stepped on my face was someone from the plane or from another country.  My Mom is claiming she was never on a plane, except for 4 times in her life, but there is more than one of the Dicksies because there are twins.  I asked one of them if they were kept in the pantry or how they were hidden, but they were definitely being used by the U.S. government.  Today one of the Dicksies accused me of having "false memories" but none of them are false.  They are things I've always remembered, since I was a kid, and then my memory is refreshed now and then.  Most of the time, I block it out.  The plane trips, for example, were every single week.  It's not like we went camping each week and then got back to Moses Lake to the house after a couple days of camping once a week--we were on international flights. 

pg. 112.  E.H. mentions the "twin objectives".  He doesn't just use the term "twin" to describe something, he uses it to point out and mention and make known:  "twins".  The Bobs are twins, and there are very noticeable differences.  I mean, very very identical, but if you look, they are different.  With my Mom, it is the same but women can do a few more things with hair and make-up so sometimes it's harder to tell, but there are 2 or 3 of the Dicksies.

pg. 113.  E.H. says the General said there was a worldwide hunt for me and he was sending a cable to officers to let them know be on the look-out for Howard. 

pg.  114.  E.H. says the Russians tell him he'll need a disguise for moving around town because he was in the Soviet Union "black" (i.e., 'undisclosed').  To me, this is an admission or a very strong attempt to get across the fact, to someone looking for clues, that what was going on in the U.S. that he knows about, with regard to the "hunt for red October" (me) was a hard-core black operation.  That means highly secretive and highly netted and guarded with no escape at any level.

I would still like to meet Lee, his son, because it would be to talk, but what I think it comes down to, is he was worried about Lee and his wife, but in one sense they were more publicly known and had better protection that way.  It was known they worked for the government, and they were known to be related to a man who was known to be part of an FBI manhunt.  I was not "known" and therefore I was in the worst kind of danger because he knew the U.S. would use their black ops excuses and cover to ruin me.  If he knew I was completely surrounded, in every way, by dangerous U.S. and other employees, he knew any kind of move might mean they'd try to kill me and likely they had already given him this message, or suggested they'd go after others as well.

One other time my Mom tried to escape, or wanted me to think she was trying, was on a day in the car when she wrote on me in pen that said "Please, I need help" or something like that.  There was something written in one language and then this, and she sent me out to show it to someone.  That person called a cop, who came to the car with me in it, and took out a knife and cut me.

Of the different times I personally tried to escape, as a kid, it was in the following ways:

1.  Running away to tell Herm Danielson to call police.  He pulled a gun on me.
2.  Telling the man who asked me what I learned from the CIA (who was in another country) my Mom hurt me or tortured me.  He sat me down on a hot radiator heater and burned me.
3.  Telling Locklyn and her kids I'd call a lawyer or the cops.  A lawyer and a cop showed up and handcuffed me and threatened me with jail.
4.  Going to someone with messages of "help" written in pen on my body.  A cop was notified who came over and cut me and threatened us not to try that again.
5.  Screaming for help from a school principals office, where he beat me.  His secretary did nothing.
6.  Telling the school counselor yes my parent's spanked me (when I was interviewed after I ran away from school).  They sent me to Alan Springer to be electrocuted next door, who came over with his wife Tammy, and took down my calendar that was keeping track of the days they electrocuted me.
7.  Trying to tell an FBI woman or cop about pedophilia.  She disregarded my claim.
8.  Trying to tell a cop named Mike, in Bonner's Ferry, ID, about being electrocuted.  He said there was nothing going on after saying, "You have one shot."  He then put his official gun in my mouth and had me electrocuted more.

All of these attempts, not including some of them, were made by me before I was age 13.  This is not an exhaustive list--it is a few of the times I contacted official U.S. and Canadian/British authorities about crimes against humanity perpetrated against me as a child.

My living conditions were such that I was such a high priority black op mission, and the crimes were so bad, and the persons involved of such high position and stature in their respective countries, I was never left "unguarded" at any time.  There was no "loop-hole" to escape through, or person that stood as a gateway out.  Any time I called police, the U.S. had specific officers attend the call who would torture me or abuse my trust.  Any time I called Canadian or British officials, they did the same.  I was surrounded, where I lived, with an invisible barbed wire fence.

So when E.H. mentions "black hats" and "black" (undisclosed location) and twins, believe me, even if I was not a twin, there was no way the officials wanted me to escape or mention anything about what they did.

Another mark of torture that I have, which is something that was later turned into an excuse to cover it up, is near the base of my spinal cord.  I broke my neck, higher up, in the actual neck area, but further down my spine, near the tailbone but not that far down, I had a scar from an implant of some kind or torture there and it was prior to having an epidural.  My epidural was a nightmare and wasn't turned on or didn't work, however, the incision made for that doesn't explain the scar from incision that I had there before the epidural or the size that is still visible.  While a regular spinal tap might leave some kind of scar, for whatever reason, the scar I have is far too large to suggest even normal procedures.

I had a procedure done in a hospital but even that doesn't explain the size of the scar.  They had me face-down in a special bed that had a cut-out for your face for a long time.  I got my first comic books ("Archie")  sent to me at that time and tried to look at them while I was in that position.  It was basically like a hospital-grade iron maiden.  My Dad later got a dummy thing that talked and put on ventriloquist acts by pulling the string in the back to make him talk, and told me one day before that, "You know what you are?  You're a Chatty Kathy.  Do you know what that is?  It's a doll that talks if you pull the string in its back".  It wasn't like I was in that bed for 1-2 days.  I was there for a long time, and they rotated me around to prevent "bed sores", which I got anyway.  I had blisters from it.

At one point, I had my back walked on and crushed--pressed down, by a man who belittled me and my name.  I will go into that later.

pg.  114 E.H. says Kryuchov was not the Darth Vader that the CIA taught him to expect.  There was no talk of information, only about "my family and my personal situation".  He says the Soviets were portrayed as the embodiment of all evil and that Reagan "himself spoke darkly of the 'Evil Empire'."  He says the KGB was made out to be in charge of beating up officers, slashing tires, and looting apartments.

Here I would say it's off about the slashing tires and looting apartments, because without my being involved with any political or government group, of my own will, I had this being done to me on a constant basis.  My comment about the Darth Vader thing, is if I were to think who my personal "Darth Vader" would be, I am not sure.  I'm told E.H. was my biological father but where would I have talked to him?  I talked about CIA with a man in a townhouse who was friendly and then punished me for saying something about my Mom.  I was babysat by some people in London, to my knowledge, when the flights went there, and aside from that my Grandpa Garrett was the only other person I met but he was supposedly my Grandpa, not my Dad.  I would say it would be a reference farther back than my Grandpa Garrett.

E.H. says his hosts were not squeezing him for information.  He says they were waiting for the larger dacha to be finished  and he would move in as its first resident.  He says they brought him American periodicals and they reviewed what was happening in the U.S. and character assassination data was leaked about him.  They figured Mary was under full-time surveillance, house bugged and phone tapped.  They had exercise and poker continued and then someone got tired of seeing him in the same clothes all the time and brought him more.

I remember some of the strip poker was not voluntary by, it seemed, anyone at my house.  There was some mention at some point, about Alan Springer, or he showed up, or it was something to the effect of Alan Springer's doing and possibly it was all being recorded on a VHS for more blackmail, because he was the one blowing my brains out with electrocution at that time.  I really did know it was getting extremely serious.  I know Alan directly asked once, about the poker and he said something that made me think he was getting a tape out of it.  He was involved in it in some way.  I was forced to strip down to everything, in strip poker, except my socks but it was the first thing I took off.  So basically, I started with one sock, and then I was told, and it was Alan who made it clear, we couldn't start with socks and had to leave socks on.  So everything else but our socks.  It went from being kind of silly to being depressing and it was done in the living room which is where the t.v. was but I don't remember film and cameras.  The Springers had the video camcorder.  After this was done, Scotty Springer came over to the house with the camcorder and took it all around our house and inside the house.  He was just a kid, but that's what he did and I remembered wondering why he was doing that and I thought it was just showing off.  During the forced strip poker, we were given new clothes by the Springers.  They said their Dad didn't need all of the suits and I could have some of the clothes too, and my brother. I remember that was when my Dad looked really depressed.  The Mormon child psychologist and family were forcing my family to play strip poker together and then taking video of it, and then they thought they'd give us more clothes to wear for stripping with.  I was told, directed, to wear some of the new clothes I was given, and strip it off.  

pg. 116.  E.H. says he was excited to leave the "golden cage" to more spacious quarters.

Pg. 117 Chapter 10:  The Golden Safe House

He says the new dacha is near Veshki  and they stop at a green gate to go in.  The house is a one-story Scandanavian-style brick house.  He says a mature blond woman appeared at the door and mentions ornate Hungarian furniture and a "study-cum-solarium".    It is surrounded by woods and the bar is stocked with German beer, tonic waters, Coke and fruit juice.

This sort of makes me think, with the Scandanavian style, of Erica Wiltbanks house and her family, in Sherwood, where I moved from Moses Lake, was also Mormon, like the Springers.  He says its furnished with Hungarian furniture.  To me, I think of the connection between Mormon Springers torturing me and the idea the Wiltbanks knew them and of my transfer to their town. Wiltbanks were connected to Middleton and several other Mormon families, and non-Mormon families as well, like Robin Bechtold, who she dated seriously after they had tried to kill me.  I think he was actually dating her already at the time, but casually and then they became more serious, and his family was working with theirs by then.  The other transition I would notice is his mention of "character assassination" a few paragraphs before talking about the new town.  As to his mention of the bar, or what's in the bar, where he last brought up a bar in connection with underlying suggestion about Dr. Fallon and the men at the "piano bar" on Canyon Road, where I was being trained to kill myself my brake failure...I would say German beer would represent Bechtolds, tonic water a carryover from Maiers, Coke for Rasmussens and Jenny Locke, and fruit juices for ?  eager Jews?

Pg. 118.  Igor tells him the house is monitored and that they have a kind of light beam coming up from a metal device.  I would say this might approximate the idea of a car (metal) and use of headlights to blind while attempting murder.  He says the food they served was served in grand style by the hostess.  He mentions several delicacies and then says bananas were also served, which was rare in the Soviet Union.

I guess to bananas, what I might think of, for myself, not E.H. or his experiences at all, is that we sometimes got a treat of banana splits around the time Springer was forcing me to also do French licks at his house with whipped cream from a can.  The banana splits were maybe before this, and I remember it being a fun treat to have.  However, I also remember telling my Mom, when she tried to give me bananas in the morning, in Moses Lake, telling her I didn't want any because "they make my stomach hurt".  She said why would a banana make my stomach hurt and I said I don't know, maybe later in the day but not in the morning because they caused my stomach to hurt.  So I didn't eat bananas by themselves, in the morning.  She said bananas shouldn't hurt my stomach or cause problems because they weren't acidic or something but I said, "I don't know, they do." 

He says Vladimir told him not to worry about his weight and enjoy himself.  I guess if I think about my Grandma Connie and things I talked about with her, which wasn't a lot, one thing she once asked me about was exercise or sports I liked and she asked me if I skied. 

E.H. says they felt like two kids in a candy store.  They listened to Billie Holiday and drank beer and he asked if he'd be able to live by himself in the future and Sasha says not for the time being.  He says that's okay as long as they understood he wanted to be left alone in the study or solarium at times.  He says they didn't explain but the reason was that defectors sometimes make bad adjustments and some committed suicide.  He says he became depressed at Christmas, without his family, and that in spring of 1986 he was introduced to Boris Ivanovitch who specialized in hypnotherapy.

Around this time, I was being home-taught and depressed over it because I missed being around other kids and friends.  I was also being tortured at my house and by Springer, and things were going downhill quickly until I began writing in a diary.  My parents were extremely cruel and said horrific things to me and this was in addition to torture and not being taught anything for school and I did notice they quit being as mean when I started keeping a diary.  They broke into it and destroyed the lock, and I tore out some of the pages where I reported things they did which made them sound bad, but although they stole my calendar away, they became slightly less cruel when I started writing about them.

I had been pulled out of school for the purpose of more discreet facilitation of torture and attempted assassination.  My family tried several times to kill me.  While my brother and I were being "home-taught" at home, I had no one to run to or talk to or several teachers or adults that, out of all of them, one might notice something was wrong.  My public school teachers had been getting nasty, but still, I had no one to turn to.  After I escaped from my house and ran to Herm Danielson's, to be confronted with a gun and the memories that, "Oh yeah--shoot, he's involved", I did not give up there.  I decided to bring up torture to whoever I could, to the point of attempting to make phone calls, to trying to speak up at church as we still had to go to church on Sundays, to anytime we were downtown for any other reason.  I would start to talk, and my Mom would try to shut me up but I kept trying.  After awhile, their cover was blown.  A few people were shocked by what I tried to mention.  The only time they slacked a little on trying to kill me was when I began speaking publicly about it, however I could.  There was one time I quit breathing and someone had to do CPR on me.  I really almost died in my own house.

The only "routine" they kept up, which everyone knew about and which would look suspicious if it was quit, was going to church every Sunday.  So that was my only sure escape from jail, although many of the church people were every bit as bad themselves.  You couldn't trust "anyone" at church.  I just made it a point to try to blurt out as much as I could in the time I had to do it, with as many variable people around me as possible, hopin

g at least one person would raise an eyebrow and my parents would get worried about being reported.  They pulled the phone lines from me--everything.  The worst thing was Alan Springer and the electrocution. 

I don't believe the Springers--any of them, are entitled to one single article of clothing they wear or their houses.  They moved to Provo, Utah, next to Salt Lake City, so later when Mike Nichols tried to murder me in a car trip, I was life-flighted to the Mormon-run hospital in Salt Lake City where VA people, Mormons and some Jews next-door could be assured of putting implants into me for "neck surgery" and using me to torture by remote-torture later.  It is one thing to say, about the Springers, that some of them were just kids and didn't know but they knew a lot for "kids". 

The verbal abuse against me was very bad as well.  It was extremely horrendous and then I almost died and I noticed some of them didn't want me to live.  I mean, it was real.  So when I started talking, it was out of desperation and then I started writing in a diary and later I found correspondence with Katie Middleton.  I asked my Mom about that today, saying, "Which one of you is she related to?  Dad or you?" and she said "You'd be as much related" or something like that, which I don't believe, and even if I did, it is still a fact they were desperate to kill me.  I don't remember extreme violence or "let's just get rid of her now" efforts until after she was born.  I was brutally tortured, yes, but not necessarily made an object for assassination until later.

pg.  119.  E.H. says he is introduced to Boris Ivanovitch, a hypnotherapy psychiatrist.  E.H. says he is worrying about his family, and having to witness the maligning of his character without the opportunity to defend himself.  Boris teaches him breathing, visualization and relaxation. 

I would say here, if I'm really E.H.'s kid, his comment about maligning his character without being able to defend it might mean he was given information that showed what was being done to me but he couldn't do anything. 

He says a new routine evolved.  This makes me think of Robin Bechtold and his queer comments about how "you're just evolving" came up later which he found amusing.  He had evidentally read this book and used it to make fun of me or had obtained knowledge of it before it was set to print which would be CIA.  He says it was during this time the KGB intelligence debriefed him.  It is known "the value of knowledge decays quickly, and it had been almost two and a half years since I had worked for the CIA."  He says there were certain things which, if divulged, would leave him open to prosecution so he says the question everyone had was what kind of information did he transmit to Russians that was "hard data"?  He says the answer is that the Russians already knew about his work and learned nothing new from him.  Then he explains what hard data of people for example--information anyone could know and he could confirm, "Yes this was "Tom Jones" and yes that is "Bob Smith".  He says maybe they were testing him and wanted to see if he knew the one out of a hundred they didn't know.

This all makes sense to me.  I mean, I understand the rationale behind it with the KGB.  From my own perspective, when I think about photos I can translate this into remembering the "hard data" of all the penis photos.  Why would my parents and others expose me to all of that?  I mean, am I E.H's kid and they knew he was writing about this stuff and wanted to make a joke out of it?  Then again, the questions to me about the penis photos were when I was younger, so it would be more like E.H. could be slightly alluding to it.  What I remember is that it makes sense there is more than one Dicksie because one of them acted like she really wanted me to know and then another came in and mixed it up deliberately and then when the other one came back and she saw I was mixed up, she had this horrified look like "oh no".  But that was my impression back then.  One was fighting hard to keep it mixed up and one acted like she was cluing me in.  Then, I remember one poignant memory of being shown the photos and I would say, "Andy!" and all cheerful and happy and like no big deal, and "Mike!" and my Mom would be asking me why do you think so and I would say why because of size or shape or color or hair and how much hair and what kind of belt buckles they had..."Because x has that belt!"  So we'd continue and I'd say "George BUSH!"  I remembered his whole name because of our discussion and then when I said, "happily", "Daddy!" my Mom stopped and said something like "Oh no..."  I was able to identify them until I got mixed up I think.  But anyway, I wonder which would be the one out of a hundred they didn't know.  I knew ones from Wenatchee (which is why I asked for Change of Venue for CPS hearings) and I knew ones from the plane and international and political people.

When he says he didn't give them any names or descriptions of things they didn't already know, or which would endanger the U.S. or citizens, there is no reason not to believe him.  He says as to claims he caused tremendous damage to CIA operations in Moscow and "closed them down" he says it may have helped sell papers but the statements have no basis in fact.

He says the Soviets were very interested in CIA officers about recruiting hard vs soft agents or targets.  The CIA's hard targets were from Soviet Union, China, or Cuba or any "diplomat from a socialist country" and the soft targets are from the rest of the world, mostly Latins and Africans.  I'm not sure what this would mean here aside from thinking maybe some of the men who got turned on by kids, or me, or would in the future, were the hard ones and the soft ones the CIA didn't care about as much.  He says "foreign intelligence officers get turned on when they confront their toughest competition in conflict".  He says "...the same way Harvard MBAs get turned on by corporate takeovers or Navy Seals get turned on by landing in a hot landing zone.  So in a sense, he is saying rape or pedophilia would be most attractive to those who view the victim as "competition".

He says he enjoyed fielding the questions and wasn't giving out information and they could have gotten the same info from a James Bond or John la Carre novel, but it was more interesting to them to get it from "the horse's mouth" (me)".  Pg .  120.

I have to add, I remembered while strip poker was not completely natural, I actually remember that even if my Dad was upset by it, the day they gave me new clothes, and I got a new dress, I was told to use it for strip poker and it actually seemed like my Dad felt he was getting revenge over someone for it.  He seemed to get a satisfaction to have me degraded, and I do remember that part--that there was something about using these clothes someone gave me, to cheapen the gift by having me wear them and strip them off.  I also remember my Dad acting competitive with me at times, which twin I am not sure.  It is true of most of the men who raped me, that they felt competitive and wanted to degrade me. 

While E.H. says Latins and Africans were considered "soft" targets, that was not necessarily true later because later the U.S. worked to find new recruits to hate crime.  I do recall that as a kid, when asked to play a sex game with a bunch of men, there were a lot of Hispanics who didn't go for it, at least at that time.  They all sat around in a circle on one occasion and when I was asked which ones were turned on or it was noticed, I remembered thinking fewer of the Mexican men were turned on by me, as a little girl, than the other men who seemed to be American, Russian or Ukraine, and white for the most part.  I remembered because there a difference in which men got "hard" penises and which stayed "soft" and didn't seem to want to play the game or looked at me (one of them) with pity in his eyes.  Specifically, I remember socialist country, royals, and American white men, Jews, and some Japanese men but more of the first ones mentioned than Japanese.   Then, I remember when I was surprised some of them weren't interested in it, one of the white guys tried to stir up the mood.  It was like a contrast from the overt sexual games on international flights with international people (socialist countries, royals, and American whites or 'communists'?) to being around more of the Hispanics and some of them were open to the idea but then didn't seem to go for it as much.  Some of the highest-paid professionals were the most turned on by me, from the private planes and other areas and this might have gone along with why they hated me at the same time.  Cops were into it, FBI, CIA, some royals, and Canadian officials, along with people like Bush.  Then the entertainment industry was highly involved, with making songs that referred to the events in a discreet way, which seemed to make the people involved feel it was their very high-end secret and their winks and nods about it were turned into movies and records.

pg. 121 E.H. says another interest of the Soviets was who could recruit, and what kinds of monetary promises were made in attempting.  He mentions a story about Tom and the "toilet pitch" and what comes to mind for me here is maybe a few things but I don't think I'm remembering all of it.  I remember someone passing me a note in the bathroom once--an adult, to take someone but I don't remember who or why, or maybe it was just to me.   I read it, of course.  Another thing that might come to mind is that they were trying to put things inside of my body or clothes and then passing me around with the pretense it was only about pedophilia and nothing else.  I also remember passing someone information on when I was taking my next plane trip.  I was asked and I wrote it down and slipped it to them in a bathroom and it had my flight information.  My parents weren't involved in that one at all because I got the information or had it myself and gave it to him.  I also specifically knew the only time I could pass him something privately would be when he went to the bathroom so I waited until he went and then went in pretending to go to the wrong one or not knowing and gave it to him.  He showed up.

E.H. says the Soviets asked him about "false flag" recruitments by the CIA and this is whan someone is recruited by an agent and doesn't know the real country the man is working for.  So the "CIA  might use a Hispanic-American officer posing as a Mexican national to recruit someone from El Salvador."  The idea is if it goes back, the real source can't be tracked, or also, the person they want to attract is known to not like the country that wants to recuit, and E.H. says the Soviets wanted to know if this was common practice for the CIA and he said he didn't know because of limited experience.

I remember telling my Mom, at our house in Moses Lake, about my recruitment.  The payments or monetary value of any attempt had already been discussed with me and I was motivated.  So it was a quick trip to the John after I first looked at our boarding passes and wrote the information down.  I did it with at least 2 men and one acted shocked and intrigued and the other acted sort of in-on-it.  One was blond-light brown hair and the other had dark hair.

My entire early childhood was spent, part of the time, traveling internationally on flights.  It was routine.  There was no one where I lived who could see when someone showed up or not because it was the open country and then U.S. government employees all the way around.  It wasn't hard to lie, so now when my Mom says we never went on planes, it's just a lie.  We were always on them.  What I maybe didn't realize then, was that there were identical twins and someone decided where I went should be a secret.  My Mom was a "stay-at-home" Mom so it wasn't like I could be out of eye-sight or not seen in town for a couple of days or a week at a time.

As to my Grandpa Garrett talking about not giving his kids a flag, I think I remember what I said I wanted, if I got my recruitment, was a big U.S. flag from The White House.  I sort of wonder if I asked for a royal flag and then they didn't give me one, maybe one from England, because I sort of remember that, and then I got a U.S. flag but it wasn't full-size and I was upset because they broke their promise to me.  They had promised to give me a flag and didn't, and I cried.  I had caught a very big fish too.  I remember how shocked my Mom was, when I first told her about one of the men I had recruited, and that then her hands started shaking and that never happened.  When they didn't give me a flag, like they had promised, I cried and cried.  It wasn't like not getting a toy I wanted.  I was deeply hurt and I never got over it.  I would think about it, as a kid, and cry whenever I did because I had my heart set on it and it was a firm promise and verbal contract and I did what I was supposed to do and they did not follow through.  I only remember asking for 2 things around that time in my life, at least that I remembered because I was older and it was a flag and a dolly.

E.H. says he remembers that the Soviets were almost paranoid over false flag operations because their concern was what if they "unmasked" someone they thought was working for Germans or French but really they were CIA.

I suppose, since my Grandpa Garrett didn't want a flag for his funeral, because his kids weren't given one, maybe he thought I was his kid.  Maybe my Dad here is not the son of Bob Garrett but some Italian man in NY, and I am actually related to Bob Garrett Sr. and my Dad isn't, and E.H. was related by family or to me but my Dad isn't.  I don't know. 

He says the Soviets wanted to know about CIA training, personnel policies, relationships between CIA, NSA, and the State Department, and that all of these questions had answers which could be found in published books.  So he is saying he gave them nothing new, and wasn't a "Walker" type. 

pg. 123  He was also asked about CIA information priorities such as what they were, what was the list?  He said he had never seen this list and knew only the obvious choices anyone else would know and had learned most of it in his U.S. National Security Politics course as a junior at U of Texas in 1971. 

He says Victor summarized the KGB's debriefing of him "in four words:  "Bolshoi golova, nyet informatsii" (big head, no information)."  He says it was a standard joke and he didn't mind.  He didn't go to them to give information and they knew this--he went there for protection from persecution.  He says he wasn't given a dacha because he gave them info--it was in return for "propaganda value of finally having a CIA officer living under KGB protection in the Soviet Union after seeing so many of them go the opposite direction (pg. 123)."  He says he told the KGB he wouldn't do anything to hurt "my people" in America and he hadn't. 

In a way, I would say this sounds like a reversal of what has happened to me and my son.  It's almost more like we are not part of the U.S. and the U.S. forced us into their black operations and non-protection and that it's propaganda.

He says he was given a Russian language tutor named Anna and that she had a quiet, gentle, manner which was like his wifes.  He says the KGB made a disguise kit and he looked like a Mexican bandito.  He says 2major events took place October 27, 1985 and one was his birthday but also a phone call to his wife.  His KGB friends decided it would be too dangerous to place the call himself, and that "Every policeman in the West is looking for you," so he made a short taped message and was going to have someone play it by someone in the West.

My comments here would be that the woman officer (in Chelan-Douglas) who said "You're known by police from  Washington to Oregon" thought she was cool for having the read the book "Safe House" and thinking she was arresting a person that she'd be rewarded for arresting.  The major events I remember around October 1985 were torture and electrocution of me by my parents and Alan Springer. 

E.H. says to wait "until things have cooled down" before trying to leave his wife Mary, and son Lee, a message.  He asked how long that was going to be and he was told "sometime next spring", which would mean from Fall to Spring, which is an entire school year to a kid.  That was how long it was going to be "hot" until things "cooled down".

I was getting tortured sooner than that, but different forms of torture at different times.  Some things I haven't mentioned that I have always remembered but not gone into a lot of detail over, are about being at Granny's upstairs.  My Dad also went up there and helped Granny torture me.  Also, Granny was teaching me parts of how to open an emergency door a certain way too, and even had a ring float device like the one on the emergency door to the plane I was supposed to fall out of, all in the closet next to the bed where I was getting tortured THERE.  Granny wasn't by herself all the time; my Dad went up there and helped her and they worked together on it a few times.  They also kept a coffin in that closet for some time, or a large trunk, that locked.  It was at the back of the closet and not around, I don't think, when other cousins were born or old enough to remember.  Some medical supplies were kept in one of the drawers later, along with an IV on a stand, and the chest of drawers and ring flotation device that was around me when I was being coached on opening the door to death.

I do not remember my Grandpa Garrett specifically training me to kill myself by brake failure, or opening an emergency door, but there was one thing he tried to hide by changing his entire kitchen around later so it wouldn't look as familiar to me.  Before he changed it, it had parts of it that were bright yellow and there is some connection between my nausea seeing yellow thumb push pins and what happened there.  I remembered him torturing me, but not specifically training me to kill myself through programming and practice of it, with a goal in mind.  It is possible I just forgot, but that is how I remember it.

One time, in that kitchen, he smashed my head with a cast iron skillet.  He must have been a very psychic person because I think he read my thoughts right before he did it, because I was there, and suddenly remembering a horrific thing he'd done, and he grabbed the skillet, turned to me in a rage with steel cold eyes and brought the skillet down on my head and I blacked out.  It was almost like he knew the exact window of time he had to try to crush out my memory and prevent it from fully surfacing at that moment.  My Mom and Dad were always watching for the same thing, and Granny too, highly observant and wanting to see when I had memories triggered and how to try to obliviate them.  I would go from sitting or standing there one minute, next to one of my abusers and then suddenly seeing what they did to me, or what someone else I knew did to me, and then my casual stance would turn to one of frozen-in-place terror.  Of horror and fear and terror.  Because they are terrorists, by every definition of the word.  They didn't just use plain child abuse against me--they terrorized me collectively and got paid by the U.S. government.  What payments have I received?  What compensation?  and what rights did this country ever respect?  This country encouraged and paid for home-grown terrorism and those who wouldn't "join" were to be murdered.

I think he was a fan of Katie Middleton by-the-way.  Then my parents would threaten with the same thing.  My Dad's side of the family knew what my Mom's side of the family were doing and it seems they all worked together, along with other U.S. employees, against me.  It's like all of them were working for the CIA.

E.H. says on pg. 125 he left a one-minute message to Mary and Lee telling them he loved them.  He says he ended the message with the date and time of his next phone call in March.  This sounds like my piece of paper I gave to a man with the date and time of my next flight.

pg. 126  E.H. says they discuss the call and future plans over coffee and cognac.  He says then he was encouraged to get out and look around and he spent the rest of his birthday with his short wave radio.

I believe I had a short wave radio at one point.  I think I took it apart once, wondering how it worked, as a kid and my Mom said what are you doing and I told her I was getting the screwdriver to work on something and I was always taking things apart.  Later my brother was talked about as doing this, because he was a boy, but as a girl, I took a lot of mechanical things apart, wondering how they worked and I never put them back together.  I didn't really care about fixing things; I just wanted to know how they worked.  Which is actually the way my son is and I had thought some of that must be from his paternal side, but it could be from me.  I took things apart so much I got my own set of screwdrivers and tools as a kid.  But basically, I took apart a short-wave radio, boomboxes, dolls, furniture, watches, clocks, stereos, toy cars and trucks--until I was discouraged from doing it anymore and told not to.  I asked my Dad to show me how to work on cars but he wouldn't, and yet I would have been an eager student.  I even took my animal sounds player, from when I was a toddler, apart, because I wanted to know how the animal sounds made their noise with the machine inside.  You could walk into my bedroom when I was a young girl and find at least one thing torn apart and opened up because I wanted to see "how it works", at any given time.

I also remember I heard messages from someone on my short-wave.

E.H. says Mary got his messages and responded but her response bothered him because she was very emotional and they wanted him to go home and he then became emotional so the Russians tried to help him figure out how to make a visit.  He says he immediately "dove into planning how I could return".

When he says he "dove" into planning this makes me think of a bird mobile that was hanging above my bed after I didn't have a crib.  I had one that was one kind of bird, that was above a crib and I think it was in London.  I had another above a crib in the U.S.  And then later when I mentioned or remembered something, I noticed one day my mother changed one bird mobile to a different one and now all of a sudden, it was the diving birds.  The diving birds took turns diving down and then would dip up and just as one was up, another would dive in a swoop in its place and then up and touching off the next to dive and it was in constant or almost constant motion.  When it was the diving birds, I was being confined to my bed.  Pretty much imprisoned and all I could watch were diving birds.  I was older when it was the other bird mobile, and I was suddenly being put into a infantile kind of state of being chained to my bed with a mobile above my head, or forced to stay in my bedroom all day long and on a call to my Dad I used to ask him to come home and said I was forced to stay in my room all day.

E.H. says he talked with Anna and they examined a newspaper together for news.  I think I did this with maybe a babysitter, and I remember doing this with my parents, my Dad particularly, learning to read news and I remember one time I said something about it, about propaganda, and my Dad responded with a comment like the other side makes propaganda too.  It was my Mom or Dad, and one of the first times I thought they'd made it sound like we were on different teams.  I also think that since E.H. mentions this on pg. 127, it is like the mention of propaganda and having groups under their feet, on an earlier page which made me think about kids raised by people who are not their own.

E.H. says his frustration about family reunification boiled over that October and he'd been in his cage just a week when he had a confrontation with the KGB caretakers.  He says they kept saying "these things take a lot of time" and he'd heard it so many times he exploded and said his family needed him and they wanted to plan a trip to the Moscow Circus, and then they say be patient and he says the hell with it, because he has to have more to do than sitting there playing cards with him.

I remember at one point my Mom came into my room with me and all we did was play cards.  There was a group of people outside of my room that took our house hostage.  We would sit on the ground, cross-legged and play cards and actually, I don't think it was my Mom.  My Mom and the rest of my family was outside of my bedroom door, and people were there and they had the house under siege for over a week.  I was trapped in my room and then this woman came in and would sit there and play cards with me and I got tired of it.  I said I wanted out of my room.  My Mom did come in too, and played cards at one point, instead of the other woman.  There was yelling outside of the door, and talk, and crying, and I had no idea what was going on but I wasn't allowed out of my room.  I saw my Dad one time when I kept saying I wanted to see him, and finally some men brought him over and opened the door and then they carried him away in ropes.  I held onto the ropes and they were dragging me out and then the men kicked me down to the ground and picked me up and locked me in my room again.  They gave me plates of food from the door.  All of this was in Moses Lake.  They showed me my Dad's face one time a day after awhile, if that, and then I started beating up the men who opened the door and clawed at them and screamed.  They wore heavy military boots.  One of the first things they yelled about was my short-wave radio and they stole it from me. 

While they tortured (I thought) my Mom and Dad in another room, the woman who came into my room and played cards with me was systematically hypnotizing me.  She was trying to erase my memories, not keep them and every single day, all day, she did the same thing.  At first it was another woman but then it was my Mom too and they used both, maybe in a hope I'd remember one but not the other.

I went from being a hostage on planes and tied up, to being held hostage in my house, and that is just as a kid and has nothing to do with illegal blocks of my travel so I couldn't drive, move out of a state, or leave the country.

I was extremely distraught because of course, even if I was abused, I had bonded to my parents (biological or not) and didn't like seeing anyone hurt.  So I tried kicking their feet out from under them, and they all had guns in holsters on them.  At any time I could have grabbed a gun from their holster, because they were all within reach but I didn't.  I'm not programmed to be "a killer".  The U.S. wanted me to be their beating bag, their blow-job rubber doll they could rape, and to find ways to have me killed and make it look like I had an "accident" or suicide.  One of them then beat me up back and I had bruises all over my arms from it.

I basically quit eating even though the food was decent.  They gave me plates of food that had different things but I quit eating.  Obviously, they knew I was depressed and it was the United States that was responsible for causing my depression.  I didn't care that my Mom was sitting in the room with me, playing cards.  She was also hypnotizing me and I was tired of being caged up and I didn't care to be in a room with her when she colluded with Alan Springer to electrocute me.  I mean, all of them were guilty.  I had no books to read--nothing.  They made my life a living hell.

This one memory I have is probably one that is not true...and could be imagination, and I do know when something is too vague to say it's true or not...and it is that I almost think they moved an actual crib into my room, and took my bed out for a while and I say this because I remember being in a crib, not a bed, when I was held hostage again.  I don't know why they'd do this unless they were desperate to try to change or erase my memories of when I was a baby or toddler in a crib and the mobiles and the time I had no mobiles too.  I don't always remember there being one at one place.  But I sort of remember my legs being too long and I was older and thought it might break and yet I was in one.  I don't think it was for a super long time when I was much older.

You know what.  I just thought, I wonder what these Russians...I mean, regular Russian people think about a story like this. They must be either in denial and think it can't be true, or shocked and think it's a good thing Russian kids aren't being adopted by Americans.  Not to say that it doesn't go both ways I'm sure, but half of the time, I can't even believe what has happened and I might not be the worst case either.

Oh, and about taking things apart, that's where the phrase, "Don't start something if you aren't going to finish it" came from, in my house.  My parents saw me take apart so many mechanical things they finally banned me from doing it and said don't start if you can't finish and "You're making a mess" and "You ruined it!  Why are you ruining everything?" and "Don't give it to Cameo; she'll ruin it."  It originally meant, "She will take it apart" and it was comments about finding all my toys and stereos and other things opened up, with wires and stuff everywhere.  I was asked why I did that, and then didn't put it back together and I said, "I just wanted to see how it worked".  One time I did try putting a radio back together but it didn't work.  It was mostly the opened-present idea, that you open a present because you can't wait to see what's inside, and then you do, and you look at it, play around with it a little, and then get bored and want to open another present and see how that one looks too.  If someone had shown me how to wire things, I'd have learned.  I did want to know how to work on cars as well.  It's not something I care about now, but as a kid I always wanted to.  I took apart my clock with eyes that moved back and forth to see why they did that too.  I also took apart telephones, looking for "bugs".  I had a feeling one day, in 1997, that my old-fashioned line telephone with a round dial thing and phone cradle and a curly cord, was bugged.  I sensed it.  So I unscrewed the caps on the phone to check and looked at the back and I sensed it was there, but I didn't know what they looked like, the modern ones.  On that note, about phones, our phone was ringing off the hook when I was a kid, and so was our doorbell.  It was like Grand Central Station, and my Mom was on the phone at least 5 hours every day.  It is not an exaggeration.  Some people called for advice I think, others to negotiate something, and some to gossip, but she was on the phone a lot, standing.  She sat and talked on the phone but not nearly as much as she stood and talked.  I had a phone in my bedroom for a short time and talked to jr. high friends or pre-jr. high friends until it was taken away because everything about my life was being censored.

I also know I did something with the first radio I got, the short-wave one, where I got into someone's code or something.  I mean, someone was sending me messages, which I heard, but I remembered something my Grandpa Garrett showed me once and I tapped into government code.  It was a semi-accidental hacking episode.   I remembered the techniques but then they brainwashed it out of me later.  And I remember I could hear Tammy Springer talking on the phone when I picked the phone up or tried to talk so I figured if I could hear her through the line, she could probably hear me too.  I listened-in on several of Tammy's phone calls.

My Dad didn't teach me how to hack into code with a short-wave radio, my Grandpa Garrett did.  It's remotely possible my Dad was spying on my Grandpa and reporting what he did or taught me to someone else because I remember at the time, as a kid, thinking this.

Today at the store there was a glass cabinet that was locked at first glance because the doors were on with a lock.  I asked about it because at the other one in town they're locked and they said it's open.  I tried opening the side where the item was and couldn't because my nails were short so someone came over and opened it saying it was the tape and to open it from the other side as they'd been saying, with the tape.  I could say, well, I could have figured that out, but as a shopper who expects the store to know how to operate their systems, where they're using a case that is intended to look like a locked case to begin with and doesn't open on the right side, I would not waste time on a "project" of "discovery" at a store when all I want is to buy something.  However, at my own house, with something I was interested in, I did spend the time and a whole swat team came out over it.  They didn't come over until I started writing down the code and was trying to figure it out, because then my Dad took my notebook from me.  He said what is this?  and I said something I was working on, and he took it.  The swat team people with military boots never gave me my radio back and it had been a birthday present from my Grandpa.  At this same time, I was getting electrocuted at Springers house and my Mom was involved.   My brains were being permanently ruined by them and by the "cop" from Bonners Ferry, Idaho.

So it was one cover after another.  Whoever has been working in intelligence has had a problem with my intelligence.  Not only did the U.S. and others try to permanently ruin me and my abilities, they did this to my son, and then with both of us, they've minimized our level of intelligence to start with and even after torture.  No one takes a fine stone or jewel and crushes it for making mosaics in the sidewalk to walk on.  Or better example than that, no one takes fine jewels and turns them to powder and uses it in cosmetics for the rich.  If talcum or silicate or other materials are available, a wise person uses this for temporary or cosmetic purposes like face powder.  Fine jewels would generally be left alone to shine or polished or worked on a little to enhance their beauty, not crushed for a common purpose.

This is the stupidity of the United States.  The stupidity of the U.S. is that while NO ONE should be crushed, and while the law protects certain rights of all equally, the U.S. is so fucking dumb, they take their best materials and try to crush them down for a common purpose.  This is why the U.S. is failing.  If you want to know the intelligence list of "priorities", for the U.S., wise management or stewardship or analysis of possibilities is not anywhere near the top.  This is also why the point of "hate crime" is so easily proven, because there is no justifiable means to the end, even for the CIA and FBI fuckers.

And it wasn't my Grandpa that hit me with the cast iron skillet.  Maybe he did too, when I was younger, but I remembered he pretended to, and started, and I got sick at the memory and sat down and then I couldn't breathe.  The cast iron skillet hit my head at my parents house.  He imitated the same thing and looked enraged, and I started to see stars and pass out from anxiety and then I sat down and wanted to throw up and I couldn't breathe and he told me to breathe in a paper bag.  Later, my Mom told me to do this when I couldn't breathe.

I had panic attacks as a kid and I couldn't breathe.  It is the only mental "disorder" I had out of all of that. 

My Grandpa did do other things.  But I remember he faked out the iron skillet thing because I remember I got sick to my stomach and sat down and then I couldn't breathe and I felt like throwing up.

For one thing, I don't remember exactly what was happening, but I seem to remember the sound of cracking bones.  I know he tested me, in a slightly voluntary way, to see how far I'd go in a game of "Mercy"  and he really broke my hand bones.  I sort of think that it wasn't the first time I heard that small hand bone kind of crackle and possibly he did this to me somewhere else, but I wouldn't know when and I don't remember being around anyone else where I heard that kind of noise except for myself when I got beaten (my leg broken) and my Grandma Connie when I heard her getting whacked (she lived through it).
I know Robert Guy Garrett Sr. is/was extremely psychic because he turned on me, with the menacing look, holding the cast iron skillet, when a memory of the iron shape on my back came to me.  He knew I had thought about the iron and then deliberately grabbed a cast iron skillet.  People who know who burned me to mark up my back include:

Granny, my Dad, my Grandpa Garrett (dead), my Mom, a royal, "Mike", Locklyn, unnamed.  People who incorporated irons into scaring me were all the above and Fallons and Springers and several other unnamed persons I can bring up later, also, Moses Lake hospital.

There were several attempts made to cover it up, and conceal who did it first.  Of some of the acts using an iron and/or ironing board to terrorize me there was:
1.  Grandpa Garrett in the kitchen with sizzling fat grease
2.  Bob Garrett Jr. and Granny with an iron and grease while I was in bed face-down upstairs
3.  My Mom in the kitchen with me,
4.  Granny in the kitchen with a tub of Crisco,
5.  My Mom using a trowel while stripping furniture,
6.  Fallons with their iron out and sizzling grease in an iron skillet,
7.  Private plane with Mike, and the blond-brown haired man, "Queen" and Diana,
8.  Locklyn with the iron and the dining room table

and that's a few.  So many people colluded very hard, to work together, to cover it up.

pg. 128.  He says Igor gives him dignitary passes to a Grand Revolutionary Parade but he's more concerned about seeing his family.  He says "If they have her under their control as you suspect, then they won't be expecting me until March, and I can make my move in January," I told him.' (pg. 128)  Igor frowned but he resolved to keep pushing him until something happened.

In November E.H. visited the Red Square and he was in full disguise because they were with diplomats and officials and his presence was still a secret.  He says at one end is the ornate cathedral of St. Basil,the other the History Museum, and opposite Lenins tomb and Kremlin is the GUM department store.  He says the parade itself was impressive but after a couple of hours he wanted hot chocolate.  He says General Chebrikov tells him to explore the Soviet Union and see how claims they want more land are nonsense, when they have vast amounts and are a peaceful people.  E.H. says he welcomes the opportunity and sized upon his visit to press for more excursions outside of the dacha.  (pg. 129).

My first thoughts are for him, it all sounds reasonable and hard to take at the same time with missing his family.  For me I think of being captive in my house and literally hostage.  After I tried to report extreme electrocution, the house was seized, and I was being hypnotized by a strange woman and then my mother, and then there were military police there and then after this, Alan Springer of all things, pops in and says it's okay if I go out now.  I am pretty sure it was Springer who came over at some point.

pg. 130.  He says they had a pleasant dinner and they talk of family reunification.  He says the dinner chipped yet another flake off the monolithic, Stalinist impression ingrained in him about the Soviets.

I would say it I'm a "cameo" and I had these gold nuggets and flakes from panning, which I did, maybe it's a comment about how having those people over meant they took more of my gold, and also, how they tried to brainwash me about what was being done with toxic fumes and electrocution.  Monolithic might make me think about Jews too, with monotheism as a mainstay.

pg. 130 E.H. says Chebrikov arranges tennis and sauna at the Dinamo sport club. Later they have cross country skiing.

I am not sure what I did when I was super young, but I did try tennis, and I went with my cousin Rory to his karate lessons.  I was about age 4 for the karate.  He had a white robe and I was around through his progression through some of the different colors of belts.  I went to the dojo a few times and watched and imitated ideas at home.  A very strong lasting impression for me, was of "Karate Kid" and the "kick" which I practiced over and over and over at my house.  It is very, very, hard to do.  Believe me.  It looks so easy, sort of like a challenge but possible, from the movie.  I spent hours upon hours upon weeks and months jumping off of the arm of the couch for height, just to try the switch-kick.  Yes, I jumped for height to get on a horse from the ground, and I leaped into the car across mud puddles for church, but I also became obsessed with getting that kick down.  I am pretty sure I did it one time, and then never again.  It was very hard to do, especially without any training, but one time, I got it fast enough that I really did it and then I tried after that and it didn't happen or get easier so I just quit, thinking, well, at least I did it once.  I was always stuffed in the "Rabbit" car as Locklyn was driving Rory to lessons at that time.  He got up to the black belt I think, but I am positive I was around for at least 2-3 belts.  I wore a robe a couple of times, with some belt but I wasn't enrolled.

Honestly, whatever the weird reason is, I had my belts stolen from ever since I wore a karate robe with a belt.  I mean, off of my bathrobes, off of my dressing gowns, off of my dresses, my pants belts...someone was stealing all of my belts ever since I tried karate.  Why in the world?  And I was getting whipped with the belts like, in the dojo or out of it they were doing a sort of lash thing at my legs.

I just looked at belts and I think I saw Rory up to the blue belt but maybe a brown one I remember.  I had a white belt.  I don't remember formal enrollment, but I went to the dojo and had a white robe and a white belt and then the karate teacher or someone stole the white belt from me while I was still wearing the robe and never gave it back.  Like, pulled it off of me. I remember being molested by one of them.  I don't know if it was that karate instructor, or someone else, but one of them did take me off to a side room and was molesting me during my cousin's lessons.  I had some lessons, and watched, but I was molested there.  I remember because I'd be in the white robe with the white belt and then taken into a different room and they'd take the belt off and touch me and molest me.  Then at the end of the season, they took my belt off of me in front of everyone, and lashed my legs with it, publicly, where anyone could see in the dojo.  I was discouraged from returning to karate lessons after they molested me.  I remember a white, non-Japanese man who did this and a Japanese man around too, but it was more like the non-Japanese man.  Since Rory went there, and Locklyn drove us there, it had to have been in Cashmere or Wenatchee at a karate dojo.

I was really humiliated because first it was private molestation and then public discarding of me, and whipping my legs.  My cousin Rory saw it being done and would then grab a blanket and imitate them, what they did.  I liked karate too.  I was shown the next level of belt but I never wore it.  I only wore the white one.

I really do not know, but I have this weird feeling the white man, who was not old or middle-aged at all, was either a cop or a Jew and maybe both.

I also had a headband of some kind or I remember some kind of red dot on my forehead or on a poster in the room they took me to.  I never forgot this one red dot.  I cannot remember, right away, if I was tortured too, but I know they molested me.  Okay, yes, there was some kind of a 'box'.  I was tortured there too, but it didn't seem to be as extreme as the torture by Springer and the men at my Grandpa's house, but they had me hooked up to some kind of a box and it wasn't the same one I usually saw, it was their own box or something.  It wasn't exactly like the box for electrocution I usually saw.  As for the red dot, I know I was tortured but I think the dot was what I noticed on the poster every time I was there because I was told to focus on something and I focused on the dot. I think it was a poster of Japan.  There were at least 2 posters in that room, one was a Japanese flag and one was of men in martial arts.

But yeah, my last times in the dojo were of having my legs snapped at with my own belt that I wore.  They even said to me "I'm taking your belt".  Then, what is really crazy, is all of my belts were being stolen from me, like some kind of mafia-thing, for the rest of my life, from the time I was 4 frickin' years old.  I was 4.

I think there were 2 white guys and one Japanese guy there.  More than one of them was there when they took my belt in private and molested me.  They tortured me without molesting me first, and then the grand finale was molestation and taking my belt and then snapping my legs with it.  Rory didn't know about the torture or molestation--he just saw what everyone else saw--they took my belt off in public and snapped my legs with it.

When I was 4.

The main abuser, from my perspective then, was white, tall, in his 20s, light brown hair, longer face with angular features, and a cop kind of build.   The Japanese guy was shorter, short hair, and I would say slightly between Japanese and Korean looking face.  He sort of looked like the Japanese version of this guy who stayed at Steve Mays house when I was there.  He had a slight build with a tenacious style and he whipped my legs, but the other one did more of the other things behind closed doors.  They went in on it together.  If it's true he was Jewish, it would follow a trajectory that was plotted against me before I was even 4 years old.

Actually, I do remember the box in Locklyn's car.  Rory or I was carrying it into the dojo in a duffel bag.  So basically, the torture box was brought into the dojo to be used on me.  I also remember Paul Cassel showing up or being there.  Mostly it was the light brown haired "cop" who was white and said something about being Jewish at one point, and the Japanese guy who looked nervous about the box.  He looked more worried about getting caught.  Then he felt like everything was fine.  Paul Cassel showed up all the time and I think he was in karate or knew the people.  He was also a lawyer Locklyn worked for and then he later botched a CPS case involving my son on purpose.  I think he and Dennis Hotchkiss maybe both showed up at that dojo.  I remember "Dennis" being there and thinking of the cartoon later, about "Dennis the Menace".  Supposedly Paul Cassel and Dennis Hotchkiss were partners at a law firm together at one point, and by the time the U.S. was illegally kidnapping my son from me, they must have figured Dennis the Judge and Paul Cassel were the right pedophiles for the job.  Anyone could check and find out if they visited that dojo or were enrolled for lessons the same time or adjoining times that Rory Baird was.  I was there.  It is slightly possible, that even Michelle Erickson's uncle Gary, who is now head of the Parks & Rec for Wenatchee, was a friend of theirs at that time.  I know Dennis Hotchkiss was there--we went to the same dojo and he made an extra point to wave and talk to me. So basically, that would mean he is part of the Pedophiles Annonymous Circle.  I used to smile and wave and laugh when Dennis would say hi to me there, and look at the path HE chose to take.  He is a pedophile, knew of my childhood torture, and held my son hostage with full knowledge of who the players were.  What do you get for working for someone like Paul Cassell and Kyle Flick?  Polyps.  Of course.

So, what Dennis Hotchkiss said, when I brought photos of torture of my son to court, was "Ban all photos by Ms. Garrett."

Oh yeah.  Because Mister Penis has something to hide.  Mister Denny Penis and Paul Penis don't want their photos to be public, so they'll hide torture and pedophilia of my son Oliver too, as Judges and lawyers.  Of course Wenatchee and Waterville needed someone like Dennis Hotchkiss, because what Judge could some of the professionals count on to hide pedophilia?  I mean, aside from Japanese Flayvah-Flav Nakata.  Which Japanese Penis was Nakata protecting?  Hmmm?  The one from the dojo that tortured and molested me?


How else did FBI's Alvaro Pardo know her (Nakata) than through the Guzman family and the widely known torture-and-pedophile circle? 

Yes, wasn't there a "more than usual insistence" by Judge Hotchkiss, in pressuring psychologist Krebs to affirm I was not fit to raise my child?  YOU, you FUCK, have no place on a bench as Judge Mr. Dojo-HO.

Here's me, at age 4:  "DenEEEE!  Deneeeee!  Hi Denee!"

What a fuck.  Dennis (Denny!)  the fucking judicial menace and pedophile who knew I was being tortured and molested at a dojo my cousin practiced at.  I still remember how he encouraged this, and would go out of his way with me and he certainly wasn't protecting me when my legs were being snapped with a belt or I was going into the 'private room' with his buddies.  Wenatchee is full of the worst scum of the scums.  Dennis Hotchkiss probably visited my son personally to ask him for a blow job.  STOP THE PRESS.  STOP THE FUCKING PRESS.  Of course.  Because that town breeds and feeds and employs scum.  Including the Sterling-Tancer family.  I knew them from before and their fucking son is a liar and criminal.
I am putting up this clip from Culture Club, "Church of the Poison Mind" because it's so much like what I remember.  The planes were about like that, in the cockpit, but larger than this video shows.  About twice the size.  Double it.  Double the width and double back the depth.  There were only 2 seats, main ones, for the pilot and co-pilot most of the time.  The smaller planes, private ones, may have been slightly smaller because there wasn't much space between the pilot and co-pilot seats, but I remember it being spacious.  Full deck in front.  Everything.  That weird dots thing in the back was there but I don't know what it's for right now. I mean, the thing in the Culture Club video.  The whole song is also about me. 

I mean, how many fucking artists made mils off of me?  They made a fucking truckload of money.  The whole theme of tricking a kiss from a 'god-child' is what they did to me before they attempted to kill me, literally, off of one of the planes.

I can't wait until I read Josh Gatov, Robin Bechtolds obituaries.  Not to mention those of the people who were responsible for these brats and plotted against me before I was ever introduced.  I hope they die, Tancer and others who raped me die, and the people from those planes all die.  That is not even including the fact that Wenatchee should be blasted to the ground, or the fact that Middletons and their kids don't deserve to live.  How many Jews does it take to screw an innocent woman?  I think Robin Bechtold is secretly a Jew or he's just a schmuck in with Bush and the Mormons that tortured me.  I am sure that God knows about other offenders that deserve to die that I haven't even thought of.  What kind of a loser-man rapes and premeditates rape against a woman who they knew was innocent and who was tortured as a baby and little girl that long?  Only losers feel a thrill from something like that...I mean, the scum of the earth feel "competitive" against a woman they're mommy and daddy had already been abusing or using friends to abuse for decades.

Losers.  Robin even wanted to make a point of, having read the book Safe House, saying snidely, after he raped me, "I used to think you were better than me but I don't anymore."  Case-in-point.  Loser.  Lisa Thebault?  Contact with Bush and Jews.  It's all more of the same.  I mean, I have never been outside of the horrific "net" of abusers. 

I understand when someone says, "I was a criminal and I took that with the territory of, well, you know, all criminals know if that's your life, it's a risk you take to be caught or die, but I never hurt anyone who wasn't in the field and involved."  Basically, a real man, who got death row, was even able to say, losers go after innocent people, and that those who choose a constant criminal life go after criminals and take it with the territory, but they don't go after people who didn't choose that same life.  I've been targeted and attacked by the lowest scum on the entire earth and they're the ones picking up government checks.
In this video clip, at 2:45, the dark haired man, who previously (in this video) drinks from the "John" cup, looks like the one I knew who went by "Mike".

pg. 130 E.H. says he had another feast with them on Thanksgiving with turkey and cranberry sauce and it was just like home. 

What I remember is that we were held hostage so long, I thought the same thing about my turkey and cranberry sauce when it was brought on a plate.  The other time I remember it stood out I had this was when I spent a summer and then off-and-on with Locklyn at their house.

Igor asks who he wants to go with him and he says Sasha and Anna. 

I remember, while being held hostage in my house in Moses Lake, at one point, not only had I been chained to bed various times, I didn't want to play cards and be hypnotized anymore and I just stopped eating and went to my bed and tried to sleep.  That was with my Mom in the room.

E.H. says he left after the party and expected he'd soon be touring Kiev and he was wrong.  Sasha said he couldn't go but Anna could, and then they introduced him to Larisa, who was an attractive woman from Tashkent who spoke English.  She wore heavy glasses and they chatted and then they all took coffee in the next room.  He's told she's very smart but needs more experience with her English.  He says no problem, he'll give her lessons after Kiev.  Then they say they thought maybe she could go with him.  It was decided he was going there without his friends and with a total stranger instead and he is very upset.  Then he tries to reason they're paying for the trip and he's anxious to go anywhere, and he made a plea to Victor but the plan was set.  She says she felt awkward being thrown in and then they went to the station at midnight and it was snowing as he stared out of the compartment and waved good-bye to Igor.  The train took off and she smiles and she's from Central Asia and then he finds out why she's nervous and it's because the KGB sent her to be his lover.  "For the KGB had sent Larisa to be my live-in lover."  (pg 132).

My comments are first about trains.  I traveled by ferry, car, train, and plane to different parts of the U.S., Canada, and London, but all of my traveling, or most of it, was completed by the time I was 8 years old.  I traveled mostly in planes, then car, then ferry, then train.  I don't remember much of train travel at all.  I can think of a few times my whole family went. 

Also, this is really off the subject, but I got a few new things today to help me remember some things and I haven't tried most of them yet, but one item is a red heat lamp and I got it for plants I have in the house.  It reminds me, however, of having this type at Fallons bathroom, and then my parents bathroom in Moses Lake, and in the shed, which was a locked room.  I remembered that at times in winter, I was so cold and there was hardly any heat, to the point I went out into the shed and would sit there in front of this red heat lamp.  It was the only time I felt warm, and then my Dad found out, tortured me with it, and then broke it to pieces and I cried because I had become attached to the lamp as my source of heat.  I also remember I distinctly remembered being tortured by military in my parent's bathroom through long-range methods because at first the red lamp in the ceiling was just a normal lamp, and then I started to notice it was putting off a different kind of energy than any lamp I'd ever been around.  That one was high up in the ceiling so it was at a distance, but it was doing some kind of odd pulsing of energy and it didn't change the light or amount of lumens put out, it was like some kind of remote weapon technology was being facilitated through that lamp and I was getting like laser burns from it.

I remember I started going into that bathroom where the heat lamp was, for awhile because I noticed I was getting targeted by an odd and painful energy if I was elsewhere and I thought, "Maybe the weapons used in the sky confuse the heat lamp with the heat from my body so they can't torture me as bad."

That was in Moses Lake, Washington, which means I was aware of torture by long-distance means as a young teenager.  My Mom somehow knew or read my mind and figured out I was guessing something was going on and she told me to stay away from the light and then she unscrewed it, however, for a long time, I had torture lessen when I was in that bathroom with the light on.  I was then going to the shed to be by a similar red lamp and again, to stay warm, and to escape torture by, I thought, confusing my body radiating heat and my location with the heat lamp.

I have been brutally tortured by the United States my entire life, with only a small break when I was in jr. high and high school and looked like "jail bait" as I was pretty and I could sing.  So someone quit most of the torture for several years, maybe in the hope they could use me sexually, but I was waiting until marriage and it was very clear, so then they just wanted to kill me before I undid the "brake failure" training and programming with too much normal experience driving.

I wasn't nuts as a kid or teen either...I was experiencing serious torture and hostage situations and a CIA "defector" was probably only one relative the U.S. tortured me over.  The other thing was that I felt my parents were involved somehow.  I had this sense, after knowing they'd tried to kill me, that my Mom knew I suspected something wrong and was going to the heat lamp for a reason, and she also knew when I thought something was wrong with the coiled heater inset into my wall in my bedroom.  Then my Dad seemed to know as well, and told me to get out of the shed and broke the lamp.  So I figured they were breaking my safety zones.


I remembered more.  Yes, I was in a car with my Grandpa Garrett, that was parked, with him teaching me or giving me "driving lessons".   I couldn't remember but then this morning I did.  I don't remember if it was just regular kid-lessons for fun or not but maybe I'll remember more later.  I know in all the other situations, it was for me to kill myself.  I think I was learning more about transistor radios with him.  By the time I was given a short-wave radio by him as a present, I had several techniques down, and learned, on different ways to operate one.  I only got to try out one of them because I said something out loud and my Dad took it away.  It was supposed to be a secret.

The men came to our house around that time, and my feeling however, was that the radio went to Alan Springer for some reason.  It is possible the people came over for that and also because Herm Danielson came over when I was almost murdered.  It is possible Herm knew it was going to happen and wanted to use it as blackmail, but it's also possible he just knew, found out, or something happened.  The part that I can't forget is that my family was making a very serious effort to kill me, not just torture me, at that time.  It wasn't through programming me for an "accident" either.  I think they were worried I knew too much about something--the note from Katie, people on the planes, electrocution, and I was trying to get help then.

I'm not sure how it would have worked.  If the house was bugged, I guess anyone could hear but they could cover it up.  For example, if I was put in a closet with rags soaked in dangerous liquids, and screaming "I can't breathe", all someone hears is "I can't breathe".  Maybe anyone could think I had a heart problem or was just having a panic attack.  If I had ever been diagnosed with any kind of slight heart anomaly, it could be used as a suggestion.  I know I had one doctor tell me my heart beat was normal but I had some arrythmia occasionally and another once told me I had a very small anomaly that wouldn't hurt anything that was from birth.  So there was mention of my having a small heart anomaly even when I was a kid.  My mother even brought it up, and was mentioning it before the whole suffocation or fumes things.  If I said I couldn't breathe she would say, "It's just your heart".  My heart problem, that I was told about when I was a kid, is possibly why a babysitter I had named Melanie used to come over with an actual stethoscope and check my heart every time, but who knows.  The technical word was described to me, and I was told it wasn't something that should cause problems, it just made my heart "flutter" sometimes (arrhythmia) and occasionally a very brief skipping occurred, which was almost like my heart would stop for a split second but start again.  Sometimes, it would skip over a beat, in a sense, but at times it felt like a sudden stop and pang and then start.  I was told it was mostly a concern when you're a baby or a kid.  One of my valves was slightly smaller, or conjoined, or some very small thing that caused this. Maybe there was a tiny puncture or something not closed somewhere that didn't harm too much--whatever it was, I was told I had a small congenital heart defect of some kind.  My Grandpa Garrett also mentioned my heart to me before all of this.

So then when Herm saw everything, and the ambulance came or he went to his house and brought over an oxygen tank he had himself, there was talk about my heart and the "March of Dimes" from him or the ambulance people.  Which is possibly why E.H. wanted to mention something specifically about how one of his recorded messages to Mary and Lee that he made sure to let them know he would call again in March.  March of Dimes is a kid's organization for heart problems.

If I had died from asphyxiation, with a dresser or piece of furniture being stripped in my bedroom on a tarp, with fumes in my room, and tools out, maybe they were going to say I was working in my bedroom and stripping the furniture and the fumes got to my fragile heart and I died.

All of them were there:  my Mom, Dad, and brother.  My Mom had done some things like shutting me in a closet with soaked rags, or letting my brother Levi do it, and she'd been keeping me in my room with this piece of furniture and fumed and not letting me open any windows, and somehow they were locked from the other side, or I guess that was when I found out they were blocked shut with strips of wood shoved into the place where the window would slide open.  Things got more serious when I brought up all these things I knew about, and my brother trying to strangle me, and talking about not being a Queen or something, and the note, and electrocution and then leaving me in a closet with rags soaked with toxic liquid.  I said I was calling police to put him or them in jail.  So they jumped me in my room, after all the other stuff was laid out and the room full of fumes, and my brother and Dad held me down and they put cloth over my nose and mouth and wouldn't let go.  I saw my Dad's face and he was full of hatred and I thought, "Oh my gosh.  I didn't even know."  My Mom was there too, doing the same thing.  My brother was just as determined, and then my Mom too, and then Herm banged on the window outside and I sort of think I forewarned someone...I told him or her or someone else, "They're going to do something to me."  I know I told someone something was about to happen and please call someone or come over.  So then someone did, and I blacked out and then an ambulance was called or Herm was there, because there was an oxygen tank involved.  All three members of my family were involved in that attempt to murder me and how they became a Gang of 3 and left me out, and why, and why they hated me I don't know. 

I was really shocked because I thought, my Dad that brought me books and said he loved me...I thought he did.  I thought they all did and I never suspected that even with my being tortured or set up, that any of them would try to murder me.  They continued to plot against me with others, which meant they got blackmailed and when everyone was blackmailed, there was no reasonable protection for me, or for my son later, even if someone had a change of heart.

I was shocked to see my Mom involved and I remember it made me wonder about their baby Gannon, if she'd suffocate her own baby, but I don't think that's how he died. I  think he was murdered.  Then I remembered thinking it was strange my Dad, the man, would hit me on the head with a cast iron skillet, but my Mom, a woman, would engage in guerilla tactics with my brother.  But my Dad tried to snuff me out too.  There were also gloves involved.

I do know I had said something about my brother should be in jail and then made some comment about Katie, and asked what was going on. My Dad got into a rage over it and I thought he acted more hateful or jubilant about her than my brother.  I felt they wanted to eliminate me at least partly to keep me quiet about her.  My Mom had gloves on, my brother had gloves on, and I didn't see any on my Dad at that time, but all he'd do is say he found me or tried to help me.  My Mom and brother maybe didn't want their DNA all over everything if I was supposed to look like I got asphyxiated from fumes and one person found me.  Probably after it was done they were going to remove the sticks that barred the windows because then it would look like I hadn't panicked or been locked in and could have gone out a window but didn't because it was a sudden, unexpected heart problem.  Alan Springer knew about the barricaded windows because for some reason, he came over to check them before the attempt to murder me in my room was made.  I had thought, "What is wrong with him?" because Alan rarely came over to our house and usually we were going over there and to have him show up just to check my windows and the barricades and then smirk at me, knowing I saw him, was really creepy.  I remember he was wearing gloves when he checked them.  Everyone who checked them, for a time, wore gloves.  No one touched them with their bare fingers and I started wondering why.  My Mom checked it with work gloves, and my Dad, and Alan Springer, and Scotty Springer was the only one I saw without gloves and I think he was the one to put them there first and then Alan smirked from the window when I wondered what Scotty was doing.  I was lying down resting in my bed when they did it, and I could see from the corner so when I saw Scotty, I looked closer and there was Alan too.

If they removed the barricades when I died, I guess someone could have claimed, since little kid Scotty's fingerprints were on them, it was just a kid messing around who accidentally locked me in.  They would say this, because the Springers had some kind of wood barricades like that for a couple of their windows.

I remember getting a one minute message from a man with the end about talking to me again in March.  It was before they tried to kill me.  Possibly it was right after, but I sort of remember it being before.  Then after the attempt to kill me was over, and people had talked, I am not sure what this was for, but my Dad called someone and said it was "all over" and "she's gone" and made it sound like someone had died.  I was told, "Now pick up the phone and hit redial and when they answer the phone say, "God"?" so I did.  I hit redial and Barbara Maiers answered the phone.  I said, "God?" and she said, "Oh shit!"  Then she said something like are you okay honey? and this was after major electrocution actually, not the murder attempt, because I remember my brains were being blown out at Springers and had been at my Grandpa's too to some degree.  Then when I hung up and she sounded emotional I said, "I think I dialed the wrong number".  I think she was the one who played the message from the man, but I'm not sure because there were 2 calls close together.  I had hit redial as told to, but I thought it was the wrong number.  I heard a short call from my Grandpa Garrett and then Barbara Maiers.  I had wondered what Barbara had to do with anything. From what I remember she was on the phone and then it suddenly went to a man's voice with a message to me and saying he would call next time in March.  Then the phone went dead.

I'm pretty sure I was being electrocuted and other things were happening up to that point because when I took the call I remembered wondering if anyone was going to rescue me from my parents and the Springers and their electrocution box.  I don't remember thinking about how I was just almost murdered another way so I think that attempt was later.  At first I thought Barbara was reacting because maybe she knew I was being electrocuted and thought I went nuts if I answered with "God?"

Which reminds me, I was told when I was extremely small I had a "godfather" and " godmother" and I have no idea who they are but they introduced themselves and later, as a kid I thought, "I thought only Catholics have godparents?"  For whatever reason, someone wanted to have me "christened"(or, "dedicated") as a baby, which is close to being baptized as a baby and that's another Catholic thing, though I know it's not only Catholics that do that.  So where the godparents and baby baptism figures in, I have no idea, but I supposed if E.H. was raised Catholic if I really am related, maybe that was why.  I actually saw my godparents more than one time and then it was kind of like the whole idea disappeared.

The other thing is about the "box" at the dojo.  I have said I thought maybe I carried it back and forth in the duffel bag, or Rory did, but I don't remember it being that heavy though he probably carried it, and I am not sure I saw it taken into a back room.  I saw in Locklyn's car in the back once, so I knew it went back and forth at some point, but whatever they used at the dojo may have been slightly different.  They had me sit in a chair that was like a dentists chair, and then the machinery was behind my head. 

Paul Cassell definitely showed up there at some point and then Dennis Hotchkiss did as well.  When I recognized him, he looked upset by it but then covered it up and made a big to-do whenever he saw me like he was really happy about it.  I think part of the electrocution there was to try to erase my memories of the professionals' penises I knew from Wenatchee.  I think that was part of it and I think the rest was that someone was jealous of me and wanted to harm me however they could.

What is shocking is that later, after Judge Dennis was allowing torture of my son, and refusing me the right to visit my own son and keeping him hostage, he came out of Red Robin's with 2 of his friends who made a big deal to go back in to the bathroom and then come out with big medallions like they had at the karate dojo.  So they all smirked at me, holding onto the medal part of their medallions, and walking out with Dennis and his wife.  I think they knew I didn't remember at that time, but to themselves, it was a funny inside joke, or maybe they wanted to test my knowledge before making the hard and fast decisions in court, but that's what they did.

Dennis was the same person from the dojo.  He was the same height, build, and face even back then, just younger, but never thin looking.  I had started going to the dojo feeling fine and then I was leaving feeling sick and not talkative anymore.  The man who took part in the torture with the Japanese guy looked like Kyle Flick.  Locklyn wasn't working for him at that point--I think she was working for Cassell, but the "cop" guy that had said something about being Jewish or who I thought was for some reason resembled Kyle Flick.  I remembered him as taller, as a kid, but I was a kid too.

It might also be why the kids and an instructor decided to flick my legs with my belt when they took it from me, and that is how it was described to me later, as "flicking a towel" or something.  Around that time Locklyn called "poop" or having to go "number 2", "kye".  She talked about it all the time, saying, "You have to go kai?" (pronounded kye) or "They went kai-kai?" and it's mostly a word Hispanics use for this but that same summer, when I was taken to the dojo all the time, it was used most often, in every trip.

They put a towel on my head during torture, or a kind of kerchief tie.  They also strapped my arms down.  While I was electrocuted there, Kyle, or the instructors there that were not then in front of the class teaching, but were in the private room with me, had audio recording equipment set up and were making recordings of my being degraded as a little girl.  I know this because some of the equipment was reel-to-reel and stereo-like, and they would ask each other, "Is it recording?" or say something about audio so I knew it was being recorded.  Such as, "The tape just ran out, I have to flip it over" or something like that, because one time it ran out. Another time they said, "There's about a minute left, and I need another tape" (something like that). I remember hearing something about a tape and seeing tapes, but they used the time to not only torture me, but to engage me in a conversation that any normal parent would be sick listening to.  I don't see how it was for any other purpose than degradation of me, to lessen my self-esteem and worth, to scare me, and to intimidate and harass people or a person that loved me, and cause great amounts of distress and emotional turmoil.

One of the things they asked, that would cause a normal parent distress if heard or understood to be heard from a question posed by a hostage-taker, was "If I give you this gold medal will you let me take your cherry?"

Dennis Hotchkiss was right outside the door on that day and he was part of the group that listened to these tapes and knew about my being tortured and then later, he made a point to leave a restaurant knowing I was in that location, and have me see him walking with 2 of his friends, who both took out large Olympic size medals and put them out for me see, touching them specifically as they smirked at me, so I'd notice.

These are the kinds of people that illegally abducted my son Oliver.  They counted on their electrocution of me to have erased my memories of their crimes of torture, conspiracy, and pedophilia.  It is not all that they did to me


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