*********
UPDATED 9/7/13 at 5:24 p.m.
My mother was not just
"napping" with this man named "Mike" during the day, on the
private plane I was on, she was sleeping with him at night. If you looked at a map, birds-eye view, the
bed was N, the table I drew and painted on was in the center, the couch I slept
on was S and the "guard" they had stationed at the door later, was to
the W (left side). I would say SW
approximately.
I caught my Mom in the bedroom with
Mike many times. When I asked her what
she was doing, she'd say taking a "nap". So I asked her how come her face was all
red? And she'd say, "It's
hot". I was wondering why my Mom's
face was bright red and sweaty during her "naps" with Mike but never
any other time. The other thing I asked
her was why was she naked? They brought
a fan into the room as if to make it seem that was really what was happening.
I had been sleeping in that bed at
night and they told me I had to move to the couch so then my Mom and Mike slept
in the bed and I was on the couch across from them. In the center of this room, as I've
described, there was a table where I would draw and color and make watercolor
paintings. The woman who had shown me
the crown came in a picked up my drawings to look at them, as did the "Queen/Anne"
and this other mean woman saw them too.
I had more drawings of Mommy and Mike than Mommy and my Dad. I also made a drawing for a man who told me
he was my Dad, who said he was a cattle rancher, and then one for Mike who
didn't seem to care that much. I was
drawing every day and then something bothered them about what I was drawing and
when I was asked about it, I started chattering on and on to explain. They all looked nervous and
uncomfortable. The cattle rancher who
told me he was my Dad asked me about myself, what I liked to do, and wanted to
know my favorite colors and foods. We
talked mostly about horses and cows because I was interested in it. The other man who was a cattle rancher said
his name was George Bush (Jr) and I think it might have been him because his
Dad was director of the CIA and he had access to any kind of "site"
he wanted to go to. The other reason for
thinking it's possible is that later when his face became public because of the
presidency, I made a picture for him and mailed it to him at the White House,
and I am thinking that since I never did this with anyone as an adult, the only
reason I did with him was an automatic triggered response to doing something I
did as a kid for him and recognizing him.
I do also remember he was one of few that gave his full name. I'll have to look at photos from the 80s at
another time.
The woman who brought my juice to me
began bringing me poisoned drinks after I talked about my pictures I had made
when they asked. I started throwing
up. It was bad enough that every single
time she brought my juice I threw up and was so sick I started to refuse to
drink and got dehydrated. And then it
was just water.
When I was then sleeping on the
couch, after this other man wasn't coming in to stroke my hair or sit by my bed
or talk to me, I used to call out for Mike if I needed something at night.
I know Chris Dabney, from Washington
D.C. was never a friend and has been friends with those who have tried to
murder me. I know this is true because I
realized that when his government employee friend had me stay the night, it was
set up like the private plane with my sleeping on a couch and then a low table
in the center and Chris sleeping on the other side across from me but sort of
SW. I hadn't known why I said,
"Mike!" when I was half-asleep but I know now that was why. It also
explains why I had someone by the name of "Michael" come to mind in
1997 when I didn't really know anyone by that name. Chris stared at me, like he'd seen the Grim
Reaper, when I said "Mike", because he already had information about
me.
It was me, Mike, my Mom, and a "guard"
who was put by the door inside the room and I was beat up whenever I called out
for "Mike". He came over and
would pull me out of bed, punch me in the stomach, and kick me and beat on me,
including blows to the headead, until I was unconscious. I wasn't given any drugs to go unconscious--I
was beaten up until I blacked out. It
happened at least 5-6 times. I remember
one time I didn't black out and I was hog-tied after being punched in the
stomach and then I blacked out and I don't know what happened next.
I remembered I was being
electrocuted at my house, in my bedroom in Moses Lake, WA during the time I
took some of these flights. I was tied
up with metal chains, handcuffs, and bungee cords, to my bed. What looked like a little girl's room was
turned into a torture chamber. They
would go in and take the mattress off of the bed and put it against a wall, and
I was forced to lie down on a hard surface.
There was some kind of wooden brace for my legs but I don't remember
what they had for my arms. The brace ran
along the outside of my shins or calves, from the ankle to the knee. Mormon Alan Springer and my neighbor Herm
Danielson were all involved and worked together on this. It was Herm, my Dad, Alan, my Mom, and
possibly one other neighbor came over just briefly. After they chained me down, they got out a
wooden box with metal knobs and wires coming out of it. If the box was metal, it had a wooden frame
of some kind, around the bottom, like a tray with a lip. They all wore gloves and no one would operate
it without gloves on. They used it for
some kind of a polygraph test and electrocution of me to find out what I knew
and to shut me up. If I gave them the
wrong answer, I got electrocuted. Alan
would sometimes stand at the end of the bed and watch it all--he was the Mormon
psychologist from next-door. They
sometimes got furious and so mad, Herm was standing over me with his face
bright red with rage, and then Alan.
They asked me questions about what I'd discovered about my Mom and
things from the planes. Then one time
someone came to the door unexpectedly and Alan panicked. They didn't know what to do so they were
trying to cover for it and Herm and Alan started arguing over who was going to
take the box out of the house. None of
them wanted to have it caught on them, and at different times it went different
places but it went with Alan that day.
Alan was the one I remember bringing it over a lot, and then Herm coming
over after but I think my Dad also had it for awhile.
I think the reason I preferred to be
in my walk-in closet rather than my larger bedroom was because I was tortured
in the larger bedroom and I didn't want to be there with the memories. I was locked in my closet sometimes as well,
in the dark, but it wasn't like the other things they did.
I remembered finding out at least
one of the times, the man beating me up, wearing the baseball hat inside the
plane, over my calling out for "Mike" was my Dad. He was picking me up one day and grabbed my arm
and I realized it had been him at least once. So then with Chris Dabney's Department of
"Justice" group, they had me forced to stay with some baseball person
named "Mike" and then at our house my Dad started keeping a baseball
bat by the door. It was all like some
sick joke to this country. I mean, now
my Dad, a "slugger", who punched me in the stomach, had a bat by the
door? I was shocked because my Dad and
Mike both got up to beat me at the same time once. My Dad said something like "Hey
Mike" and then Mike jumped up and both of them thrashed on me. On one occasion I remembered some man who had
tears in his eyes when he saw me and being face-down on the bed but it wasn't
Mike. I walked over and said,
"Mike" and then I said, "You're not Mike" and it was some
other man but that was a time I think they were lying on top of the covers,
clothed, and face down. I thought maybe
one time, I thought the people on the bed were drugged unconscious because they
didn't move while I was getting beat up.
I got beat up after I thought the other guy was Mike and it wasn't and I
was told not to call for him again and when I did, I was punched. I was
throwing up after I woke up sometimes, being hog-tied and then they'd untie me
in the morning. I might have even partly
slept curled in the fetal position later in my life, out of a fear if I didn't, I'd be punched.
With the electrocution and getting
ironed, that came back to me one time while my Mom was refinishing
furniture. It was either the smell of
the paint thinner or varnish remover or the tools in her hand that triggered my
memory. And Granny reminded me by
accident when she was getting out Crisco because I had Crisco or shortening
rubbed over my back before I was burned.
My Mom and Dad kept handcuffs in a drawer in the kitchen. They had them as long as I was being chained
up in my bedroom. I thought it was
normal. I would distance myself from
thinking about being chained up and the handcuffs so that I could look at them
in another way as normal and play pretend with them. So I used to play with my brother and then
they disappeared and it was fake ones, and then none and then it was denied
anyone had ever had handcuffs. I
practiced handcuffing in the kitchen like it was no big deal. When I tried to tie my brother up, I didn't
know where the chains were so I looked for rope and sheets and then my Mom came
in and said no, we couldn't play that, but we did a few times anyway and when
she said it would hurt his wrists I said, "No it won't. I'll use something soft". How I went from being an electrocuted torture
victim to pretending it was a game with my brother I don't know but that is how
mixed up the United States (American dream "hope"; and civil rights
"promises)wanted us to be.
George Bush Jr., for one thing, and
his advisors must have freaked out when I sent him a "picture I made"
because he was in office at the time and might have wondered if I was sending a
blackmail message or something like "Do you remember when?..."
And what about finding out my
parents corresponded with the Middletons?
Isn't it true Bush is friends with some of the English royalty? They're related and intermarried to a degree,
and his Dad was CIA director.
e of the English royalty? They're related and intermarried to a degree,
and his Dad was CIA director.
Aside from being kidnapped by
primarily strangers on several U.S. government planes, and this is not to
include what occurred after we crossed over to Canada by ferry or over the
border, because some of the flights were from there...I think it's called
"kidnapping" if you're a kid that is chained up to a bed, even if it's
by your parents. It wasn't just my
parents however. The U.S. had forced me
to be surrounded by neighbors who were all involved. The Coombs had a son who was military, and he
saw me chained to the bed being electrocuted; Herm Danielson (military) knew;
and the Springers (psychologist for FBI) were involved. We only had 3 neighbors nearby that
surrounded the house, and they were the ones, although earlier I was at other
houses too. The Coombs guy came to the
doorway, looked slightly scared, and turned around. It was either him or Scott Sandberg
actually. Jim Sandberg saw me chained up
too.
I was not just
chained to my bed. At one point, before just being chained there, I had an IV
hooked up while I was chained to bed. I remember being in a hospital before
this, but at my house, in my bedroom, Alan Springer knew about the IV. Then he
used to stand at that side of the bed where the IV had been, when I was turned
around to the other side of the bed to be chained and tortured later. I also
had weights placed on my body, and was asked if I wanted my
"punishment" lying right-side up or face-down. One time they brought
in a saw-horse from outside, into the living room and then tied me up using the
saw-horse as a brace to hold me.
In addition to this,
my Dad would lie down on top of me with all of his weight while I was chained
up and mock me and say "push". Everything that Jew Josh Gatov did to
me, was taken from the practice book my Dad and the U.S. military gave him.
Robin Bechtold got the same manual. I used to scream "Get off of me!"
and he'd get right up to my face, while lying on me, and say calmly,
"push". After this they were putting huge concrete blocks on my body
while I was chained down. Then, when I pushed my Dad's face away from me one
time, as he was lying on top of me, he hit me and cut up my belly button with a
knife.
pg. 93. E.H. says
just one hour out of Texas, I began reading The Hunt for Red October. He says
Lee Marvin eyed the paperback. He is quoted as saying, "It is a pretty
authentic piece of writing. Look up front and check out all the places he got
his information."
I was last talking
about the man who pushed a bowl of cherries at me on one of the private plane
trips, the man who looks almost exactly like Louis Freeh, former FBI director.
I think it's slightly odd since E.H. says people were expected to follow him to
the places he'd been before and I believe he had visited me on one of those
plane trips. One of the men told me, to my face, he was my Dad, and it was a
man who said he was a cattle rancher or that his family had had cattle and a
ranch. He said that was what he'd really like to do but he was a businessman.
My thinking is, if
E.H. is slightly alluding to a few things here and there, what about this? I
was confronted with some man who looked exactly like Louis Freeh, except I sort
of remember maybe his eyes were brown, but maybe not. I know he was about the
same age and had the exact same kind of expression. He was slightly more cocky
though, which doesn't seem as much Freeh's outward style. From photos alone,
Freeh can have an aloof expression or possibly cocky I guess, but not exactly
mean or mocking. Cocky and mocking are different things. But anyway, it's
possible that E.H. mentions the flight first class from Tuscon to St. Louis, because
it WAS Louis and he somehow knew what was going to happen. He describes this
person Lee Marvin as "silver-haired" which makes me think of the
Sterling family, which is Jewish, and which may have had something to do with
some of the flights. I wrote about that but it was deleted so I have to write
it again. I mention this because every time something about "Jews"
has come up, it seems I've been targeted for either rape or assassination and
some of the Catholics colluded with Jews on this, but it almost seems to me
that it's been more Jews and Mormons all along, and atheists/agnostics until my
run-in with Catholics later, which I didn't expect. I think the Jews used
Catholics to cover for their decade-old plots. So E.H. says they chatted about
the book and he was bound for Israel to make a movie, and he said he was flying
to Copenhagen. He says he'll never forget meeting his hero from The Dirty Dozen
and he asked him for his autograph and he signed a blank postcard. I notice he
brings this up and he says he was making a movie for Israel which makes me
think yeah, and what have I been doing all these years for seriously messed up
Jews. They've obviously tried to surveil and videotape me and photograph me and
kill me.
The other thing I
thought about, which is really my own thought and a tangent is he says check
all the places he got his information so I might do that myself on that book,
and before a whole section of my blog was deleted, so that only the part about
my Dad and parents is here but not the parts that implicate all of these
military and british people, and government, the facts I was adding about
flights is something others should check on. It should be discoverable
information. Not all of it perhaps, but a lot of it.
He says the FBI
confiscated the postcard to his wife as a memento and I'm sure they did. They
confiscated my fingerprints for the same reason and then made me pay the fee
for my NCIC records twice. Because they're not the problem of course. I mean,
they really needed that extra $18.
He says, pg. 94, that
arriving at Kennedy Airport in New York, he realized the NY could already know.
His boss called the FBI and by 9 p.m. Sunday, as E.H. was halfway to London,
the FBI knew he'd resigned so they knocked on the door and found he was gone.
He says they arrived at London's Heathrow Airport before sunrise and then they
were in Copenhagen. He says he decided it wasn't good to stay in Copenhagen so
he went to Helsinki. He says he didn't go through customs in Denmark and stayed
in the international area, getting an S.A.S. ticket. I notice S.A.S. is the
same as R.S.A. It's the same airline before the Swedish line dropped the Royal
from their title. He also mentions getting into London before the sunset. I
remember many, many, sunsets from the planes I took. Can I tell you, do you
have ANY idea how much I was flying when I was young? I think few know. I
colored in sunsets in 1st grade for main pictures because of it. I always
wanted to see them. I don't remember as many sunrises and I do sunsets from the
cockpit. I went back and forth from looking out ahead to being in the main
area, if I wasn't being tied up or locked in a closet or beat up.
It's not like I was
in some trailer with everyone pretending we were on a plane. Contrary to what
some would have others believe, the flying was actual, as was the attempt to
assassinate me by having me open the emergency door to get sucked out into the
sky to my death. I was inconvenient or "dangerous" for some reason. I
don't know if first they thought to kill me and photograph the evidence, of
that and my torture, to distress someone who loved me (?) or if they decided it
was just as good to them to hold me hostage and keep sending distressing
reminders of my fate as a torture and government pedophilia victim. And then,
just attempt assassinations again whenever it seemed least likely to draw
attention or they thought they'd trained me enough. By the time they got ahold
of me for 'surgery' in 1995 and then again in 2009, this country figured now
they could just torture me at will, without needing to access or use any of the
programming they did of me to kill myself, not that they wouldn't still, but
this is what they did. They used more government grunts to hold me hostage and
then implanted more technology into my body to facilitate torture and for some
reason they have been extremely paranoid at the idea of my having another
child.
Why should the U.S.
be paranoid? They desperately want my eggs, if they didn't already steal some
in 2009 during my surgery. They also want me to raise their kids and give THEIR
kids great opportunities and starts. But this country is paranoid at the idea
of my raising my own child because it's more than a triple threat to them.
pg. 95. E.H. says in
Helsinki, a customs agent eyed his Levis and hiking boots and asked how long he
planned to stay in Finland and he said "Ten days". He got
coffee to recover from jet lag. He says "Paranoia had been
setting in since I awoke in London."
Well I don't know. I
remember the London clock. No one liked that I suddenly noticed one day.
They Dance Alone:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLYwqG6L9wc (at 20:28)
I don't know if I
ended up in Copenhagen sometimes for a CIA stint but I'm sure I was often in,
or touching down at London.
E.H. says he felt there
was one group that would help him but he was afraid of them, and they were the
Soviets. If he thought the Soviets were the same thing as the
"so-be-its" like my family, E.H. wouldn't have much help. If he is in
hiding, that's great. If he's dead, it's because of the U.S. and it makes one
sort of nervous about going to the Soviets. I want to hear the KGB side of the
story because they say it's different from what the media gives them.
It also makes me feel
creeped out, now that I know Edward Lee Victor Howard is supposedly my Dad and
I have a 'mouse' design on my back like the Victor rat trap design, and at the
same time my mother was sleeping around with some British man named
"Mike", while then going to the house to make "mickey mouse"
pancakes for me with ears and everything. I don't think that's a big deal, too
much but it also creeps me out how he says "they made a meal out of
me" when my parents were literally cooking me, and the U.S. government has
done the same. I mean who puts Crisco on their kid's back and then fries it? or
a number of other things I can think of.
E.H. says he didn't
know if he could get a hiding place with the Soviets in Finland or the Soviet
Union but he decided to try. He says he was worried they might not let him go.
I would say I'd have
the same thoughts. My worry would be "what if someone thinks I really did
come over here to spy so they don't let me visit other places?" or
"What if one of the officials would take a bribe from a U.S. official, for
the right amount, to lock me up in one of their mental hospitals?" that
kind of thing.
He says he decided to
take the chance. He asked them to take him to the embassy and he paid the fare
after stopping at a phone booth. To me this sounds sort of like Canada. Of
course, I'm just thinking, but it reminds me of stopping at the border check to
Canada or how we went across to Canada by ferry (not fare). This sort of makes
me think there is possibly something about Canada implied because he would know
about me, but then again, Canada and Russia are 2 different things. Possibly,
without saying so, it might suggest he attempted to seek help in a place like
Canada, with people who were sort of like Russians, or he could be saying some
of those Canadians are Russians. He's going there from within Finland.
My other thought is
that this "friend" of mine who was never a friend, Geoff Rasmussen,
took his Mormon mission there in Finland. It bothers me now that I know about
E.H. and also that his wife would make some snide comment about "Maybe you
should just move to England" when she was the one who went to England with
Geoff, not me. I first started having serious apprehensions, aside from some
doubt in high school, when I saw a blog of photos of kids that was clearly
suggestive of pedophilia and it was Mormon and then I found out they were
friends of the Rasmussens. So having a son of my own, and knowing what a
variety of "religious" and non-religious have done to me as a kid,
and what my son talked about, I feel my son is endangered in this country and
has zero support. I am also concerned about some of the orchard owners around
my son, because I think some of them are Jewish and knowing how they've
targeted me, E.H. (to kill him), and my son, I feel extremely cautious about
who my son is near. The cops there are in on everything. Going to a cop or FBI
in Wenatchee, about my son Oliver, or to Canadians, only a couple of hours to
the border, is like what I remember of thinking the Queen (or Anne) or Diana is
the highest person and about to be killed out the window; or the principal is,
and he's beating me with a belt; or my Dad is and he's punching me in the
stomach with "Mike" who was my mother's lover (a lover and my Dad are
ganging up on ME???); or my nice neighbors, nice Mormon ho-hum psychologist who
comes over to watch me suffer, chained up without my shirt on, tortured. The
U.S. made it their highest priority to have me think there is no one in the
entire world that I can trust. Wait...that would be maybe 9th highest priority
because their first priority was to kill me off.
So when I think about
Finland, I feel nervous about it because there has been so much made about
Geoff going there, and then E.H. was there and then later dated or went out
with Finnish women, and then this whole thing, a sick U.S. joke about
"finish" that I'll get into later. And my Mom, refinishing furniture
as I have flashbacks with that smell and the tools in her hand, of HER
torturing me. I mean, if there is one decent twin or triplet with the Dicksies,
taking all the slack from the bad one, that is crazy.
pg. 96. E.H. realized
it wasn't the Russian embassy but a kind of trade mission and was told the
consulate was down the street. I would think it sounds like, transitioning from
the airplane trip, and mentioning not being in Denmark customs specifically but
an international zone, the idea of trade or a trade mission makes me wonder.
Granny, my Granny, always went to this store called "the mission
house". I guess I wonder what was going on aside from kidnapping me on
those planes. Did they haul people onto them and have babies and trade and
steal people? Or did they just traffic people for sex? or were people
disappearing, nowhere to be found, as I would have had I gone head-over into
the wild white yonder? "Does having a crown above your head mean you're an
angel?" Uh, yeah, thanks for the warning. Nothing like a
halo-ghost-trust-buster. "You guys are looking at penises? and you didn't
even want to hear me sing anymore or want any of my drawings and pictures?"
Pardon me. Penises and a baby photo and a stop watch.
E.H. says an officer
came up immediately and was 50, gray hair, and took his passport. He was
worried they'd think he was nuts and would throw him out. He gave them JB's FBI
business card. Then he says another man, 50, gray hair, and with glasses showed
up. He says he repeated his story. This might refer to 2 men who looked alike,
twins, or doubles in a symbolic way. He says he thought it didn't go well at
first because he thought they would have the information to know right away he
was really in a bad position, but he was worried they'd think he was a
"crank". Here I think about my Crystal doll with her arm you had to
crank (sort of) to have her walk with you. A worser crank was my
Jack-in-the-Box singing "pop goes the weisel".
He was, pg. 97, a
weary traveler with jet lag, and took a taxi to the first hotel the Soviets
suggested.
The receptionist said
it was full and he was back on the street he didn't know where the second one
was but he found a pleasant-looking one and they had a room and he fell asleep.
He says he woke in
the evening and walked to a Greek resterauant.
I'm not sure what I
think here. This guy named Matt Christian took me to the "church of
elvis" and then a Greek restaurant for my first date and I thought he was
weird. However, I am not sure what happened to him or why. He clearly had a
government contact and yet so did many of the kids I went to high school with.
If he was on E.H.'s side, he was possibly murdered. It was said he died in a "car
accident" by "falling asleep at the wheel". ? How does a coroner
know someone was asleep before they make impact? I hadn't liked him, thinking
he was belittling me with the date, but then I noticed how all these people who
claimed to be best friends weren't really that sad and just saying how terrible
it was he fell asleep at the wheel. He was far smarter than most of the people
I knew. I was told he was a genius. I think he was much more of a
"genius" than Mike Smith, some guy who had encyclopedia knowledge.
I looked at the song
playing now as I think of him and it's "Russians" (live). (at
2:06:54) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLYwqG6L9wc. Before that,
"Never Coming Home". I thought of him bc of the
Greek restaurant E.H. went to and then tonight, I was squeezing out red gel
from a pastry tube to eat as I did as a kid, to bring back memories and it made
me think of some people there licking ketchup off of the table.
Anyway, I got this
red gel that is for pastry designs because we had it in the kitchen and I used
to squeeze it out onto a finger and then I realized one day, "This looks
like blood" and my Mom didn't like what I associated with blood next so
she got rid of the red kind, got green, and then switched to frosting tubes
that didn't squeeze out in thin lines.
I didn't arrange
anything for these photos. My table is disorganized but I was getting a
drink and noticed some inadvertent symmetry and photographed what was there
already.
E.H. says he thought
about his future and his situation was ironic--3 years earlier he'd been
planning to go to Moscow as an enemy and now he was praying they would help
him. He says from some deep recess of his mind he recalled the Arabic
saying, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend". He wanted
to explore his options and satisfy his curiosity.
I think, just a
tangent, one of my favorite Sting songs is "Why Should I Cry For
You?" This is the only song I remember Matt Christian playing for me
in the car on our only date. He played a lot of different kinds of songs,
all over the place, but I remember this one. Anyway, I have no idea whose
side he was on. A lot of people who tried to kill me were friends with
him but I can't say he was involved because I don't know. He was
supposedly madly in love with me, and I saw him watching me all the time at
school. He liked theater and acting and creative things and was called
"brilliant". He also wrote some poetry which he showed me in
the van. I always wondered if he was part of planning my assassination in
my car, and many of his friends had something to do with trying to harm me but
I don't know. It would horrible to find out the U.S. is plotting
assassinations and then hiding out the people who tried to kill me, I mean,
imagine Matt was one, and then imagine Mike is alive and in hiding, and they
sent Josh to another country to be safe from prosecution for rape and then
return, and just imagine the things this country could do.
So when I think of
this saying, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" I first pondered it
and thought it was good. The problem is knowing who the real enemy is to
begin with.
I just noticed what
time it is: 3:45 a.m. and I have to go to bed so I'll write tomorrow. I
got sidetracked tonight.
Well, I'll do a
little more...He says, pg. 98, his funds were dwindling so he checked out of
the hotel, toured Helsinki, had lunch by the waterfront and when he went back
the consulate man gave him a soft drink, and was told Moscow sent Helsinki a
blistering cable, chewing them out and later learned they had turned Helsinki
upside down looking for him. He says they told him Moscow would be glad
to receive him and that he was told to get out and that they thought Helsinki
was unsafe for him and to leave that night for the Soviet Union. He was asked
if he'd sign a statement that showed he was going to Russia voluntarily
and for protection and he agreed, adding in his own hand he could leave
whenever he wanted.
I wonder why Helsinki
was through unsafe? They had him get into the trunk of a car to take him
over the border, and 2 people got out while one stayed in. I suppose I wonder
if I was taken across that way sometimes. I remember some kind of a weird
triangle topped wood case, like a tool box, but it has to do with a
grate. Like going into a man-hole or under a grate and some kind of wood
frame but I don't know why...I will think of it later. I started to
remember when I began thinking about a grate and possibly going under some kind
of grate or something about one.
Pg. 99, he says he
gave them his passport, and they stamped it but had a mistake on it so stamped
it again, and the visas were for the Finnish border. He says they
travelled on a highway that paralleled the Gulf of Finland, a finger of water
that is part of the Baltic Sea. It took 2 hours to drive 100 miles.
Umm...I just
remembered being in the trunk of a car but I am not sure why. I need to
sleep and think about it tomorrow. I think it was more than a few times
because I just had a flashback to remembering the feeling while reading about "when
we let I expected them to immediately pull over and let me out. But they
drove for about five minutes before stopping." That part had me
remembering something.
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