I'm still updating some information I lost here, but once I'm past a few pages I'll be caught up. In this time I've written a few other things but I'll make comments as I go.
I'll start by commenting on the pgs 98-99.
When E.H. writes about the blistering cable and Moscow chewing them out, I remember different things. He says Moscow had sent Helsinki a cable. One thing that did happen when I almost flew out the emergency door of the plane, I barely survived holding on, at some point, I think, to a cable. It was either there or the helicopter that I had blisters from holding on to keep from dying. I think it might have something to do with my Mom's parachute too but not sure. I know Helsinki makes me think of the Devil's Punchbowl and how I was taken there after being punched in the stomach over commenting about my red juice (punch) that was making me throw up. Later, after I wasn't flying anymore, I was throwing up orange stuff more and then it was quit when I started to pay attention to what I was throwing up and when.
He mentions the Gulf of Finland is a finger of water which is part of the Baltic Sea. This comment about a finger of water makes me think about when, I am pretty sure, I was on a plane and some man was putting a finger inside of me (I was very little) and then later some doctor did (Fallon or Springer) and then the last person I remember was my Dad, who came in and said "One or two fingers?" and had me lying down on my bed, on my back, and put two fingers inside of me with my Mom and another person present if I'm correct. Then I was asked, with the fingers held up, "Am I holding up one or two fingers?"
He mentions this after saying they crossed over a border into another country with him inside of the trunk of a car.
That reminds me of being taken back and forth from Canada and I do remember being inside the trunk of a car, tied and gagged. I don’t know if I was always tied and gagged, but I remember getting out in my nightgown, always in my pajamas and being groggy.
I also notice that with the finger of the Baltic Sea you’re near Stockholm, which is where the idea “Stockholm Syndrome” comes from, where a kidnapped person is forced to bond to their kidnappers and enemy country. This country, the U.S., has never been my country and it is not my son’s country. When I look over at the map for Israel, it is Israel and on the other side of the “finger” of the Dead Sea, is Jordan, which is where Katie Middleton was taken to be raised for 2 years after the idea of her conception thrilled minds.
My other thoughts are that mention of the town Virojoki (in English, sort of sounding like “choke-y” and then mentioning asphyxiation, there must be something to do with choking attempts or threats. I am trying to think about my own life and I remember saying all the time “I can’t breathe!” when “wrestling” with my Dad but we also had pillows put over our faces, or I did, a few times, to where I couldn’t breathe and it was just “joking”. I barely remember something else around my neck once but it might not have been my parents and I would have to think about it. I know my brother tried to choke me and once, actually seriously harmed me. He used a cord of some kind. I do remember that on that occasion, I was seriously afraid because he wouldn’t quit and this was still in Moses Lake, but sometime before we moved. I either kicked out one of his feet, or tried flipping him over my back. I know he was not stopping so I did something and then after I did this, he never tried it again. I maybe even grabbed his “balls”. I know one time my Mom was mad at me because he was in a corner over it because I kicked him or grabbed him.
When he did it, he was seriously angry over something and yet he was cold. He attempted it in the living room, on our carpet, behind me with his back to where our dining table had been. I was basically facing a window but at a distance from it, and he came up behind me with a cord, like a black cable of some kind, and put it over my neck and then pulled and I couldn’t breathe. This is around the same time he was wielding knives at me, and threatening me with them, and he had also punched me right in the stomach, the same way my parents had in the past. Neither my Mom or Dad was around when he pulled the cord out on me and when I told them about it they said he wouldn’t really choke me. He even had gloves on, like a psycho. He had on black pants, black shirt, gloves, and a black hat with a black cord one time and another time it was more spontaneous.
I was just listening to some Donna Summers music and also the duet by Streisand and Summers "Enough is Enough" and I remembered what the woman said on the plane to me, and it was the basis for that song. It was in 1979 that song came out, when I was 5 years old, and it means I was possibly younger than that when people tried to kill me. I think so because I heard the Donna Summers song “You Can Ring My Bell” and remembered ringing the bell “a service bell” on the plane for someone there and putting a crown away for someone in a drawer.
I suppose I’ll add here, since I just wrote about some of the sexual abuse by government in U.S., Canada, some royal involvement, that another question I might have is with regard to William Wagler. Obviously, when my parents are beating me up and friends and family are electrocuting me on a government-approved basis, I have to question most things. For one thing, I remembered as I was listening to the song “Another Bites The Dust” by Queen, someone told me on the plane, who was not the Dad I’ve always known, “You’re not adopted”. He told me I had been kidnapped. Honestly, he must have been telling me something that was true because I was being chained up, tied up, gagged, electrocuted, and poisoned, along with being sexually abused.
A lot of people knew, and this was the Christian school in Moses Lake. So I would like to know when some of these individuals are ready to “talk” about persons who went on to rape me and used personal information about government abuse to facilitate and premeditate those rapes, attempted assassinations, and kidnapping of my son Oliver.
This country is not entitled to kidnapping me and then kidnapping and torturing my son.
I was told, to my face, I was kidnapped. How long has the U.S. had me in their control, as a prisoner and kidnapped? My ENTIRE life. My son is better than the U.S.A.
(And by the way, I am doing nothing to change the font for this type at all, so something else is occurring with the computer because I have tried to reset it and it won't change to one font. As I've explained, I've had problems with hacking on my computers for a very long time, and it's U.S. government-sponsored, not some "kid" somewhere on their own).
Also, the person who told me I had been kidnapped was on the same plane where I was punched repeatedly in the stomach until I blacked out and another time, went unconscious from a gas mask of some kind, and one of the persons punching me was my U.S. “Dad”, Robert Garrett Jr. The man who told me I was kidnapped was another man there.
Also, I read a preview to this book. I read it when I opened up the letter from Edward Lee Victor Howard because I recognize some of the same material he wrote then, so he was working on a draft at that time. No one opened the letter—I had my curiosity get the better of me when I read the already-opened letter from Katie Middleton and Mike and then thought what else don’t I know about and I opened it. It was part of his book.I’m sure it was Katie Middleton because the letter was from London, England and the other person was “Mike” and the label was M.M. I don’t think it was spelled or printed all the way out. I remember this book of his book where he writes about “asphyxiation” because I asked my Mom what it meant and when I said this word, she came around the corner looked worried and said why. When I was reading his letter I thought some of it sounded like he knew what was being done to me and I wondered how this man would know. So if he paid for a bottle of wine with a $100 bill over lives endangered, it is on this page 100 that I recognize the same man who tried to get the attention of the U.S. Department of State or someone to help me and all this country was doing was torturing me. I remember this part of this chapter, and it is Chapter 8. He says in his book he started writing this in 1988 but I read the letter before that year which means the CIA wanted him to change the date for some reason.
Pg. 100. E.H. says he got out of the trunk of the car and was welcomed by “an elderly man with a mustache and glasses” who wore “a black derby hat”. It was General Vitaly Alexandrovitch from the Soviet Union.
I suppose with some of these Russian names like Yurchenko and Oleg and Vitaly I think of “your chains”, “oh leg!” and “Italy”. I am not saying it has anything to do with me of course, but the inclusion of these names was maybe deliberate by Howard, who had to have known about my being chained up, literally, and having my leg broken with a golf club by my Dad, and maybe…who knows…little Lee? Or Italy? I wonder how it is pronounced it Russian…let me check. vi-TAL-ee.
Pg. 101. Chapter 9: The Welcome Wagon
This is an important chapter with even the first few lines. I could say it might be coincidental that we received all these “welcome wagon” gifts from the community in Moses Lake at my house and then again in Sherwood when we moved, but knowing I had already intercepted part of his book, the Moses Lake “welcome wagon” might have been following his trail.
And oh, this is really out of place here, but I remembered something about Grandma Connie. I had been asking everyone why she had bruises all over her arms and legs while she was still alive. She was confined to bed and I wanted to help but I wasn't allowed to, but I did ask questions to this effect. I asked her personally and I asked everyone else. She used to hold my hand and look at my arms and look terrified sometimes and I would look at her arms and they were all bruised up. Usually she was very happy to see me and twinkling and curt with the others, but then later towards the end of her life, she looked panicked. I know she never got dementia or went nuts because her eyes were so clear and sharp. She used to grip my hand and didn't want to let go. So I got worried and wanted to help change her bed and linens and things and I wasn't allowed in there and it would take about 20 minutes for this to be done and then she'd look exhausted. I seriously wouldn't doubt that an autopsy would show something because there are too many strange things in that area, and the Jews had moved in next door too and everything was disappearing to them or Locklyn. I was at first told that's where the spinning wheel went and I said, "Why is it at Locklyn's house?! It's mine!" But I think aside from that, I think an autopsy would show she did not die a natural death. Just because someone is older doesn't mean their death is of a natural cause. She or someone else suggested to me she was being poisoned. Her bruising could have been from having to be handled during bed changes, or possibly beatings from someone going in to knock her out, or it could be from arsenic which thins the blood and in a person with a predisposition to hemophilia or a clotting disorder, could result in bruising. She was getting horrific bruises and she secretly pulled up the bedsheets to show me her legs herself. I don't know that much about her except that she was "Grandma Connie" who was my great-grandmother and Granny and Waverly's mother. Granny knew Waverly had been her favorite as a kid but Granny took care of her in old age. She was also known as "Grandma Louis" by my mother because she married a man whose last name was "Louis" as well as a Breigenzer. I am pretty sure her maiden name was Wooten, which is English. She was the one who loved to play the piano and dance. She worked as a waitress and met Breigenzer when he walked in and asked her to marry him, and she or her mother had auburn red hair. When she showed me her bruises, she pretty much looked like Yulia Tymoshenko. I.e., beat up.
I started asking questions. I was told, “Rory goes in and pinches her”. A few times, I did see it but she would swat his hands away from her non-pareil cream mints. He did go in and pinch her but more than that was happening. Then one time, after she showed me bruises, I didn’t want to leave her and my Mom and Granny got mad I said she has bruises all over and both of them went into her room and it didn’t sound good. Actually, that was when I was hearing what sounded like twigs or branches being broken in half. I got sick from it and I believed, as a girl, both my Mom and Granny had hurt her, or punished her for showing me her bruises. She was holding onto my hand, looking panicked and I said, “I’ll go get Granny and my Mom” and her eyes widened, she shook her head no, looked scared to death, squeezed my hand as hard as she could and kept nodding “no”. But I didn’t understand because I was a little girl and I assumed they were the ones to help her. They probably eventually killed her.. I had two thoughts as a kid, at the time, and I may have been a psychic kid then, early-on, before I was electrocuted, and it was that my Mom and Granny hurt her, by the way she reacted when I said I’d go get them, and that Kyle Flick, the Jew who had moved to town, and become the “family attorney” was partly to blame for her death.
Anyone who is psychic, or gifted, or has knowledge of the history of things will know I am not lying and I would have no reason to lie. She's dead. But I did try to help her, and what she was trying to say, to me, to help me and herself maybe, was that her own family was dangerous.
I sensed Kyle Flick had something to do with the disappearance of some of the family property. He was too suspicious, and his timing was odd. I don’t even remember when it was, but I know I felt there was something wrong with him from the start and..there is! There just is.
How she could be related to me, or care enough to let me know about some things, and then not my Mom, I have no idea, but she knew something was wrong and she was terrified of both of them. Other people who went into her room were Loren. Based on what I know my family has done to me, I have no reason to doubt her fear and panic were real. Besides which, why should I care so much about a spinning wheel? Granny, my Mom’s Mom, told me herself I got the grandfather clock, and that was her saying, not mine and I never cared about all of the property, but Granny would say the house and the clock. I don’t expect that, and a spinning wheel is little compared to those things, but I know, 100%, that spinning wheel was already given to me by my Grandma Louis and whoever took it is a thief. It was, as they say in legal terms, "common knowledge". There was no dispute and then it was gone.
What I think would be more interesting, aside from finding out EXACTLY where it ended up, is to have an autopsy performed on her body. I am one of the only "decent" individuals in the entire lot, related or not. I also remember my Dad going in, in a baseball hat, with my Mom, and that same sickening sound of something like bones breaking, screams, and then silence. I was so scared, and then when I went in to look, she looked in shock or drugged--out of it, comatose almost. They went in one time with either a golf club or baseball bat. It was done after I told everyone she showed me her bruises and why did she have them? I am pretty sure she told me they punched her in the stomach too because she pointed there, but I remember bruising most.
She was bed-ridden for some reason and couldn't get out of bed and had a bed-pan which I sort of helped with a few times, but with a turn of my head for privacy respect, and then after she was telling me about her suffering, she was getting whacked.
I was getting whacked and my great-grandma Connie was getting whacked. It was not the sound of a bed being hit, or broken wood, or anything like that. I don't know how to describe it, but it was sickening. I have a feeling if I knew the sound then, for her, I had probably been somewhere near when it happened to another person too, and I was also a victim.
I don’t know why my parents, in their earlier years, always thought they should wear a hat when they whacked people. I mean, after all, Robin Bechtold and Josh Gatov didn’t worry about a head covering when they assaulted or raped others.
The bone breaking sound was sort of like this, but not extended this long and louder, and it sounded more like one big snap. I don't know how to explain it but like this sound, a different quality than a club or bat or person hitting wood or metal and breaking it...it was this other horrific sound. And it happened to me too, and I was chained in my bed with my leg elevated, an IV drip and everything and no one even knew. Well, some people knew, but not very many.
So then she was given something to drink whenever it happened and looked drugged. For me, they just had me on a drip IV and then plastered up the ceiling later so it looked like nothing heavy was ever suspending from it.
The other thing my great-grandmother tried to do was have me take jewels from her. For example, she tried to sew them under my dress and told me to hide them and not give them to anyone. It was later in her life when I think she was worried about things. She had no reason to give them to me because she could have given them to my Mom or Dad if they went in to visit, so there was no necessity for it so it is possible she was trying to actually give them to me. She never gave them to me and said to give them to someone else, she gave them to me and with a scared look told me to hide them and keep them safe. My Mom always found everything.
It is possible, then, that later when I was asked where I got money on the bus, and joked it was from my Mom's purse, it was used to discredit me, or that later when I worked at Helzberg Diamonds, the Jew there who was manager (Barry) accused me of having something to do with a stolen diamond when I never did.
To my knowledge, both my great-grandma Connie and I were tortured and beaten over everything. I have no reason to think she was secretly transporting them to another family member, but I was little and when I tried to think of where to hide them, my Mom always found everything.
I don't know how others would know, but others did know, just like other secrets about my life, and I have been tortured my entire life for having something to offer, not because I was a thief.
I have no reason to believe the jewels were intended for anyone other than me—in fact, she gave me the totally opposite impression and instructions. The problem was that she was older and bed-ridden, and I was a very little girl who was being monitored by the U.S. government and abused. Whatever she gave me I knew was mine, but it was taken away from me. So I guess she gave me some valuable jewelry along with the spinning wheel but I have everything stolen from me. I was definitely NOT being used as a “courier” for her, with her jewels. She gave me what she had. She asked me if I knew how to sew because she wanted me to sew them into my clothes and then there wasn’t time so she gave them to me. I maybe put them in my shoe.
There was definitely a diamond involved and it wasn't a Helzberg type. It was my great-grandmothers, who tried to secretly give it to me. She must have known what they were up to. For one thing, she saw cut scars all over my arms, and she was bruised everywhere. Sure enough, as soon as she was gone, the spinning wheel that was known was mine was gone. She loved my story about the spiders spinning webs with me. She was the only one who cared and wanted to hear about it.
I think I put some jewelry in my tights as well. She looked disappointed when I said I didn't have a needle or couldn't sew because her hands hurt or something and she couldn't either. I told her I knew how to sew on a button.
She gave me her wedding ring for one thing or some diamond ring (she said it was her wedding ring) and she showed me a couple of other things and gave them to me. My mother got extremely excited when she found everything. She said "Where did you get this?" and I told her, "Nana (or Grandma Connie) gave them to me." Right after she gave me a large number of jewels, she had her bones broken and was drugged, but she showed me her bruises before giving me the jewels so I knew not to tell anyone.
I was whacked right away, after she was first.
No one else discovered the jewels. It was me and her and then my Mom and I didn't see anyone else "seeing" them or taking them out. My Mom took them away from me and I knew Grandma Connie didn't want her to have them, or anyone else but me. If an old lady wanted to put on a good act, she didn't have to act that hard for a little girl. I mean, she didn't have to be bruised up and terrified first, and scared to let my hand go, or show me private areas, or look at the cut scars on my arms. She also didn't have to try that hard to look doped up or scream or anything. If she had wanted to give it to my Mom, my Mom went in all the time, and could have taken them or received them.
So they were mine.
Jewels and a spinning wheel.
But that's not even the half of it.
If she died with newly broken bones I’m not a liar. Even if it’s not found, I’m not a liar about this, but I think something would prove I’m telling the truth. What is odd is that later, Mormons made fun of this whole thing, and some others as well, and I was supposed to be associated with “Harris”, “Iris”, air wrist (?), and who knows what else. Anything but “heiress”.
She even told me don’t let your Mom find this. Why would she want my Mom to take something and give it to someone else if she said don’t let your Mom know, and didn’t give it to my Mom directly?
Later, my Mom would say to me, “You don’t take care of things” and “You can’t hold onto things” and so on. I was 6 years old or less. This is probably why they had a dress made or bought for me that was like “Alex Romanov’s” dress when the Romanov family was hiding jewels in their undergarments and were able to deflect the bullets because of it.
Soon enough , I had a lot of U.S., Canadian, and British citizens ejaculating all over me, punching me, beating me, discrediting me, calling me a slob, stealing my homework, making me late…killing my unborn, torturing my son..and here I am now. Almost 39. 39 years of torture by the United States government.
Pg. 101. E.H. says all he could manage was "Thank you for your help in coming here." The General introduced his aide, Vladimir, and "ushered me into a black Volga". He writes, "They were taking me seriously." The Volga is a river in Russia known as "Mother". It also means wet, or moisture, or stream. Black Volga could be a symbol of sophistication or of 'black river' or 'black mother' or 'black widow'. I would say, since E.H. just finished writing about asphyxiation and being in the trunk of a car, black widow would be the closest approximation. He says they'll leave Leningrad and go to Moscow but they'd eat first. The driver was ex-KGB who was supervising "exfiltration from Finland". They stop at a hotel run by Intourist and then had a meal and a bottle of Johnny Walker scotch. He is welcomed and then says he drained the scotch.
To me it sort of sounds like taking out something from one kind of place or person and I think of "intourist" as inside of something. Johnny Walker (JW) scotch also sort of sounds like "jew" and if he means to imply something about Israel, it's possible someone is taking something from one group and trying to give it to someone else instead, against another's will. He says he drained the scotch, and this could mean stole from a scotch with knowledge of wrongdoing or blackmail, or something else.
I know for me, some of the emotional abuse that went into everything was to, for example, accuse me of not helping my great-grandma Connie enough when she was attacked, so now I deserve to be whacked and break my leg and be on an IV; or, if I "let" a man touch me when I was a kid, it was my fault, because it's always the kid's fault, and now I should be condemned and verbally mocked for being "bad". It was always about something wrong with me, even as a toddler, never about grown adults with salaries.
I'm really not surprised Katie Middleton doesn't have an official wedding ring of her own, when her "fans" have been stealing jewelry and other property from little kids. Most of what she takes is under-the-table.
pg. 102. E.H. says they stopped in a small town, Vladimir gave him a large picture book of Leningrad and he gave V his copy of The Hunt for Red October. Here, I suppose I wonder if it is suggested someone in Russia ever got evidence that could be used against the U.S. with regard to cruelty of me. I have not always been great under stress of torture, especially after decades of it, but when I was a kid, though I was sometimes "bratty", I don't see how it wasn't more than spunk or trying to retain my dignity in the middle of horrors, and who could witness what this country and Canada really did and not feel bad at all? I mean, how many kids are asked repeatedly, while being electrocuted in this "great" country, "Do you still want to live?" How long and how much did they have to blow my brains out with electrocution before getting me to say, from my bed, weak and curled up and sick, maybe not.
This country committed the most aggregious forms of war crimes against their own citizens and then they had Jews stealing from me and raping me on top of it.
UPDATED: 9/12/13 The ring was stolen first by my Dad, and then later police in Bonners took a necklace and watch. I remembered this morning and had forgot last night because they were made to look similar events, with the police taking something in front of me to cover for the fact my Dad stole a valuable ring from me and said he was giving it to police.
I am clarifying this because it is very important with timing and who was stealing. I could still sort of identify the ring and what it looked like as well.
The cop took a necklace from me and accused me of stealing it, in Bonners Ferry later, and then my wristwatch at the same time, but it was an appearance of cops taking jewelry from me that was not as significant or valuable after my Dad had stolen the ring from me, and not returned it.
He gave me something else and told me to hide it, and then when Bonners Ferry cops got it, I remembered I thought why did the cops put on this whole act about stealing from me after my Dad stole a ring from in Moses Lake with the excuse I had stolen it and he had to give it to cops? They were two separate events.
Oh yes, okay, so more of it was that my Dad did give it back to me secretly and then in the car, again with my Mom, she told me to give it to her and she was the last one who took it.
My Nana (great-grandma Louis) had very small fingers and her ring fit one of my fingers. My Mom was then spending a lot of time talking about ring sizes and sizing. I had thought at the time she was making it sound like the ring Nana gave me was a different size than it was.
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