1995.
Mike Nichols asked me out a few times. He overheard me complain that no one went to see foreign films and asked me to see a foreign or independent film at the KOIN theater in Portland, Oregon. I agreed to go but got lost or forgot. I think I forgot and stood him up. Mike was a tough read. Sometimes I was positive he was head over heels for me, because he would blush when he saw me, and then there were a few times I thought he didn't like me at all. I really liked Mike. He started working for Incredible Universe, I believe, sometime after I did, and I thought he stood out. He was always watching me, so I used to tease him. Then one day, I decided that I had missed the boat on going to Nashville with Sarah. She wasn't famous yet and I hadn't heard about her, but I wanted to try singing too and thought I would follow in her footsteps. I was connected to a name in Nashville, through the Brian Parker family: Jodi Harmon. So one day I was eating lunch with Mike and I said to him, as I was saying to everyone and anyone at the store: "I'm moving to Nashville; wanna come?" or something like that. Of course, everyone said no. Except Mike. He looked at me and without a blink, said calmly, "Sure."
I looked at him again. "Huh?" And he said yes. So we were going to Nashville. I didn't want to be a country singer, I wanted to do folk-rock, but I figured all music roads lead to Nashville.
Mike said yes and then my best friend Monica said yes. So it was the three of us. I was spearheading the trip, and planned to go over to Las Vegas for cheap room and board and then cut over to a fun Route 66 trip, up to Nashville. It was a true roadtrip. I met Mike's family at a dinner beforehand and they asked about our plans. I drove a little VW Dodge and we packed it full. I didn't know know Mike played classical guitar and was accomplished at it. He didn't tell me. He had asked me what I was reading and I told him I had glanced at something called The Rise and Fall of Nazi Germany or something. He took a copy with him.
I asked him why he was coming along. He said he'd been adopted and wanted to find his birth parents, and thought he'd go to Nashville and then over to Canada from there. There was something in Canada for him, maybe his parents? or he just wanted to go there? He didn't appreciate how his Dad, a lawyer in Portland or Lake Oswego, treated his mom (adoptive parents) and he thought his mom was a doormat, always taking him back and refusing to remarry. Other than that, I knew he had lots of brothers and sisters and he was close to a sister or two. He sold his car and we all quit our jobs. I had a crush on Mike and I could tell he did of me too. I wondered what was going to happen for us if we were all moving together. It crossed my mind that we were heading towards a serious relationship. Mike and I were opposites (introvert/extrovert) and yet we had some things in common too.
I don't remember which day the accident was. I don't remember if we were driving for only one or two days, but I think it was on the 2nd day that we had the accident. We stayed one night in a hotel and Mike had one Queen bed and Monica and I shared the other. He really kept to himself, I was a little surprised. The next day we were in Nevada and I had a sick feeling that something was wrong. Actually, before the trip began, I had kind of a sick feeling like we shouldn't go, but I couldn't back out last minute on everyone.
I played "I'm A Thousand Miles From Nowhere" many times on the stereo while we were in Nevada. The day was clear, sunny, and the road stretched for miles on end. I had to use the bathroom and there wasn't one in sight. We saw a trailer alongside the road and pulled over. It was a brothel. I didn't care. I had to use the bathroom. So the woman let us all in, telling us "the girls" were off work then and gave us a tour. We left with bumper stickers, buttons, and other souveneers of the brothel. We were back on the road and I really began to feel sick and very, very, wrong. It was a feeling of deep dread or something, and I felt fear. It was completely unrational and without explanation. But I said out loud that we hadn't prayed for our safety on the trip yet. I wanted to pray together, out loud. Mike didn't want to so Monica and I prayed. Mike seemed a little bothered. I still had the bad feeling, but felt I had done what I could do. I told everyone about this feeling. Then Monica thought maybe I should eat something.
First I asked Mike to slow down several times. I was feeling like something was wrong and then saw he was speeding. And he'd been driving a long time. I told him I wanted him to pull over, and I wanted to drive. He wouldn't pull over. I kept asking him to slow down and he would at first, and then got up to speed again. Which was 80 mph. I told everyone that no one was to go over 70 mph in the car. So I asked him again to let me drive. I said he seemed a little tired and he HAD been the one driving most of the way. I decided to get the fortune cookies because we were hungry and Monica wanted some too. We had a big bag of fortune cookies from Costco.
I told everyone I had to take my seatbelt off for a minute to reach them. Mike was driving, Monica was in the passenger's side, and I was sitting in the back behind Mike, with stuff piled up next to me on the right. I took my seatbelt off, got the cookies, and was giving Monica one when she said pointed to something out the window. Mike looked and we started to go off the road to the right. I thought the car would just go down to the sagebrush and we could get back up, but the next thing that happened, is Mike steered back and the car began to roll. I only remember the first roll and hearing the sound of breaking glass. But they say the car rolled further than the length of a football field.
When it stopped, the car was upright. Only Monica was conscious. I was fading in and out. I could hear Mike's labored breathing but I don't remember hearing Monica screaming for help and she says she did. All I could hear was Mike's breathing. It sounded heavy and raspy. A truckdriver was going through and the guy had a cellphone and called for an ambulance. It took the ambulance 45 minutes to reach the car. I remember feeling extremely cold when I was awake and getting colder. It was pitch black out. I could hear machines cutting the top of the car roof off. Monica somehow got out with a broken foot. Mike was either dead by the time the ambulance got there, or died in the ambulance, they say from head or stomach injuries. I had a severe head injury and broken neck and arm but no one knew at first. I remember being very frank and snappy while in shock. Monica was in the ambulance with me and couldn't stop talking and I wanted her to shut up. I made wisecracks with her and the ambulance guy. I couldn't get warm until they gave me a shot of something. Once at the hospital, the nurses were so anxious. I knew I might be dying. I asked a nurse if I was and she wouldn't say, she just handed me the phone to speak to my parents. I told everyone I loved them and was sorry for not being nicer all the time. The only thing that matters when you're at death's door, I know, is relationships. Nothing else matters. Not money, success, power, dreams...
I thought about my relationship with God too and asked for forgiveness for any sin I might have and told Him if He allowed me to live I would live differently, given a second chance. I told the nurse I felt tingling in my leg and when they pricked it I couldn't feel anything. They pricked it again later and I was losing movement and sensation. They were worried about blood pooling in my brain so they life-flighted me to the University of Utah hospital, where they found a broken neck. I remember that life-flight because I fully believe I had the choice to die right then and there. I was so drowsy. I have never felt more compelled to sleep in all my life but I believed that if I closed my eyes, it would be forever. I forced myself, with everything in me, to stay awake until I was "safe" before a doctor having an operation. The flight people kept me talking too, when I was almost giving in. Once at the hospital, I still wouldn't allow myself to sleep. It took a doctor hours before they saw me, or took me to surgery, and I stayed awake until they hooked me up to the anasthesia. I asked them to let me pray first and I prayed for blessings on the nurses and doctors and thanked God for allowing me to learn to have more compassion for others, now that I was experiencing this--I understood how it felt to be in pain. They told me I might lose my voice because they had to go through my neck. I started to cry and told them I had been on the way to Nashville to sing.
The surgery was successful. They fused my neck with titanium, donor bone, and screws and removed what they could of bone fragment, though some of it was in my spine. I had shattered 4th and 5th vertebrae and an unstable 3rd vertebrae. They weren't concerned with the blood pooling and my neurology tests were good. I wasn't able to move my arm at all and I had weakened sensation and movement on the left side of my body but I was okay. They didn't put me in traction but I had to wear a hard collar for 3 months. My voice was unaffected by the surgery. They did an excellent job and did tell me I would have to have reconstructive neck surgery in 10-20 years.
While in intensive care, I was tired. I felt safe enough to sleep. I was annoyed when the team of doctors came around at 5 a.m. and woke me each day but said nothing until the 4th day and asked them to come back. They were surprised and sympathetic. I knew something was wrong with Mike but didn't know what. When I mentioned him, people got emotional and then I cut them off, saying, "Don't tell me. Don't tell me. I don't want to know right now." I didn't feel strong enough to handle the news. I thought maybe he was without legs or missing an arm or something. I had heard him breathing so I was sure he was alive but maimed. The entire time in the hospital I didn't want to know.
One of the nurses, a male nurse, was already making plans for his date with the patient. He came in to visit all the time and gave me his phone number and wanted me to go with him to Lake Tahoe, on a houseboat. I remember thinking he was nuts because my head was swollen like an overripe tomato, split and stinky besides, and I had bruises and cuts all over. It took a lot of stitches to mend my scalp and I know the OTHER medical professional wasn't very happy he had to do it.
I received some beautiful bouquets while in the hospital, some from people I barely knew. I learned about feeling alone while I was recovering because some of my closest friends didn't call, write, or send flowers, and yet people who barely knew me or were just simple friends, wrote and expressed sympathies.
At home, I was very alone except for my family and Monica. I had to lie in bed almost all day--too weak to do anything else. Eventually I made steps upstairs, and then to take a walk down the driveway and back. I finally got up to walking 3 miles a day, with my hard collar on. I had nothing else to do so I walked to the town library and back. That was my event. But people my age, and old friends, were working or in college and there was no one to visit. Robin was going to fly out to see me in the hospital, he said, but his mother wanted him to stay in college classes, which was probably wise. I probably would have fallen in love with him if he'd come out to see me then and it's better that never happened. I talked about what happened with Monica over and over. We had serious talking therapy between the two of us. We couldn't get enough of repeating the same things and it was healing. I don't think we would have recovered emotionally if we hadn't had eachother to share things with.
Not until I was at home and feeling a little bit settled did I allow someone to tell me how Mike was. And when they told me, I cried for days, by myself. In a way, I was glad he wasn't a quadriplegic because I couldn't see him happy that way. I wrote a song for him on my guitar, once I had finger strength to play. I played it for Robin and Monica and they cried. I forget parts of it now but I have it recorded on a tape.
"____ come with the morning sun
After the night is through
Flowers bloom after the Winter,
And light up a desolate room...
Chorus: And my heart will sing
with the beauty that comes after rain.
And my heart will sing,
with the beauty our Lord Jesus gave.
Then there's a verse about how his smile
was "lifted to light up the night"
The last verse is:
I'll see you someday in a tender glade,
smiling and whistling this tune.
I hope you'll say you remember the day,
I sang this song for you...
the refrain is: "And my heart will sing/with the beauty that comes after rain/And my heart will sing/with the beauty our Lord Jesus gave."
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
How I Got Involved With The Catholic Church #3 (Reporting Thebault Taxes)
1993.
My Senior year of high school, I didn't have a scholarship for cross-country anymore so I thought about music. I could sing. I didn't have vocal training, but when I was 16 years old, someone Janet Bechtold knew (or said she knew Janet), who was from San Francisco, California, invited me to consider moving to California to be trained in classical voice at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. I discussed this with my parents and they said no.
When I was 18, I decided to audition for a musical scholarship. I heard about The University of Portland from Janet and George Bechtold, as this is where they both went to college, met, fell in love, and dropped out. I didn't know it was a private Catholic college, but I wouldn't have cared either way. I also looked at Gonzaga and asked for materials about their college, and they sent a VHS tape. I told everyone I was going to try auditioning at University of Portland. When I went, after I gave my name (there was a list), I was treated coldly. I noticed the other girls didn't get the same reception. I sat through some of the auditions and they weren't very good. I sang my songs and still felt puzzled by the cool reception. But I got a "scholarship". Of $1,000. It was pitiful and almost a mockery. I was embarressed by it, if nothing else. I didn't audition anywhere else after that.
I was singing the graduation song. "Friends Are Friends Forever" which was played by my good friend, and best guy friend, Geoff Rasmussen. It was on a keyboard though, and the pitches had to be set ahead of playing. It wasn't full range. If it was too high, I could hardly hit the notes. I told everyone about it. On graduation night, Geoff had set the keyboard to the right pitches and then we left it unattended. When we sang our song though, it started out wrong, on the higher notes. Geoff didn't know what had happened. Robin told me Erik Lund had told him to give me a compliment, and that he didn't know I could sing so high.
As the scholarships were being called out, $35,000 for ____, $25,000 for _______, $30,000 for ________ at (Pepperdine, Claremont, Penn State,...), my scholarship was called out last, in a kind of finale-- "...and Cameo Garrett, $1,000 for musical scholarship at University of Portland!" Which makes me laugh, but even then I thought it was sort of weird.
So I bagged college and decided to be a nanny. I told the Bechtolds, who I thought were like a second family to me, all about my plans and which agency I was going through and what I was looking for. I ended up with The Thebault's, who said they were Protestant but were Catholic, but who cared.
After working for them, under the table (as we all agreed), I felt guilty and decided I should pay my share of taxes. So that same year, I wrote a letter to the IRS, explaining that I wanted to pay my taxes but didn't want to turn in my employer for paying under the table, and I sent them a check for what I figured my half should come to. There was no way I was going to report them, and I knew my life would be over if I did, because I had a glimpse of their power and connections. It really bothered me about Maritza though, and after I heard about what happened to HER, after she was kicked out for being pregnant, I did decide to go ahead and give out their names. I called the IRS and told them who I had been working for and reported the whole scenario. I think I did this as early as 1994. If the IRS kept a record, it would be there. I think I only reported a part of what happened though, and then reported it again, when I also called about a different situation (what to do about the Rabbi Rose taxes) in 1997.
I honestly was not trying to cause people grief by calling. I did call about the Thebaults at first because I was upset about Maritza, but when I called about the Rose's, it wasn't to be mean or vindictive--it was the response of someone who had been living like a doormat for years and got tired of being treated like crap, cheated, and lied to. And first, before reporting the Rose's, I DID ask a couple tax consultants if there was a way around it, to somehow just pay my half as I did with the Thebault's (they told me no) or if I misunderstood tax law. With the Thebault's too, they were upfront about paying under the table. But with the Rabbi's wife, I was told to pay as self-employed but I never WAS self-employed and didn't receive any of the benefits of self employment but they wanted me to file that way to save THEM money, which I felt was like stealing from me, and purposefully trying to take advantage of me.
If anyone knew how quiet I was, and subservient, and how happy I was to do my best to serve, only to be treated so poorly, it would make sense as to why I finally got tired of it. I forgave all kinds of things. But after so many years, something had to give and I was done making allowances and taking the burden upon myself every single time.
A complete tangent: when this recent computer hacking occured, I wrote about how my Username was changed from "Alterations" to "x". I wondered what "x" meant. X for Christ? Probably didn't have any meaning attached but I typed it into a google search out of curiousity and found wikipedia's entry for "Malcolm X". I'd never read about him before. As I read, I saw that "x" was the symbol slaveowners gave slaves. Malcolm took it himself and used it symbolically. I still don't know the x was for, maybe nothing. But after writing about being treated like a slave, and knowing what I've been through, I would settle for an "x". I'm glad I read about Malcolm X; that was inspiring.
So, after graduation in 1993, I became a nanny, and a kind of slave, and while I was carefree and happy and thought I hadn't an enemy in the world, maybe I did and didn't even know it.
My Senior year of high school, I didn't have a scholarship for cross-country anymore so I thought about music. I could sing. I didn't have vocal training, but when I was 16 years old, someone Janet Bechtold knew (or said she knew Janet), who was from San Francisco, California, invited me to consider moving to California to be trained in classical voice at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. I discussed this with my parents and they said no.
When I was 18, I decided to audition for a musical scholarship. I heard about The University of Portland from Janet and George Bechtold, as this is where they both went to college, met, fell in love, and dropped out. I didn't know it was a private Catholic college, but I wouldn't have cared either way. I also looked at Gonzaga and asked for materials about their college, and they sent a VHS tape. I told everyone I was going to try auditioning at University of Portland. When I went, after I gave my name (there was a list), I was treated coldly. I noticed the other girls didn't get the same reception. I sat through some of the auditions and they weren't very good. I sang my songs and still felt puzzled by the cool reception. But I got a "scholarship". Of $1,000. It was pitiful and almost a mockery. I was embarressed by it, if nothing else. I didn't audition anywhere else after that.
I was singing the graduation song. "Friends Are Friends Forever" which was played by my good friend, and best guy friend, Geoff Rasmussen. It was on a keyboard though, and the pitches had to be set ahead of playing. It wasn't full range. If it was too high, I could hardly hit the notes. I told everyone about it. On graduation night, Geoff had set the keyboard to the right pitches and then we left it unattended. When we sang our song though, it started out wrong, on the higher notes. Geoff didn't know what had happened. Robin told me Erik Lund had told him to give me a compliment, and that he didn't know I could sing so high.
As the scholarships were being called out, $35,000 for ____, $25,000 for _______, $30,000 for ________ at (Pepperdine, Claremont, Penn State,...), my scholarship was called out last, in a kind of finale-- "...and Cameo Garrett, $1,000 for musical scholarship at University of Portland!" Which makes me laugh, but even then I thought it was sort of weird.
So I bagged college and decided to be a nanny. I told the Bechtolds, who I thought were like a second family to me, all about my plans and which agency I was going through and what I was looking for. I ended up with The Thebault's, who said they were Protestant but were Catholic, but who cared.
After working for them, under the table (as we all agreed), I felt guilty and decided I should pay my share of taxes. So that same year, I wrote a letter to the IRS, explaining that I wanted to pay my taxes but didn't want to turn in my employer for paying under the table, and I sent them a check for what I figured my half should come to. There was no way I was going to report them, and I knew my life would be over if I did, because I had a glimpse of their power and connections. It really bothered me about Maritza though, and after I heard about what happened to HER, after she was kicked out for being pregnant, I did decide to go ahead and give out their names. I called the IRS and told them who I had been working for and reported the whole scenario. I think I did this as early as 1994. If the IRS kept a record, it would be there. I think I only reported a part of what happened though, and then reported it again, when I also called about a different situation (what to do about the Rabbi Rose taxes) in 1997.
I honestly was not trying to cause people grief by calling. I did call about the Thebaults at first because I was upset about Maritza, but when I called about the Rose's, it wasn't to be mean or vindictive--it was the response of someone who had been living like a doormat for years and got tired of being treated like crap, cheated, and lied to. And first, before reporting the Rose's, I DID ask a couple tax consultants if there was a way around it, to somehow just pay my half as I did with the Thebault's (they told me no) or if I misunderstood tax law. With the Thebault's too, they were upfront about paying under the table. But with the Rabbi's wife, I was told to pay as self-employed but I never WAS self-employed and didn't receive any of the benefits of self employment but they wanted me to file that way to save THEM money, which I felt was like stealing from me, and purposefully trying to take advantage of me.
If anyone knew how quiet I was, and subservient, and how happy I was to do my best to serve, only to be treated so poorly, it would make sense as to why I finally got tired of it. I forgave all kinds of things. But after so many years, something had to give and I was done making allowances and taking the burden upon myself every single time.
A complete tangent: when this recent computer hacking occured, I wrote about how my Username was changed from "Alterations" to "x". I wondered what "x" meant. X for Christ? Probably didn't have any meaning attached but I typed it into a google search out of curiousity and found wikipedia's entry for "Malcolm X". I'd never read about him before. As I read, I saw that "x" was the symbol slaveowners gave slaves. Malcolm took it himself and used it symbolically. I still don't know the x was for, maybe nothing. But after writing about being treated like a slave, and knowing what I've been through, I would settle for an "x". I'm glad I read about Malcolm X; that was inspiring.
So, after graduation in 1993, I became a nanny, and a kind of slave, and while I was carefree and happy and thought I hadn't an enemy in the world, maybe I did and didn't even know it.
How I Got Involved With The Catholic Church #2 (Ran Off the Road)
While I have always thought my problems with the Catholic church began with my overt introduction to a monastery, in 2000, I have wondered recently if I was on their radar earlier. This seems implausible, but so has a lot of what has happened to me, and it seems there has been a very deep-rooted and long-standing hatred of me that has fomented for some time. I sometimes wonder if it didn't begin in 2000, but even back when I was in high school. There were some powerful Catholic individuals in the background who may have known about me, if they believed I was tormenting my "boyfriend", who was baptized Catholic, and trying to get him to "convert".
At that time in my life, I had nothing against the Catholic church, and my favorite heroine was Mother Theresa (whom I still admire). However, I was from such a conservative christian background, I believed literally that "believers" should not be "united" with "unbelievers, and there is a scripture verse often quoted to support this idea. My thought pattern was that if I couldn't have a boyfriend who wasn't a christian, because if strong feelings came of it and we wanted to marry, we couldn't marry because of disparate religious beliefs. Also, I knew it would tear me up to have kids and not have them raised the same, AND I believed I would be tormented if I loved a man and lived with him, believing he was going to Hell because he wasn't "saved".
So while in reality this guy, Robin Bechtold was my boyfriend, I told him we couldn't be and I guess, tormented him for a couple of years, telling him I couldn't be with him because he wasn't a "christian" (born again, saved). His best friend, Erik Lund, who is his best friend to this day, and was since early childhood, went to a private Jesuit school in Portland, and hated me. He hated me then and I'm quite sure he still does. Erik Lund's father was a prominent lawyer in Portland, Oregon but lived in Beaverton. Robin was baptized Catholic but not practicing. His mother was raised Catholic and I guess HER mother was very powerful within the Catholic church and rich, and cut Janet off when Janet married a non-Catholic. Her mother was from somewhere in California, maybe Sacramento? Robin's brother, Nathan, became a state trooper in Oregon and ended up going to Ireland a number of times and becoming extremely devout Catholic.
At any rate, I was not trying to break anyone's heart. I truly cared for Robin, and no one else, which is why I didn't kiss anyone else for so long. But I didn't want to torture myself and care for him more and have it going nowhere. So I told him no and he only wanted me more. He put me on a pedestal that was completely not me, and wrote what was actually some decent poetry about me. I'll never forget he described my eyes as being "cyan blue" which was I think a compliment with possibly a darker undertone. It was quite dramatic and overdrawn, and I didn't realize it then, but while I truly had my own heart broken by him and a particular course of action he took, he had felt decimated by me. Which caused his mother to snub me my senior year of high school, when she went up to all the girls in the Prom Queen party and complimented their dresses, in a line-up, passing by me without saying a word. Robin told me once he had to drink to get to sleep at night, so I don't know if that did it. I also know Erik Lund hated me and the few times I was around him, he was aloof and ignored me, even if there were only 3 of us in the room. He was particularly angry or upset when he found Robin reading a Bible one day and told him I had him whipped. One of the guys in high school called me "Mother Reverend Garrett" because I was known to be devout christian. When I cut things off with Robin, and tried to be friends, he always tried to win me back. But once, he chased me down in his car to do it, trying to cut me off. I know some people hated me for making him care at all. It would have been better if we'd never met, because even years later, Robin informed me that he believed a certain problem he had to this day was because of ME.
I typically wouldn't give any of this a passing thought, and didn't, for years. I DID love Robin, and still care about him, but I wonder, in hindsight now, if anyone wanted to get revenge on Robin's behalf. I remember spending days and nights in my room crying over Robin, because I wanted to be with him and felt I couldn't be, and I remember how I felt when he was with other women instead, but maybe no one else knew or it wasn't enough. Because it does seem odd, in thinking back, that ALL these bad things have happened to me, and almost ALL of the bad things have involved individuals from the Catholic church. If Erik Lund told a priest about me, because he was angry, and the Jesuits knew I was attempting to "convert" a baptized Catholic, would they go after me? I wouldn't think so, but maybe put me on a list of one to watch?...
One rainy night, after I had broken up with Robin when I was 17, after we had kissed a few times, and we'd known eachother over a year, I was visiting him as a friend. His parents were a little cool towards me but it was understandable. I was driving my parents stationwagon home from his house. I'd been on the road only 10 minutes and as I was approaching a hill, this car came out of nowhere, behind me and was approaching so fast with the brights on, and I knew it was going to hit me if I didn't move. I jerked my car to the right, where there was a small ditch, and the other car just took the whole road and sped off. It happened fast, but after I jerked the car to the right, I then tried to correct and overcorrected. Instead of hitting the brakes, being an inexperienced driver, I slammed on the gas and charged my car across the road. I remember seeing branches and leaves and not knowing what was going on. When I opened my door, I looked down and there was a cliff with trees growing from the bottom up. My car was sitting in the middle of branches and I realized my car was balancing on a TREE, or so I thought.
I gingerly moved to the other side of the car, and got out where I could see the road below. I wasn't harmed at all. Not even whiplash. But when I stood back and looked up I saw that the stationwagon was propped up against a tree, at a 45 degree angle, towards the sky, like it was a rocket. What had happened, was that instead of slamming the car into the telephone pole and trees there, my car had rode the guy wire of the telephone pole. The guy wire was beneath the belly of the wagon, propping the car up with the help of some trees.
I called for help and someone drove me to Robin's house. I told him what had happened and he wanted to see, so he drove me back out and started laughing. He was shocked. It was the craziest sight. Admittedly, according to the tow truck driver, who first thought the car had rolled, and ended up like that, and the driver was dead. He looked at me when I told him what had happened. I wasn't hurt at all.
I told my parents that the other car had tried running me off the road but they were more concerned about me and the state of their car when they knew I was okay. When they came out to have a look, they were shocked as well. It really was a kind of miracle. But while I dismissed what had happened as a funny story, more things happened, in rapid succession, and now, at this point, I'm wondering what has been going on.
I moved to Sherwood, Oregon where this happened, when I was 15 years old. It was 1990. I told everyone all about my best friend back in Moses Lake, Washington--Stephanie Maiers. I loved her and missed her. She and I became best friends at a private christian school we went to, from age 13-15. While I met Robin my first day of school, on the bus (he was on our route), in 1990, my sophomore year, Stephanie, soon thereafter, met a girl who had moved to Moses Lake, Washington with her family, from Canada, and they became best friends, and her name was Karen. Karen would figure into the Catholic picture years later, in the strangest way, and I am told her father or her husbands father, works for the FBI in New York, where she now resides.
At that time in my life, I had nothing against the Catholic church, and my favorite heroine was Mother Theresa (whom I still admire). However, I was from such a conservative christian background, I believed literally that "believers" should not be "united" with "unbelievers, and there is a scripture verse often quoted to support this idea. My thought pattern was that if I couldn't have a boyfriend who wasn't a christian, because if strong feelings came of it and we wanted to marry, we couldn't marry because of disparate religious beliefs. Also, I knew it would tear me up to have kids and not have them raised the same, AND I believed I would be tormented if I loved a man and lived with him, believing he was going to Hell because he wasn't "saved".
So while in reality this guy, Robin Bechtold was my boyfriend, I told him we couldn't be and I guess, tormented him for a couple of years, telling him I couldn't be with him because he wasn't a "christian" (born again, saved). His best friend, Erik Lund, who is his best friend to this day, and was since early childhood, went to a private Jesuit school in Portland, and hated me. He hated me then and I'm quite sure he still does. Erik Lund's father was a prominent lawyer in Portland, Oregon but lived in Beaverton. Robin was baptized Catholic but not practicing. His mother was raised Catholic and I guess HER mother was very powerful within the Catholic church and rich, and cut Janet off when Janet married a non-Catholic. Her mother was from somewhere in California, maybe Sacramento? Robin's brother, Nathan, became a state trooper in Oregon and ended up going to Ireland a number of times and becoming extremely devout Catholic.
At any rate, I was not trying to break anyone's heart. I truly cared for Robin, and no one else, which is why I didn't kiss anyone else for so long. But I didn't want to torture myself and care for him more and have it going nowhere. So I told him no and he only wanted me more. He put me on a pedestal that was completely not me, and wrote what was actually some decent poetry about me. I'll never forget he described my eyes as being "cyan blue" which was I think a compliment with possibly a darker undertone. It was quite dramatic and overdrawn, and I didn't realize it then, but while I truly had my own heart broken by him and a particular course of action he took, he had felt decimated by me. Which caused his mother to snub me my senior year of high school, when she went up to all the girls in the Prom Queen party and complimented their dresses, in a line-up, passing by me without saying a word. Robin told me once he had to drink to get to sleep at night, so I don't know if that did it. I also know Erik Lund hated me and the few times I was around him, he was aloof and ignored me, even if there were only 3 of us in the room. He was particularly angry or upset when he found Robin reading a Bible one day and told him I had him whipped. One of the guys in high school called me "Mother Reverend Garrett" because I was known to be devout christian. When I cut things off with Robin, and tried to be friends, he always tried to win me back. But once, he chased me down in his car to do it, trying to cut me off. I know some people hated me for making him care at all. It would have been better if we'd never met, because even years later, Robin informed me that he believed a certain problem he had to this day was because of ME.
I typically wouldn't give any of this a passing thought, and didn't, for years. I DID love Robin, and still care about him, but I wonder, in hindsight now, if anyone wanted to get revenge on Robin's behalf. I remember spending days and nights in my room crying over Robin, because I wanted to be with him and felt I couldn't be, and I remember how I felt when he was with other women instead, but maybe no one else knew or it wasn't enough. Because it does seem odd, in thinking back, that ALL these bad things have happened to me, and almost ALL of the bad things have involved individuals from the Catholic church. If Erik Lund told a priest about me, because he was angry, and the Jesuits knew I was attempting to "convert" a baptized Catholic, would they go after me? I wouldn't think so, but maybe put me on a list of one to watch?...
One rainy night, after I had broken up with Robin when I was 17, after we had kissed a few times, and we'd known eachother over a year, I was visiting him as a friend. His parents were a little cool towards me but it was understandable. I was driving my parents stationwagon home from his house. I'd been on the road only 10 minutes and as I was approaching a hill, this car came out of nowhere, behind me and was approaching so fast with the brights on, and I knew it was going to hit me if I didn't move. I jerked my car to the right, where there was a small ditch, and the other car just took the whole road and sped off. It happened fast, but after I jerked the car to the right, I then tried to correct and overcorrected. Instead of hitting the brakes, being an inexperienced driver, I slammed on the gas and charged my car across the road. I remember seeing branches and leaves and not knowing what was going on. When I opened my door, I looked down and there was a cliff with trees growing from the bottom up. My car was sitting in the middle of branches and I realized my car was balancing on a TREE, or so I thought.
I gingerly moved to the other side of the car, and got out where I could see the road below. I wasn't harmed at all. Not even whiplash. But when I stood back and looked up I saw that the stationwagon was propped up against a tree, at a 45 degree angle, towards the sky, like it was a rocket. What had happened, was that instead of slamming the car into the telephone pole and trees there, my car had rode the guy wire of the telephone pole. The guy wire was beneath the belly of the wagon, propping the car up with the help of some trees.
I called for help and someone drove me to Robin's house. I told him what had happened and he wanted to see, so he drove me back out and started laughing. He was shocked. It was the craziest sight. Admittedly, according to the tow truck driver, who first thought the car had rolled, and ended up like that, and the driver was dead. He looked at me when I told him what had happened. I wasn't hurt at all.
I told my parents that the other car had tried running me off the road but they were more concerned about me and the state of their car when they knew I was okay. When they came out to have a look, they were shocked as well. It really was a kind of miracle. But while I dismissed what had happened as a funny story, more things happened, in rapid succession, and now, at this point, I'm wondering what has been going on.
I moved to Sherwood, Oregon where this happened, when I was 15 years old. It was 1990. I told everyone all about my best friend back in Moses Lake, Washington--Stephanie Maiers. I loved her and missed her. She and I became best friends at a private christian school we went to, from age 13-15. While I met Robin my first day of school, on the bus (he was on our route), in 1990, my sophomore year, Stephanie, soon thereafter, met a girl who had moved to Moses Lake, Washington with her family, from Canada, and they became best friends, and her name was Karen. Karen would figure into the Catholic picture years later, in the strangest way, and I am told her father or her husbands father, works for the FBI in New York, where she now resides.
Stress
As to health, my stress levels haven't changed in the last 2 weeks as compared to the last several months. My health is better, but nothing happened to "relieve" me of the health issues. If anything, I am more stressed out NOW, because I was unable to defend myself in the recent legal action by the hospital/Catholic church. I know what the motive was and what's been going on, and I was completely disabled, only to regain my strength when it's too late? No, that's not how I work.
In times of stress, I am calm until it's over, and THEN I fall apart. I do not fall apart in the middle of stress or trauma or problems. I'm always strong. It's only after everything is completely over that I fall apart.
With the Catholic church litigation in Oregon, they knew I was going to put something into the public file they didn't want the public to know about. I had already let them know I was going to do it. And, they had been waiting for me to "fall apart" in over 2 years of litigation with me and I was going strong. It was only by tearing me apart physically, by attacking my health, that they weakened me from being able to continue and write. That, in combination with setting me up for a couple of things I've discovered were genuine set ups.
Through all the other crap they pulled--car vandalisms (on a monthly basis), property thefts and damages, and mail disturbances, in addition to setting me up with men who were working for them and were only introduced to me to cause distress, I was strong. They had to go after my actual physical body because I held up, constitution-wise. THEY even tried to tell Judges that I had no damages because I was having no problem whatever in litigating against them.
I know myself and I can go forever, in the middle of extreme stress, without problem, until my health is gone and I am physically too weak and unable to lift a finger, and then I am disabled, and cannot write or defend myself, which then would lead me to stress, but that stress would not suddenly disappear after someone WINS something against me. Winning something against me that I can't defend against causes MORE stress for me because it's more snow, and I know it's just going to be harder to untangle the mess and convince others I've been harassed and targeted for years.
Additionally, I still don't know what the outcome of the hospital thing is, because I've not been able to read my mail and something that a server served me with a week ago, hasn't been found. He said he left it at my door and it's not there. I think someone stopped the torture crap, knowing it would take me at least 2 weeks to recover and then my strength would be back and I would only be able to write when it was too late, but be able to write so much and so well, without medical explanation, that people would think I had been fine all along.
I have the bloodwork to prove MY theory. And the bruises, and my memory is just fine, thank you.
In times of stress, I am calm until it's over, and THEN I fall apart. I do not fall apart in the middle of stress or trauma or problems. I'm always strong. It's only after everything is completely over that I fall apart.
With the Catholic church litigation in Oregon, they knew I was going to put something into the public file they didn't want the public to know about. I had already let them know I was going to do it. And, they had been waiting for me to "fall apart" in over 2 years of litigation with me and I was going strong. It was only by tearing me apart physically, by attacking my health, that they weakened me from being able to continue and write. That, in combination with setting me up for a couple of things I've discovered were genuine set ups.
Through all the other crap they pulled--car vandalisms (on a monthly basis), property thefts and damages, and mail disturbances, in addition to setting me up with men who were working for them and were only introduced to me to cause distress, I was strong. They had to go after my actual physical body because I held up, constitution-wise. THEY even tried to tell Judges that I had no damages because I was having no problem whatever in litigating against them.
I know myself and I can go forever, in the middle of extreme stress, without problem, until my health is gone and I am physically too weak and unable to lift a finger, and then I am disabled, and cannot write or defend myself, which then would lead me to stress, but that stress would not suddenly disappear after someone WINS something against me. Winning something against me that I can't defend against causes MORE stress for me because it's more snow, and I know it's just going to be harder to untangle the mess and convince others I've been harassed and targeted for years.
Additionally, I still don't know what the outcome of the hospital thing is, because I've not been able to read my mail and something that a server served me with a week ago, hasn't been found. He said he left it at my door and it's not there. I think someone stopped the torture crap, knowing it would take me at least 2 weeks to recover and then my strength would be back and I would only be able to write when it was too late, but be able to write so much and so well, without medical explanation, that people would think I had been fine all along.
I have the bloodwork to prove MY theory. And the bruises, and my memory is just fine, thank you.
4 Pieces of Computer Equipment Fried During Three Periods of Hacking/Health Problems
I wanted to add to the computer hacking/health problem timeline...I listed 3 time periods previously where my (and my son's) health were affected. I just realized that aside from hacking, I also, each of these time periods, had computer or electronic equipment "fried".
1. The first time, it was my OfficeJet which was a printer/fax. It fried twice. I had to replace it twice with litigation with the Catholic church, after I was using the fax. They were brand new.
2. The second time, my fax/printer fried after the hospital filed a legal action to "ban" me, here in Wenatchee, after I moved here and after I found out they had at least some Catholic affiliation. It fried after I had only used the fax with 2 people: a state employee, and the law firm for the hospital. It was brand new; I'd had it for a year but hadn't used it. So when I first used the fax, I started getting fax calls to my phone line, just as had happened in Oregon when I had people jamming my phone line with fax calls. Once I traced the fax call made to me in Wenatchee, back to Seattle. This happened at my apartment in Wenatchee the same time my son quit speaking. Exact same time.
3. The third time, my computer fried, right after my dial-up connection icon disappeared from my desktop. I called my dial-up provider, Genext, and asked them if they'd removed it. They said no. As I was on the phone getting it back up, my computer started to burn and I could smell it. This happened the morning after an evening where I made some important discoveries about the Catholic church lawyers connections to certain FBI employees and a Portland Police Sgt. After this, I tried to get a new computer and kept having security/hacking problems before I was ever online.
I have the dates of when I had to purchase new equipment because of the problems, and emails about what/when it happened.
1. The first time, it was my OfficeJet which was a printer/fax. It fried twice. I had to replace it twice with litigation with the Catholic church, after I was using the fax. They were brand new.
2. The second time, my fax/printer fried after the hospital filed a legal action to "ban" me, here in Wenatchee, after I moved here and after I found out they had at least some Catholic affiliation. It fried after I had only used the fax with 2 people: a state employee, and the law firm for the hospital. It was brand new; I'd had it for a year but hadn't used it. So when I first used the fax, I started getting fax calls to my phone line, just as had happened in Oregon when I had people jamming my phone line with fax calls. Once I traced the fax call made to me in Wenatchee, back to Seattle. This happened at my apartment in Wenatchee the same time my son quit speaking. Exact same time.
3. The third time, my computer fried, right after my dial-up connection icon disappeared from my desktop. I called my dial-up provider, Genext, and asked them if they'd removed it. They said no. As I was on the phone getting it back up, my computer started to burn and I could smell it. This happened the morning after an evening where I made some important discoveries about the Catholic church lawyers connections to certain FBI employees and a Portland Police Sgt. After this, I tried to get a new computer and kept having security/hacking problems before I was ever online.
I have the dates of when I had to purchase new equipment because of the problems, and emails about what/when it happened.
How I Got Involved With The Catholic Church (I think)
I was not always an "activist". In fact, probably the farthest thing from it. I mean, I did a lot of volunteer work and was very active in church, but if someone did something wrong, I didn't tell anyone about it.
When I was little, I was very religious and prayed often to God. I began reading the Bible when I was 9 years old. In high school I tried to be friendly with everyone no matter who they were, what their "reputation" was, and how they appeared to be by first impressions. I was no angel, but I didn't drink, smoke, party, and I didn't do most of the things a lot of kids do. Part of it was just the way I was raised. I sincerely believed then that if someone drank alcohol, maybe they weren't a real "christian".
I ended up being Homecoming Queen and was proud of the fact that others had responded to me the way I tried to respond to them--with a desire to do something nice for others. I felt a little weird about the crown though, and when I got home I put it in a dresser drawer.
I had a lot of experience with kids, so I decided to be a nanny. I wanted to go to college, but thought maybe somewhere on the East Coast, and that I could take a look around in the meantime. I also considered being an elementary school teacher, and figured more experience with kids was a good thing. I had excellent references, mainly describing witnessed situations of control, patience, and pleasantry. I had no enemies, at least I thought I didn't, then.
I believe my enemies sprang up from involvement with the Catholic church in 1998, but because of things I've discovered since this last November, I question almost everything, and wonder if I unwittingly made enemies connected to the church even before that time, and didn't know it.
At some point, I WOULD like to write a book, taking my time to include funny anecdotes and stories of my experiences, but right now, I just need to get this out because I don't know when the next "Operation Knockout" will strike next. I am afraid I'm suddenly going to be blocked from writing again. So I will be writing like a maniac from now on, until the timeline is out and then I can go back. And, if someone in town wants to know who I really am and what all the fuss has been about, then here it is--my side of the story from my own mouth.
I'm a little sad I'm not going to be crafting clever stories at this point, but I hope there will be time for that, because I do like to make people (including myself) laugh. I'm sure there will be some laughs in my serious telling of my story anyway, as it is so "out-there" and beyond Murphy's Law I sometimes cannot but help to see the humor. Monks! Spies! At any rate, this is the truth, whether I take my time and include funny observations or try to be more to-the-point, I have always been interested in, the Truth.
1993--
So, I went to the East Coast, and worked as a nanny. First for the Thebault's and then a Jewish family (which is where I left off). The Jewish family wasn't so bad. I think I thought parts of it were worse than it really was, in hindsight. For example, they offered to put me on medical insurance but I was upset because they were going to take it out of my salary. I made a bigger deal about it than I should have which I can now see. In general, they were decent people. We were completely different--they were liberal, and yet we had many stimulating conversations. I loved their daughter like my own. It was a little hard on me though, because I was 18 years old and suddenly in a house almost all day with a non-speaking (yet) infant. I still think of her all the time. I went out dancing in New York with the biker nanny Rochelle, but of course I didn't drink. I didn't even know how to dance. I was somewhat backwards in those matters. I dated a lot but didn't get serious with anyone. From the time of high school until I was 24 years old, I kissed only one person: Robin Bechtold. I loved learning about the Jewish culture from my next family. I loved everything about it, especially the food and Passover tradition. Not the food AT the Passover, though, mind you--I can do without geffilte fish. When I left the Jewish family to go back to the West Coast, I missed 2 things: that little girl, and bagels from the Jewish deli, done the "right way", in oil, with the crunchy, shiny, exterior and the doughy middle.
I decided to go back to the West Coast because it felt more appropriate for me then. I really wasn't much of a "night person" at that time in my life, though that's changed. I decided the West Coast was for "day people" and the East Coast was for "night people". Since more of my activities were athletic and outdoorsy, I chose West. I also realized that I was not up to speed on the East Coast. I was slower-moving than most Easterners were used to. When you go East, you understand what the concept of "fast food" is all about. They are fast. One thing I really liked about the East Coast was the driving. People knew how to drive. They zipped in and out but everyone was okay with it. I saw the same thing on a California freeway once, and I prefer driving in the fast lane. It's more fun and you use your brain more. Driving slow puts me to sleep.
1994--
I came back to the West Coast and wanted to go to college but couldn't afford to Full-time, I thought. My family was against loans and made too much money for financial assistance. I didn't know much about scholarships, though I almost had one for cross-country running with Lewis & Clark College until I broke my knee while in my last season of my high school senior year. I was an avid long-distance runner and did well at track too, but it was down the drain after that. I took Advanced Placement classes in high school and college prep, but didn't know the first thing about applications, especially for financial aid, and had no one to guide me through the process. So I decided to take up an apartment with my best friend from high school, close to Portland, Oregon, took a couple of classes, and worked at a local gym. Our first apartment was broken into but nothing was taken, or maybe a stereo was taken? The police officer on the scene said, "Wow...They ransacked your house?! Did they do THIS?" I had to admit it was already like that before, to the horror of my best friend who was a total neat freak and didn't want to be included in the blame for my mess.
The Gym: I ended up on many dates because of the gym exposure. Lots of men. I remember the name of one: Chris Block. I think that was the last name. Too many to remember. One week I went on a date with a different guy each night. I was exhausted. I remember one date with a guy from the gym, hiking. Was it a good time to get know eachother? Not unless you count being slapped in the face with tree branches as he's booking it up the hill as if he's racing in a Triathalon. Afterwards, we swam in the river. Still, no conversation. At the same time, I was steadily "dating" Brian Parker but I didn't call it dating. I didn't really have a grasp on the concept of what dating was about. I thought it was just to get to know people, no strings attached. Brian was just a friend. I went on about 40 dates with him and never even let him hold my hand. Finally he wrote me a note asking if we could be anything more. I thought about it and realized I didn't care about him "that" way.
Then I took a job, still going to community college (which I HATED as the classes were easier than they were in jr. high and the teachers used the podium for their politics) at The Incredible Universe. It was a large electronics store in Wilsonville, Oregon. My family lived in Sherwood, nearby. I worked in the music department. It was completely depressing to organize tapes and CDs all day, but I kept my spirits up and chatted along with Shiloh, Chuck, and Sarah. Sarah and I shared an interest in music and singing and when she found out I sang too, she invited me to sing onstage sometime with her and asked me to be her personal assistant when she went to Nashville with her husband. I didn't even go to see Sarah but Chuck thought she was terrific. I wasn't ready to go to Nashville so I declined the assistant job. She went on to be Sarah Evans, country singer celebrity. What I can say about her, is that she's a good person, and was fun to work with and I'm glad she did it. She and I shared the same ideas about church and our family's oppositions to non-religious music. I still think about Chuck. I had a huge crush on him. He had impeccable taste in music and was only one class away from a degree from Lewis & Clark but it was a speech class and he didn't want to do any public speaking. I used to encourage him to finish but now, thinking back, I think it's great. While I worked in electronics, at the music store, it was connected to a general electronics department, and that's where Mike Nichols worked.
When I was little, I was very religious and prayed often to God. I began reading the Bible when I was 9 years old. In high school I tried to be friendly with everyone no matter who they were, what their "reputation" was, and how they appeared to be by first impressions. I was no angel, but I didn't drink, smoke, party, and I didn't do most of the things a lot of kids do. Part of it was just the way I was raised. I sincerely believed then that if someone drank alcohol, maybe they weren't a real "christian".
I ended up being Homecoming Queen and was proud of the fact that others had responded to me the way I tried to respond to them--with a desire to do something nice for others. I felt a little weird about the crown though, and when I got home I put it in a dresser drawer.
I had a lot of experience with kids, so I decided to be a nanny. I wanted to go to college, but thought maybe somewhere on the East Coast, and that I could take a look around in the meantime. I also considered being an elementary school teacher, and figured more experience with kids was a good thing. I had excellent references, mainly describing witnessed situations of control, patience, and pleasantry. I had no enemies, at least I thought I didn't, then.
I believe my enemies sprang up from involvement with the Catholic church in 1998, but because of things I've discovered since this last November, I question almost everything, and wonder if I unwittingly made enemies connected to the church even before that time, and didn't know it.
At some point, I WOULD like to write a book, taking my time to include funny anecdotes and stories of my experiences, but right now, I just need to get this out because I don't know when the next "Operation Knockout" will strike next. I am afraid I'm suddenly going to be blocked from writing again. So I will be writing like a maniac from now on, until the timeline is out and then I can go back. And, if someone in town wants to know who I really am and what all the fuss has been about, then here it is--my side of the story from my own mouth.
I'm a little sad I'm not going to be crafting clever stories at this point, but I hope there will be time for that, because I do like to make people (including myself) laugh. I'm sure there will be some laughs in my serious telling of my story anyway, as it is so "out-there" and beyond Murphy's Law I sometimes cannot but help to see the humor. Monks! Spies! At any rate, this is the truth, whether I take my time and include funny observations or try to be more to-the-point, I have always been interested in, the Truth.
1993--
So, I went to the East Coast, and worked as a nanny. First for the Thebault's and then a Jewish family (which is where I left off). The Jewish family wasn't so bad. I think I thought parts of it were worse than it really was, in hindsight. For example, they offered to put me on medical insurance but I was upset because they were going to take it out of my salary. I made a bigger deal about it than I should have which I can now see. In general, they were decent people. We were completely different--they were liberal, and yet we had many stimulating conversations. I loved their daughter like my own. It was a little hard on me though, because I was 18 years old and suddenly in a house almost all day with a non-speaking (yet) infant. I still think of her all the time. I went out dancing in New York with the biker nanny Rochelle, but of course I didn't drink. I didn't even know how to dance. I was somewhat backwards in those matters. I dated a lot but didn't get serious with anyone. From the time of high school until I was 24 years old, I kissed only one person: Robin Bechtold. I loved learning about the Jewish culture from my next family. I loved everything about it, especially the food and Passover tradition. Not the food AT the Passover, though, mind you--I can do without geffilte fish. When I left the Jewish family to go back to the West Coast, I missed 2 things: that little girl, and bagels from the Jewish deli, done the "right way", in oil, with the crunchy, shiny, exterior and the doughy middle.
I decided to go back to the West Coast because it felt more appropriate for me then. I really wasn't much of a "night person" at that time in my life, though that's changed. I decided the West Coast was for "day people" and the East Coast was for "night people". Since more of my activities were athletic and outdoorsy, I chose West. I also realized that I was not up to speed on the East Coast. I was slower-moving than most Easterners were used to. When you go East, you understand what the concept of "fast food" is all about. They are fast. One thing I really liked about the East Coast was the driving. People knew how to drive. They zipped in and out but everyone was okay with it. I saw the same thing on a California freeway once, and I prefer driving in the fast lane. It's more fun and you use your brain more. Driving slow puts me to sleep.
1994--
I came back to the West Coast and wanted to go to college but couldn't afford to Full-time, I thought. My family was against loans and made too much money for financial assistance. I didn't know much about scholarships, though I almost had one for cross-country running with Lewis & Clark College until I broke my knee while in my last season of my high school senior year. I was an avid long-distance runner and did well at track too, but it was down the drain after that. I took Advanced Placement classes in high school and college prep, but didn't know the first thing about applications, especially for financial aid, and had no one to guide me through the process. So I decided to take up an apartment with my best friend from high school, close to Portland, Oregon, took a couple of classes, and worked at a local gym. Our first apartment was broken into but nothing was taken, or maybe a stereo was taken? The police officer on the scene said, "Wow...They ransacked your house?! Did they do THIS?" I had to admit it was already like that before, to the horror of my best friend who was a total neat freak and didn't want to be included in the blame for my mess.
The Gym: I ended up on many dates because of the gym exposure. Lots of men. I remember the name of one: Chris Block. I think that was the last name. Too many to remember. One week I went on a date with a different guy each night. I was exhausted. I remember one date with a guy from the gym, hiking. Was it a good time to get know eachother? Not unless you count being slapped in the face with tree branches as he's booking it up the hill as if he's racing in a Triathalon. Afterwards, we swam in the river. Still, no conversation. At the same time, I was steadily "dating" Brian Parker but I didn't call it dating. I didn't really have a grasp on the concept of what dating was about. I thought it was just to get to know people, no strings attached. Brian was just a friend. I went on about 40 dates with him and never even let him hold my hand. Finally he wrote me a note asking if we could be anything more. I thought about it and realized I didn't care about him "that" way.
Then I took a job, still going to community college (which I HATED as the classes were easier than they were in jr. high and the teachers used the podium for their politics) at The Incredible Universe. It was a large electronics store in Wilsonville, Oregon. My family lived in Sherwood, nearby. I worked in the music department. It was completely depressing to organize tapes and CDs all day, but I kept my spirits up and chatted along with Shiloh, Chuck, and Sarah. Sarah and I shared an interest in music and singing and when she found out I sang too, she invited me to sing onstage sometime with her and asked me to be her personal assistant when she went to Nashville with her husband. I didn't even go to see Sarah but Chuck thought she was terrific. I wasn't ready to go to Nashville so I declined the assistant job. She went on to be Sarah Evans, country singer celebrity. What I can say about her, is that she's a good person, and was fun to work with and I'm glad she did it. She and I shared the same ideas about church and our family's oppositions to non-religious music. I still think about Chuck. I had a huge crush on him. He had impeccable taste in music and was only one class away from a degree from Lewis & Clark but it was a speech class and he didn't want to do any public speaking. I used to encourage him to finish but now, thinking back, I think it's great. While I worked in electronics, at the music store, it was connected to a general electronics department, and that's where Mike Nichols worked.
Timeline and Periods Of Suspected Radiation
Last night I started getting the odd backache and joint pain again, and my son had muscle spasms which woke him. At one point, I was on the computer, and as I felt bad pain, my son began crying in the other room. He would NOT be consoled. He was writhing and kept pointing outside toward the road. Which doesn't mean anything, but I have noticed that when I've had the worst pain, and my son has, there has been constant traffic and some of the same cars/trucks/SUVs going back and forth. When the toys have gone off, though, I noticed there are no cars immediately passing, but maybe within 5 minutes a row of cars will go by. I know that last night we started having problems, but by late night, we were sleeping soundly until about 7:30 a.m. this morning when both my son and I woke with pain. My son is the type to wake with a smile on his face. He kept touching his back. He didn't want his bottle or anything else. I've been paying better attention to traffic and "incidents" and it seems that since the MAJOR pain (which ended 2 Thursdays ago) ended, it has been sporadic, but usually starts up after 7 p.m. until late night. One or two nights it lasted all night and we couldn't sleep at all, but the last 2 days, it's been from about 7 p.m.-12:00 a.m. and then starts up again for a half hour or less at about 7 p.m. Then it went away and my son and I felt nothing until about Lunchtime, when at least I started feeling pain again. Which makes me think that whoever is involved goes to a job.
I have thought about when I've had the periods (months or so) of extreme health problems and bruising, etc, and it's always been in the summer or between Thanksgiving-Christmas break, which makes me think students may have been involved. This last time, I was feeling bad toward the end of October, but noticeably dehabilitated from mid-November 2007 through the first week of January 2008.
I can think of at least 3 specific timeframes when I or my son had problems like this (not to say there weren't other periods of specific medical problems, but this is to include the strange, unexplained periods of fatigue and illness):
1. Late Summer 2004-Spring of 2005 which forced me to drop out of litigation with the Catholic church, even though I petitioned for a medical continuance because of my health problems. I was having strange computer problems then but thought it was my faulty computer...sort of...some things were too weird and several techs said so, but I dismissed it. All I knew is that there were very serious leaks as to what was going on with my life and litigation. The Catholic church lawyers knew everything, whether I said something in private, over the phone, or emailed, it was like they had a bug on everything I said or did. And, I found out, one of the "friends" I had thought was sincere, was working for them and getting info from me all along.
2. (made some corrections here) Spring 2006 which is when my son, who was almost one year old and had a 30+ word vocabulary and was making new 3-word sentences, quit speaking. It happened right after an ER trip for both of because of severe abdominal pain and vomiting; I thought we had food poisoning, it was not like any "flu" I'd ever had. His speech stopped almost immediately a little while after that, right after I found out the same party had made about 3 complaints to CPS (which CPS decided were unfounded and, after the 4th complaint, possibly "political" in nature) which was right when I discovered the hospital was a private Catholic hospital merger, and that one of the doctors there who had written weird medical charts about me was also Catholic...I told a friend about this and right after that, my son quit talking. Also, right after I told people I found out about the Catholic connections, the hospital suddenly filed a legal action against me, to "ban" me from the hospital. I had started putting 2 and 2 together about why my charts were being "rewritten" to include outlandish allegations. The Catholic church knew I was moving to Wenatchee months before I moved and they had a motive for causing problems for me over here. More on that soon. ...Now that I think about it, I remember it was in December 2006 that I was assaulted by this guy who lived in my apartment, and when I told my "friend" (who I later found out worked for the Catholic church lawyers) about it, she went to extremes to try to persuade me not to tell anyone. It was RIGHT after I reported this guy, that employees from this part-Catholic hospital started making CPS complaints, but I didn't know until a few months later, after I took my son in when we were vomiting, and then CPS came to my house and when I got the CPS records, it showed the same party had made 3 complaints in 3 months time, beginning in December. The whole thing with the guy was fishy. He said he only spoke Spanish but he also spoke French one time to me, and he got off, and just this last Christmas, he was witnessed stalking me at Wal-mart, I'm sure he thought police would blow me off again. If he was connected in any way to the church lawyers or that "friend" of mine, I seriously wonder if I and my son were not just getting "radiation" from people trying to monitor what I write on the computer, but poisoned as well. This guy worked at a fruit packing plant and then took off to go, he said, "fishing in Alaska". I know the Catholic church lawyers actually paid people in the past, to do some of their dirty work. The other thing that I felt uncomfortable with, was that when I went to ER with my son, it was right after this that he quit talking. At the ER, I was seen by a female doctor and they separated me from my son, telling me he'd be seen by her in another room. I asked for my son's medical records after that, and the lawyers withheld them from me forever, and then gave me everything except the record for THIS visit. I wondered why and asked for it again. Then I saw that when my son was separated from me, he'd been seen by Dr. Butler, a doctor I'd quit going to after my son became extremely ill after his 2 mo. vaccinations, and this was being dismissed, and after I found out Butler was writing things into my chart which were false and bizarre. In addition to covering up an extremely traumatic and severe childbirth. So I have some concerns. I've looked up autism and my son doesn't have it. He quit speaking because something affected his brain, but it wasn't "meant to be" and wasn't genetic. Right before that, before I knew this "friend" had been working for the Catholic lawyers for years, for months, every email I sent her was about my son, and how proud I was of him and how the doctors said he was "highly intelligent" and how he was speaking very early, and gifted, etc. I also told her I was going to raise him to understand everything I had been through with the Catholic church and that he was going to be the "inheritor" of the wisdom I'd gained through this; I told her I thought he would do something great one day. I also told her that when my son was older, he would learn everything that had been done to me, and having lived with me, would know it was all politics and he would defend me. I am no less proud of my son, now not speaking and slowed down in his development, than I was before. But he is certaintly less of a threat, and perhaps someone feels I am sufficiently (or not) "punished". In the last several years, the hatred against me has been so great I continue to be shocked at the discoveries I've made as to what was planned ahead of time, to harm me. If they would do what they did to me, they wouldn't blink at hurting my son. Just to spite me.
As for my son, after this I heard a word or two until nothing but gibberish. When we moved to a new location, out in an orchard, for a couple of days he was talking again, and he made a 3 word sentence while taking a bath. I asked him if he wanted to get out or stay in the tub, and he said, "in the tub". He used to be able to repeat everything I said. After that, he and I experienced a very severe instance of twitching and I felt, seizure-like problems, while back at my old apartment (we were inbetween houses and while moving into the new place, slept at night at the old apartment which is when I remember we became severely ill). I remember telling this "friend" about my son's sudden disappearance of speech, and she was so weird about it and couldn't wait to get off the phone. I had no strange theories then, I was just confused. It was out of nowhere and I told her I didn't know why. Then I didn't make a big deal about it until a year passed.
3. November 2007-January 2008 which is when I had the same problems as I had in Oregon and recognized this just recently, that it was the same. Then, too, I was having computer problems, but I wasn't able to detect how bad they were until this time because my original computer (the one I had since 1997) fried and when I tried new computers is when I noticed how severely I was getting hacked. That's when I noticed even 2 different desktops were accessed without my ever going online, and got the explanation from the computer tech. I lined up what the tech said, with what was happening to my computers, and then followed the trail to realize our health problems occured at the same time, and looked up radiation, and it fit. If my original computer had never gone, I wouldn't have ever narrowed it down.
Suffice it to say, the "secret weapon", I believe, to the Catholic church's attack on me, was computer hacking and radiation. They tried psychological tactics as well, but the only thing that really brought me down was completely destroying my health and ability to function at all. And then, they did this to my son, and I believe those involved knew what they were doing.
Don't think I'm crazy until you hear what was really going on before all this stuff started to happen. I can point to their motives and can back myself up with proof. Maybe they thought that they could also destroy or impair my memory. They certaintly ruined one little boy's brain, and caused even temporary problems for me, but there is a reason I'm still here and I think God must be sick over what has happened. I have already prayed that someone will come forward, who has information, and that God will have mercy on those who show mercy.
I have thought about when I've had the periods (months or so) of extreme health problems and bruising, etc, and it's always been in the summer or between Thanksgiving-Christmas break, which makes me think students may have been involved. This last time, I was feeling bad toward the end of October, but noticeably dehabilitated from mid-November 2007 through the first week of January 2008.
I can think of at least 3 specific timeframes when I or my son had problems like this (not to say there weren't other periods of specific medical problems, but this is to include the strange, unexplained periods of fatigue and illness):
1. Late Summer 2004-Spring of 2005 which forced me to drop out of litigation with the Catholic church, even though I petitioned for a medical continuance because of my health problems. I was having strange computer problems then but thought it was my faulty computer...sort of...some things were too weird and several techs said so, but I dismissed it. All I knew is that there were very serious leaks as to what was going on with my life and litigation. The Catholic church lawyers knew everything, whether I said something in private, over the phone, or emailed, it was like they had a bug on everything I said or did. And, I found out, one of the "friends" I had thought was sincere, was working for them and getting info from me all along.
2. (made some corrections here) Spring 2006 which is when my son, who was almost one year old and had a 30+ word vocabulary and was making new 3-word sentences, quit speaking. It happened right after an ER trip for both of because of severe abdominal pain and vomiting; I thought we had food poisoning, it was not like any "flu" I'd ever had. His speech stopped almost immediately a little while after that, right after I found out the same party had made about 3 complaints to CPS (which CPS decided were unfounded and, after the 4th complaint, possibly "political" in nature) which was right when I discovered the hospital was a private Catholic hospital merger, and that one of the doctors there who had written weird medical charts about me was also Catholic...I told a friend about this and right after that, my son quit talking. Also, right after I told people I found out about the Catholic connections, the hospital suddenly filed a legal action against me, to "ban" me from the hospital. I had started putting 2 and 2 together about why my charts were being "rewritten" to include outlandish allegations. The Catholic church knew I was moving to Wenatchee months before I moved and they had a motive for causing problems for me over here. More on that soon. ...Now that I think about it, I remember it was in December 2006 that I was assaulted by this guy who lived in my apartment, and when I told my "friend" (who I later found out worked for the Catholic church lawyers) about it, she went to extremes to try to persuade me not to tell anyone. It was RIGHT after I reported this guy, that employees from this part-Catholic hospital started making CPS complaints, but I didn't know until a few months later, after I took my son in when we were vomiting, and then CPS came to my house and when I got the CPS records, it showed the same party had made 3 complaints in 3 months time, beginning in December. The whole thing with the guy was fishy. He said he only spoke Spanish but he also spoke French one time to me, and he got off, and just this last Christmas, he was witnessed stalking me at Wal-mart, I'm sure he thought police would blow me off again. If he was connected in any way to the church lawyers or that "friend" of mine, I seriously wonder if I and my son were not just getting "radiation" from people trying to monitor what I write on the computer, but poisoned as well. This guy worked at a fruit packing plant and then took off to go, he said, "fishing in Alaska". I know the Catholic church lawyers actually paid people in the past, to do some of their dirty work. The other thing that I felt uncomfortable with, was that when I went to ER with my son, it was right after this that he quit talking. At the ER, I was seen by a female doctor and they separated me from my son, telling me he'd be seen by her in another room. I asked for my son's medical records after that, and the lawyers withheld them from me forever, and then gave me everything except the record for THIS visit. I wondered why and asked for it again. Then I saw that when my son was separated from me, he'd been seen by Dr. Butler, a doctor I'd quit going to after my son became extremely ill after his 2 mo. vaccinations, and this was being dismissed, and after I found out Butler was writing things into my chart which were false and bizarre. In addition to covering up an extremely traumatic and severe childbirth. So I have some concerns. I've looked up autism and my son doesn't have it. He quit speaking because something affected his brain, but it wasn't "meant to be" and wasn't genetic. Right before that, before I knew this "friend" had been working for the Catholic lawyers for years, for months, every email I sent her was about my son, and how proud I was of him and how the doctors said he was "highly intelligent" and how he was speaking very early, and gifted, etc. I also told her I was going to raise him to understand everything I had been through with the Catholic church and that he was going to be the "inheritor" of the wisdom I'd gained through this; I told her I thought he would do something great one day. I also told her that when my son was older, he would learn everything that had been done to me, and having lived with me, would know it was all politics and he would defend me. I am no less proud of my son, now not speaking and slowed down in his development, than I was before. But he is certaintly less of a threat, and perhaps someone feels I am sufficiently (or not) "punished". In the last several years, the hatred against me has been so great I continue to be shocked at the discoveries I've made as to what was planned ahead of time, to harm me. If they would do what they did to me, they wouldn't blink at hurting my son. Just to spite me.
As for my son, after this I heard a word or two until nothing but gibberish. When we moved to a new location, out in an orchard, for a couple of days he was talking again, and he made a 3 word sentence while taking a bath. I asked him if he wanted to get out or stay in the tub, and he said, "in the tub". He used to be able to repeat everything I said. After that, he and I experienced a very severe instance of twitching and I felt, seizure-like problems, while back at my old apartment (we were inbetween houses and while moving into the new place, slept at night at the old apartment which is when I remember we became severely ill). I remember telling this "friend" about my son's sudden disappearance of speech, and she was so weird about it and couldn't wait to get off the phone. I had no strange theories then, I was just confused. It was out of nowhere and I told her I didn't know why. Then I didn't make a big deal about it until a year passed.
3. November 2007-January 2008 which is when I had the same problems as I had in Oregon and recognized this just recently, that it was the same. Then, too, I was having computer problems, but I wasn't able to detect how bad they were until this time because my original computer (the one I had since 1997) fried and when I tried new computers is when I noticed how severely I was getting hacked. That's when I noticed even 2 different desktops were accessed without my ever going online, and got the explanation from the computer tech. I lined up what the tech said, with what was happening to my computers, and then followed the trail to realize our health problems occured at the same time, and looked up radiation, and it fit. If my original computer had never gone, I wouldn't have ever narrowed it down.
Suffice it to say, the "secret weapon", I believe, to the Catholic church's attack on me, was computer hacking and radiation. They tried psychological tactics as well, but the only thing that really brought me down was completely destroying my health and ability to function at all. And then, they did this to my son, and I believe those involved knew what they were doing.
Don't think I'm crazy until you hear what was really going on before all this stuff started to happen. I can point to their motives and can back myself up with proof. Maybe they thought that they could also destroy or impair my memory. They certaintly ruined one little boy's brain, and caused even temporary problems for me, but there is a reason I'm still here and I think God must be sick over what has happened. I have already prayed that someone will come forward, who has information, and that God will have mercy on those who show mercy.
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