I am writing this document in an attempt to record events which I believe to be of significant importance to all people in our supposedly free country. It is my belief that I may not live to tell the story and that if I did try to bring it to the attention of the public that either no one would believe me or that I would be promptly silenced. It is true, fact can be stranger than fiction.
Although the story begins, I now realize, many years ago, it all came to a head on September 12th 2002. I was working on an outbuilding on my property when it suddenly collapsed trapping me beneath it and causing a compound fracture of my left femur. I remember thinking about the date, one year after the World Trade Center collapse. How it must have felt to be beneath the rubble not knowing if you would ever be rescued. It made me relate to those poor souls plights more than I ever could have before.
It is from this moment that my life, as they say, "descended into nightmare".
I was trapped under the remains of the shed for at least 3 hrs. I wasn't wearing a watch. It could have been longer. If my wife hadn't come home from work early I would probably be dead and I suppose that would have made some people very happy. When she arrived she found me and called 911. The squad recommended that I be Lifeflighted to a hospital in our Capital City but my wife thought that a facility in a neighboring state would be closer and more convenient for her visitation. Thus, I was sent to the trauma center.
As soon as the helicopter crew had left I was greeted by a cocky intern who started the admissions procedure. He was combative and hostile from beginnings. I was on Medicaid and he attacked me about it verbally saying that I thought I was to good to work, among other things. Now get this, I was completely helpless, at his mercy, unable to defend myself as he continued his verbal abuse. My femur was broken in two places and the bone was protruding from my flesh. I asked him what the hell his problem was as America is the only country in the free world which does not have National Health Care. He really hated this... and I said we needed socialized medicine but it would never happen because in America the rich don't pay taxes as they do in Britain and that although people here complain about high taxes that in fact ours are much lower than other countries. The problem being that the entire burden is strapped on the middle class, not the extremely wealthy. He said that he was wealthy and had paid so many thousands of dollars in taxes the year before. I told him that he wasn't rich, that he was just upper middle class and probably owed more money on his house and fancy car than he really could afford and was just in debt up to his ears. Well, he was livid. The truth hurts. I told him he was being an asshole and asked him his name as I wasn't wearing my glasses and couldn't see his name tag. He said he didn't care if I reported him because I was bombed on morphine and no one would believe me anyway and that he couldn't see any reason to admit me because my life was worthless anyway. He wanted to know if I was an organ donor. He said he didn't know if I was worth saving and that if I died no one would be suspicious. I expected to end up in the morgue with a tag on my toe or dissected for parts. I was angry and frightened in a way I had never been before. My wife had not came with me as she had to pick up our son from school before she drove to see me. I was alone.
Unfortunately, this was the same man who would set my leg.
At this point other staff started to arrive. They put me on a table and started manipulating my leg and trying to shove a tube down my nose. I told them that I wasn't just a cadaver and to wait a damned minute because I was wide awake and in considerable pain. He said that I'd already been given enough morphine to kill the pain. I told him he was crazy and told them to stop trying to do surgery on me while I was still lucid. The other people there, a nurse and a preacher who had introduced himself, held me down while he attempted to set my leg. I was in agony. I said, "you mean to tell me that in this day and age that they still do this like they did during the Civil War"? He asked me what it felt like and I told him that it felt like jagged bones rubbing together on raw flesh. I had screamed like a banshee. At about this point another man arrived, someone with experience in trauma. He told them it was perfectly alright to give me more morphine in this situation and that there was no way that they should be attempting this procedure while I was this distraught and in so much pain. Then they did give me more pain killers and some Valium to relax me. At this point things get hazy...thank God.
Soon after this the staff physician arrived. He was somewhat more pleasant. They did some other tests including a cat scan. Afterward, as this doctor was pushing my stretcher up to my room he whispered," There are people here that would do you great harm...just stay calm and we'll try to get you through this."
Upon reaching my room the intern was in charge once again. I not sure how much time had passed but they brought me my supper tray. I told then that I was in too much pain to eat and that I needed something for the pain. The intern told them to give me 800 mgs of Motrin.
Now this brings us to the other part of the story. When he said 800 mgs of Motrin, bells went off in my head. This is where it gets really complicated. A couple of years before this I had been pulled over, supposedly because my window tint was too dark. While the woman who pulled me over went through the procedures, another cruiser arrived, I was in her front seat and I think she was going to let me go with a warning. She looked in her rear view mirror and said, "ah oh". I said who is that? She said. "it's my captain". I said , " and now he is going to make me stand on my head, right?" She said, "probably". Well, I got out of the cruiser and he was bad news from the word go. He wanted to know if I had any drugs or weapons. I told him, no drugs but there is a gun in my trunk. He was obviously not amused but I voluntarily opened the trunk so he could inspect the contents. I knew that there was no ammo in the car and that I was breaking no laws having it in there. He, of course wanted to search the whole car and I gave him permission as long as he didn't get carried away and start ripping my seatcovers and such.
I had got the pistol out of the pawnshop a few weeks before this and just never got around to taking it in the house. He wanted to know why I had a gun and I explained that I had worked as a security guard and had bought it for that purpose, and also, that I lived out in a rural area and wanted one for my own security. I'm not a felon and there is no reason for me not to have a gun. I told him that I felt like anyone who didn't have a weapon for self -defense was crazy.
At this point he informed that he was taking me in. He cuffed me and I said, I'm cooperating and I'm not a baby raper, why the rough treatment?" That was just the beginning of a very long night. I was grilled and questioned for at least 4hrs. He began talking about events from my past that I had forgotten about myself. I realized then that this guy had an agenda and that I was on it, although I didn't know why. I always try to be pleasant and cooperative when confronted by the police but this guy was really pissing me off. He asked me about things that were definitely none of his business and I began telling him to book me for the DUI and take me to jail so I could make bail and go home to shower before court that morning. I had refused a breathalyzer and finally agreed to take the damn thing to get it over with. Well, I didn't pass it although I'd only had two beers. I thought that this would pacify him but then he wanted me to take a drug test. I flatly refused saying I thought it was against my constitutional rights. He then wanted me to sign a bunch of documents. I told him that I didn't have my reading glasses and that I wouldn't sign anything that I couldn't see. He said he would read them to me and I said, "I'm supposed to trust you?" I finally did because I knew I'd never get out of there if I didn't. We had a long conversation that night, and to get back to the main reason that I'm telling you about this.....during one part of the interrogation we were discussing pain killers and I stated that I sometimes took them because I had degenerative arthritis but that I thought that, "if 800 mgs of Motrin didn't take care of it, almost nothing would. He had said, "oh really".
So you see... when the intern ordered 800 mgs of Motrin for severe pain I knew something was rotten in Denmark. I said, " when I said 800 mgs of Motrin I was talking about a toothache or something...not a broken femur". He did then order something stronger.
Now back to another part of the story.
When the squad was getting ready to take me to the Lifeflight they had asked my wife to put any prescription medication I might be taking in a bag to take to the hospital with me. She was very upset and distraught and went to the cabinet and threw everything in the bag, including some of her medication. Also I had filled some prescriptions that I hadn't immediately takin because I don't always get a medical card. I filled them anyway because I might need them later and not be able to afford to fill them. There was nothing really strong, just some Darvocets and blood pressure medication,etc. this looked suspicious to them and gave them the excuse they needed to mess with me. Also, the doctor had asked me how I could maintain consciousness while on so much morphine. Obviously, I had built up a tolerance. I had told that as far as I knew I had never takin morphine before but that when my pain (from the pinched nerve in my neck) was really bad that I had takin some Loracet. I also said that I had never takin more than the prescribed amount. This was 5 , 10mg Loracets a day. He had freaked on that saying that was what they would give a cancer patient and no wonder I had a resistance to pain medication. I told him I was always that way, even before taking any and that not everyone fits into they're neat little curve. Then he wanted to know where I got them. I said that a friend gave them to me sometimes if I really needed them. Now I was really in trouble..... but I could never have foreseen the horror that was about to transpire.
After my wife and family had left this Fiend started asking me if I had saved all those drugs to sell and he wanted to know where I had got the Loratabs. I told him I didn't sell drugs and that even if I did I wouldn't know anyone who would pay for Darvocets or anything else that I had anyway and that I didn't trust anyone enough to deal drugs in the first place. This obviously didn't satisfy him because after that they must have slipped something in my IV because a doctor woke me in the process of questioning me. It was as if he had entered my dream, if that makes sense. It alarmed me that someone had violated my space, so to speak. I told this unknown intruder to leave me alone. He said, I'm Doctor so and so. I said, I don't care who you are, get the hell away from me! I remember him saying that I had an astounding presence of mind, as if he wasn't used to such resistance. I asked if he was a shrink and he acknowledge that he was. Then I became aware of other people in the room. They continued to ask me questions and I asked if I was in room 101. Someone said, no, this is room 5??. I said, didn't anyone read 1984? Then someone who had informed the others that room 101 was the room where people were interrogated and subjected to torture in The Orwell novel. This seemed to amuse the shrink.
This was the first time this happened but it was not to be the last.
The next time it happened they removed me from my room. I suppose, to hide the proceeds from intruders. I remember beforehand that the nurse who came to put my pain meds in my IV said, "This is bullshit". I didn't know what she meant at the time but it became apparent when I became aware sometime later that I was being questioned and was no longer in my room. I tried to refuse to answer some of their inquiries but as I did I became aware that there was someone on my left injecting something into my IV. It must have been sodium pentathol or another more sophisticated type of truth serum because I heard my self answering questions which I didn't not want to answer. I became very angry at this rape of my mind but to no avail the more I tried to resist the more of the stuff they pumped into me. It began to feel like I was conversing with trusted friends. They would talk about some benign subject such as my taste in wine, for instance, and then spring a question about my alleged drug use or income tax, or even the most intimate details of my sexlife; which I would point out was non of their business....but resistance was futile. Yes, I said that.
Through this process however, I was able to discern certain details about my interrogators. They didn't seem to be concerned about my knowledge of their identities. I found out that it was because, according to them, I wouldn't remember the interrogation and if by chance small parts of it were recalled that my retelling of the event would be viewed as insanity or perhaps a drug induced dream from my high doses of morphine.
At least two of them seemed to speak fluent German. One of them was a Hindu from India. Another was the Intern who had tortured me whenever possible, even going so far as to put skin staples all the way up my thigh where there was no wound, to my great pain, asking me each time he pulled the trigger if it hurt until I finally passed out from the agony. Another was my nemesis that had questioned me years earlier. The shrink and I had discussed my preference in wines. I had mentioned some vintages that I had enjoyed. He said my pronunciations was atrocious but was delighted that "I enjoyed ( their ) wine". A well-known Rhine wine. When speaking of an unusually strict grade school teacher that I had, he asked her name and then laughed saying."of course she was German".
I was also able to determine that at least some of them belonged to the Masonic Order. When I mentioned my membership in The Eagles some of them too were Eagles. They couldn't believe that one such as myself had been admitted to the Eagles. I don't know why, I have no felonies or record of violent acts such as disorderly conduct or assault. Although I dabbled in weed and such in the seventies, I pointed out that most of America had and that some damned nice people still smoke occasionally. After all, it's a free country isn't it??? Was it ever??? I pointed out that I didn't believe the new anti-drug ads proclaiming that drug money goes to terrorist's. I insisted that the money for terrorism came from our own pockets every time we buy gas and from our own governments involvement in covert operations such as the Iran Contra affair, and other clandestine and even public transfers of US funds.
Many of my observations were not popular with them. Such as my pointing out that fluoride does the same thing as Prozac. It wasn't put into our water for our teeth but to dummy-up the population. ( If you don't think so, do some research) Fact. The Nazis used it in their concentration camps to keep everyone passive.
We talked, or should I say, I was interrogated about many subjects. Such as, ESP, Eastern Religions such as, Zen, meditation, etc. Some of the topics would only make my story more unbelievable and I think that is why they were introduced....to make the story sound like an opium dream if I were to repeat it.
I could go on and on. My point is, however, that if this happened to me, it could happen to you. I am not a gangster or a drug kingpin, and certainly not anti-American or of terrorists persuasions. Although I have made mistakes, I know, because they were all pointed out to me, I am a pretty nice guy and have tempered my qualities as I've grown older, trying to improve.
If you wonder someday how someone knows all your deepest secrets, even fantasies you've never mentioned to your closest friend, something maybe that you forgot to mention on your income tax, or maybe a sexual encounter that you would rather forget, things only YOU knew, remember then what I have said. You know that time you went in for out-patient surgery or to get your wisdom teeth removed, maybe you were in an accident and were hospitalized, well, while you were there...every secret was carefully extracted from your mind, your DNA placed in a Federal database, and an implant placed in your body so you can be found anywhere, etc.
Most of us have a conscience and they use it against us. They simply ask if you've done anything wrong and you reveal the smallest details of when you stole a toy from a neighbors yard when you were five years old, or perhaps hurt someone's feelings intentionally. They of course probably have suspicions that you have something to hide or you wouldn't be interrogated in the first place. Did you participate in anti-war rallies in the Sixties? Do you buy a bag of weed for special occasions? Where? Have you been involved in a motorcycle club, a free sex league, an anti- abortion movement, a commune? Do you know anyone that has?
When I was being admitted I also remember the Intern or Doctor saying that he didn't know if he wanted to take my case. That he didn't have to. I also remember saying, "Don't you think, that in a country such as ours that the poor should receive damn near the same level or quality of medical care as the rich"? He didn't care for my opinion. The reason I mention this now is because of another fact that came to my notice. NOT EVERYONE IS TREATED!
It is a fact that some people diagnosed with treatable diseases are not told of their conditions and their disease is simply allowed to progress until it kills them. It saves money and eliminates unworthy, distasteful individuals from our society. Believe it, it's true. I was told that nearly twenty years before that they had tried that with me. I, however was not happy with my diagnosis and returned to the Doctor. When he didn't acknowledge my obvious condition, I demanded to see the Chief of Staff. When he returned from vacation he couldn't believe that the other doctor couldn't see my obvious affliction and I was immediately admitted for surgery. This was a very nice, well-known Jewish specialist who no doubt prevented my death or disfigurement. Should we all demand Jewish physicians?
Before I move things a to a few months later, let me cap what I have already said.
This all happened at a well-known Catholic Hospital. I have determined, I believe, who some of the people were. When I asked who or what they were, one of them replied, "We are a group of vigilantes dedicated to making the world a better place." "we include Law Enforcement, Judiciary, Public School Officials, Law Makers and Physicians."
I told them they were nothing but a bunch of Fascists, Nazis in fact. I was told, quite firmly to be silent or I wouldn't live to get out of the hospital and it would also be very easy to make sure that I never walked again. You can not imagine the anger, the terror, the feeling of total helplessness.
To add some humanity to the subject, let me add that the Police officer from my past, when asked why he hated me so much, told me that almost thirty years before I had picked up a girl in a bar that he was engaged to. He had vowed vergence since and told me of several occasions in which he was responsible for very bad things happening to me. Keeping me from employment and worse things that I won't go into here. He said that he wanted to put me away, not for a few years, but for the rest of my life, which at my age...might not be too long. I told him," if you're gonna do that just go ahead and shot me." He then told me of some occasions where he had tried to arrange my death which I had somehow narrowly avoided and also times when he had sabotaged my vehicles rendering them dangerous or useless. THIS IS A LAW ENFORCEMENT PROFESSIONAL?
When I awoke I must say that I remembered little of the interrogation. It would come back to me in pieces over time. But...I did awake with a great sense of danger and urgency to get the hell out of this hospital! I arranged this as quickly as possible and transferred myself to a private facility to recover. I would be hospitalized for almost three months. I believe it was the massive doses of drugs that had weakened me so much as to almost kill me.
For a time I thought I was safe. But as I began remembering and recovering to the point where I wanted to be released, it happened again. I had noticed a change in personnel and even asked about it. The nurse I asked just rolled her eyes. I was still taking what would be considered massive doses of drugs. Pain killers, sleeping aids, sedatives, etc. This place preferred their patients comfortable or unconscious. A girl I had never seen brought my evening meds and I hesitated, looking into the cup at some ten or fifteen pills. I sometimes put on my glasses and analyzed the contents asking what one or the other might be. But, this time, although I hesitated, I up-ended it and took them all in one swallow.
Now, I was know as a night owl at this facility. I think I was building up a tolerance and I often stayed up all night cruising the hall or going out to a patio provided for smokers. Of course, I was still confined to a wheelchair most of the time but I could walk with a walker or crutches if I needed to exercise, but with much pain. This night however, I went out like a light. I don't know if they slipped me a pill or it was in the water the brought for me.
After I got out, I started to remember what happened that night. In a way it was more terrifying that the original incident, I guess because it happened in a place where I had come to feel safe, and in my hometown. The event unfolds like some horror film or Twilight Zone episode.
My nemesis was there as well as other people I knew from my past. They proceeded to interrogate my about crimes going back more than thirty years, which, to my surprise, apparently I was suspected of. Fortunately, as I told even them, I had no knowledge of, and was quite surprised to be accused of, most, if not nearly all, of these criminal acts. Cat burglary, for instance, which I would never do, and had not. During the process an uncle of mine who is prominent business mans name came up. He is also a 32nd degree Mason. One of them said, You're who's nephew?" Apparently this cooled their jets somewhat and I heard someone say, "We can't do this to so and so's nephew!"
A few more things happened but after discovering that I hadn't, in fact done some of the things they suspected, things let up, I guess.
One more thing that I want to mention. My nemesis and I were apparently left alone in the room for a while. He told me that he had sabotaged my vehicles many times by sugaring the gas or adding valve grinding powder to my oil. He said he had recently done this to my motorcycle and also my lawn mowers. He said, "Remember that song that says ( it's too late ) well, it IS too late." It was a song about preserving our freedom and how if we didn't demand it that it would be takin away. IS IT TOO LATE?
After coming home I checked the oil and changed it. Both my lawn mowers and my bikes oil were full of a charcoal grey powder. My car had blown up before my ordeal. I made the mistake of not checking my oil again and my engines all seized. Upon inspection, I found the grey powder once again. He said they do this to keep us down and constantly financially strapped. When you add this to having to pay fines for bullshit after regular targeting and harassment, believe me, it works.
I have not corrected the spelling or punctuation in this letter because time is of the essence. I really am afraid that I won't be here tomorrow to finish it .